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robo-cryptid · 6 years ago

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You know what happens when I cut myself a little slack? I write stuff! Like Part 7 of armadillo McCree.

Armadillo Art Roundup

In this installment: Lúcio arrives for dinner, and there’s the tiniest blip of armadillo angst.

Armadillo fact: armadillos don’t actually make that much noise. They do squeak (and there is a species known for its scream, aptly named the screaming hairy armadillo) and grunt and purr, but they certainly aren’t typically as chatty as Sandy is, which Hanzo would have picked up on faster if he’d ever spent this much time around other armadillos.

Hanzo did have some mercy on his brother.

The doorbell rang soon after Genji pulled dinner off the heat, and Hanzo made sure to pluck the onion from where it had lodged in his brother’s hair. Genji felt the motion and scrubbed a hand through his hair, glaring at Hanzo on his way to answer the door.

Hanzo plated the food, topped it off with aonori and ginger. He heard two voices getting closer to the kitchen again, and only then did he realize he hadn’t thought to shoo Sandy off or sequester him. “Behave,” he muttered as Sandy moved closer, out of the doorway to the kitchen.

Genji entered laughing, followed by who could only be Lúcio. He carried a six-pack of beer in one hand, a bottle of red wine in the other.

“Watch your step,” Hanzo said, pointing at Sandy, and Lúcio startled, stared a little at the armadillo who seemed intent on staying underfoot.

Genji let out a very quiet grunt. “This is Hanzo. Sorry about his social skills. Hanzo, meet Lúcio.”

Lúcio grinned. “It’s cool, I don’t wanna hurt your friend here either.” He looked at Hanzo, right in the eye. “Genji didn’t say if you were a wine or beer kind of guy, so” -- he raised both hands -- “I brought both.” He set both on a clear space on the counter, then he reached out a hand to Hanzo. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Hanzo answered, more flatly than he intended, and he returned the handshake. He didn’t bother to hide his assessing look. Lúcio was not what he’d expected. The tattoos and his side gig as a DJ notwithstanding, he had little in common with Genji’s usual flings. He actually looked clean, for one, and despite his impressively firm grip and absolute refusal to let Hanzo intimidate him, he was relaxed about it, radiated a sort of good-natured kindness.

The handshake went on a hair longer than intended, but he caught a glimpse of Genji’s stern look at him over Lúcio’s shoulder, and he broke it off, did his best to smile politely. “I usually prefer sake,” he finally said, “but I’ll take a beer.”

Lúcio’s face broke in a grin, and he pulled a bottle out for each of them.

Dinner itself was uneventful, mostly a recap from Lúcio’s end on how he and Genji had met -- online -- and what he did in his free time -- music, video games, tinkering with various musical and electronic equipment, and getting involved with more community-organizing projects than Hanzo could keep track of. The first three explained Genji’s interest, but the last added to Hanzo’s grudging list of reasons to respect him.

“So Genji says you work with animals?” Lúcio prompted.

“At the wild rescue shelter, yes.”

“You normally bring them home?” he asked, glancing sideways at Sandy, who huddled in a corner with a little bowl of his own noodles.

Hanzo smirked. “No, but it wouldn’t be the first time for special cases.”

“So what’s special about that one? Aside from the leg?” Hanzo glanced up at Lúcio, but his face suggested he was genuinely interested, or at least working hard to be. Genji, of course, was beaming.

“He has none of the skills required for surviving in the wild.” Sandy’s head shot up, ears flicking at Hanzo as if he were prepared to be offended again. Hanzo shrugged; he was not going to apologize to an armadillo for every perceived slight, not even a strangely self-aware armadillo, and certainly not in mixed company. “He may have been a pet at some point. Hence the poor diet.”

Lúcio laughed at that. “Seems like he’s got a good home here,” he said after a moment, and Hanzo started. Despite bringing Sandy home, he hadn’t considered making it a permanent arrangement.

“It’s temporary,” he said after a moment, glancing at Sandy, who wandered away from his food.

Lúcio insisted on helping him with the dishes and equally insisted Genji, as head chef, sit out the chores. Hanzo was not at all surprised to find it was a strategy.

“Thanks for giving me a chance,” Lúcio said, refreshingly blunt as he rinsed the plates. At Hanzo’s silence, he glanced up, a wry smile on his face. “You seemed like you didn’t really want to.”

