#(Soft Hearted Sparrow) [Genji]

[asarigg]

hi! so while researching things relating to koujaku I came across a really great short article about onis, specifically female ones and how they are referred. ill provide a pdf link at the end, im curious what you would think. also sorry if this gets too long!

its obvious he is based on an oni and has a relation to the "female oni" shown in hannya masks, but there is another type of "female oni" called a yamauba. yamauba don't have horns (like koujaku, though I think he doesn't to make him seem more human), disguise as men, and are only seen in mountains (koujakus preference over oceans from april fools, but his mother is also buried on a mountain). they are also said to care about their image, stressing positive actions to counteract their negative image. long unkept hair, tattered kimono, cannibalistic tendencies... seems like typical description of most "monsters" but who knows... i also see beastjakus sly-biting as kind of mild cannibalism because he is kind of chewing and eating away at him, just gently. maybe thats a reach lol

one of the first descriptors for onis were that they were the physical manifestation of the evil in ones heart (koujaku having such intense negative emotions towards his "father" and ryuuhou). his beast form is kind of like a display of his subconscious. onis are also said to be the creatures someone becomes after death (metaphorically his "true" self being killed?) they were also not particularly defined to any gender, just the gender of the host (kind of gender ambiguity like koujakus design)

i dont think he is one thing or the other, but i thought it was a really interesting thing to look at and compare esp with his story. its hard cause i feel like i can find a relation to him in anything, so lot of this is probably heavy reaching, but its still fun to think about... the article explains it much better this was just my main takeaways!

https://drive.google(.)com/file/d/19JSDOvl4No6fCP0eeDNVl3ORZpMta-1A/view?usp=sharing

i also wanted to mention while i completely agree with your bush clover perspective, i found a story called "the tale of genji" a man who had lost his mother, relates to the sheltering branches of the bush clover (its a bit of a weird story) "...Across Miyagi's dewy lea, And makes me mourn for the motherless deer That sleeps beneath the hagi tree". also probably a reach but its still interesting!

This was so so interesting to read, thank you so much for sharing with me. He’s most likely meant to be a reference to the hannya, since he has that mask and has horns in his beast design. They probably didn’t use them because maybe it was too much of a fantasy element lol 😭 The little buddhist references too.

But reading all of this I was nodding all the time. I guess even if the main imagery for him is the hannya it doesn’t mean they can’t reference other things as well. And you’re absolutely right, we got gender ambiguity again with a character that ultimately gets defined as female. Shame of their monster appearance and that duality of morals and actions.

And yeah, even if the biting is soft (I mean he bites his dick until it bleeds but if you compare it to Ren’s ending lmao) they reference Koujaku “eating” Aoba several times, be it literally or metaphorically. A true Koujaku fan can see him in anything 🚬 (he led me to places i wouldn’t go with a gun)

Like this is so Koujaku coded, the sparrows going at his hand in the Drama CD cover and isolating himself to deal with his problems and that cycle of violence and abuse he’s in. I need to add this to the essay 🤭

I need to take a look, I have a small list of noh plays I’d like to watch with time and I think one of them was about the tale of genji hehe

[cybernightart]

This isn't very well written out because it's 1 am and I just have to get this out so I can sleep lol

Very heavy Gency content!

Okay so I've seen quite a few people say they don't like gency purely for the reason that it would put mercy in a position of constantly looking after Genji like she does with every one and it's the role she gets put into all the time but I would like to present this idea. (More than likely nowhere near unique idea and is definitely been depicted before but this is just how I view their relationship)

While in everyday stuff mercy is the caretaker and the one that looks after everyone and makes sure everyone is healthy and okay, we know she is not very good taking care of herself in the same way. So, I very much picture in their relationship Genji more often than not is the one taking care of her, he makes her food, she makes sure she's taking care of herself, he physically lifts her away from her desk and carries her to bed because she has not slept in far too long, and she's just overall destroying her own because she is clawing and scraping for every drop of energy that she can put back into trying to help people while completely ignoring herself. She has been helping people for so long that she doesn't fully know how to justify helping herself, so Genji helps pull her away from this downward spiral of basing her worth off of how much she can help others, I either mentally or physically pulling her away from her work and taking care of her and being with her.

End of the exact same time mercy is allowing Genji to be something he wasn't allowed to before, when he was in the shimada clan he saw the name sparrow for being too soft and small and having too big of a heart for what was needed, they tried to turn him into a heartless killer and when he didn't want to and he said no they tried to have him killed. And with that not working, they unintentionally succeeded on their goal of turning Genji into a weapon, he was raised and now made especially in black watch for the sole purpose of revenge, destruction and death. Thanks to zenyatta he was able to come to terms with his body and see he is not a weapon he is Genji, he is his own person that his past is not determine him but rather forms a part of him which is ever growing. And even now he is still a ninja, that is something that will never change, but he is still deadly and dangerous and can be brutal swift and efficient, but when he's with Angela he can be soft and caring and be something other than a bringer of death. He can be gentle, cuddly and warm with her. She needs someone to force her to take care of herself and he wants nothing more than to just take care of her, obviously she takes care of him too but Genji is doing more small but meaningful and big gestures.

Genji when he's with mercy can lay there just holding and cuddling with her, that nothing else around the matters, he gets to live this unfamiliar but amazing feeling of pure love, pure love that brings an uncontrollable grid to his face whenever he gets to hold her. And even when they're just together, he can stand near her, be by her side, protect her and take care of her. And he knows she does not need him to protect her, if someone tried she would kick their butt.

So in short mercy gets to take a break from giving and receives, and Genji gets a break from brutally taking and gets to give.

I Can also see this playing into the Love languages I picture them having, they both love quality time, Genji loves giving acts of service, while mercy loves giving words of affirmation. And without dangerous their jobs are, and Genji wearing armor 99% of the time whenever he gets a chance to take off his armor, love physical affection. They'll both just constantly be touching each other in some way, like Genji moving Angela's hair out of her face/brushing his hand against his arm/pulling her in for a full embrace will he buries his face into her neck, or like mercy running her fingers through Genji's hair/holding his face in her hands and running her thumb gently against his scars/holding Genji's hand (or fingers) whenever he seems nervous.

Like I don't have the words to describe how I imagine fully their love being except for like comforting warm fire, like a fuzzy blanket with a warm drink cuddled up on the couch with a crackling fire as it blizzards outside, just pure love not only romantic but also best friends, they could just sit talking for hours being in each other's company and even sit in silence comfortably and just being together is enough.

Vibes like the one song "rises the moon" calming almost like a lullaby or "golden hour"

I have no idea if any of that made sense because I'm exhausted but I hope I at least got some of my point across.

[destruction-discord-harmony-blog]

@sparrow-of-the-north-wind

----

“Some say strength is a physical attribute - neglecting to remember the trials some face, emotionally, physically, beyond their understanding. The power one must have to continue through it all is past measure, and the tribulations Genji has faced in his young life? That is true Strength.”

[reapers-carino]

Beauty in Simplicity ver. 2

“Itadakimasu!”

Genji’s tone was jovial, the excited grin on his face and sparkling eyes set on the large bowl of shoyu ramen in front of him. Giving a small ‘whoop’ of excitement as he pulled his chopsticks apart, he gave a quick, sympathetic glance to his older brother. Hanzo’s brow was furrowed, staring into his bowl of shio ramen with such a contemptuous look, Genji tempted to ask how the meal had offended him. Reluctantly, Hanzo finally picked up his own set of chopsticks, brusquely snapping them apart before murmuring a soft ‘itadakimasu’ and beginning to eat. Genji waited til he was a few bites in before goading him.

“Sooo…?”

Hanzo’s eyes cut towards him, his frown somehow deepening as he bit into the chashu, a brief uptick in the corners of his lips indicating that the food was chipping away at the annoyance. Now was as good a time as any to keep prying; Hanzo’s love of good food had always been the younger brother’s way of cheering his brother up, alcohol coming in as a close second. As Hanzo’s eyes drifted back to the bowl, he grunted as Genji nudged him, wearily turning his gaze towards his younger sibling. Genji had taken several bites out of the tender pork belly from his own bowl and held it up so it looked like a goofy pork-based smile, wriggling his eyebrows at his brother playfully. Hanzo couldn’t help the choked off snort he made, the ridiculousness of the image drawing a small half smile onto his lips as he placed his chopsticks down on the tiny stand beside his bowl. Releasing a low growling sigh, Hanzo knew that Genji would not cease in his attempts to cheer him up until he finally spilled the beans on what was wrong. 

“Let’s finish our meal and then we can talk”, he sighed, picking up his chopsticks once more and beginning to scarf down the noodles. 

Hanzo couldn’t deny the delicious saltiness of the broth and the chewiness of the noodles were having an effect on him, slowly pulling him out of his dour mood and gently nudging him towards simply being cross. As he drank the last of the broth and bits of bean sprouts and garlic down, Hanzo allowed the warmth to spread throughout his body, breathing in deep and letting out a quiet exasperated sigh. Glancing to the side, his brother had drained both his broth and the sickeningly sweet melon soda he chose to go with it, looking at his brother looking at him with expectant puppy dog eyes. Tapping down on the urge to chuckle, Hanzo gave an over exaggerated sigh as he began his story.

“I had a meeting with the board this morning…”

Genji gave a brief suck of his teeth, a scowl tugging at his lips briefly before his smile returned, smaller and sympathetic. Neither one of them were strangers to the board, better known to them as the elders, the near omnipresent, insufferable hivemind of the Shimada-gumi. Gently patting his older brother on the shoulder, he gave it a brief good natured squeeze before responding.

“So how did that go?”

Earlier that day

“Thank you for taking the time to meet with me today.”

Hanzo’s voice was warm, yet professional, the light of the holoscreen gently bouncing off of his skin in the dimmed room. His expression was neutral but not blank, the ghost of a simpering smile tugging at the corners of his lips but never rising into a true one. Shoulders back, posture straight but not stiff, his whiskey brown eyes giving the room a brief once over before continuing. Fake pleasantries and niceties were expected of anyone coming before the board and he was no different, even as the heir to the Shimada Conglomerate. Although, Hanzo wished he could have expected the same from the board. He could see several of the elders at the table flicking through the information transmitted to each of their datapads as they had entered the room, some actually reading the inscribed text while others stared at him, wrinkled faces set in a permanent frown. Years of training, school work and private lessons had led to this moment and he wasn’t going to let their lingering doubts of him deter him from victory. 

Motioning at the screen, the beginning of his proposal popped up, simply titled ‘Partnership Program between Shimada Conglomerate and Caledonia, Co’. He heard the start of agitated murmurs begin around the table before motioning towards the screen once more and going to the next slide. It held images of both the Shimada Conglomerate’s main building in the heart of Hanamura and the shining new Ashe, Inc building located in Albuquerque, New Mexico. The next motion he made zoomed in on the section for Ashe, Inc. as he began to go through the history and details of the company.

“Caledonia Co. was started five years ago and is a subsidiary of the larger Ashe Inc. located in Sante Fe”, Hanzo said simply, watching as the facts illuminated on the screen before disappearing and being replaced with information from the company’s annual financial report. “They are currently the quickest growing modular home providers within the American southwest with projected earnings for the year predicted to be just under one billion dollars. There also have been whispers of the company securing a US federal contract with the United States Department of Housing and Urban Development to create homes for those still impacted by the Omnic Crisis.”

Pausing briefly, Hanzo glanced over the crowd, a small root of uneasiness swiping at his heart as not one board member looked the least bit intrigued by the company. Still, Hanzo refused to succumb to this adversity, flicking to the next screen with bulleted and referential lines about the benefit of partnering with the North American company. 

“The Shimada modular manufacturing subsidiary, Sparrow is both well-known and highly respected within the Japanese market”, Hanzo started, showing the earnings for the company in the last three years before swiping and overlapping that with predicted earnings that could happen if they expanded into other markets. “But we are lacking any power in markets outside of Eastern Asia, meaning we are not realizing Sparrow’s full potential. It is estimated that despite our current hold on the market we may begin to experience 2 to 3 percent profit declines regularly over the next decade due to field competitors and possible housing declines.”

“We do have the opportunity to turn that around”, Hanzo stated as he again showed prospective growth if they partnered up, the charts morphing to show off his estimations. “By supplying the North American company with our modular manufactured materials, we have the potential to grow both companies profits as well as have an established name in North America backing the growth of the Sparrow company into that region.”

The loss of profit statement had earned him a scoff or two, the older members stubbornly believing that the Shimada’s hold on the Japanese market was impervious to competition or outside influence. It had been the Shimada-gumi that had led the underground into helping Japan in its most dire hour during the war; providing housing, clothing, medicine, food and non-perishables as well as shelter across for their countrymen. Hanzo’s father and grandfather had spearheaded those projects almost twenty years ago, transforming the Shimada-gumi from small Yakuza-run businesses into the conglomerate powerhouse with hands in almost all facets of modern society. When the god program was eventually pushed back under sea, the Shimada’s and their supporters and allies were the one that rebuilt Japan and in turn had earned the idolatry of their countrymen. The Shimada name was looked at with adoration and reverence, the name conjuring up images of Japanese resilience and charity in the face of animosity. 

And while all that was true, they forgot that a new generation of consumers was being born, ones that were not as indebted to the Shimada name as the prior generation. People born on the cusp of the war did grow up hearing of all of their good deeds, but their attentions were fickle and easily wavered to newer, bigger things. While they would have a market to sail on for some time, it was not enough to maintain the current state of affairs and so Hanzo would try and better them. Even if it meant further catering to their more immoral heartstrings. 

“Caledonia is also the largest black market weapon supplier in the entirety of North America”, he stated pointedly, pressing another button to fully lock down any possible leaks in the room. “Caledonia is headed by Elizabeth Ashe, daughter of the heads of Ashe, Inc. Although expunged and sealed, my sources were able to find that she had a record of gang activity that was previously connected to the Deadlock Gang. It appears her tenure with the gang never ended and she instead looked for clearer avenues in which to support and conduct business.”

