#trans engie

[loch-n-ceol]

I don’t care what anyone think

I believe Engineer is a trans man, you can fight me on that

[bustedshit]

(🌱This was meant to be a joke..)

Trying to make that man sit down is impossible..

[clown-college-honor-roll]

TF2 HEADCANON!

The Engineer used the material from the arm he cut off for his phalloplasty.

That is all.

[enydaghoul]

I... Made some shirtless Engie...

[popitdontdropitwrites]

"He Likes the Sound of His Own Sadistic Acts" Engineer/Medic (Oneshot)🔞

Summary: The Engineer purposefully winds up at the mercy of the enemy Medic after hearing the rumours of forced amputations, disembowellings and extravagant vivisections from his unfortunate teammates.

And the Medic likes hearing about his aforementioned sins against humankind, maybe a little too much.

Words: ~2700

CW: NSFW/Sexual Content, restraints.

You can also read this fic on ao3 here

The enemy Medic loomed above Dell, a sinister glint in his eyes as he examined the toy from top to bottom with the interest of both a man of science, and a man who intended to make his life a pleasurable hell. He pushed his glasses up, the lenses reflecting the bright lights of the infirmary as he ran his index over the grooves on the tip, curiously exploring the lightweight silicone. He looked to the Engineer, a mocking smirk on his lips as he switched on the tip, which quietly hummed in his gloved hands.

“I was originally planning to make you an unwilling participant in an experiment of mine, but this is just as appealing.” Ludwig crooned, his free hand playing with the thick fuzz on his chest, tiptoeing on the rapidly blurring line between sadistic torture and intimacy. “Though, I must wonder…” He took his time with his words, his tone turning low and husky – the practiced, perfected combination that drove Dell just about as mad as him. “How could an intelligent man like yourself possibly think that you could infiltrate our base without being caught?”

Dell struggled against his restraints, unwittingly putting a very entertaining show on for the doctor. “What’re you gettin’ at?”

“Do not play stupid with me, herr Engineer.” Ludwig cooed in a mockingly sweet manner. “I believe that you intended to bring this to my attention…” He mused, softly purring in his ear.

“Now why would I do that, knowin’ what I know?” He scoffed, turning red up to the ears, from both the doctor’s hot breath against his face and the odd feeling of being nude in front of his enemy.

The Medic’s eyebrows lifted in interest. “Ah, so you have heard the rumours. That is… very good.” He smiled, delighting in his infamy. “Indulge me, tell me what you have heard.” He said absentmindedly as his hand wandered lower, curiously thumbing his exposed clit. He gently explored the shaft with all the warmth of a dead-serious professional, paying special attention to the sensitive, rosy head. Still, he did not dare to step into plain, loving touches and they remained strictly clinical in nature, though that distinctive difference didn’t seem so important when it humiliated him just the same.

Despite knowing better than to hide something from the good doctor – as Ludwig would cheerfully turn him inside out to get what he wanted – he still resisted. “I’d rather not talk about you more than I’ve ought to.”

“I doubt that.” He crooned, grinning at the way he squirmed under the spotlight of the truth. “I believe that you talk about me, or more importantly, think of me very often.” He grew bored of merely touching and turned the device on, drawing his attention to it. “Now, talk. Draw this out any longer, and I will swap this for a scalpel, and this will be far less enjoyable for you.” He threatened him as if he were asking and not demanding it.

“Settle down, doc. There’s no need for any of that. I’ll rub your ego for ya if that’s what you want.” He stalled, remembering the details before he ended up with the doctor’s blade in his guts.

“I would enjoy that, as would anyone. Please, rub away.”

“…I remember that a while ago, our Scout went out to nab some of your papers in hopes of learnin’ some valuable intel, only to make a racket and get caught.”

Ludwig listened attentively, testing the tip against Dell’s nipple, not breaking eye contact for even a moment. “Go on.”

Dell exhaled sharply at the stimulation, his thoughts scattering from the low vibrations. “We found him the next mornin’, gutted, and arranged on the dinin’ table with plates and all. Your handiwork, no doubt.” 

He let out a cruel, excited laugh, practically bouncing in his seat from the happy memory. “You are forgetting something.”

“There’s a bit of contention around this part…” Dell said, trying to jog his memory around all the different retellings. “Some say you stuffed him full of birds while others reckon, you’d eaten a couple of bits of him for dinner yourself – hence the er… interestin’ installation.” He continued, a lump forming in his throat from how unusually quiet the other man was. “Either story explains the missin’ chunks.”

