#background mchanzo

[the-shotce-newsletter]

Quick YeeHan for @sweet-ree ! Pressed for time, sorry I didn’t get to the ‘back panel’ 🤣

[yeehanfrf]

Week 10 Recs: When We Were Young

The Week 10 theme was "When We Were Young," all about fics featuring young (or younger) Yeehan! This means fics ranging from their teen years to their late twenties, and all manner of vague ages in between, but the point is: they're all pre-canon. Behind the cut, you'll find the recs gathered from the Yeehan community, organized by rating and then alphabetically by title!

General Audiences

You can't take it with you by vaguely_concerned [2,304 words] Reccer comment: "its a series but it works on its own too"

Canon AU where the Shimada family and the Deadlock gang used to do business, Hanzo and Cassidy had a thing… and then Cassidy gets the ‘offer’ from Overwatch.

Teen and Up

Joy of Tournaments by Frankincense and Dunmyrrh (rawrawrawr) [21,783 words] Reccer comment: "Ok so this is also an AU and probably kind of niche, but I thought The Joy of Tournaments was really cute."

Between strenuous coursework, extracurricular activities, and trying to live up to his father’s expectations, Hanzo doesn’t have a lot of patience when it comes to his new debate partner’s laid-back attitude. While he might have joined Overwatch Academy’s Forensics team for the sake of a pretty note on his college applications, the experience becomes less about setting himself up for success and more about the unexpected bond forged between himself and Jesse McCree in the arena of competitive public speaking.

For McHanzo Week 2016, days Four ("Role Reversal") and Five ("Young Love").

Lights by vaguely_concerned [3,445 words] Reccer comment: "Young yeehan, Hanzo comes to Cole's rescue 🥺 first kiss 🥹"

Cole has never worked with a partner before.

Search Results by Tevokkia [WIP; 105,941 words] Reccer comment: "This high school AU is so sweet and a little meta."

Hanzo Shimada has run out of things to read and sets himself to browsing for recently-finished works. One story by "HighNoon" stands out, and he supposes the writing for the first few paragraphs is good enough to overlook that it's a Western AU.

Jesse McCree had just posted the last chapter of his current fic last night, and today there are a bunch of comments that could practically be chapters themselves. DoubleDragon turns out to be every writer's wet dream, and the comments section of his works are soon looking like a bunch of chat threads.

But what happens when HighNoon doesn't have anything left for DoubleDragon to read?

Mature

Lifelines by Chopsticks [11,688 words]

In theory, McCree thought it an easy enough job: go undercover, meet the yakuza informant, leave a convincing trail of a love affair for eyes that track. Nothing to it. Until said informant had to go and make him feel something real. For far too many years.

Explicit

Black Hole Sun by t_pock [4,256 words]

For some reason he hasn’t yet tossed his hand and found somewhere less foul to cut a deal. Something has him planted with his wingtips on the filthy floor instead of calling his chauffeur to return him to his hotel and ordering one of his lieutenants to burn this suit.   It may or may not be the hand between his legs.   Or, the Shimada scion encounters an unknown agent.

The Journalist and the Scion by ChillieBean [9,498 words]

“This is the target.”

A tablet is dropped in front of Cole and he turns it around, shifting his cigar from one side of his mouth to the other with his tongue. He speed reads the brief, the usual pre-mission background, but his jaw hangs on one word.

“Shimada,” Cole breathes, taking his cigar between his knuckles before it drops in his lap. “Finally making a move?”

“Sure are,” Gabe answers, grinning as he leans back in his chair.

Lighting One Candle with Another Candle by motorghost [6,409 words] Reccer 1 comment: "I must admit it's rare for me to like young Yeehan stories, but Lighting One Candle with Another Candle by Motorghost is the only exception."

Reccer 2 comment: "A favorite smut fic that introduced me to this great writer."

It's winter in Hanamura. Cole Cassidy is on his first away mission. Shimada Hanzo is first son of the man Blackwatch is doing business with. Gabriel Reyes is going to get mad.

Memento by egoblow [5,128 words]

Get in. Get out. Seduce and distract then retrieve the intel. It seems simple enough. Easy. Amateur stuff really. Gabe had whored him out enough times in the name of Blackwatch that Jesse considers himself the master of honeypot missions.

Not that Jesse minds. Not one bit. He wouldn't agree to it if he did. The rush that comes with seducing some of the most powerful people on the planet sends such a thrill through his body that no aphrodisiac can match. He lets his gaze linger on his target a while longer and decides that tonight's target is the best yet.

---

Blackwatch!McCree seduces Scion!Hanzo in a honeypot scheme.

Not That I'm Complaining by robocryptid [28,981 words] Reccer 1 comment: "Not That I'm Complaining of course"

Reccer 2 comment: "no young Yeehan list is complete without Not That I'm Complaining"

An AU in which both Shimadas join Blackwatch, and Cole Cassidy falls in love dick first. Approximately 50/50 porn to feelings.