 The surprised looks and murmurs that rippled through the room almost made Hanzo smile for real, the man relishing the ball of pride that fluttered in his chest as he went through the rest of the presentation showing the profits that could grow for both their legitimate and illegitimate markets. The final page was marked with a simple question mark, the lights in the room coming up as he looked over the faces of the elders before finally landing on his father’s. Sojiro was the expert at guarding his true emotions, his eyes locking with his son before snapping down to the datapad that was used for each board meeting. Encrypted and only accessible through both fingerprint and retinal scanning, a security measure that ensured if any information got out, it would have to have come from within. 

“If you would like a more detailed breakdown”, he began, reaching at the front of the long boardroom table and pulling up his own datapad. “Please take a look through these pages. I am happy to answer any questions.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Hanzo’s hands tightened around his datapad, lips ticking downward ever so slightly as his eyes pulled to Shoto Yamamoto. He was a portly balding older man seated near his father, his official title being Shimada’s general counsel. Unofficially, he was one of the saiko-komon of the Shimada-gumi, his father’s most trusted advisor and provider of counsel to the entire clan. The Yamamoto family’s allegiance went all the way back to the start of the 20th century, the two families intertwined by blood spilt and fraternity. With the exception of his father, Yamamoto held the biggest sway over the counsel and what they approved or rejected. One by one, Hanzo watched as the members turned their datapad’s off, eyes glancing at Hanzo before sliding back to Yamamoto. 

“The board appreciates the time you took to present this”, Yamamoto began, the condescending intonation on ‘appreciates’ making the back of Hanzo neck burn with annoyance. “But the Shimada Conglomerate doesn’t need foreigners interfering with their affairs. Quite frankly, it’s disheartening to think your confidence, not only in the company, but also in our loyal consumers and stockholders, is so low.”

“My confidence in the company has never waivered”, Hanzo snipped back, tone tight as he placed the datapad down. Yamamoto had swiped at the lowest hanging fruit; doubt for the company, and by extension the clan, was an offense that could be punishable by death or expulsion. The accusation was weak, at best, but it shined an ambivalent light on Hanzo’s intention with the project. “My family toiled for generations to build this business into the pinnacle that it is today. I do not want to see it diminish due to the inability to adapt. The risk we face if we do not acclimate to changing times is much higher than the loss we would suffer if we do not. As I stated, the numbers--”

“And as I said we do not need any interference from some ridiculous American company”, Yamamoto snipped before leaning as far forward as his stomach would allow. He steepled his fingers briefly as he looked around at other heads of the family, inclining his head as he looked at Sojiro. “I think I can speak for all of us when I say that while...ambitious, your presentation was wholly unnecessary. When and if we begin to lose profits, we will handle it as we always have. Internally. Is there anyone that objects to this?”

Hanzo listened to the murmurs that rose up from other members, eyes darting over to the future CEO nervously before looking back to Sojiro and then Yamamoto. It felt clear who they felt they were loyal to, his allegiance, ideas and future position not yet strong enough to sway those who sat on the fence to his side. Hanzo’s lips pursed together tightly, the entire back of his neck flushing in anger. Hanzo intended for this project to be his magnum opus, an idea that would show that he was not only deserving but ready to take over the role of CEO when his father finally abdicated the position.  

Hanzo had worked tirelessly to prove that he was the heir the company deserved. He had gained his Masters in Business Administration by the time he was twenty-three, but the young scion had been interning and shadowing his father since the young age of sixteen. His father had made sure he had experienced every aspect of working for the conglomerate;  Hanzo shadowing mail clerks, administrative assistance, accountants, marketing assistants and even human resources. All this while still maintaining his grades in school, practicing several sports and martial arts with his brother and taking care of any jobs  that the clan required. This wasn’t the first time that he had come to them with proposals; his partnership with several of the nation’s biggest trade schools providing their prefabrication and metal fabrication warehouses with a constant stream of skilled workers. It would seem, however, that he still had not earned the respect that he was owed.

Taking in a slow breath, Hanzo gave a short, stiff bow as members of the board began to stand, the dozen men filtering out of the room slowly. Some stopped and gave Hanzo an apologetic pat on the shoulders, others shaking their head in unspoken disappointment.  The chagrin he felt was sickening; head racing as he tried to figure out a way to amend his blunder, to find the mistake or shortfalling he had made so he could correct it. Failure was not an option. He had worked too hard, done too much. His stomach tightened into a ball, the creep of anxiousness in his chest slowly squeezing at his lungs as he drew in a shuddering breath.  His eyes narrowed on the black marble floors, the swirling white in them blurring then vaguely coming back into focus.

“Hanzo.”

Hanzo’s eyes darted from the floor to his father, the breath caught in his throat coming out as a half-cough. Sojiro’s brow was minutely pinched, the concern he held for his son barely contained by the professionalism his position required. Standing straighter, Sojiro approached his son, gently placing a hand on his shoulder before motioning towards the door, clearly meaning to escort his son back to his office. A ghost of a smile touched Hanzo’s lips as he nodded, gathering his materials before starting towards the door, his father following close behind. 

Sojiro had grown softer in his older years, his wife’s brush with death completely transforming him into a man that actually cared about his sons’ well-beings and not just the future they could provide. Yua Shimada had been a safe space for both of the Shimada sons’, each finding brief reprieve in her presence before they were thrown back into training or schooling or dueling. She emphasized how she cared for their mental well-being first and foremost, that she would love them despite what they did for the clan. Often Genji took advantage of this unwavering love, hiding behind their mother when punishment was to be enforced, Hanzo not wanting to burden his mother with any wrath incurred from his father, trainers or tutors. Hanzo often took the brunt of the anger for not ‘keeping his brother in line’, their younger years filled with quiet resentment and constant bickering. 

It took their mother falling ill and entering the hospital during Hanzo Masters program for the family to mend, the men of the family rushing to be at Yua’s side as she was diagnosed with stage two COPD. Her lung function had fallen to 60 percent, a respiratory infection combined with years of smoking leaving her lungs extremely vulnerable. While they wasted no expense in her care, the situation remained extremely precarious for an entire month, both Hanzo, Genji and their father all taking a leave of absence from school and employment so that they could be at her side. Each night when they left their mother’s side, Hanzo and Genji would seek one another's company; drinking, dueling, gaming, anything to get their minds off of her frail body laying in that bed. Their father would even occasionally join them, silent and watching but with no malice in his gaze. Reconciliation was slow but solidified the healthier Yua got, the trials of almost losing their matriarch creating a strong bond amongst them all. 

“So Hanzo…”

Hanzo gave a small sigh as he came to a stop, his father taking a few more steps before turning to look at his son. Sojiro’s dark eyes were calm yet prying as he looked his son over, gently rubbing at his goatee as he studied the boy, Hanzo suddenly feeling like he was under a magnifying glass. Clearing his throat, Sojiro tilted his head towards the datapad that Hanzo held in his hand, Hanzo glancing downward before his brow furrowed as he looked up.

“What do you plan to do with that proposition of yours?”

Hanzo blinked once then twice before his incredulity wrinkled his brow even more, shaking his head and staring at his father in confusion. 

“What do you mean”, Hanzo inquired, tone bordering exasperation and his eyes bore into his father’s. “The board has rejected it, there is nothing I can do.”

“Disappointing”, Sojiro sighed as he turned on his heel and began his walk back towards the offices. “I expected more from you…”

In The Present

Hanzo’s face burned with quiet shame, staring down hard at the black iced coffee Genji had ordered for him as he divulged the tale, the same uneasiness at failure creeping into his stomach. 

“Well”, Genji questioned, stretching out the word and looking at his brother excitedly, the younger Shimada practically bouncing in his seat.

“Well what”, Hanzo asked, brow furrowing deeper as his brother looked at him with wide, enthusiastic eyes. “The board shot down all my plans and father is disappointed in me, what else is there?”

The words left an acrid taste in his mouth, lips ticking down even more as Genji rolled his eyes and grabbed his brother by the shoulders. 

“For someone so smart you can be so blind”, Genji sighed, rolling his eyes dramatically as Hanzo glared at him. He was unsure if his brother was trying to earn his ire but if he was, he was doing a good job at it. Forcing Hanzo to turn and look him directly in the eyes, Genji’s gaze grew slightly serious. “Didn’t you get what father was trying to tell you? Do it anyway! Fuck what the board says!”

Hanzo’s jaw dropped, mouth opening and closing several times before he found the words, confusion and disbelief fighting in equal measure.

“What do you mean fuck the board”, Hanzo hissed out, hands closing then opening as if they held the words themselves. “I can’t just dismiss what the board says. And how?! You expect me to just ignore the elders like y--”

Hanzo bit back his words but Genji rolled his eyes as he stared down his older sibling. 

“Like me”, Genji finished for him, cutting Hanzo off before he could interfect or apologize. “Actually yeah, stop letting them make every single decision for you, aniki! Aht aht, don’t interrupt! Brother, you always followed what the elders said but has any of that ever made you the least bit happy?”

“Well…”

“That’s not a yes Hanzo”, Genji muttered deadpan before releasing his brother. “Think of this like Go, Han. Go has fortresses and if you play smart, what seems like an impenetrable fortress can easily be flipped or wiped out. If you do this brother and plan it out and succeed? They won’t have any choice BUT to listen to you.”

Hanzo mulled over this for several pregnant moments, lips pursed together as his mind raced over the audacious idea, warmth beginning to bloom in his chest as excitement trickled in. He may be able to pull this off. He would have no team or project manager, he wouldn’t be able to rely on the marketing department to make materials nor assistance to work alongside him. But if he took his time, he knew he could pull this off. Fate had been on Hanzo’s side when his father had him trained in every single aspect of the business, the man no expert but far from a greenhorn if the situation demanded it. If he could not only put together a business plan but also convince Ashe to meet with him in Japan, he could taste the sweet sweet flavor of not only success but he could begin to refute and rebuke the elders when the changes brought in profit. The only thing wrong…

“As much as I would like that”, Hanzo began, his Genji’s eyes growing suspicious on him. “I cannot. There is no place I can go where Shimada eyes do not follow.”

Hanzo’s shoulders began to hunch, his head drooping before he felt Genji began to shake him, elation and mischief tainting his tone as Genji force his brother to look up. 

“I know just the place!”

[honeymoonwriting]

I dunno if you take requests still but can I ask for Mccree, Genji and Ashe meeting «readers» parents who have been controlling and wordly abusing (called them lazy, slow and weak etc) them and lowered their selfesteem for so long? Thx :3

Hello, darling. Parents who display this type of behavior are fucking despicable. If anyone is dealing with abuse, especially, parental, then please feel free to talk/ rant to me. 

TW: Abuse 

❤: McCree

• He won’t bite his tongue when he meets them or avoid eye contact from them. No, he will look straight in their eyes with an intensity that sends them looking away with shame.

• The atmosphere becomes very stiff with the soft humming of the air as the only sound filling the space, except for a few muffled coughs and huffs of impatience. Jesse doesn’t care if they’re bored or feel out of place. He wasn’t going to utter another word, because if he did, he wouldn’t be able to contain the rage and frustration. 

•“You don’t need em,’ doll.” Was his saying when the awkward ordeal was over.

“I’ll take care of ya, don’t you worry.”

💚: Genji

• He’s the same as McCree with the fiery tongue and dark eye contact, but he’s a lot more passive-aggressive than upfront about it. He displays his disappointment in subtle ways that slowly make them cower.

• His relationship with his parents is mixed. His father seemed like the villain in his youth for such a long time, like calling him ‘Sparrow,’ ridiculing his lifestyle, and always pitting him against Hanzo. He has forgiven and forgot, but that doesn’t mean you should. There is nothing more confusing and malicious than a person’s soul. 

• “Do not be afraid of letting go. The water is sweet for a reason.”

❤: Ashe 

• She’s tries really hard to contain her anger towards them when she first meets them, but it slips in ways like shaking their hand a little too harsh and sarcastically shoving half-hearted compliments down their throat. Manners are important to Ashe, no matter how vile the person is because there is always something to gain, but now? Not so much, so she just ends up dragging you away.

• Her parents weren’t there. No birthday, hell, not even when she got into trouble and had to be bailed out. She was simply a body living in a house. So, at the first opportunity, Ashe created her very own family.

•“You got me, the gang, and Bob, darling. Together and forever.” 

[lady-of-endless]

Home has a heartbeat (Hanzo Shimada x Reader)

Meditation is often used to calm your mind, heart, body, and what spirits are guarding and following you. Hanzo Shimada tried to achieve that state of mind so many times, wanting to let his guard down for a brief moment of silence. The failure to reach the part of letting himself go only pushed him deeper into hatred, anger, confusion towards who he was.

Meditation was supposed to be a period of healing, but he doubted his privilege to it. It should feel like a short rain in the forest, a refreshing gentle wind, another wave of the sea, not a storm of regrets and inner turmoil.

Lying to himself that he has not yet found the right spot for mediating and that is why he could not reach the benefits of it, Hanzo started traveling and searching for that special place.

Busan, Nepal, Egypt, Rialto even Junkertown in desperate times, all being valid options. The guilt, strong enough like a choke-hold could be felt anywhere he went.

Inhaling now deeply, the archer was sure that he finally found the adequate place to find balance at least for some minutes. In your embrace, in the closeness of your presence, focusing on breathing and calmness seemed to be so effortless there.

Reaching this place and this moment in which he would finally let himself in your arms took time, stubbornness and your subtle but significant help.

“These arms that are holding me do not feel obscure to me anymore.” Hanzo said close to a whisper with his eyes closed, almost drifting into an even more relaxing feeling.

Inside the room you were sharing, looking out the window, you and Hanzo were resting after unknown whereabouts. Seated on the floor, your back resting against a wall while Hanzo was leaning against you, his back on your chest, head tilted back on your shoulder while your arms were around him.