“But what do you believe to be true?” He whispered, prompting him.

“Well…” He wasn’t entirely sure himself, but he wasn’t in the position to stay silent. “As far as I’m aware, doves aren’t particularly partial to meat.” He figured that was the logical answer and he wouldn’t put it past Ludwig to have some not so innocent curiosities about human flesh. “You’d have to be the culprit.”

To his horror and ever-loving joy Ludwig trailed the toy down to his abdomen and only brushed the ribbed end against his already eager clit, teasing him with the idea of more stimulation. Dell – though he would never admit it – adored the way fear, shame and excitement melded together as one, to form a warm, satisfying sensation.

“Mm, you are correct. I did try to coax Archimedes into sharing with me… but he is not nearly as adventurous as I am.” The doctor grinned from ear to ear, giddy from the memory of his despicable acts. “Tell me about another. In more detail, bitte.” He asked giddily, his tone promising a reward for compliance.

He ran his memory back, surprised at his own sudden desperation to recall something. “Our Spy, the one we don’t have anymore.” He began, noting the Medic’s growing grin upon the mere mention of the poor man. “He spent days plannin’ on how to get into the enemy’s intelligence. He was so desperate to get it right that he actually talked to me and the others for all the information he could get.” The silence following his words frightened him far more than the doctor’s lingering eyes on him. “When the time came to do it, he must’ve made some oversight ‘cause he never came back.”

“Not all of him returned, correct?” Deep fascination oozed from those words.

He nodded. “We only found his body without a head.” He gasped as the humming shaft was placed on his clit, sending gentle, yet maddeningly pleasurable pulses through it.

“And? There must be more to it than that…” Ludwig’s eyes darted downward, his tongue flicking out to his lips, wetting them at the sight of his fattening cock.

If his thoughts had been scattered before, now they were utterly unreachable. “You haven’t killed him yet, so we’ve started to think that you’re hangin’ on to him for good.” He scrambled to pull a sentence together. “And there’s a lot of talk about what you do with your pet Spy.” He breathed out a sigh, satisfaction brewing inside of him, growing warmer and ever so soothing that he was almost melting into the table.

The doctor enjoyed every word as if they were a song written only for his ears. “I couldn’t care less about what your team thinks I do with him.” He said flatly, making this deeply personal yet again. “I only want to know what you believe.”

“You’re not exactly a predictable fella, doc. I don’t think I could ever guess it right.”

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, Ludwig switched the toy off, depriving him of the wonderful stimulation he’d grown so attached to and his engorged cock throbbed mournfully, begging for it back. Dell wanted to beg too, if only to see that evil glint in the taller man’s eyes. “We are both remarkably intelligent men, Dell. In fact, you can understand me far better than most of the men I work with. Your guesses are bound to be remarkably accurate.”

“I’ve… had some thoughts, yeah.” He really didn’t want to say what he’d been thinking. “I reckon that you use the poor fella as a guard dog of sorts. Maybe you’ve got somethin’ rigged to his life support that makes him scream if someone barges in when you’re busy doin’ somethin’.

Ludwig cackled manically, the sheer volume enough to startle the Engineer. “You are a terrible liar!” Ludwig exclaimed, reaching for his surgical tools – which were frighteningly close to him. “Should I get my tools ready for an impromptu surgery, herr Engineer?”

“N-Naw, y’know what I think ya do with him?” He stammered out.

The doctor was far more attentive now that he had lost his usually laid-back drawl. “Mm?”

“I reckon you fuck the darn thing.”

Ludwig cupped his chin, forcing him to meet his eyes and worse, the madness within them. “Is that what you would do with a severed head?”

He didn’t dare to lie. The doctor knew all of his little signals that would give him away. Dell gave only the slightest nod.

Ludwig chuckled, the sound disturbingly pleased. “We are alike after all.” He turned the device back on, at a greater intensity than before and Dell instinctively bucked against the whirring tip, letting out an embarrassing whine. “You like that, hm?” He rubbed it up against his clit, the extra friction making him squirm. “If you continue to be so well behaved, I might let you play with this too.” He thumbed the smaller head of the toy and a hot, anticipative twitch ran through his cock, – a movement that was witnessed by the doctor. “You will be good for me, won’t you?” He uttered, stepping over the line into something far more intimate than he was comfortable with.