Hanzo considered it briefly, carefully handing him a soapy knife. “My brother is not known for his wise choices.” He cleared his throat. “You seem like a break in that pattern.” He looked sideways at Lúcio. “For now.”

Lúcio laughed outright, and he nodded. “I can live with that judgment.” He dried his hands off then reached for his beer again. “For now,” he repeated, grinning cheekily.

He excused himself soon enough after that, went to join Genji on the couch. Hanzo sighed and dried his own hands, turned to find Sandy lurking near the doorway. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s give them some privacy.”

Sandy followed him to his room, and Hanzo was struck with the sense that the armadillo was holding a grudge. “Are you angry with me?” he asked. Sandy looked away and gave a reluctant squeak. Hanzo hummed thoughtfully. “Because I said your stay here was temporary?” Sandy squeaked again, and Hanzo reached out to pat him carefully. “I thought you already had a home.”

Sandy made no further noises, but he did purr a little when Hanzo scratched at the little hairs under his chin, the clicks coming out slower than usual as if he couldn’t quite hold back the sound. Hanzo laughed a little, then he left Sandy to wander the room while he flopped back on his bed to scroll through his phone. He wasn’t used to being banished from his own living room; Genji had never brought home a date before, had always spent his time out at their homes, and it left Hanzo with the reminder that it had been some time since he had bothered with any sort of dating, himself.

Before he could get too deep into his thoughts about any of that, the doorbell rang again, this time quite unexpectedly.

#armadillo mccree au #mchanzo #gencio #robo writing #overwatch fanfiction #drabbles #a cliffhanger oh noes #the drama #the suspense

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robo-cryptid · 6 years ago

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Armadillo by morning, out from San Antone. Everything that I got, is the scales that I got on.

When the moon is high in that Texas sky,

I’ll be smooching a yakuza “prince.”

#robo answers #lolllll i love this???#bless you #armadillo mccree au #gnomeicecream

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robo-cryptid · 7 years ago

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Oh my godddddddddddddddddd THE LITTLE HAT

So I may have, with the help of some others ( @bluandorange, @krebkrebkreb, @red-lion-prince, @robo-cryptid, plus those in the stream last night as well), have accidentally created a Princess and the Frog esque au but Jesse is a damn ARMADILLO and Hanzo works for an animal rescue organization. As promised, Armadillo McCree wearing a tiny hat and a bandana with his serape pattern on it. ALSO! Please go check out @robo-cryptid ’s fic for this au! On a parting note, armadillos need to stop being so cute! DAMMIT!

#armadillo mccree au #overwatch fan art #jesse mccree #useless flailing

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robo-cryptid · 6 years ago

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name the fic "local armadillo won't eat bug; local gay vet in distress"

Very good headline, possibly better than the actual title I finally chose, damn it. If I could art, I would absolutely use this as inspiration, lolllll.

#robo answers #armadillo mccree au #anonymous

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robo-cryptid · 6 years ago

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youraveragejoke reblogged your post and added: “I said “I’m bored but I don’t know what I wanna do” and...”

lhgkjasghasg

i love it so much

how insulted is mccree upon receiving this slkghsa

Honestly, it’s an upgrade from the usual armadillo-shaming. At least the word “okayest” is in there. McCree will take his victories where he can get them because he likes Hanzo so much.

#youraveragejoke #robo replies #mchanzo shitposting #armadillo mccree au

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robo-cryptid · 7 years ago

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Please forgive wonky formatting, as I am posting from mobile. But here! Part 6 of armadillo McCree! Previous parts:

Armadillo Art Roundup

In this part: Hanzo shows his armadillo friend the house; Hanzo and Genji disagree on the question of armadillo agency; and there is some exposition/ character background in the guise of nerdy brother banter.

Armadillo fact: an adult nine banded armadillo can weigh anywhere from 8 to 17 pounds, and they are usually around 15 inches from snout to butt (with another 15 inches of tail). This means they are about the size of an average house cat, but heavier thanks to their armor. (McCree is about 15.5 pounds.)

Hanzo tried asking Sandy more questions as he worked out, but it turned out his rusty knowledge of magic and the range of questions he had made it difficult to restrict them to those that could be answered with only yes or no. Sandy was little help; he explored the walls of the garage with interest and only rarely looked Hanzo’s way.