It seemed that calmness could be achieved also in this manner that was unfamiliar for him at first, not just by meditation.

A single concern was able to interfere and make him shiver, becoming alert at that moment. An idea, a question, an uncertainty that woke up agitation which made the spirits of his dragons stir.

Observing how his body tensed all of a sudden, you frowned in worry. Before you could ask anything, Hanzo got away from your touch.

“Outdoors meditation is needed.” It was his only explanation before he left your embrace in a swift motion.

You watched him leave the room, probably with a storm in his mind. Hanzo was aware of leaving so abruptly, doing some things abruptly when it came to some gestures. His dragons, aching from under his skin, wanting to grab your hand, shoulder, when he wanted to reach for you, a certain movement that stops right away in hesitation.

Should he stop this time as well? This whole idea that is interrupting his daily thoughts recently and persistently has to disappear and the only way for that is to forget it or let it happen. A decision such as this one needed to be thought through many times. Was he going to accept that he wanted you there? Needing you there. More importantly, were you going to accept such a request?

Traveling together, working together, learning from each other was always a conundrum for him. Why were you sticking around? Your presence felt like a breeze that could cool him off when concentration was too intense, but in the same time a breeze that could change the direction of an arrow.

Many things were locked in his soul intentionally but you were more than willing to steadily search for the key that could free his emotions.

When the archer came back inside, his state made you worry. It seemed that meditating failed once again to bring him answers, not helping at all and doing even more damage.

“What happened?” You could not hold your worry in any longer and when he stepped closer, your right hand found his face in a gentle caress.

It made you shiver when you saw him leaning into your touch more, but frowning with his eyes closed. Hanzo caught your hand with his and held it tightly, inhaling deeply before opening your eyes.

“Something needs to be said.” He stared in a serious but familiar tone to you.

Emotions touched his eyes that could never lie to you, making his blinking rate increase slightly. You waited, patiently, naturaly just as always.

Focusing on his details made your heart beat faster all the time. Grey hairs growing from his temples like waves, face so tense but eyes so tender. The sight of his uncovered shoulder made you ask yourself if it hurts him at night because of the effort he was putting in archery. A tattoo, more precisely, the house of two powerful spirits that were guarding him.

“I think it is time for you to know something that has a great importance to me and who I am. The reason why my path reaches Hanamura once a year.” His thoughts flowed through memories after letting that phrase pass through his lips.

You listened closely when Hanzo explained what this whole process meant to him, the danger he was putting himself in just to commemorate his lost brother, the things he had to do to gain the entrance to that sacred place that was the Shimada clan's pagoda. There were many things that were left unsaid about his brother that you were hearing now.

“This year, as that day approaches, I took the decision to try and make it different.” He announced, looking straight into your eyes while he grabbed your hands.

From the tightness of his grip, you could already understand how heavy his soul was at that moment.

You nodded and waited for the continuation, although strongly longing for his words. Before you could think of what could be done in a different manner this year, the simple solution was offered by him.

“I want you to be there with me. Of course, your safety will be my priority until we will reach the sacred place.” His wish, for you to be there with him has occupied his mind and now,finally freeing it felt relieving. “Will you accept this invitation?” He asked while holding your hands for a little longer.

You blinked twice, trying not to show your shock even if it was an anticipated emotion for Hanzo. Now he was the one to feel curious about your words but the waiting part being easier from all these years in which he taught himself to be patient.

“My answer is clear, I will gladly accept it, and thank you for this.” You answered before dropping the formality to add something you always wanted to tell him. “I never knew where you were going but always sensed how dispirited you were after coming back.” Hanzo frowned while listening to you and unconsciously leaning closer. “All of those times made me wish to not let you go alone anymore.”

Hanzo watched how you let it all out, every word being a drop of warmth that was falling over his heart and then spreading its heat inside his whole chest. He should have fought it, that feeling was not something he deserved.

The frown from his face disappeared slowly when he realized how perceptive you were to how he was feeling, how mindful of his state you were. His shoulders relaxed, his dragons expressing contentment, his lips parted because of the sudden understanding.

The beauties of Hanamura were blossoming around in Hanzo's sight when you two walked together and it made him feel dazed about why it looked so serene and inviting for the first time. He swallowed hard every time he was secretly catching a glimpse of the sparkle from your eyes when you were admiring the sites.

When you finally approached and stepped into the pagoda, you looked around first, then at Hanzo for a second. Not wanting to insist and thinking how it would be the best for him to be the first to step forward and alone, you waited for him to proceed. When you stopped in your tracks, he stopped as well with a questioning look on his face. Your eyes averted, shoulders dropping and a hand gesturing with a slow movement for him to go first. Hanzo only stood there, watching you before grabbing your hand and started walking with you.

You could tell that you were close to the source of his mourning by the way the tightness of his grip increased and his breathing got heavier. Copying his moves carefully, you knelt next to Hanzo, in front of an ancient katana.

Silence is the main condition for a successful meditation. The only sound that dared to be heard was brought by a soft breeze from the outside and by cherry blossom petals falling on the wooden floor of the pagoda's entrance.

You being next to him was another condition he could not reach in the past and never knew he needed. Watching him arrange some symbolic objects meticulously, you tried to understand what each meant to what happened between him and Genji. Whenever his dexterity was betrayed by a slight tremble in his hand, you were there to support the hand that was holding a sparrow feather, laying your fingers on top of his. Two hands, holding the most emblematic element, a sparrow feather, in deep devotion. None of you had to speak to understand what was happening, what peace flowed through both of you.

Next to him, holding his hand, eyes closed, you were both meditating, remembering, making everything stronger and sacred.

It is said that when your soul is at home, pain is numbed. For someone who only knew pain and traveled alone so much, home seemed a distant paradise. Almost impossible to reach, possible enough only in dreams.

After so many years of regret and sorrow, home was found and had a heartbeat. Not in Hanamura, not in that pagoda, but in your true affection which he finally learned to accept and let to do its healing.

[endlessearlgrey]

Sparrows and Blossoms

Second chapter for my “First Kisses” series, this time it’s Genji! 90% was written in 2017 and I just sucked it up and finished it now. I hope people will enjoy :) The chapter is also posted on AO3 under “First Kisses” By EndlessEarlGrey

Genji Shimada had an experience not many could say they had the privilege to receive. He had the chance to give a first kiss to his loved one twice in his lifetime. 

He first met them when he was younger; those days of vibrant green hair and boyish, coy smiles. Tucked away in a corner of his club in downtown Hanamura, Genji spotted them by chance. They caught his eye as he surfaced from placing a peck on his companion’s cheek. He wasn’t sure why they stood out from everyone else in the crowd. Perhaps it was some good fortune, that the raving spotlights converged for a split second on their figure the second he looked up. Maybe it was the fact that the crowds parted in that split moment, creating a window for a clear view of them. Perhaps… It was just pure serendipity. 

If the Gods were sending him a sign, it was well received. 

He laughed in disbelief, begrudgingly sending countless of internal apologies to the people he taunted who said they believed in ‘love at first sight’.  The sight of them struck a deep chord within him, vibrating his being like the ringing of a temple bell. His group of men and women noticed his stiff posture, and they tried to coo and whine for his attention. But he pushed away the hands that suggestively caressed his body; he ignored the calls beckoning him to come back, as he stood up from the couch to walk towards the figure. 

His S/O stood in the endless crowd by the bar, unsuccessfully trying to get the attention of the bartender. Their calls were swept away by the pulsing music and patrons’ yells. Genji stopped a little behind them, close enough to hear their order, but far enough to not alert them he was there. 

“Vodka!” They shouted, waving their hand for service. He glanced over the counter, eyes sweeping the collection of liquor before he saw the bottle of vodka. 

“Excuse me,” he shouted over the music at his S/O, as he pushed up beside them. They shot him a dirty look, as he casually leaned over the bar table, like he was cutting in ‘line’. He grabbed the bottle of liquor from the collection along with two shot glasses. That caught the attention of the bartender, who scowled and barked a cry of anger. His fierce expression immediately melted off his face once he saw Genji; replaced by a sheepish smile along with short bows of the head and murmured apologies. Genji ignored him, settling on the task of pouring two shot glasses and handing one to his S/O, who stared at him with narrowed eyes. 

What man could do such a thing without any consequences? 

Genji was all smooth lines and dimpled smiles, a quick introduction followed by a shot down the  throat. He swallowed easily as if drinking water before pouring another. With each shot, tension seeped from stiff shoulders, laughs given more freely, until he leaned in close, suggesting to them to join him in his corner. They glanced towards the mentioned area, noting the people and hesitated. He took their hand firmly in his, eyes glinting amusement even as he whined, offering promises of fun. They agreed, smiling at his ridiculousness. 

The group welcomed him back with open arms and half-hearted rebukes of his absence. He brushed them off with laughs and winks as he pulled his S/O to sit beside him. One of them cradled his face, capturing his attention. He missed the uncomfortable look on his S/O’s  face, while they pulled their arms closer to their own body- drawing themselves smaller. However the others noticed, slyly looking at each other before boldly standing up and wedging in between Genji and his S/O, throwing compliments his way. As much as Genji wanted to spend his time with his new companion, he couldn’t help being distracted by the others’ confident pleas. The familiar kisses were warm and welcoming; stroking his ego, making him feel wanted and sought after.

His S/O eventually sat by the end of the couch, sipping on a glass of wine that was given to them, while staring out into the club.  After holding out for a half hour, they stood up and excused themselves from the group. Genji immediately protested, standing up to go after them. He grabbed their wrist lightly, pleading them to stay longer. When he saw that they were not going to stay, he begged them for a phone number, using his silver-tongue to make them promise to come back tomorrow night. He was skilled at the art of persuasion, having practiced his whole life charming his way out of responsibilities. 

The next night they did come back, shaking their head in disbelief  for even coming. But all their friends pushed and convinced them to go. 

“He’s  the  Genji Shimada, of the Shimada clan! I would be so lucky for him to spare me a glance!” 

“You have to go back, nobody would give up this chance.” 

“How could you have left in the first place?” 

At the sight of them, Genji bounced from his seat and took them by the hand. He led them to a quieter corner compared to the night before, with far less companions this time around. They had to admit, the night did go better. He didn’t let anyone sit between them, spending a fair amount of time talking to everyone…Maybe just a little more with them. When Genji wasn’t talking with them, they watched him carefully, noting the way he carried himself-- his quick witted responses, his lingering touches on the others, the sensual kisses on their necks and lips. His S/O watched with a pang of jealousy and disappointment, wondering why this whole night he never paid such attention to them. They didn’t think the reason was because they were ‘new’ to his group.  Throughout the night he attracted new companions to replace the ones that left, and they received his kisses and touches. 

When his S/O told him it was time for them to leave, he got up and insisted on walking them to their transit station. 

“Oh they can survive without me,” he replied when they asked him what of the rest of his group. 

As they walked in the silent streets of Hanamura, they found Genji to be more subdued than usual. The further they got from the night scene, the less he joked and the softer his words were. His S/O walked closer to accommodate the change in volume. With hushed tones and quiet laughter, the air between them grew more intimate. He indulged them with glimpses of the man behind the partying persona. With each light touch Genji gave, he left behind goosebumps and tingles on their skin. They kept bumping into each other, as if their bodies were magnets that pulled them closer. With an unspoken motion, he laced his fingers with theirs, glancing at them to see if he overstepped. When there was no protest, Genji tightened his grip, reveling at their touch. Conversations naturally faded the longer they walked, cicadas’ songs accompanying their comfortable silence. 

His S/O was the first to speak, low and shy. They questioned why he hadn’t treated them like the others, why he didn’t show them as much affection. They knew they didn’t want to be just another one of his ‘companions’, perhaps others may accept sharing his company, but they would not. Better to end it early before they fell deeper.

Genji seemed to be taken aback, surprise clear on his face. He quickly reeled it in, lips pressed together forming a thin line while his brows furrowed. At his prolonged hesitation, his S/O looked down and shook their head, loosening their grip to let his hand go. Genji stopped, making up the lack of their grip by clenching his hand tighter. He took their other hand gently, pulling them to face him and to pull them close enough that they could feel his warm breath on their face. He stared, waiting patiently for them to meet his gaze before continuing.

“I did not want to be forceful-- I wanted you to dictate the pace. The others…” He trailed, sighing exasperatedly. “The others made it clear that all they wanted were fun interactions, flirtatious touches and instant-gratifying kisses. Some wanted the rights to boast that they had captured the attention of a son of the Shimada clan.” His S/O took note of the venomous way he hissed out his clan’s name, seeing the hard look in his eyes as his grip tightened fractionally. 

“Honestly I do not mind. It is not as if I care to uphold my family’s clan reputation. If my attention can bring some happiness in others, why not allow them that pleasure? It is not as if I do not selfishly appreciate the attention,” he mirthlessly chuckled, eyes dropping down to focus on their clasped hands. He paused, thumb tracing circles on the back of their hand. 

“But you… I could tell you did not care for any of those things. I knew you did not know who I was when you first met me.” He flashed a boyish grin, one his S/O grew accustomed to know, in which they rolled their eyes. He continued with a trace of a grin on his lips. 

“That is why I hesitated, held back my affections as much as it killed me. All I wanted was to make you laugh, to see your eyes crinkle with amusement.” He lifted his hand to cup their cheek, his thumb lightly tracing the crinkles that were there now. His touch trailed down, brushing across their lips gently. “—To feel those soft lips against mine… To litter that smooth skin beneath your jaw and neck with marks of my own.” Genji moved closer, forehead almost touching theirs.

“I am surrendering to your command. Anything you say, I will obey.” His voice dipped deep and rumbled, sending shivers down their spine and heat downwards into their core. His S/O licked their dry lips, Genji’s eyes following the action. They swallowed dryly, clearing the hoarseness in their voice. 

“And if I command it now?”