Scalpel or Bullet by robocryptid [Series; 14,374 words] Reccer comment: "if scion hanzo and blackwatch cole are fair game, then you have to include this steamy series"

Scion Hanzo meets Blackwatch Cassidy. That's pretty much the whole story.

Throwing Stones at the Stars by robocryptid [WIP; 92,329 words] Reccer 1 comment: "im sorry but i HAVE to rec throwing stones at the stars bc it gave me big brainworms"

Reccer 2 comment: "this is THE young McHanzo/Yeehan fic for me"

Reccer 3 comment: "loved the chemistry and the plot and the side characters/ocs. the asking questions scene in chapter 3 was very memorable. unrelated but i think this author predicted cassidy's new name??"

Despite Hanzo's competence, the Shimadas chose to hire a new bodyguard for the heirs. The elders found the one they wanted: an American mercenary so deadly some called him a demon. He was remarkably skilled, insolent, and above all mysterious. Genji, of course, liked him right away, but Hanzo had his doubts.

---

And that's a wrap on all our young(er) Yeehan fics! Thank you so much to everyone who submitted a fic rec. If you happen to find a fic you love using this rec list, be sure to leave the author kudos and a comment! Even "I found this fic because someone recced it" is a lovely thing to say.

Come back next time for Week 11: "He's a Magic Man," for all your mystical, magical, fantastical AUs.

In the meantime, you can also check out the Week 9 recs here, or check the full list of past and future themes here.

[xpaintedladyx]

Yo can the Yeehan/Mchanzo artists help me find a picture? Seriously I’ve been searching for literal hours to find one freaking picture. Cassidy is taking a selfie while in background Hanzo is half dead from having a baby. Cassidy is way too excited. So if anyone could help me find this picture/ artist thank you in advance.

[fireflyquill]

Prompt number: 2 (”“Just follow me, I know the area.””) Fandom (AU if applicable): Overwatch (Background McHanzo) Rating: G Warnings/Tags: 

Prompt List | Prompt 1 | Prompt 9 | Prompt 8 |

---

“Just follow me, I know the area.”

“How could you possibly know the area?” Ayumi scrunched her nose into a much cuter version of Hanzo’s scowl.

Genji grinned at the resemblance. “I have been here before.”

“But I thought that you said this is—”

Genji raised a hand to silence her and Ayumi immediately obeyed, looking to him for instruction. To kill time while Hanzo and Jesse were still on mission, Genji had decided to take it upon himself to train his young niece. So far, she had proved to be an excellent student—far better than he had ever been.

“We take the path to the left,” Genji decided. “Less chance of being seen. Because the first rule is…?”

“’Flow like water, move as the wind,” Ayumi recited in Japanese, scrunching her nose. “You’ve not told me yet what that means.”

“The day you find out is the day you become a true warrior,” Genji replied solemnly, glad that his mask hid his amusement. Hanzo had used exactly the same trick on him years ago, and he’d never thought he would have the chance to do it himself.

Ayumi looked skeptical, proving already that she was much smarter than he had ever been at her age.

“Come, join me up here,” Genji chided to break her attention. Ayumi scaled the tree. “Look. Tell me what you see.”

Ayumi frowned. “Trees.”

“To the untrained eye,” Genji nodded. “But if you look harder…”

“Ooh!” Ayumi perked up. “Smoke.”

“Yes. Smoke. Let’s investigate.”

They meandered around the woods for some time, encountering no trouble. Genji began to wonder whether they’d perhaps taken a wrong turn when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Look out!” Genji shouted, turning to back her up.

Ayumi squealed and managed to dodge a set of shuriken that hit the tree behind her instead.

“Use what we’ve practiced,” Genji commanded.

Ayumi nodded. “Tajū Kage Bunshin no Jutsu!”

Her form split into five, each darting into a different direction. They easily located and subdued the assassin.

“Nice work!” Genji was impressed and could not mask the pride in his voice. “Someday you too, niece, will be the next hokag—”

“I am not seeing this.”

Genji and Ayumi turned with matching guilty expressions to face Hana, who had stood at the doorway of the rec room, arms crossed. They meekly dropped their controllers.

“Because you did not log into my account to access the special beta of the Naruto game that they gave me for promotional purposes,” Hana growled, stalking towards Genji, finger raised. “And you did not just save over my progress you…you…” Hana’s eyes slid sideways to look at Ayumi’s wide, (intentionally exaggerated) innocent eyes. Genji was looking at Hana horrified, slowly moving his hands to cover Ayumi’s ears. Hana bared her teeth and switched to Korean.

Genji leaned towards Ayumi slowly. “Now, the training truly begins.”

Ayumi nodded solemnly.