After the workout, Hanzo reminded Sandy that if he found anything disturbed in the house, Sandy could still be stuck in a kennel. When Sandy seemed to acknowledge it, Hanzo shooed him out of the bathroom so he could shower. It gave him a few moments alone to go over some further questions, and Sandy was conspicuously absent when Hanzo exited to get dressed again.

He found him burrowed into his blanket near the couch; he had to have dragged it all the way from the carrier by the door. It was almost impressive, especially missing a front limb. “Are you cold?” Hanzo asked, and Sandy squeaked at him. Hanzo pulled the blanket over him, and Sandy made his strange purring sound. Hanzo assumed it meant thank you this time. “My brother will be home soon. Do you remember meeting him?” Sandy squeaked. “He is more imaginative than I am. Perhaps he will have some better questions for you.”

In the meantime, with Sandy’s permission, Hanzo picked him up with his blanket, and he bumped the thermostat up a couple degrees. Then he introduced Sandy to the skinks. Soba and Udon pressed up to the side of their tank, wiggling over each other to get a look at him; Sandy did not seem to enjoy this very much.

“They won’t hurt you,” Hanzo said. “They’re only curious. Perhaps they know you are not an ordinary armadillo.” Sandy acknowledged him with a quick purr, but he seemed no more eager than before to investigate the skinks. Hanzo thought briefly about letting them out anyway, but he wasn’t interested in finding out how far Sandy’s hesitation went, or how eager the skinks might really be to meet him. Next time, perhaps.

“They eat bugs,” Hanzo said with some amusement. Sandy huffed at him.

Hanzo wasn’t sure what to do while they waited for Genji. He let Sandy onto the couch — “mind your claws” — and he pulled out his handheld. “Do you want to see who you’re named for?” he asked, and Sandy let out a whole series of squeaks. Hanzo paged through his Pokedex until he found it. “There. That is a Sandshrew. It looks a little like you, don’t you think?” Sandy clambered into his lap and pushed closer to see. Then he blinked up at Hanzo and flicked his tongue out. Hanzo snorted. “Perhaps a distant cousin then.”

Sandy stayed there, seeming perfectly content to watch while Hanzo played. He got in the way at times, but it was a little funny, reminded Hanzo of a cat. Halfway through, it occurred to Hanzo to ask, “Do you have another name?” Sandy squeaked at him, and Hanzo hummed to himself.

Genji found them this way when he came home, loaded down with grocery bags. “I’m glad our guest is comfortable,” Genji laughed on his way to the kitchen. Hanzo carefully lowered Sandy to the floor then followed.

“He told me he has a name,” Hanzo said, and he could hear the little click of claws that said Sandy was following them.

“Is that right? Do you think it’s a normal name, or something awful that people can’t pronounce? Will we have to squeak at him in his own language?” Genji teased.

Hanzo turned to look at Sandy, who huffed and squawked at them both. “I don’t think he understands us,” he said thoughtfully. “Sandy, you understand English?” Sandy squeaked. “Do you understand Japanese?” Sandy flicked out his tongue.

Genji watched the whole exchange with his head tilted, but he politely switched back to English. “You were right that he understands,” he said with some delight. He cracked open a soda, then he looked at Sandy curiously and opened a second. He popped a straw in it and set it on the floor. Sandy licked at the straw.

“His mouth doesn’t work that way,” Hanzo said with a huff. “And he doesn’t need the sugar.” He snatched the soda away, and Sandy squawked indignantly.

“You said he’s a sentient armadillo,” Genji said with a shrug. “He can make his own choices!” Genji poured some of his own into a small sauce bowl and set it on the floor again. Sandy purred at this and slurped some of it up.

Hanzo was more than a little offended. “I should never have introduced you.” Genji only laughed.

Genji produced a heaping pile of fruit from his shopping bags then began setting aside far too many things for a dinner for two. “I hope you don’t expect us to eat all that in one sitting,” Hanzo said, arranging the fruits in their bowl.

Genji snorted. “Did you look at your messages? I sent you a reminder. Lúcio’s coming over tonight.”

Hanzo inspected a mango and began to slice. “You found out we had a possibly-magic armadillo coming home and you kept your date plans?”

“Yep. Which means you both need to be on your best behavior.” He gestured threateningly at Sandy with a knife.