Genji’s lips quirked up, his hand sliding back to hold the back of their head. “Then…Who am I to disobey?” He closed the distance slowly, allowing them to back out should they want to. They took in a deep breath, but remained still. 

The first kiss was sweet, like the initial burst of flavor when cotton candy melted on the tongue. But the following grew in intensity with each passing second, causing their nerves to fizzle with electricity with each touch.  His tongue swiped their bottom lip in question, in which they complied eagerly, letting him in. Genji followed their lead, letting them direct the speed as he backed them to the closest building wall. The whimper that slipped from their mouth caused Genji to tighten his grip, enjoying the fact that he was the cause of the delicious noise. Both started losing rhythm, as they fought for the need to take more, and to give more to one another. His S/O threaded a hand through his hair, green tufts sticking up in between their fingers. It was when they pulled his hair hard as Genji accidently grinded against them, that a sinful moan leaked from his mouth. One of his knees buckled, causing him to suddenly throw his body weight onto their frame. His S/O gasped in shock, breaking the kiss as their eyes opened to see what happened. Genji dropped his head onto their shoulder, panting breathlessly and holding onto them firmly to keep himself upright. With a huff of a laugh, he slowly straightened, eyes twinkling with delight. 

“Seems like you found one of my weak spots,” he said breathlessly, beaming at his S/O. “Maybe I should have warned you that I become a ragdoll if you pulled there.” 

His S/O held a palm over their mouth, trying to hide their effort of keeping their laughter in. Genji took the pathetic attempt in stride, his grin turning into a teasing one. 

“Or maybe I should just have fallen, pretended to faint so you would have to carry me back home. That would have been a great story to tell wouldn’t it? Damn, I should have done it!”

That was the last straw as they burst into laughter, a loud, but happy sound echoing the quiet street. When his S/O was able to contain themselves, wiping tears from their eyes, they noticed Genji gazing at them, head tilted slightly to the side. His previous cheeky smile reduced to a small, gentle one. 

“What?” They asked. When he didn’t respond, they rolled their eyes and pushed his chest lightly, a slight redness to their cheeks. Genji shook his head and lifted his hand, gently caressing their cheek affectionately. They stared up at him shyly at first, but the feeling gave way like the gentle smile slipping from his lips. The replaced expression made their breath catch, warmth swirling within their chest and they had to close their eyes, unable to bear this newfound feeling. He murmured something in Japanese, his fingers traced delicately over their eyelids, down their nose and lingered on their lips. They breathlessly asked what he said.

“I said you’re so beautiful to me, just like an  ume  blossom in the spring. My Blossom…” He leaned in and placed the lightest kiss on their lips before leaning away. They opened their eyes, intoxicated by the intimacy between them. Genji trailed his hand down their arm until he laced his fingers with theirs. 

 “Come on, let’s keep going.”

--*--

The Genji they knew disappeared a year after they had met; vanished without any notice or warning. He was to meet them at their favourite ramen shop, the one they spent countless nights learning everything about each other. His S/O sat there, annoyed and grumpy as the first hour passed. As another hour ticked by, their phone was glued to their ear-- the ringing went on and on. When the restaurant owner apologetically asked them to leave since the shop had to close, they were scared beyond doubt. They weren’t stupid. They knew what came along with the Shimada name; the responsibilities and burdens that were shackled to his feet. 

Days passed and the anxiety grew; its roots spreading deep into their chest, wrapping around their heart. Something was terribly wrong and they didn’t know what to do. On the seventh day, the whole of Hanamura grew silent. His S/O woke to their phone blinking with over a fifty notifications. 

Message after message followed the same, pitying theme. They ignored the rest of the notifications, typing in the news website with shaking hands. They stared blankly at the screen, the bolded headline washing over them.

  “GENJI SHIMADA MURDERED BY HOMICIDE. SHIMADA CLAN SUSPECTED OF THE CRIME”

--*--

The second time they met was over ten years later, when the world was darker and more dangerous than ever. 

The news of an omnic monk and his cyborg student was the buzz of the day on the base. Rumour was that they arrived this morning from Nepal, along with a few of the Overwatch task force. Everywhere they went, people were gossiping, trying to gather information from each other. His S/O tried not to gossip much, they had more important work to do. Besides, nobody new could ever surprise them more than a talking gorilla in a lab coat and a time jumping British woman. 

It was about mid-day before they tore themselves away from the computer, deciding a quick visit to the kitchen for a cup of coffee would be the perfect pick me up. They turned into the hallway, in mid- yawn, eyes closed when they collided into a wall. They startled, almost falling backwards if it were not for a firm hand grasping their arm, pulling them back up straight. No, it was not a wall at all. They followed the line of sight from a robotic hand, to an arm, then to an emotionless helmet with a green glow where the eyes should have been. They stuttered thanks to the person, betting internally that this was one of the two guests of the hour. The cyborg remained motionless, unnervingly still. They chuckled nervously, trying to pull their arm back, but his grip was firm.

“Be at peace my student,” a melodic voice came from behind. The omnic floated up beside them, literally floated since he was sitting cross legged in the air. “I believe our new acquaintance would prefer you to release them.” He laid his hand on the cyborg’s shoulder. A golden ball flew from its orbit around his neck to hover above the cyborg’s head. A moment passed before the hand opened, letting them take a step back while rubbing the spot where they were gripped. 

“My apologies,” the cyborg said. The hairs on the back of his S/O’s neck stood immediately, a shiver running down their spine. The slightly robotic voice was a little unnerving, somewhere between human and omnic. Yet it sounded…

The omnic floated forward with his hand stretched out.  “Please let me make an introduction. I am Zenyatta and he is-“

“Sparrow,” the cyborg cut in, causing the omnic to look at him. The lights on Zenyatta’s forehead blinked twice, before steadying once more. His S/O returned the introduction, mentioning that they were just on their way to the kitchen. If the pair needed anything, they were glad to help. When Sparrow didn’t say anything, Zenyatta bowed his head slightly.

“Many thanks in advance. We shall let you continue on your way.”

They continued their way to the kitchen, throwing a glance behind them at the odd pair to find Sparrow looking back.

The next few weeks, they found that Sparrow often hung around them. At first it was not very noticeable, maybe he happened to be at the gym at the same time, or he happened to be outside on the grassy hill when they went out. Finally one day at lunch, they caught Sparrow hovering  from a corner. They called out to him, beckoning him to stop lurking and to join them instead. Sparrow hesitated, but eventually he sat down beside them, leaving a sizable space in between. 

They watched with fascination as the body suit effortlessly adjusted to the new position, a hiss of steam escaping from a vent. They started asking simple questions, in which he responded promptly. Yes he was still a human; no his body suit could not be fully taken off; yes he was still able to eat. 

Sparrow joined them every lunch after that day, always sitting a feet and a bit away. The first week was filled with easy conversations, and it was always them asking questions to him. They learned about his meeting with his master, how his master practically saved his life and taught him to accept himself. His S/O found out quickly that Zenyatta was a safe  topic to talk about, as were the places they traveled together. But once they asked about his life before being a cyborg, they could see the physical recoil at the question. He seemed reluctant to talk about that part of his life.

“It was a different life, a past life that seemed so long ago,” he said, looking off into the distance. “It was a life filled with anger and grief.” He fell silent, only the quiet hum of his body suit sounding between them. His S/O looked down at their food, hands fidgeting with the edge of the paper plate.

“But there were moments of happiness.” His continuation caused his them to glance up in question, seeing that Sparrow’s attention was on them. “A year that was filled with so much joy and happiness, that it was enough to eclipse the misery from the years before. Those memories were my only solace during the most difficult part of my life. I am eternally grateful that the Gods allowed me that good fortune.” 

His S/O nodded, having this sudden urge to reach out to him and comfort him. They wanted to let him know they knew exactly how he felt. How they were holding onto memories from a year that was the happiest they were in their whole life, but was also the most heartbreaking time of their life as well. How reliving those memories during times of agony were the only thing that kept them from spiraling into a pit of depression. But the atmosphere seemed too delicate— too raw and exposed. They just nodded, swallowing the swell of emotions that were kept locked away for many years.

The second week he started asking questions about them. They were glad to recount their stories of their past, glossing over the depression they had for many, many months. But after a few more days, they mentioned Genji for the first time. They said it in passing, but Sparrow immediately zeroed upon the name. 

“And this Genji, he was important to you?” He asked almost casually, his hands playing with the blades of grass. They glanced down, attention caught for a split second. His hands moved effortlessly, as if they were flesh and blood. 

“You could say so…” They replied slowly, caught off guard by the question. They mentioned that he had passed away many years ago, their tone and phrasing eliminated any opportunity for more questions.

 Sparrow didn’t push for more information, only breaching the topic whenever they mentioned the name. It got easier for them as weeks passed, slowly retelling the stories between Genji and them. There was something about Sparrow that made them feel comfortable and safe--- the feeling akin to a loved one’s embrace. They didn’t mind telling the funny stories, like the time where Genji had to scale the roof of their house, just because their parents returned home earlier than usual. Or about the time where Genji pouted the whole night after they had won a carnival game, beating him by a point. They laughed as they mimicked the groans of defeat that Genji made, quoting his words, “Oh I shouldn’t have taught you how to throw shurikens! To think a Blossom could beat a human!” 

Sparrow sat through the stories, rapt with fascination, laughing along. His laugh was pleasant to hear; the glow of his helmet seemed to brighten whenever he did so.

“It seemed like you liked him very much,” he commented one day after they finished a story. They smiled feebly.

“Yeah he was alright,” they attempted to joke, their voice cracking unexpectedly. They looked away when they saw Sparrow turn his head in response, taking a moment to pull in their emotions by breathing in a few shuddering breaths. 

“He was… more important to me than I could have ever realized. Funny that you don’t realize how special something is until it’s gone.” They didn’t know why they continued; maybe these past weeks of talking about Genji cracked the carefully placed walls around the sacred topic. Maybe they were tired of holding onto a ghost for all these years.

“He was the first thing I thought of when I woke, and the last thing I thought of when I slept. His presence alone could brighten my whole day. I never did tell him, but I was a better person because of him…. I lov—“ Their voice broke, tears welled over and down, hot on their face. “—Loved him. I loved him so much, and still do... love him…” They wiped their cheeks harshly, using their sleeve to wipe their nose as well. Tilting their head back, a single pathetic laugh escaped as they looked up at the clouds, trying their hardest to push their emotions down. A silence fell between them, only shaky breaths heard. 

“Well this is embarrassing. I promise I don’t often burst out crying without a warning.” They managed to look over at Sparrow, who hadn’t moved since the start. It was similar to how he was the first time they bumped into him in the hallway. An irrational thought crossed their mind, a pang of annoyance at the man. They couldn’t see if he was sympathetic or pitying, or even laughing behind that emotionless helmet of his.  The few feet that were always there whenever they sat together seemed even further than before, as if both of them were expecting another person to sit between them. 

“Can’t a person get a shoulder to cry on? Why are you always sitting so far anyways? I won’t press any button on your suit if that’s what you’re worried about,” They tried joking, voice still thick with emotion, but there was a sharpness to their remark. 

Sparrow clenched his hands so tightly that they noticed him trembling. Yet he stayed silent. 

“Sparrow?” They asked.

 “I…. I…” He started, turning his whole body towards them, steam released from vents.

“I did not want to be…forceful. I am not exactly the most approachable person. I have met many who were uncomfortable with what I am — not fully human, yet not fully machine.” One of his hands unclenched and lifted as if he wanted to reach out to them. But as if there was an invisible wall, he stopped and his hand fell to the grass. His head bowed, shoulders sagging, his hand on the grass steadied his weight. 

They furrowed their brows, they never seen him like this before. His revelation tugged at their heart strings and his defeated form looked so unnatural compared to his normally confident one.

“Sparrow…”

He shook his head, the shaking grew worse by the second. “I wanted you to dictate the pace,” he gritted out with emphasis.

His words struck a nerve; an outbreak of goose bumps littered their skin. 

He raised his head and even though they couldn’t see his eyes through the green glow, they could tell he was staring straight at them. He gasped out their name like a dying man, so tender, yet so very broken. As if their body knew what was happening before their brain, tears started forming in their eyes.

“I am surrendering to your command; Anything you say, I will obey,” he choked out.

Those words— they often recalled them, often replayed them over and over. They often thought of that night of soft lights and dreamy quietness, a precious moment that no amount of riches in the world could compare.  In private moments alone, they could imagine feeling the brush of Genji’s soft lips and warming touch. That memory was theirs alone to share, and they were selfish enough to keep that hidden from the world until their deathbed. 

How….

His S/O shook their head while simultaneously leaning back, unable to understand how he knew.  They tried to stand, shaking limbs moving so slowly as if they were stuck in tar. His other hand shot out, grabbing their wrist firmly, metal cold and unfamiliar on their skin. Their name slipped out from his mouth again, desperate and begging. 

“Command me. Command me to take off my helmet. Command me to tell you my name.” His voice cut off harshly with a sob, grip tightening. “Please… My Blossom.”

His S/O barely breathed, not daring to give into the little flicker of unimaginable hope. It could not be possible. The memories of Genji grew sharp and vivid, colours bleeding into the faded scenes that were covered in dust.  Suddenly they could hear his laugh again and how it sounded familiar to the ones they heard these past weeks. Suddenly they remembered the slight tilt of his head whenever he was curious, and how the man in front of them had the exact same quirk. They couldn’t ignore the similar inflections, the same way they both spoke, even though this man sounded more robotic. 

Their heart ached, as if someone had pressed shards of glass into it. They covered his hand with a trembling one, sucking in a deep breath through their tightened throat. 

“Take it off, take that helmet off now.”

He immediately released their wrist, both hands flying to the back of his helmet, clawing for the latches. The lower half of the helmet slid open with a hiss, the green glow dimmed into blackness. He reached up with trembling hands and removed it from his face. 

Familiar, warm brown eyes, glistening with unshed tears.