He nodded quickly, his own need to please surprising him.

“Make good on that promise and tell me how you found yourself bound to my table, just like all the rest.” He said, unable to hide his excitement.

He froze up, taken aback by the question. He should have anticipated that this would come full circle, but all the gossip had lulled him into a false confidence. “I was…” He stammered, attempting to lie again when a single glance in his direction stopped him. “I came to RED base hopin’ to set up a teleporter somewhere real quiet-like, so we had an advantage.” He explained, running back through his thought process. “But it made a lot of noise and right as rain, your Heavy came trottin’ along.” Though he’d been afraid of having his skull kicked in, that fear hardly compared to that of being on the doctor’s operating table. “He dragged me right to you, didn’t even rough me up or nothin’.”

“You are getting more interesting to me by the second, Dell… but knowing you are still keeping something from me is incredibly frustrating.” He pulled the toy away, punishing him with its absence. “What is it that you are not telling me?” He demanded, his nearby tools glimmering under the infirmary’s bright lights.

“That’s everythin’, I swear it!”

“Allow me to change my question,” He said, pushing his glasses up. “Do you enjoy the thought of having your intestines ripped out from your body?” He asked, his smile fading in favour of complete and terrifying emotionlessness.

The pressure was too much, and he finally squealed. “I wanted to get caught!” He cried out. “I knew that I’d be sent straight to you, so I went in here and made a racket so y'all would hear it and come runnin'.”

“Fascinating…” Ludwig thought aloud, placing the long, curved head to his entrance. He eased it in, and the Engineer relaxed, relieved by the feeling of fullness, alongside the low hum flowing deep inside of him. “I must ask, though I already know the truth,” He twisted the toy slightly, his gaze reading his face, searching for the most exquisitely sensitive places. He of course, found them in moments. “Are you attracted to me, though such a thing is irrational and ultimately a threat to your wellbeing?”

He looked up to meet the Medic’s deceptively blue eyes, the very picture of innocence embedded into the face of utter depravity. He couldn’t deny that he bore the burden of a deep, wrongful admiration of Ludwig’s shameless decadence. Nor could he dismiss the fact that his peculiar love for the man was often accompanied by a thrilling fear constructed from the Medic’s image of a dangerous, unpredictable man. A reputation Dell almost envied, mostly because he lacked it entirely. He forwent the unique glimmer of infamy in favour of the useful – but ultimately terribly mundane – mask of amiability. To say he was attracted to Ludwig would be an understatement, because every fearful word surrounding the Medic’s name made him want to praise it.  

Dell chose not to comment, a silent admission of guilt.

“That’s what I thought.” The Medic turned on the second, smaller head, rewarding him with intense vibrations directly focused on his hard cock.

Dell threw his head back, panting as he was thrown into a world of bliss. He could hardly think, and that made it so much better, as every surviving thought was drenched in the maddening desperation of lust. Ludwig watched him as he whined and moaned, drinking in the view of his body, slicked with sweat and red all over. Amused, he turned the device up yet again, granting him the sensation he had craved for so long. The pleasure mounted far quicker than he had anticipated, and a sudden orgasm overtook him, making him shiver all over as violent, fleeting rushes of ecstasy shot through his entire body. When they faded, the once pleasing intensity became a form of torture. He writhed and squirmed, attempting to escape the device locked deep inside of him as it overstimulated his exhausted clit.

Despite his struggles, the doctor held it inside, the evil glint in his eyes feeding on his pain. “The wonderful thing about you, Dell, is that unlike myself or anyone like me for that matter, you lack a long refractory period.”

In line with Ludwig’s words, he began to feel the rising, growing waves of pleasure welling up once more. It was made even better by the sight of the Medic’s blatant hard-on pushing against the fabric of his pants. To think that Ludwig was enjoying this just as much as his other preferred methods of torture brought him a happiness he couldn’t place. If he had been capable of moving or thinking, he would have offered to help him out. At the moment, he was little more than a melting pool of desperate cries for more. His mind raced with hasty, half-formed images of the man tormenting him. In this state, the Engineer craved the man. He’d do anything just to have him inside of him. He heard himself begging for him to take the device out and take its place, but they fell on deaf ears – a new form of torture. His legs shook and again, the quick, crushing warmth and mindlessness of his climax washed over him.