“You should cancel,” Hanzo told him firmly.

“Nope. The guy works shit hours and saves actual lives every day,” Genji said, sounding a little dreamy, “and I’m not gonna see him on his new shift for like, at least a week. Even your weird armadillo can’t convince me to cancel these plans.” Sandy squawked at that, and Hanzo opened his mouth to say something, but Genji cut him off without even looking up from what he was doing. “Actual human life-saver and legitimately excellent person. Who likes me. You two can suck it up for a couple hours.”

Hanzo glanced at Genji, whose cheeks were tinted red. He looked to Sandy, who stared right back at him. He sighed and conceded the point. “We will behave ourselves.” He mashed half the mango with a fork, then set the plate on the floor for Sandy, who gave a cheerful little squeak. “But you get to explain the armadillo to your new boyfriend.”

Genji laughed. “That’s easy: ‘Hanzo has no friends and lives with his brother and three lizards, which is probably the ex-yakuza version of a spinster’.” Hanzo threw a piece of his own mango at Genji’s head; Genji dodged it and it landed with a wet plop on the counter. “‘You’ll have to forgive his bitchiness. The only dates he brings home are animals from the shelter’.” The second piece actually hit him, right in the cheek, and Genji only laughed again as he scrubbed at his face.

“If you say any of that I will tell him every embarrassing story I know. Starting with the mushroom incident.”

“You wouldn’t,” Genji gasped. “I can still poison your dinner.”

“I’m sure your life-saving nurse would love that,” Hanzo said a little smugly, and Genji hummed to himself. He turned the stove on and wordlessly handed Hanzo onions to chop.

It was only once Hanzo’s eyes had begun to water that Genji spoke again in a low, conspiratorial stage whisper: “‘Lúcio, darling, you must play along: he thinks the armadillo is his boyfriend’.” Genji failed to dodge the chunks of onion, and he laughed uproariously at his own joke as he brushed the bits off himself. Hanzo opted not to tell him about the piece still left in his hair.

#armadillo mccree au #mchanzo #robo writing #drabbles #overwatch fanfiction #now with a side of gencio

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robo-cryptid · 7 years ago

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Armadillo McCree Part 5! Previous: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Armadillo Art Roundup

In this part: we learn a little about witches. Hanzo attempts a conversation with his armadillo friend and apologizes for his earlier betrayal, and there is some brief armadillo UST maybe.

Armadillo fact: for those who missed it, armadillos can transmit leprosy to humans. This is in part because their lower body temperature, a whopping 93 degrees Fahrenheit, is particularly hospitable to the bacteria that causes it. (McCree is not one of these armadillos. He has not been an armadillo long enough to come in contact with the bacteria. He does like his serape, and possibly snuggles, to keep him warm though.)

Hanzo stared down Sandy. Sandy stared back. Sandy also stuck his tongue out at him. Hanzo huffed.

“We need to talk,” he said. Sandy’s tongue flickered at him again.

Hanzo tried to go through the possibilities. He was not well-versed in magic outside his own family, and neither he nor Genji had completed all their training, had in fact done everything they could to avoid magic entirely since they left the clan behind. He somehow suspected that even if they had finished, they would not have learned anything about armadillos.

Still, he went through the possibilities in his head. Most likely, given what he knew of witches, Sandy was slated for some nightmarish ritual. Animal sacrifices were not unheard of, even in this day and age. Peculiar animals, especially garden pests and road hazards, would be smart choices for such things; nobody would miss them. Their body parts might also be useful somehow. The witch who’d come to visit hadn’t seemed the type, but Hanzo wasn’t familiar enough with witches altogether to be confident in that assessment.

Of the less bloody possibilities, he might be a familiar. It could explain his spoiled diet and habits, the way he seemed to listen sometimes. But he was missing the leg. That did not suggest he was well cared for, even if he were a companion animal.

He picked Sandy up and set him on the desk so he could look at him. “Don’t fall,” he said, and Sandy stayed put. Hanzo sank into the desk chair. “Can you understand me?” Sandy squeaked at him. Hanzo pinched the bridge of his nose. Sandy moved about the desktop, claws clacking on the surface, and he chirruped at Hanzo.