A gasp escaped from them. They had stared into those eyes for countless hours a lifetime ago.

He dropped the metal uncaring to the ground, fingers moving to another set of latches that removed the bottom half of his face. That too clattered onto the ground, leaving his face bare for them to see. They could only let straining gasps escape, all notions of speaking dissolved into thin air.  They reached out, unable to stop themselves, as their fingers traced the healed scars. 

His breath hitched at the contact, his eyes closing, forcing more tears to run down his cheeks.

“Genji…” They whispered, lightly touching the bottom half of his jaw which was not skin, but cybernetic.  “What happened?” 

He let out a cry, a mixture of pain and relief etched into his face as he stopped holding the torrent of emotions back. The man broke in front of them with loud and wretched sobs.  

Only once they had seen Genji cry. It was after a particular incident where his body was bruised with lashes from his family, and his heart was bleeding from their rebukes. His S/O held him in their arms, offering comfort while barely holding themselves together. 

This time… This time they did not even try.

They lunged forward, arms wrapped so tightly around his waist, face pressed against the hard unyielding armor. They held him tightly, their own body shaking with their own cries. It only grew more intense when he returned the tight embrace, burrowing his wet face into their neck. They remained in that state for a long moment, neither of them letting go.

Nobody knew who stopped crying first, but eventually Genji was able to soothingly stroke their hair, continuous strings of incoherent Japanese murmured against their head.  But it was his S/O that leaned back first, only enough that they could lean their forehead against his. He stopped speaking then, letting his shot voice to rest as they just breathed quietly together. 

“Genji…” They whispered again and he responded with a slight nod. They opened their swollen eyes to see that his was open, studying their face so openly with love that it almost made them start weeping again.

“Kiss me.”

He hesitated, waiting for the longest seconds of his life to see if they would change their mind. But when their lips rose upwards in the most delicate smile, he leaned forward and closed the distance between them.

Their first kiss was unsure, clumsy and hesitant. Both of them had not any practice in a very long time, not wanting to spend energy on meaningless kisses. There was no one else, not any one person could be compared. But like muscle memory, their rhythm finally synced as they poured themselves into the action. Their kisses felt  like water to a withered plant, like the first gasping breath after emerging from the deep ocean. The strong swell of relief swirled from deep within, squeezing their hearts until their cores felt like bursting into flames.

Genji broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against theirs as if the touch alone was the only sensation that kept him upright. Both of them panted rapidly and harshly, trying to fill their lungs with needed oxygen. Genji couldn’t stop the beaming smile on his face, his grin so wide that his cheeks grew sore. His S/O laughed, albeit a little hoarse, the same matching smile on theirs.

“My Blossom…” Genji whispered, his hand gently cupping their cheek.  His eyes opened, and it was his turn to be swallowed by the immense amount of love and awe that was shown from their eyes. They turned their head slightly, eyes never leaving his as if with just one blink and he would disappear. They placed a feather light kiss on his palm. 

“We have a lot of catching up to do,” his S/O whispered, a tender smile graced their lips.

[thataveragewriter]

Can I get some yakuza genji x reader

A/N: sorry for the long wait anon! I hope this is ok, it may be a little OOC so feel free to request another fic!

Yakuza!Genji x reader - Thank you 

Being the secret lover of the second head of Yakuza was a risky decision you made in a heartbeat. You could not deny the exhilarating feeling of having someone as powerful as Genji Shimada tightly wrapped around your finger, you understood and enjoyed the feeling of being in power. Yet, this didn’t deter you from your ordinary life, you were still the kind-hearted and soft-spoken florist. As you work amidst crowded streets and open markets, it would cause a huge commotion when Genji would decide to randomly visit. Rumors were told that your family was indebted to the yakuza but it was far from reality. The younger shimada enjoyed the attention his intimidating status brought him, the way the townsfolk would cower away when he and his bodyguard arrived; as if he was Moses as the sea of people would part and make way for him.

It would be random moments like this, where he would make a sudden appearance. The streets were crowded and bustling with shoppers. As the sun shone brightly in the cerulean sky, a pair of jet black SUVs distorted the seemingly peaceful market. You were attending to a customer to notice the cars and how the world seems to stop for every resident. You smiled and thanked the customer and tended to rake the fallen foliage off the porch. You noticed the approaching shadows of several figures, thinking they were a band of customers, you mumbled.

“I’ll be right with you, just a minute,” You said and quickly brushed off the last of the discarded leaves and petals. Smiling at the cleanliness you began lifting your gaze.

“Hi, how can I…” your sentence trailed off as your gaze settles on a certain raven haired male who had a smirk plastered on his handsome face.

Your cheeks began to flare up as you noticed all the eyes of the town’s people were upon you.

“I…Uh” you began stuttering not expecting the sudden visit by your lover.

“Mind if we go inside?” The sound of his smooth velvet voice never failed to make your heart race.

“Yes, of course” Shyly, you’d lead him inside whilst his bodyguards would stand safeguard from outside.

The windows from inside your little shop had been covered by an array of foliage for display, which made it difficult for anyone to see in or out. You noticed the pair of bodyguards who followed Genji stood outside, securing the premises. As you made your way to the counter with his footsteps following, your heart wildly thumped against your ribcage. You were comfortable with Genji, yet his unannounced visits were always slightly problematic especially for business.

As you were deep in thought and unaware of your situation, Genji swiftly spun you around and backed you against the counter. His firm arms coiled around your waist and the other hand delicately cupped your face whilst capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. Your eyes widened at the sudden action but soon melted in his arms. You snaked your arms up his chest and toyed with his jet black hair. Your lips molded together in perfect synch before you felt his teeth gnawing at your lower lip, asking for permission to enter. You smiled in the kiss while parting your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to enter and roam your mouth. You felt his arm slide lower and harshly grope your behind region causing you to yelp in the kiss. Feeling Genji smile in the kiss, you slowly pulled away but still entrapped within his firm arms. You gazed up to see the loving gaze of Genji as a soft smile was visible of his usual straight features.

“I missed you, my blossom” He spoke softly and slowly tucking stray strands behind your ear then resting his hand on your cheek.

You smiled at his gentleness and place your hand on top of his.

“I miss you too, my love” You say with a timid smile.

A few moments of comfortable silence pass before either of you decide to speak.

“I’ve decided. I want you to come and live with me at the palace” The younger Shimada said, no room for disagreements yet in a gentle tone.

You furrowed your brows, your family was dependant on the flora shop for a steady income and with you gone you wouldn’t be able to provide for them.

“But-“

“Your family will receive a monthly income for your absence at the shop. Don’t worry, my sparrow I will take care of you” Genji smiled, his eyes soften at your concern.

“I… I don’t know how to thank you, Gen, It’s more than I could ever ask for” you began, appreciating everything your beloved is doing for your sake.

“All I wish is for us to be together and make you happy. You matter so much to me, it’s indescribable” He said as he leaned down and lightly pecked your lips. You smiled in the quick kiss and embraced his lean form. Your arms tightly wrapped around his torso whilst your head leaned against his chest.

“Thank you, Genji”

[seno99]

The Last of Us/Overwatch AU

I need an au of this.

Ships: Roadrat, Genyatta(cyborg genji(half cyborg genji)), R76, Mchanzo, Moicy, etc.

Genyatta: Zenyatta was never happier about being an Omnic. The Infected left him alone and he was completely immune to any form of illnesses of the world. He and others, Omnic and human alike, fled to the mountains to escape the cordyceps crisis. Including his young and beautiful lover Genji. Genji who he was so scared of getting the virus, but somehow was immune. He was still carrying human organs, still fully capable of becoming infected, and yet, the bite mark on his shoulder was healed in the form of a craggly scar. Genji had taken the bite like a true ninja, with pride and with acceptance. But Zenyatta had nearly fallen apart at the sight of the angry bite mark. But now he found himself staring at his sleeping lover with admiration. Somehow, the gods above had given him someone to love who was immune to the plague taking the world. A lover who wouldn’t stop till he found his brother. Zen traced a hand over a scarred cheek, watching as Genji’s eyelashes fluttered in his sleep, a soft sound leaving his throat as he turned into the touch. Zen smiled before leaning down to touch his faceplate against his little sparrows forehead. Somehow he would help his lover find his brother. He would follow Genji to the ends of the earth.

R76: “Come on Jack! We haven’t got all fucking day, puto!” Gabe growled in a hushed whisper. “I know what that means, Gabe.” Jack growled back, trying to grab as many rounds of ammo in the abandoned gun store as possible. His wedding ring glinted in the afternoon sun. He and Gabe has left the home they knew behind since the very first day the virus started. Now they were running from fireflies because they had found out that Gabriel and Jack were immune to the virus. Blame it on the SEP program they went into during their military years. But they had no idea what the fireflies were gonna do to them if they were caught. Nothing good by the feel of it. If them being shot at meant anything. Gabriel grabbed two shotguns from a broken gun case before reaching in and grabbing what looked like a semi automatic and throwing it at Jack. “Come on. We have to get back to the house before dark. Immune or not, I don’t wanna get torn apart.” Gabe said, softer this time. Jack nodded before grabbing some hand guns and their ammo. “We should try to hit the gas station we passed by earlier. Then get back to base.” Jack suggested, because they were vets and they needed a lot of food for their enhanced bodies. “Fine.” Gabe said, keeping an eye outside. “Alright I’m ready, let’s get the hell outta here.” Jack said quietly before stepping out the back door to the store. Gabe followed him and together the started a fast trot down the road.

Mchanzo: Hanzo looked at the place where Jesse’s arm used to be. The older man was asleep in the large storage room he’d locked them in and his katana laid in a pool of smeared blood on the tile. Heavily accented words bounced around his head on repeat, nearly driving him mad with guilt. “Damn it Hanzo, just cut the fucking thing off! Now!” He had to do it. Jesse has asked him to. Plus having a Jesse with one arm was better than having no Jesse at all. Hanzo couldn’t even begin to think what he’d do if he’d lost him today. Jesse meant everything to him, was everything to him. The love of his horrible life. After he’d chased his younger brother away, he’d taken on leadership of his clan. But he’d hated ruling it alone. He wanted his brother. But he’d found Jesse at a bar instead. And he was glad he’d met him. Because even if Genji never answered his calls or texts, Jesse did. He was someone who helped him heal from the sad story that was him and his brother. Wherever Genji was, he hoped he was safe. Now he had to worry about getting Jesse back to their hideout safely. With a still bleeding stump of an arm,m it wouldn’t be easy. Hanzo looked at the poorly sewn stump, to his katana on the ground. Never again. He’d leave that blade here to find another bearer. He had always had a knack for archery, he could easily find a bow. But he couldn’t see himself wielding the very blade that hurt the man he loved most. “Jesse, wake up. It’s time to go.”

Moicy: Moira has been close friends with Angela since their college years, but somewhere along the line they both became consumed with their respective lives and careers. Angela being a leading doctor in the medical world, and Moira being a head scientist in the fight against diseases. She had been appointed to find a cure for the Cordyceps virus, but she failed. When her whole world went to shit, the last thing she’d expected was to run into none other than her long lost best friend, the one she had secretly loved since she first worked on a lab with her. “Moira!?” Angela shouted, surprised. “Dr. Ziegler?” Moira has asked quietly, as though talking to a ghost. Her heart fluttered as she looked at the mature women Angela had become. Her chest and hips had filled out more since grad school and Moira felt her cheeks heat from the realization. Here Moira has thought she was just saving a random civilian by locking her in a deserted building but it was Angela. She hadn’t noticed from behind, she looked so different and yet the same. Now she wondered how she could have not known. “It’s been quite a long time, you stopped FaceTiming.” Angela smiles warmly, always quick to forgive and forget. It was a thing Moira loved her for. “Yes. It has. Though I presume we shall have all the time to catch up. The worlds ended. Or have you noticed?” A small smirk tugged at the corner of Moira’s thin red lips. “There’s the Moira I remember.” Angela grinned, white teeth on display. She had missed it. And now maybe since they didn’t have to worry about their jobs anymore, maybe if they both survived this and got somewhere safe, maybe Moira would have a fighting chance of claiming the woman she loved as her own.

Roadrat: Mako was a lone survivor and he’d met Jamie on the road. Jaimison always seemed like he regretted joining Mako, saying things like how he didn’t need his help, and eventually he lashed out so badly that Mako just got up and left to go sleep somewhere away from the Aussie because of how riled up he was. “I don’t need your fuckin’ help ya fat prick! I’d be better off if ya just left!”—“Fine.” Mako replays the words over and over as he falls into a fitful sleep. He’s woken by horrified sobbing and cries of his name, sobering the sleep in his brain immediately. He’s on his feet and rushing towards the voice until he rounds a corner to see Jamie on his knees with hands over his mouth to stifle his scared cries. His eyes are so wide with fear that he seemed to be in some sort of trance. He looked like a terrified child. Jamie didn’t even notice as Mako approached him. He shook like a taut cord being cut when a large hand cupped his shoulder, pulling his amber eyes upwards and looking into Mako’s dark brown ones. Shock and then something deep and relieved flushed over that pale, freckled face. And then Mako found thin, lanky arms and legs wrapping around him, along with a scared, guilty voice sobbing against his chest. “I-I’m sorry, ma-mate, please, please don’t l-leave! I didn’t me-mean it! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m-“ Mako found himself wrapping his arms around the smaller man even though he didn’t understand why. “Enough.” His deep voice rumbled, feeling Jamie press his mouth into the spot below his clavicle, feeling those lips tremble against his skin. “Don’t leave me—please don’t l-leave, Mako-“ His frail voice pleaded, small hands clenching the fabric of his shirt. “Shhhh.” Mako reached up and ran a hand through the fluffy hair on the other mans head. For some reason or another he didn’t think he would ever really just leave Jamie. He’d seen how helpless he could be at times and for some reason he wanted to protect the smaller man. Even if he was a real asshole at times. They were far from being best friends, but maybe this was all they needed to kick start the beginnings of friendship and maybe something a little stronger.