Everything stung as the powerful hum continued even in the afterglow, making him shriek and twitch. “Turn it off, doc!” He wailed, unable to take the overstimulation again.

“No.” He refused bluntly. “I quite like this arrangement.”

“Please, I can’t—” He winced as Ludwig placed the toy directly over the pink head of his chubby cock, making it sting.

“Don’t complain. I can make it so much worse.” He warned.

At last, the almost painful feelings faded, and he felt as if he was merely receiving a massage rather than being electrocuted. His lashes fluttered, exhaustion setting in as he panted, now thirsty and sore from exertion.

“Are you tired, herr Engineer?” He mocked, talking down to him.

“I’m feelin’ like I’m about to drop dead.”

“Good.” Ludwig praised. “Now, cum again for me, bitte.”

He nearly spat out a series of curses, but he reminded himself of the man’s warning and kept them out of his mouth. He focused on the deep, powerful thrum pounding against his most sensitive places and the delightful attention on his clit, allowing both infinitely fulfilling touches to bring him closer and closer to the edge. The biggest contributor, however, was the Medic’s unrelenting eyes upon him, observing him with wanting, yet devious eyes, planning something more. Ludwig slipped a gloved hand into his pants, fondling himself without even bothering to hide it. Viewing something so dreamlike made his dick throb harder and harder until he came yet again, only this time was stronger than the last, tiring him out almost entirely.

“Again.” Ludwig commanded, his sadistic mind gorging itself on his suffering without any intention of stopping.

[astral-glass]

I am too scared to send you a DM on twitter, so I figured here would be safe to say this while still having anonymity.

Your trans engie art has helped me immensely in being more comfortable with my body and my dream of one day having a body like that. I see myself in your art of him and it gives me hope. Thank you for making art of him.

Ahhh oh my gosh ;;;; this is so sweet

That makes me more happy than you could know ;_; I too find a lot of comfort in his body shape, and it makes me so so soooo glad he brings joy to others too!!! You're amazing and wonderful and ur body rocks!!! In fact, I have some older engie art that's very body centric that I can share with you! It's a bit too showy for me to call it SFW, so I'm putting it under the cut here (just bare torso dw) if you wish to take a look. But again ;;; thank you so much for such a sweet comment, and I'm ecstatic that my portrayal of him brings you joy!

NOTE that these arts were NOT meant to be nsfw, I just wanted to go all out drawing how I saw his body ;; but I put it under here just in case! He fuzzy ;;;

[loch-n-ceol]

Is Engineer now canonically Trans and Bi?

Someone help me if it’s canon now

[popitdontdropitwrites]

EngieSpy Week (2022) Day 1 - "Musically Inclined"

Also avaliable on Ao3 here.

In the aftermath of Spy’s date with death, when his prettied, lifeless body sunk beneath the earth to rot, so too would countless secrets. That night, or whenever his cruel mistress came for him, silk handkerchiefs would be ceremoniously dabbed to the sweat laden foreheads of politicians, conmen, leaders, businessmen and royalty alike as an offering to their good fortune, which had been so kind as to spare each and every one of them from the most lethal blade of all – one’s own misdeeds. Though Dorian revelled in the satisfaction of a quick, clean kill, he rather enjoyed watching the slow, maddening downfall of his enemies with a glass of wine in hand. Needless to say, no one would be mourning an assassin’s demise. If anything, his corpse would be drowning in hateful spit, smiling even in death.

But there was one secret he couldn’t allow to seep into obscurity, though it did make his stomach twist and flutter with embarrassment. Normally that unpleasant feeling alone was enough to goad him into keeping it quiet for good, but this was different, in a way he couldn’t quite explain. There was a tenderness to it, a softness that tickled his insides like the velvety tips of feathers. In his bitter, rotten age, he had thought that this fluttery sensation was no longer possible. But for once, Dorian did not mind being proved wrong.

He chewed the cigarette between his lips, though he was increasingly aware of just how bad this habit was becoming. He took a drag, leaning over the splintering balustrade, his gaze wandering over to the scene before him. Harvest, though its archaic nature disgusted and frustrated him in equal parts, also gave way to gold tinted moments like these, where even the madmen among them were blessed with peace, himself being one of them, of course.