Hanzo felt deeply foolish, but he had to know for sure. “This is very stupid,” he said aloud. If he was wrong though, there was nobody here to judge him but an actual armadillo. He straightened in the chair, and he looked right at Sandy. “I am going to ask you some questions. You squeak for yes, and for no, you can... do that tongue thing. Understand?” Sandy squeaked.

“Are you a normal armadillo?” Sandy flicked his tongue, and Hanzo snorted. “Then I must apologize for all the times I’ve insulted you.” Sandy squeaked at him.

“Did you know that woman?” Sandy paused, then he chirruped again, sounding strangely as if he were uncertain. Hanzo tried to move past it. “Do you belong to her?” Sandy paused again, then he let out a series of disgruntled squeaks, for all the world as if he had something more he was trying to say.

Hanzo was struck by the limitations of the conversation on top of its patent absurdity. “This may take some time. Would you...” he hesitated, then he texted his brother to be sure. “Would you like to come home with me? I won’t try to feed you bugs again.” Sandy squeaked.

It was easy enough to arrange with Dr. Winston. Sandy was a bizarre enough armadillo and in need of enough hands-on care that it wasn’t a terrible idea. Sandy seemed deeply offended by the prospect of riding in a cat carrier, but Hanzo coaxed him into it by suggesting that perhaps not everyone needed to know he was not a typical armadillo. Hanzo stuffed the wool blanket in there with him, and Sandy squeaked. Hanzo imagined it was appreciation. On a whim, he visited the lost and found box, and he snatched up the hat Sandy had come in with.

At home, he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with Sandy, but he felt strange leaving him in the carrier now. “You may explore. If you get into anything, I will put you in a kennel,” Hanzo warned as he let him out. Sandy took several tentative steps on the wood flooring, but he seemed to find it acceptable. Hanzo wondered briefly if he was meant to give the armadillo a tour of the house. Even considering this might be a magic armadillo, the thought seemed like too much.

Hanzo instead set his shoes by the door and went back to his bedroom. He stripped out of the scrubs and pulled on shorts and an old t-shirt to work out. When he turned, Sandy was there at the door he’d left open; he hopped into the air and scrambled back a few feet, as if Hanzo had startled him, or as if he had been caught at something.

Hanzo snorted at him. “You may go in there too. I doubt you will find anything particularly interesting.”

Armadillo Art Roundup

#armadillo mccree au #drabbles #robo writing #mchanzo #back on this bullshit #let's add brief armadillo ust to the list of phrases i never thought i'd use

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robo-cryptid · 7 years ago

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Armadillo McCree Part 4! Previous: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Armadillo McCree Art Roundup: here!

In this part: more armadillo shaming, belly rubs, a betrayal and a visitor! The only in-fic link is a repeat this time, but this 10-minute video is a(n occasionally gross) educational delight.

Your armadillo fact for this part: a single female nine-banded armadillo can give birth to up to 56 baby dillos in her lifetime, all in groups of identical quadruplets. They can also delay their own gestation! (There will not be armadillo mpreg.* These are just my favorite armadillo facts so far.)

Once a day, someone — usually Hanzo — took Sandy out to the small enclosed yard to see if he might do, well, anything that looked like typical armadillo behavior. They half hoped he might enjoy digging for his own food, but he wouldn’t dig at all. Hanzo watched him sniff about, and he did take a little time to trot about the yard. He seemed to enjoy the freedom at least. He did little else though, and he kept glancing back at Hanzo as if he needed instruction. Sandy was still the strangest armadillo Hanzo had ever met, and the animal most in need of hands-on attention.

“This should be all instinct,” Hanzo huffed at him. Sandy squeaked back. “Don’t make excuses, Sandy. Go dig.” Sandy chirruped at him and waddled closer again. “I’m not giving you any more watermelon until you dig.” This did very little to persuade him. He butted up against Hanzo’s leg and gave another squeak.

Hanzo sighed at him and crouched down to give him a little push. Sandy wouldn’t budge; he was surprisingly strong. “If you aren’t going to eat properly, you should at least exercise.” Hanzo gave him another gentle push, and Sandy scrambled away only to circle around to Hanzo’s other side. Hanzo reached out to pat him until he circled back. “Mischievous,” Hanzo scolded with a quiet laugh. When he reached out again, Sandy repeated the action.