[nyanevil]

/Okay, Tumblr ate the ask about Mccree mind-reading werewolf.

Self-indulgent bar-AU, idea a little changed, the key is in the end. Critique and comments appreciated!/

It all started with pomegranate.

Mccree felt it on his tongue, as two entered his bar - one of them being Genji Shimada, owner of a kitchen utensil shop right across the road.

Mccree smiled. Friendly faces of others business owners (especially werewolves too) were always welcome in "Peacekeeper".

The other face, however, remained a mystery.

"Hey, Jesse!" Genji beamed, leaning for a hug across the counter and Mccree indulged him, inhaling banana-sweet wave of friendly affection and tinge of pomegranate - a worry of someone else.

Sombra politely turned away to other customer, providing him an angle of privacy, as much as possible in a crowded establishment.

"Hey. New faces in town?", Jesse raised his eyebrows and extented a hand, turning to a stranger.

"Jesse Mccree, nice to meet ya."

"That's--"

"Hanzo Shimada", said mysterious man, shaking his hand in response and allowing himself a modest smile. Confident and strong fingers - Mccree almost grinned. "My brother told me much about you, but seeing you in person is... another experience."

Across the pomegranate sour he felt a burst of red hot chili pepper, burning in his throat - he nearly coughed at the sudden taste, when looked into Hanzo's dark eyes.

Things were getting interesting.

"You told me you need a chef", dropped Genji innocently, interrupting improvised staring contest. Jesse shaked the stun off and nodded with quiet grunt. The drinks at "Peacekeeper" were top notch, but the clients prefered a little bite _with_ their liquors. The previous chef, Mako, went to the teleshow and surprisingly won a place in a much more respectable restaurant just a month ago - Jesse even had half a mind to call Ashe, the "Deadlock Confectionery" owner, and ask for a hand despite their previous conflicts. She would've helped, but not without her vinegar-bitter sarcasm and just a touch of marshmallow fondness. A little sickening mix.

"And you, I presume, have a candidate?"

Genji beamed again and did a jazz hands move towards Hanzo - the last one folded hands behind his back and a little shyly looked away.

"Five years ago I swore to never wield a kitchen blade again, but Genji has a way with words, when he wants to", explained he, while the youngest Shimada proudly straightened. "I actually send you my resume tonight."

Oh. Jesse didn't log in a corporative email in days.

As if remembering something, Hanzo rotated his shoulder.

"I also happened to have a Michelin Guide Star."

Half of the bar went completely quiet, including Sombra, Mei and even Hana, who was on a cleaning duty, poked her head into the hall.

Jesse never striked a deal so fast in his life.

And he never tasted so much pepper from one person.

***

Bar "Peacekeeper" was by all means a decent establishment: bright cocktails, nice music, attentive bartenders and surprisingly strict rules of "no brawls, no harassment, no shady business". That's why a good part of clients were not the usual bar people: barely-legal girls as much as women of near-climax age, and all sorts of members of LGBT+ community - no one was afraid for their security. Once you break the rules - you are banned from "Peacekeeper" forever.

And no decent human being would've wanted to be a person non-grata - to be in a High Noon list.

However, after a visit from brothers Shimada several months ago, things changed. Crowd became bigger, menu - prettier, and nice music was joined by a gorgeous scent of professional cooking, bringing saliva in hungry mounts and hefty numbers to the budget.

Pomegranate and spice were now Jesse's personal curse. Mooncycle was nearing new moon, so tastes were becoming stronger. When Hanzo was around (and it was pretty fair amount of time, Hanzo was a good listener and even better storyteller, and he smelled nice and had sharpest humor ever) Mccree could feel tight seeds bursting on his tongue, filling the heated void of his mouth. Wolf inside him wanted to taste it fully, to sink sharp teeth into burning flesh, to mark, to scent it onto himself, to reach the peak of sweetness.

Human was holding him down, but the wish to drink this affection up never fully vanished.

This night was not very crowded, so in the kitchen Hanzo was alone.

"So... five years?"

Hanzo turned away from the stove and looked at Mccree without fear, knowing his true nature - Genji has a way with words - quiet steps scaring him none.

"Yes, five years", Shimada turned to the counter, mistrust a mere glint in his eyes, and began to chop spinach. Mccree suddenly catched another note, almost non-existent. "It was... an incident between me and my brother. It was around one culinary award and... I turned his chef career down to shambles."

Jesse picked up that note: a dark chocolate, sweet just a little, refined treat for the dearest of people.

"After I reached a peak of my career, I saw my own loneliness", Hanzo a little abruptly shoved the spinach into a bowl and placed an onion on the desk. "As all of my accomplishments were turning to dust - I realised that without his support I was not the person I wanted to be."

The chocolate was melting, mixing with feathery light whipped egg whites - fondness and trembling worry in glinting eyes.

"I traveled all across the world, considering myself not ready to ask for forgiveness", whispered Hanzo under his breath, gaze dead on a desk, knife forgotten. "And he found me himself, offering it just like that. Just for a little help."

Jesse saw that defeat in slumped shoulders, heard that edging tremble in his voice and reacted immediately - pulled this mess of a feelings (mousse of a feelings) in a tight hug, allowing Hanzo Shimada, this proud warrior, to hide his face in a soft welcoming shoulder.

"I thought I lost him..."

"I know the feeling", whispered back Jesse, inhaling calming sweetness. Chocolate now was for him too - a precious gift for opportunity to talk, for opportunity to change his own fate.

After a few minutes Hanzo nodded and stepped out, hastily making himself presentable. Eyeliner was a little smudged, but the pomegranate was back, as well as the pepper. Notes of chocolate were surprisingly nice fitten into this wicked mix.

"Sorry--"

"It's nothin'."

"And thank you."

Jesse smiled and tipped an invisible hat. That was the nature of werewolves - all emotions on the palate and all the secrets after a single question.

Hanzo licked his lips. Jesse was suddenly and shamefully hot under the collar.

"You are always welcome."

***

At the new moon Jesse often took a day off. He almost never repressed his transformation - he did that a lot when he was younger. It was not healthy, to forbid his wolf a hunt in a nearby forest, to disallow a surge of restless energy to find a way out.

Today, however, was Valentine's Day.

The bar was full.

"We need more ice!"

"Coming!"

"Beer!"

"Blushing Bride for me and Bullet for my husband, please."

"White Russian!"

"Beer!"

"Did you bring me Old Fashioned?"

"El Diablo for me and Rusty Nail for my husband, punk."

"Beer!"

"Yo Jesse!"

Genji grinned from ear to ear, catching Jesse's attention. He passed the ice to Mei and turned to his guest.

"Business is booming, huh?" asked he, the little shit as he is. Jesse calmed his accelerated breath with a few gulps of fully stocked with tastes air.

"Yeah, much obliged", Mccree tipped his invisible hat again. The stetson was proudly hanged above the counter. "Did you really forgive your brother just because of me?"

Genji laughed and Jesse picked up these chocolate notes again - this time much sweeter, with a dash of bright matcha.

"Sorry, but you were just an excuse, really! I wanted to bring him back long ago! Well, it's not like he killed me or something!"

Jesse just shook his head, but smirked none the less. Brothers were brothers - they still not lost warm feelings towards each other.

"Anyway, I owe you one."

"Heh, that's simple", answered Genji cryptically, before flashing his eyes bright red. "Break his heart and I will chop you in half!"

Sometimes Jesse forgot, that Shimada is a werewolf too.

Wait.

"Is Hanzo--"

"Yeah! Sorry for not telling you earlier, I was hoping you will guess this yourself. Hey-y, can I have a Jack Sparrow while you are at it?"

***

"So... werewolves?"

Hanzo neatly folded his uniform on a kitchen counter and looked at the clock. Four at the morning. Nobody's in the building.

"I thought I was obvious enough", shrugged he, straightening himself. Jesse inhaled all the pepper, just to keep his wolf at bay. Restless energy surged through his muscles, intoxicating and wicked. "I am Shimada too, after all."

"So", Mccree waved his hand near his face. "The, the pomegranate and spice..."

"The chocolate too", nodded Hanzo, stepping closer and with absolute calm unsealing the buttons on Mccree's shirt. Jesse after a second of hesitation allowed that, placing both hands on a counter, trapping Hanzo between his body and a cold granite.

"This manipulation..."

"I didn't want it to be like that", whispered Hanzo, fingers restlessly petting and cupping Mccree gorgeous chest, soothing the beast under his skin. "But we both wanted it. I was, you... This--"

"Promise me one thing", interrupted Jesse, nose touching another. Shimada blinked from sudden gesture. "This is not one night stand, is it?"

A slap across the face was not the answer Jesse anticipated.

"Do I look like a common furry, lusting over every werewolf it sees?" hissed Hanzo in disgust. "Would I wait a few months just to jump on you? Would I talk my soul out if I did not trust you enough? I've seen enough of you, Jesse, to fall way past simple lust. And you?"

The next thing Jesse knew was taste of Hanzo's lips, warm and responsive; their bodies were tightly flushed together, hands wandering.

They were making a mess - tearing clothes away, roaring at each other, biting skin to the stars under eyelids, sharply inhaling, when their fingers closed around each other, tugging, tightening oh so sweetly; they kissed in a cloud of their own breath, swallowing each others noises, grunts and moans.

They ended up on a kitchen counter, panting hotly, basking in an afterglow of orgasm supernova - Jesse above, kissing pale bitten shoulder, Hanzo below, close-eyed, enjoying cool granite against his spine. The absense of response made him worry just before he picked the tastes again and calmed down.

Sour of green apples, coated in a tender sweet crust, with just a tinge of spicy cinnamon - taste that Hanzo would gladly drink and bask in.

After so many years of searching.

A water of love.

/Key: sweet - love, fondness, all things good enough; sour - worry for loved ones, for dear things in life, for true intentions; bitter - betrayal, sarcasm, grief; spice - deep desire, lust./

[ruensroad]

You’re a natural / a beating heart of stone / you’ve gotta be so cold to make it in this world

I had so many plans for my birthday but this is all that managed to be /sobs.

An AU where Hanzo convinced Genji to shape up and rule at his side. It’s not a life Genji ever wanted and years in, he’s a hard shell of the man he wishes he could be.

More information under the cut!

The scars on Genji’s face are from the confrontation he had with Hanzo, during which Hanzo gave him a simple plea: “Join or die. Don’t make me kill you.” Genji agrees to Hanzo’s terms simply because he can see how much pain his brother is in. He has no love for the Clan itself. Honestly he wants to see it burn to the ground, but Hanzo’s entire identity revolves around it and he knows, in that moment, swords drawn, Hanzo will strike him down without hesitation. So he gives in.

It doesn’t go smoothly, however. Hanzo isn’t blind to Genji’s own unhappiness. Their father had called him Sparrow for a damn good reason: he wants to fly away. And he’d effectively caged his own brother, chained him down with duty and loyalty. Hanzo saved Genji’s life, fine, but the cost is rather high. He still cannot bring himself ot look Genji square in the eye all these years later. It hurts too much. Genji pretends not to notice.

What Hanzo can do, however, is send Genji out as a traveling figurehead. Hanzo is prim, proper, assured in his position of power. Genji is all of this but with a serious chip on his shoulder and in that way can connect with even the thuggish of thugs. He’s very good at what he does and in some circles of American gang life, he’s very highly respected, not for his Clan, but for himself. Not that it’ll save him in the end, given his popularity within the Clan itself has plummeted, but there you go.

Not pictured: his left hand is missing the pinkie finger (first two joints) and ring finger (also first two joints). Removing parts of the pinkie is a traditional Japanese yakuza punishment, or rather a show of apology and obedience. Since this is more of a futuristic yakuza that the Shimada are a part of, I added a bit extra, with the ring finger also being cut (mostly based around the Western view of ‘wedding ring finger’ showing that he is symbolically ‘married to the clan’).

It’s actually a Genji76 story inspired by the Gokushofodou comic and it does get sweet and soft, but it starts off very dark and brutal and Genji is very much a product of his yakuza upbringing. I’m still struggling with his age and the timeline according to that, where he’s either 27/28 (so only 2 to 3 years ruling with Hanzo) or his canon game age of 35 (which brings his yakuza enforcer life to a full decade). I’m leaning more on the older Genji, so his issues will be deeper seated and more interesting to explore, though this picture itself is the younger version. Older Genji gets a bit darker and a lot scruffier as time goes on *3*

In either case, hopefully one day I’ll be able to write it down oTL It’s not the only Genji76 story I have, but it’s one that’s a real happy place for me to sit in and watch play out. Hopefully people here still ship it PFF and I guess if you don’t you can still enjoy the pic??? idk? ;A;

[overwatchworks]

Can you do 14 with McGenji? Thank you so much!

14: “Stay with me goddammit!”

“Stay with me goddammit!”

It was those words that stopped Genji in his tracks, shoulders slumping just slightly and closing his eyes. That strong voice finally breaking and quavering at the end before it rambled on.

“I-I know ya said you needed some time an’ I get that, but…You–You’re what makes this place feel like home ta me. An’…I can’t lose someone else. Please, Gen…First it was Ana, then Gabe fadin’, an’ now you? You’re gonna make me say goodbye ta you…?” Jesse whispered, though Genji could hear every syllable perfectly. The heartbreak and the pain laced between each word.

“Please don’t leave me too…”

Genji turned, and oh, how he hated seeing the hope in Jesse’s eyes, the way they lit up with it. Jesse bit his lip, and it was the most vulnerable Genji had ever seen him, heart on his sleeve and ready to share it with Genji once again. The ninja never felt like he deserved it, but he knew Jesse did. He deserved the world. One Genji simply couldn’t give him. Not now.