The air still carried the stench of blood and agony from the day of war, faintly perceptible underneath the homely aroma of hay and crisp evenings. The ash of his cigarette joined it, poisoning it with his presence. He felt like a snake in the grass, observing his fellow men drink and be merry, though he wouldn’t dare to strike, teeth bared, he’d merely watch, as he always did, ready to hiss at the welcoming arms around his shoulders should the need arise. Many questioned why he bothered to show up at all, if he didn’t plan on joining in on the festivities, but his reasons were simple, painfully so.

A slight smirk lifted his lips as his eyes fell on Engineer, who sat by a makeshift campfire, guitar in hand. The charming strum of his beaten up, ageing instrument delivered sweet dreamlike fragments of the cigarettes of all the previous ceasefires. His secret, the only one he would dare to confess to – provided he had a wrench to his throat – was that he liked listening to Dell play. It did not suit a man like Dorian, or fit in with his more… lavish tastes, but he could not help but listen. In a way, the humble simplicity of it freed him of the burden of luxury, because he did not have to explain its appeal, or the exquisiteness of it. His playing was pleasant, and that was all there was to it.

Admittedly, the man himself was similarly pleasant. But unlike his instrument, he would not dare to call him simple, though one might be tempted to – his trained eyes could see the gleam of the blade hidden inside that false assumption. Dell had his own secrets, perhaps just as many as him. Sometimes, in the darkness of the night, when the warmth of the alcohol had hit his face, and his mind, he dreamt of hot breath against his ears, whispering all the things he wasn’t supposed to know. In those fleeting fantasies, Dorian’s own secrets unfurled oh so naturally, insulting his long years of training simply to earn the favour of another man.

Dorian exhaled rings of smoke, subtly attempting to get Engineer’s attention.

His eyes, the colour of polished moonstones, finally met his. “Enjoyin’ the song, Spy?”

“Enjoyingis too strong of a word.” He snickered, tapping the ash from the tip of his cigarette. “Tolerating is more accurate, I believe.”

“You reckon I’m gonna buy that?” His playing did not falter for even a moment. “Y’see, son, the thing about snakes is they’ve got a real pretty smile, and yours is no different. The way I see it, you’re lovin’ every second of this.”

He had him there, in more ways than one, and he was thankful that his balaclava hid the rising, embarrassed blush on his cheeks for the most part. “I was merely mocking you, labourer. Admittedly, your skill is a little… lacking.” He snuffed out his cigarette, discarding the butt in the grass.

“It was so doggone awful that you decided to stick around, ain’t that right?” Dell set his guitar down and approached him, leaning against the wood with a devilish grin.  

“Oui, I could do better with my hands tied together.”

“Wanna bet, snake?” He chuckled, pulling the yellow cable from his belt. “I can tie ‘em up real nice for ya.”

He scoffed, the sound dignified and haughty, designed to demean Dell just a little before delivering the blow. He leant down, lowering his voice. “If you want to tie me down, labourer, it will not be with cheap, filthy cables and nor will it be in front of these imbéciles.”

As expected, he caught onto his suggestion quickly and played along, much to his delight. “Who says? Ya might think you’re above folk like me, but you’re kiddin’ yourself if you think I’ll be takin’ your orders.” His tone lowered, as if to beckon him. “Maybe it’d even be good for you. I could straighten out that nasty attitude of yours while I’m at it.” He tugged on the cables for effect, which made Spy nervous, but in that thrilling, intoxicating way, like a hand around his throat, squeezing just hard enough to tighten his lungs.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Dorian hissed. “You love me for it.”

“You’re forgettin’ who you’re talkin’ to. I solve problems, Spy, and you happen to be one of ‘em.” Dell’s accent danced, twisted, and curled in all sorts of wonderful ways and though he recognised the bait before his eyes, he wanted nothing more than to bite into it and feel the hook pierce his throat.

He glanced towards the battlefield, and moreover, the distant party raging on without them. Their comrades were far too invested in the arm wrestle between Heavy and a team of Scout, Demoman and Soldier to give them so much as a curious glance. He chewed his lip – due to the absence of a cigar – deciding whether to say the delicious set of words on his tongue, or to swallow them down for later.

“You think you can fix me like one of your mechanical toys?” His gloved index traced circles into the Engineer’s sleeve. “You are more than welcome to try.” He snorted, just a little.

“It’s settled then. Let’s get goin’.” He whistled for him, as if he were a dog.

Dorian wanted to interject and argue until his mouth ached, but he decided against it – there was simply no winning. He followed along, shooting a final glance to the abandoned guitar, which had fallen silent without its owner.