It wasn’t running or digging, but at least he was playing. It would do. Besides, it was cute. Hanzo humored him for a time, listened to him squeak and wondered what might go on in an armadillo’s mind. Eventually Sandy seemed to tire of it and nudged Hanzo again. Hanzo took him back inside, unsure which of them was herding the other.

It was becoming almost routine for Sandy to follow him about throughout the day. Given that he wouldn’t burrow or use the wheel or even really run properly, as long as continued to be so docile, Hanzo figured it was the best exercise he could get. It concerned him though. He wondered how he was supposed to release Sandy again when he had absolutely none of the survival skills an armadillo was supposed to have. Their facility wasn’t built for long-term captivity, but Sandy was so unsuited for survival that he would have done poorly anywhere else.

“What am I supposed to do with you, Sandy?” Hanzo asked as he led them to the back. Sandy chirruped at him. When they got to the back, there was a clean basket of towels ready to be put away with Sandy’s red blanket on top. Sandy squealed and raced for it, scrabbled with his good paw at the side of the basket, and Hanzo carefully pried him away to a flurry of indignant squeaks. “You can’t have it back yet.” Sandy gave that high little honk again, and Hanzo laughed. “I know it’s yours. But you’re dirty, and we just washed it.”

Sandy stared at him and squeaked again like he’d understood him, and Hanzo only shook his head. He had already set out a basin of water before their romp outside so it could come to room temperature. Now he knelt beside it and tapped the side of it. They had gotten better with this; Sandy came right to the basin, squeaking all the while, and clambered in on his own, splashed happily in the water.

Hanzo held the scrub brush in his other hand. “Brush today, or are you just going to play?” Sandy butted his head against Hanzo’s hand until Hanzo scratched at the fuzz around his chin, made his ears flick happily. Hanzo decided to scrub him while he was willing to be still; Sandy wiggled and purred in response, a quick, clicking sound. “You’re being very good,” Hanzo cooed back. “How would you like some fruit salad after lunch?” Sandy only kept purring, tongue flicking out across Hanzo’s knuckles.

Hanzo laughed and scrubbed him clean, then let him splash around for a moment. He wallowed in the water again, rolled around in it and sprayed a little at Hanzo with a flutter of his ears. Hanzo left him to play if he wanted, but as Hanzo left his side, Sandy scrambled out of the plastic basin after him, trailing water all over the linoleum in his rush to get to the laundry basket. He scrabbled at the side of it again, and the whole basket tipped on its side, spilling the towels out on top of him.

Hanzo sighed. “You were being so good too.” He snatched the blanket away before Sandy could get that wet too, then did his best to dig Sandy out of the pile. He kept rooting around in there, though, undoing all Hanzo’s earlier work. “I just folded these.” He finally got a hand on either side of his shell and tugged him out. Sandy let out his little honk, writhing in Hanzo’s grip. Hanzo wouldn’t let go though. “Do not scratch me,” he said sternly before he pulled Sandy to his chest. Sandy went still, tucked between Hanzo’s arm and chest, while he freed up his other hand to grab one of the towels.

He rubbed him dry, then he set him back down on the floor and turned the basket over on top of him. Sandy honked, offended, and pushed it across the floor. Hanzo let him entertain himself that way while he set to refolding all the towels. Sandy honked at him again, and Hanzo could hear the scuttle of his claws and the quiet scrape of the basket before it bumped into him. “You made me refold the towels. You're in time out.”

Hanzo put a stack of towels up on one of the shelves and turned to find Sandy pushing the basket at the pile that was left. He got it up on top of several towels and wiggled his way under the edge of the basket, shimmied his body until he was free. “Impressive,” Hanzo said. It had almost seemed deliberate. It was strangely clever for an armadillo. Sandy squeaked back at him. “Oh no, I’m still upset with you. I have to fold the rest of these.”

He made quick work of it though, and Sandy’s pitiful squeaking as they walked by his blanket made Hanzo cave. He sighed and grabbed it, then bent down to pick him up. “We have to walk past the foxes again,” he told him, and Sandy went still, let himself be carried with his blanket wadded beneath him, Hanzo idly rubbing at his leathery belly.

They ate lunch in the office, Sandy with some water and a little plate of chopped, steamed carrots, which he ate happily, and a bowl of writhing earthworms he inevitably refused to touch. Hanzo ate another sandwich, this time from home. He saved a couple tiny scraps of the meat, again carefully inspected for oil before he put it on his plate.