“I have made my choice, Jesse. I have to go. We will meet again, in another life. But for now, I have completed my work here in Overwatch, they’re through with me and I them. I need to find myself, a purpose, some peace. I cannot deny myself that any longer.” Genji told him, voice hushed and eyes cast downwards. He stiffened when Jesse took his hand, but didn’t fight it as the cowboy dragged him closer to his body until he took his chin and forced it up. 

Genji had only ever seen Jesse cry the night after he found out Ana had died, but here he was now with tears streaking down his cheeks, eyes red rimmed and defeated. It hurt, made Genji want to take back everything, but he knew he couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them, and they both knew it.

“Don’t leave me like this, Gen…”

The cyborg lifted his hand to Jesse’s cheek, cupping it in warm metal and synthetic skin. His other hand reached behind his head, taking off the faceplate and holding it at his side limply. It felt like lead, heavy and burdening. He didn’t think it would have been this hard.

“We will meet again.” 

A brush of his lips against the cowboy’s was all he allowed himself before slipping his faceplate back on with a soft hiss. Any more and he wasn’t sure if he could have brought himself to leave and follow his own path. Funny, how the sparrow with new wings found it near impossible to fly again.

“Goodbye, Jesse.”

Jesse said nothing as Genji turned once again and began walking away, the quiet click of his feet on the metal flooring below him the only sound accompanying him out. He didn’t look back, only ahead into the starry night and his future.

~~

[destruction-discord-harmony-blog]

@midorinotsumi

----

“Endless pages could be filled with the lessons I learned from the Sparrow that came into my life, how his journey changed my own, and the strength his heart gave me. I shall keep those words to myself, else embarrass him with my novels”

[mad-777-hatter-undercover]

Death of a New Man

The heady feeling of air he swallowed as if he was a thirsted man left alone in a dry, hot desert, left him dizzy and disoriented. It was as if he never breathed, never knew the sense of cherishing the little miracle his body did without him paying any cautious thought to it, the miracle of breathing. The white noise ringed in his ears insistently, reminding him along with his laboured panting about the mortal coil he was trapped in. He was nothing but a mere human, standing there, with a pleasure tickling and soothing a part he had long ignored, a satisfaction he had for so long denied himself.

Just as he was reeling from the novelty of the sensation he was feeling, he’s struck by the smell of blood, hot iron tang which slips along the air in his nostrils, mocking as he chokes on his breathe. He blinks his eyes, washing away the euphoria phase he was stuck in to take in the scene laid in front of him. A strangled gasp escapes his lips, looking with horror at the picture he painted in his intoxicated state.

Blood, red blood everywhere on the polished wood, on the bamboo walls, on the sacred scroll of his family on the wall, on the lifeless body fallen in front of him. The spike of satisfaction still hums on the background but is soon drowned by the hot painful sense of shame. He brings his hand up to cover his face in horror only to see his hands wet with blood and the stench of iron makes him gag. He feels how his hair is plastered to his face by his sweat and the blood of his victim.

His sword drops down listlessly beside him, his hands no longer has the power to carry the weapon which led him to this slaughter. He falls to his knees as the burden of his sin, shame and broken oaths weigh down on him. How did it end up like this? His mind draws blank, he just remembers his fury and bitterness, the green monster of jealousy as the taunts with sweet acrid tone teased him, gotten under his skin.

‘But you never were his favourite, were you?’

The words bring his vehemence back with a vengeance but it quickly gets tempered down when he remembers how he broke the oath he made to his father. His last words as he held his hands during his final hours.

‘Take care of my little sparrow, Hanzo.’

And now, he sits above his brother’s lifeless corpse, a promise broken, and a bone deep satisfaction that still whispers somewhere in the back of his head. He feels the shame getting stronger, cutting his airway, making him choke on the heavy air tinted with the coppery taste. He loathes himself for the satisfaction that still sings in the back of his head. He feels the sting of his eyes, a warning of flood gates to open and never stop. He doesn’t allow himself to shed a tear, he has no right to do so after the horrendous deed he committed.

He numbly looks at his brother, taking in the damage he had caused. The face is marred with burns and cuts, his black hair sticking to his forehead in disarray. How displeased he would be to find himself in such a state, he always loved to look his best. The thought brings a painful pang in Hanzo’s heart. He can’t stop his eyes trailing down from the scarred face to the twisted and broken body. He caused this, by losing control, by letting his rage, his resentment, his spite to take a hold of him and lead him to this unforgivable act.

He distantly hears the elders stepping in the dojo, singing praise, admiring the new head of Shimada clan to be a ruthless powerful leader. He watches blankly as they drag him away, the little sparrow. His brother. Genji.

The name flares a wound in his heart threatening to burst out of his chest, for tears to flow with no end. He wants to scream in agony, over and over until his throat bleeds and he can no longer utter a word. What has he done? He killed the only one person in this godforsaken hell that kept him sane. Why? Because he was getting out of line, that he should have been set straight? The sweet satisfaction that he felt soon bled into the acrimonious taste that filled his mouth. A kin slayer, that’s what Hanzo was, a shameless kin slayer who felt no remorse when he killed his brother with cold blood.

He rises, nods numbly along the praises he hears from the old fools around him. Their voices scratching his ears out, their words and acceptance feel meaningless in the face of what happened. What made him seek the approval of these ancient sad excuse of human beings, he can’t find it in his mind.

He bows his head, and excuses himself, walking outside of the dojo that still smells like death and betrayal. His stained black hair flows after him like beacon of ill fate. He enters his room, sliding the door close after him, beginning to strip methodically. To outside eyes he barely looks fazed, professionally getting rid of his blood stained clothes and preparing for a bath to wash away the traces of the battle he came victorious in.

However, from inside, he feels his world is breaking apart. He washes and scrubs his skin, his hands, but no matter how many times he does, the blood is still there, it doesn’t go away. His skin is pink and raw from the intensive treatment but he doesn’t stop, he has to wipe away the blood, the smell of it, he has to have the relief. He knows somewhere deep inside of him that the relief would never come, that he has killed a part of himself today, a part that had a potential to be a good man. He cursed his own fate by his hands.

The dishonour of the crime he committed doesn’t leave him, and it is only fair, for the cost of a life is the restlessness of the one that takes the life. He can’t think of any act which would redeem his appalling action. He dresses back up, opening a closet to find a bottle of expensive liquor he was gifted for becoming the oyabun. He found the act indecent at the time, celebrating the death of his father for taking his place. He starts laughing at the irony as he opens the bottle and pours it in a sakazuki, receiving a fine drink at the day of his father's death and drinking it on the day of his brother’s murder.

One portion turns into two and two turns into too many that the bottle no longer contains a drink to drown his sorrow in. He growls in frustration. It’s not enough, he’s still acutely aware of what he had done. He leaves his room, sneaking quietly into the storage and snatches couple of bottles back to his room. He drinks and drinks, bottle after bottle until he no longer remembers his own name.

He passes out.

***

The sun light stabs his eyes as he opens them and he groans as he feels an unbearable pounding in his head, his tongue feels like sand paper and his mouth is dry. He closes his eyes less he finds some relief but his headache only intensifies. He can’t remember what happened last night that led to him being so disoriented and he tries to sit down by trembling arms. The strong smell of alcohol scrunches up his nose and shapes his mouth into a displeased frown. He looks around the room to remember. The room is a mess, bottles fallen haphazardly on the floor, the sakazuki is long forgotten beside the gifted bottle.

Memories come back so fast he feels the air got punched out of his lung. Under the harsh light of the day his action seems much more grave than he felt. He closes his eyes, muttering over and over how it’s all a dream, that when he opens his eyes, all of the pain he felt will disappear, that Genji would come bursting through his room, making fun of how he can barely hold his liquor. He opens his eyes. Genji is still dead.

He gets up on shaky legs and goes to freshen up. He looks at the mirror and it looks as if he aged a decade over night. He feels a lump in his throat, he can barely breathe around it. Still, his face stares back undeterred, as if it’s incapable of displaying any kind of emotion other than his stoic blank look He takes a deep breath and goes back go his room, hiding the evidence of his midnight weakness.

He dresses up, grooming his hair and stands with squared shoulders as he slides his room open and steps out. People don’t make eye contact with him, shying away as he walks towards the dojo. He hears whispers behind his back, the frightened voice of the servants and henchmen. Of course they are terrified, he didn’t bear mercy over his own brother, why would he bear mercy towards anyone else? The thought makes his stomach clench uncomfortably.

He sees the elders gathered in the dojo. It looks clean an pristine, as if the last night was a mere nightmare Hanzo’s mind fabricated. Hanzo is not fooled. The scroll still bears the slash of his sword, the traces of his brother's blood. He swallows thickly and walks to the alter holding the disgraced blade. He asks quietly about the funeral and the ceremony necessary for his brother’s death. The elders scoff, laughing as how a disgraced member of the clan does not deserve an honourable burial, that they left his brother's cold corpse outside the castle to be pickled like trash. Hanzo feels sick, the guilt he was feeling intensifies tenfold. He picks his sword, a new determination in his mind and walks outside of the dojo, demanding not be disturbed during the day.

He goes to the kitchen demanding a bowl of sukiyaki to be prepared and brought to his room. The cook hurries up, fumbling in order go make his master's favourite dish. Hanzo walks back to his room sitting calmly and lights couple of incense sticks and sets his tatami to prepare for the ceremony.

He hears the soft footsteps of the maid who brought him his final meal. He waits patiently as she quietly slides his door open, bows her head and put his meal inside the room. He quickly dismisses her before she can fuss over him and brings the tray close, savouring his final meal. It tastes like ash, barely holding a flavour. He knows it’s not the cooks fault. It’s his guilt poisoning even his last meal with the stale bitter taste of shame. He chews slowly and thoughtfully, too stubborn to let his guilt ruining the ceremony.

He sets the tray outside as he finishes, and starts dressing in his white yukata, it would do instead of a shini-shozoku. He sets his sword in front the tatami he was sitting on, covering the blade end with a small white towel. It was true that seppuku was only preformed by either a tanto or a wakizashi but Hanzo thought it was only right that he should die by the sword which had disgraced him, which had taken his brother from him. He did not a have a Second, and it was perfectly fine. He did not want to burden anyone with the ill omen of being a kaishakunin. He would preform jumonji giri, bear his suffering quietly until he bleeds to death, passing away with his hand over his face with the shame of his heavy deed.

He sits down and starts writing his last words like any honourable samurai. A death poem.

“I have done a grave deed, didst thou not hear a noise, father?,

Thou heard the owl scream and crickets cry on a night unlike any other,

The guardian spirits screamed ‘murder!’, I did not mark their words,

As they prayed I buried mine hands in a blood red like rose,

One cried ‘God bless us!’ and ‘Amen’ answered the other with a bow,

Under their gaze no ‘Amen’ could pass my lips as my soul stepped low,

‘Sleep no more! Thou do murder sleep.’ Whispered my doze as it fled,

No ‘Amen ‘ could bless Hanzo, for his brother is dead.”

He finishes it with flourish if the brush, setting it aside with his sumi set. He feels his heart aching painfully, for the brother he murdered, for the years and years he stole from his life time, for the short life of his own that now has to come to an end without coming to any fruition. He sighs, getting up and getting the bottle of sake which remained from his drunken night. He pours some in his sakazuki, sipping the drink in a mockery of a little ceremony prior his impending death.

He picks the poem, reading it and checking it for the last time. He hears the teasing voice of Genji, laughing at him for being a perfectionist. He takes a deep breath, putting the poem in front of him and picking the sword. He opens his yukata and takes a long shuddering breath, moving the sword high and down to stab himself in the abdomen, finally being relived of the shame that grips his heart and mind. He would embrace the pain and death like an old friend.

The pain never comes.

He opens his eyes, to see his arms frozen in place, the sword a whisper away from colouring his white kimono red like a blank canvas. His arms are struggling against the power which holds him from finishing himself off. He tries hard, grinding his teeth, focusing hard on the task of performing the seppuku. Instead his sword chips in the battle of powers, the shard flying to his face, grazing his cheek. He drops the sword in shock, belatedly notices the blue glow that flares from his arms. He feels their heavy gaze on his bowed head. He looks up.

They float above him, their expression screams of disappointment. He feels shame crawling up his throat, blocking his airways.

“Masters,” he whispers quietly, “Is this not the right thing to do? I have broken the vow I made to my father, killed my own flesh and blood. Is death not the only honourable way which I could seek my redemption?”

The dragons keep looking at him, not saying a word, blinking lazily as they floated above him. Hanzo feels desperate, he rushes to get up, stumbling on his feet gracelessly.

“Is death not the way to seek honour for a noble warrior after falling in the clutches of sin? Is it not how to wash away the sordid deed these hands have committed?” He raises his hands, showing them to the old guardian spirits. He watches with horror as they are still covered in blood, the stench of it filling the room. He blinks in shock to see it gone, the smell but an illusion. He falls to his knees.

“Death is a sweet release, an escape from the guilt weighing this flesh.” He mutters as he extends his arms. “I do not deserve the mercy which death offers, I am no honourable warrior. I am a disgraced criminal.” His voice cracks. He feels hot tears fall in down his face, causing the cut on his face to burn.

“I am to live with a brother’s blood on my hands, living the rest if my days with regret and grief for the foolishness of myself. I should never be forgiven.” He sobs, burying his face against the floor, his nail catching on the edge of the mat, grounding him to the reality that he feels slips from his fingers like sand. He still smells blood despite knowing there is none. He is doomed to live with his felony.

Hours pass and his tears has went dry. He raises his head and the dragons no longer there. He starts tripping out of his white kimono. He is unworthy of being dressed of something so pure, he does not deserve to be dressed like the innocent. He holds them neatly, putting them far insider his closet. He dresses in his western suit, a suit he committed numerous abominable acts in, a suit fitting for his irredeemable soul. His eyes falls onto the sword. He holds it, inspecting it closely and seeing nothing. Everything is blurred, he can’t feel anything.