When he had finished his sandwich and Sandy was finished with the carrots, Hanzo offered him the fruit salad he had brought from home. Sandy was so excited he ate a piece of banana right from Hanzo’s fingers before he went for the bowl, tongue flickering madly. He got a few bites in before he stopped abruptly, tongue still flicking and his head shaking. He stared at Hanzo and honked, sounded almost angry.

“I thought you loved my fruit salad, Sandy,” Hanzo said gently. Sandy let forth an indignant series of squeaks. Hanzo felt as if he was being scolded, could almost hear him saying traitor. “Look, there’s banana, there are blueberries. All your favorites.” Right alongside the ground mealworm and the few tiny beetles he’d tried to sneak in there. Sandy backed away, still squeaking noisily. Hanzo sighed. “You’re right. It was rude. You’re very clever. That should have worked.”

Hanzo made it up to him by offering the little scraps of chicken on his plate. He didn’t often share his lunch, but they were not sure yet what else could substitute for all the nutrition he was missing from the bugs he wasn’t eating. However angry Sandy had been, he still let Hanzo pet a hand down over his armor. “I’m sorry I tried to trick you,” he said, and Sandy grunted at him. “But you will get very sick if you don’t eat well.” Sandy snuffled at his hands and let him continue to pet him.

There was a sharp knock at the door that caused Sandy to jump, a quick vertical shot straight in the air by over a foot, and Hanzo burst into laughter. He immediately felt bad about it, and he gathered Sandy close, swept him up to hold him as he stood, rubbing at his belly. Sandy purred and flicked his tongue out again. Hanzo opened the door like that, and Lena went a little wide-eyed taking them in.

“That is the world’s worst and sweetest armadillo,” she said with a laugh.

“He is a terror,” Hanzo answered. “Did you need something?”

Lena very plainly worked to look as professional as possible. “There’s someone at the front desk. I wasn’t sure how to deal with her? Could you...?”

“Of course.” He didn’t really think about taking Sandy with him.

At the desk stood a tall, brown-skinned woman, dark hair pulled out of her face in a ponytail. She had a tattoo under one eye, a black line that ended in a curl and seemed strangely familiar. She took one look at him and laughed.

“Can I help you?” Hanzo asked, trying to push down the irritation. He was less skilled with people than with animals, and her strange laughter tested his limited patience.

She bit her lip, made a sound in her throat that was surely choking down another laugh. “You have my armadillo,” she said.

Hanzo looked back and forth between her and Sandy, who was now wriggling in his arms, demanding to be put down. “Excuse me?” he said as he lowered Sandy gently to the floor.

“He’s my pet. I came to take him home.”

Hanzo felt immediately suspicious. It wasn’t out of the question that Sandy might have been raised in captivity, although Hanzo was not sure what to make of an owner who so clearly left him ill-prepared for being an actual armadillo. “What does he eat at home?” he found himself asking.

“Meat? Bugs?” she asked. She seemed to be staring at him awfully hard, concentrating hard on his face.

Hanzo stared right back. “Really? What are his favorites?”

She pursed her lips, plainly irritated with him. “Worms,” she said very firmly.

Hanzo narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m sure you understand that an animal rescue is unlikely to give you an animal without some assurance that you know how to care for it.”

“You can’t just keep my pet,” she said, her voice lower now. The temperature in the room felt like it dropped several degrees.

Hanzo only raised an eyebrow at her. “I shouldn’t have to explain to someone like you why we don’t simply hand out animals.” He looked at the tattoo under her eye again. “Bring me proof he’s yours and that you know how to properly care for him, and we can revisit the discussion.”

She lingered, tried to argue, but he stood his ground. Eventually she left, plainly frustrated by the whole encounter. Sandy had been scratching around under the desk during the discussion, and Hanzo picked him up again, took him back to his office, and locked the door. He let Sandy wander around his office while he pulled out his phone to text his brother. He already had one unread message from him.

[Genji] >how’s ur day? mine super sucks!!!

[Hanzo] >Fantastic. >Just met a witch.

* “There will not be armadillo mpreg” is another phrase I never thought I’d use. This fic is an adventure in so many ways.

Armadillo Art Roundup

#mchanzo #armadillo mccree au #jesse mccree #is an armadillo #hanzo shimada #drabbles #robo writing #overwatch fanfiction

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