He opens his hair, lets it cascade down his shoulder. He gathers a fistful of the inky strands and moves his sword behind his neck. A swift sharp move and the ground is covered by ebony strings of what was once his hair. Despite his endless fondness for his locks, he feels nothing as he sees them on the floor, no mourning, no pang of regret. He feels nothing.

He does not sleep, watching the moon rise and set. The sun rises an it marks a new day. For most people, it’s a sign of a new birth, of a new chapter of life. He is dead, no longer the man he was before. The sun doesn’t mark a birth for him, it marks death of a new man.

The end

Writers Note:

I haven't written anything in a year, so the writing is a bit rusty. I would welcome any constructive criticism. I hope you enjoy the story.

P.s.: This was hugely inspired by Macbeth's scene after he kills the king and goes back to his wife especially the death poem.

[kiryuva]

Privacy

The soundwave of devious snickering found its way into the eardrums of a seemingly unsuspecting cyborg. Exiting the hall that lead from the washroom, the visorless figure walked forward slowly, careful of both his footing and surroundings.

He was familiar as to whose laughter it belonged to, but knew it would be useless to call out her name in an attempt to find her. Instead, he would use his natural senses which, in his opinion, was faster than his many previous attempts of playing cat and mouse with the subject.

Eventually, after minutes of walking, he stopped at a particular area in the hallway. There was no noise, and not so much of any signs of movement. It would appear that he was the only one in the vicinity.

Fortunately with his years of training and enhanced abilities, he was gifted with the talent to hear and see others far quicker than any human could. Where viable, he chose to use these assets, and this situation called for them.

It was faint, but he heard them. As much as she tried to calm herself, he heard the quickened pace of her heart. Preparing himself, he turned to the exact location of where he knew she was, his eyes staring at where he assumed her eyes were.

“You are aware that I can hear your heartbeat, even if you choose to hide yourself?” his voice was calm, and seemingly unbothered, “It does not take long for one with ears to find you.”

Groaning, the figure revealed herself in a wave of now faded purple, crossing her arms with a smirk. “Ah, you’re no fun at all, Sparrow. I guess you’re smarter than you look.”

He didn’t respond to her comment immediately, instead took the opportunity to study both her appearance and what she had done. Just as he left from washing his face, he heard a very faint snap of a camera. While this did not send him into a blind fury, it irked him that someone invaded and disrespected his means for privacy.

“Your phone,” he stated after the silence, “where is it?”

Sombra stared at him blankly before shrugging, “Why?”

“You took a picture of me without my permission,” his tone became more sharp, “do not make this difficult.”

“Sparrow, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the purple-haired female spoke, waving her hand as if to shoo him away, “you have no proof it was me even if I did it. But... It’s not like the cameras would help you, anyway.

He glared at her, that childish smirk she loved to wear etching itself into his mind. Of course the cameras would not help him; he didn’t have to look to see their glitched positions and feel the electric distortion. “I will not ask again.”

“Is that a threat?” she challenged with a chuckle, “How scary.”

Genji truly wasn’t in the mood to fight. Exhaling, the cyborg asked a different question; perhaps a slightly different approach would work, “What do I need to do to have you delete the picture?”

“Mm,” Sombra’s vivid, violet eyes made sure not to leave his own, “What picture? Honestly, Sparrow, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Inwardly, the cyborg wanted to take her device where he assumed it would be and somehow delete it himself, but knew she was too intelligent for placing it somewhere as simple as her pocket. If she even had it on her weird outfit, jacket-thing she wore.

Or was she?

“What do I need to do to get you to delete the picture?” he repeated in a softer voice.

She walked a bit closer to him, studying the scars of his face and paying attention to his facial expressions, as limited as they seemed. Finding no need to further keep the charade up, or becoming bored, she decided to drop the act. Mostly.

“Sparrow, you always have your visor on. It’s very rare you ever show your face,” she moved her hands in an upward motion, a holographic profile card appearing before him and floating amidst purple energy waves, “Gotta keep your profile updated, too, you know.”

He remained quiet, thankful his Master assisted him discovering his need for self-control.

“Aww, but you’re so handsome, not sure why you’d want to keep your face hidden all the time,” she teased in what the agent could not tell if it was a sarcastic tone or not, “it’s just one picture. I promise, it’s in good hands.”

Genji had his own commentary on how she was. If anything, she was more of a careless ‘undercover’ agent, but left it alone. Looking her up and down, he met her gaze yet again. “What do I—“

“Tell you what, Sparrow,” she interrupted, as if bored hearing the same question again, “I’ll give it back, but! Under one, small... condition.”

Of course.

He sighed softly in defeat, “What condition?”

She tilted her head, her hair falling over her shoulder as she playfully stood on her toes to whisper in his ear,

“Kiss me.”

The expression that Genji gave to Sombra was a mixture of confusion and agitation, but lasted for only a second. He hated that she was using his own face to blackmail, hated that she was proving to be so stubborn, but concluded that two could play that game if he really needed to.

“Alright,” he agreed some moments after. "I will kiss you."

Sombra was too busy laughing to fully register his answer, but soon her laughter became that of a confused chuckle. Her expression took on a more concerned look as well. “What?”

“I will kiss you.” Genji repeated.

Shifting her eyes from left to right, and then turning her head, she made sure she was seeing and hearing things correctly. Growing incredibly hesitant, she stepped back the moment he stepped forward towards her.

“It was a joke, Sparrow, I didn’t think you’d take it so seriously—“ she began, pulling up both the image and profile before seeing his shadow loom over her, “—ay, learn to take a joke...!"

The moment he lowered himself too quickly to her, the Talon agent merely tripped stepping back again. Feeling her face grow warm, she grit her teeth in agitation of her own. “W-What are you doing!? I said it was a joke!”

“You said you would delete it if I kissed you, correct?” he cupped her chin and lowered his volume to match how gentle he held her, “I agreed to your terms, so please, if you would allow me to—“

His voice was too low and soft for her liking, and made her mind momentarily short-circuit. All the while, Genji found this incredibly amusing.

As if to answer Sombra’s plea for saving and to remove her in the situation she so cleverly created for herself, she heard blinks from behind her. How close the cyborg was to her made her freeze until a familiar voice snapped her to.

“Genji! Are you—“ she paused, seeing Sombra, immediately glaring while readying her pistols, “—you!”

“Tracer!” she turned, pushing Genji from her and seeking refuge from the adventurer behind her back, “Get him to stop!”

Arching an eyebrow, the brunette lowered her arms and stood confused by her enemy’s words. While she would take them lightly, (and frankly was not fond of the hacker by any means) she decided to ask after moments of silence, “What are you talking about?”

“Your friend is—“ she stepped further away from Tracer and decided to keep the profile floating by him, wincing as he stepped forward again in an attempt to follow her, “—just tell him to back off! It isn't funny!"

“What are—“ as she turned around, the Talon agent had disappeared entirely. Blinking, she tilted her head and looked at Genji with a quizzical expression, “—what was she talking about? What did you do?”

Pressing his fingers onto the hovering profile and removing the picture, only to then alter some of the information altogether, he answered in a nonchalant manner,

“I haven’t the slightest idea.”

[thataveragewriter]

Can I get some childhood friend reader x genji. I imagine they are saved my a cyborg and recognize him by his voice, they might hit him because they thought he was dead.

A/N: I love this lil cyborg nerd! And apparently so do yall! I’ve got so many genji requests to quench yalls thirst.

Genji x Reader - Saved

You had known the Shimada brothers for the whole duration ofyour life. Despite not coming from a wealthy family, your familywas well renowned florist whom catered for the riches and general public. Assuch, you’ve taken up the family business. Being closely associated with theShimada family, it meant you had often times spent afternoons playing with thebrothers and their parents approving for the act. You became close to theyounger shimada, Genji as Hanzo was often pulled away for being the next heirand thus attending several ceremonies and initiations for it. The pair of youwould call each other cute nicknames such as ‘sparrow’ or ‘blossom’ as you weresurrounded by immense collection of aromatic foliage. In your young age, youhadn’t acknowledged the feelings that slowly developed for the green hairedshimada.

As you grew older, you began seeing the brothers even lessuntil the point of losing complete contact with the Shimada family. Upset, youcontinued working in the family business as a florist. Sudden flash backs wouldhit and you longed for Genji’s presence and laughter. You’d remember the timesthe pair of you would sneak off to the local arcade in the centre of Hanamuraand spend all your allowances on beating the other. Your day would be filledwith laughter and delight, you’d dread leaving Genji’s side when it was time to go. It was a mutualfeeling for Genji. He loved being by your side, spending each afternoon runningaway with you. It made him feel free for a change, being cooped up in thecastle was suffocating and being with you felt liberating. The green hairedShimada began realising his sudden change of emotions towards you, yet he wasunable to vocalise them despite being pictured with the confidence of a king.

With Genji’s sudden disappearance from your life, thereremained a deep void only he could fill. You sighed as you brushed the porch of the shop, lonesome petals being dusted away with all the otherdiscarded foliage. Your mind always lingered at the memories of the past, no matterwhat everyone said you still couldn’t let go. The evening light shone a warmglow on the cold concrete, it was a soothing and nostalgic hue. As youretreated inside the shop, you didn’t notice couple of unexpected visitorslingering around the establishment. With a ring of the bell, which indicatednew customers, you heaved a sigh.

“Sorry, we’re closed for the day” you said without eventurning around.

There was a couple of deep laughter emanating from the entranceof the shop. A deep pit began growing as anxiousness began rushing through yourveins.

“Oh sweetheart, we’re not here for the flowers” One of the figuressaid. You spun around, and taking in all the intruders. There were three large males,all intentionally blocking the entrance.

“W-Well, I uh” you stuttered before, quickly turning anddashing toward the back exit.

You jumped over the counter as you heard the males yell “Grabher!” and swiftly landing on your feet. You sprinted through the shortcorridor, the sound of heavy footsteps closely following. Throwing the dooropen, you heavily exhaled and inhaled as the exhilarating feelings took over your being.Fear and adrenaline fuelled your legs as an exciting smile plastered your face.This town had been so mundane and uneventful you had previously managed to pissoff some gangsters by winning numerous rounds of poker, who knew playing it onthose arcade machines would actually pay off. So you guessed these hooliganscame to collect what they rightfully lost to you, it was to be expected. No onewould want to lose to a girl, especially large sums of money.

The back entrance had led to an empty alleyway. There wereseveral shortcuts to the main road and dead ends. Unfortunately for you and inyour adrenaline- high state, you had completely forgotten the direction of theway and turned to the furthest left turn. Your eyes widened in dismay as awall presented itself at the end of the alley. You looked over your shoulder andwatched the figures hot on your heel.

“Damn, I’m done for this time” You chuckle to yourself asyou slowed down before hitting the wall. It was several meters higher than you,being able to climb it seem impossible at this point.

You heard the heavy footsteps coming at a halt as theirchuckle echoed throughout the alley.

“You give us a hell of a chase, girl” One heaved as a smuggrin plastered on his face.

“Your fault for coming after me, after losing miserably atthe game last week” you said smugly as you, exhaled heavily.

“SHUT UP! Now be a good girl and come with us the nice andeasy way” The male who spoke before insisted as he took a step closer. Youslowly backed away until your back hit the wall.

“Well, I was never the one to go down without a fight” Yousaid as you readied your fists, legs shaking as you tried to hold your ground.

They laughed at your attempt and charged at you. You readiedyourself until a flash of green danced across your vision, instantaneouslyknocking out the thugs. You stood there in awe at the fluid movements of your rescuer.Your gaze followed intently from glowing green katana in their hand to the bodyof the figure. They glowed a soft emerald as their back faced you.

“You ought to be careful who you anger, [y/n]” The ninjaturned and faced you. His voice seem familiar despite the mechanical altercation, itmade your heart clench. Your eyes widened as you neared the figure, your handclenched over your aching heart.

“Y-you’re…No…” You began still in awe, you recognised thevoice of the one you’ve forever longed for.

“Genji…” you softly let out before retracting your arm andlanding a solid hit across his face.

You heard the ninja groan as he placed his hand over thepossibly swollen cheek.

“I’ll admit, I most likely deserved that” Genji said with ahint of laughter.

Your eyes welled up as you threw yourself at him, your armswrapped around his neck. Slightly taken aback from your sudden change, Genji letout a chuckle whilst wrapping his arms around your smaller form. The oddsensation of embracing a mostly mechanical body was certainly…new anddifferent. Questions covered your mind as it proved to be difficult tocomprehend the situation. Genji was alive! You had long thought he was dead dueto the affiliations of the Shimada family but here he is!

You pulled back, tears threatening to fall from happiness.

“You’re alive …” you softly said as you stared at the greenvisor. Genji’s own eyes welled up seeing you all grown up and still rememberinghim, it all made his heart ache.

“I’m sorry you have to see me in this form [y/n]” He beganas he turned away, ashamed of his new appearance.

“Genji! It doesn’t matter what look like! You’re alive and You’re still thesame old genji I knew back then, you’re still my sparrow” You said shyly as ablush across your face.

“My blossom, I am relieved you remember me. I’m sorry forleaving you so suddenly, I will tell you everything in due time” He explained,his gentle voice sounded. His voice carried hints of regret and shame.

You placed your hand on his cheek over his mask, reassuringhim with a gentle smile.

“I will never forget you Genji, you’re too important to me.I’m…I’m just glad you’re safe and alive” You smiled. Your heart felt with contentand relief that the most important person has returned and was safe in yourarms.

“Thank you, [y/n]” Genji replied with a loving tone.

You smiled and leaned in to kiss his cheek, the cool touchof his mask seemed to lessen your flustered face. You giggled softly as youretreated.

“I’ll make sure you don’t ever leave me again” you said with agrin.

“Of course, my blossom” He chuckled as he held your formtighter.

The deep void in your gut has finally been filled with thereunion of your loved one. The aching of your heart subsided and filled with excitementand love. It was a mutual feeling the both of you felts at the reunion, both ofyou anxious yet determined to begin a new chapter of your lives .