“Smoke bomb!” They yelled in unison.

Hana screamed as the room filled with dust.

“You are dead meat, mediocre Sasuke!” Hana bellowed, chasing after their laughter as it disappeared down the halls.

---

Genji: Sasuke? I believe you have me mistaken for my brother. Ayumi: *surprised pikachu face* You take that back, uncle!!!

---

Notes

Tajū Kage Bunshin no Jutsu is a special move (let's face it, it's a special move) that Naruto can perform where he creates a number of shadow clones. Hokage is the leader of Naruto's village. Sasuke is a character in Naruto :P

[handstitchedcircuitboards]

Hanzo and Fareeha share a beer

I’ll stick to drabbles, I said. Like 500 words max, I said. @bluandorange Here’s a Thing.

A Little External Perspective

[classywastelandbread-blog]

Nothing Gold

A continuation of Eden Sank to Grief and Dawn Goes Down to Day. This time the Hanahaki is kind of in the background...this time I wanted to focus on how it affects everyone else rather than the person choking on the petals and their love interest. 

Zenyatta-heavy...maybe even Genyatta if you squint. I purposefully wrote it somewhat vague so y’all can imagine what you like. 

Hopefully this is less depressing than the other two.

“My student,” Zenyatta said, the orbs around his neck gently spinning in the pull of their lazy orbit. “I sense great disquiet within you. What ails you?”

Almost immediately Genji slumped out of his proper form. He shoved himself to his feet and paced. “I tried, master,” he said, his defeated tone so at odds with the agitation he gave off. “I tried. I spent years learning forgiveness and acceptance and how to…” he sucked in a breath and tipped his head back to stare at the way the boughs of the trees painted clouds in the sky as he gathered himself. “It took me so long to learn how to forgive him and to want to repair…everything between us. And now there is nothing – can be nothing – because he cut his heart out.”

Zenyatta hummed, somewhat unsurprised by the outburst. As a healer – mental, physical, spiritual – he had known of Hanzo’s particular affliction and as such had counseled him. No doubt had Genji been paying attention he would have realized this but it was not something he would voice out loud to his student. Not like this.

“Is that not selfish of you, my student?” Zenyatta asked, turning his faceplate to watch the play of the sun on the crests of the waves as they came to break upon the cliff.

Like a caged animal, Genji snorted. “He took the easy path. If only he had…”

“I heard a story once,” Zenyatta said when Genji trailed off, carefully weighing his words against confidentiality and propriety. “Of an Empty Woman who had her heart cut out and yet she still married the man who had not returned her love.”

Genji scoffed. “I don’t see…why didn’t he just tell them?”

“That is not our place to guess,” Zenyatta pointed out gently. “Nor is it our place to judge the choices and actions of others, not for such a personal choice.”

“I just…I thought he had been doing so good,” Genji said, a little brokenly. His scarf flirted with the brisk sea breeze as he settled back on the ground beside Zenyatta.

The monk hummed in agreement. “Is, my student; he is doing so well.”

“But he has no heart,” Genji snapped.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, broken only by the soft chimes of Zenyatta’s orbs.

“I’m sorry, master,” Genji said after a while, bowing his head.

“I do not have a heart, either,” Zenyatta pointed out. “Nor does Bastion or Orisa. Do you think us unable to feel?”

Genji’s head snapped up. “It’s not the same.”

Zenyatta hummed. In his memory core he played back one of his many confidential talks with Hanzo, replayed the wistful look on his face that always seemed to herald a round of hacking coughs that brought up blood, bile, and tragically cheerful petals.

The blood is a recent development, Angela Ziegler had said. It is why we are pushing forward his surgery. Her lips pinched, the only betrayal of her personal opinion of Hanzo’s choice. We need to verify that he is of sound mind and understands what is about to happen. She had hoped that he would change Hanzo’s mind but knew that he wouldn’t even try – one of the reasons that she had asked him to rather than pursue this task on her own.

The pamphlet that she gave him was ridiculous – and she knew it by the disgusted twist of her lips so he didn’t comment on it. A silhouette of a couple holding hands as they walked into the sunset, rose petals littering the path behind them. From the graphics alone it looked to be at least a decade old – perhaps even older than Zenyatta himself. In elegant calligraphy more belonging on the cover of a romance novel it read, Hanahaki and You.

It’s the best pamphlet out there, Angela Ziegler said, looking and sounding like it killed her to admit it. Despite its… she had waved her hands vaguely and Zenyatta had nodded to show that he understood.

His thoughts and memories took up less than a second, run on a secondary processor. “How is it different, my student?” Zenyatta asked.

Genji looked away. “Because he is not my brother,” he admitted quietly.

Thoughtfully, Zenyatta hummed. He asked, even though he already knew the answer, having done extensive research on the topic before speaking to Hanzo as Angela Ziegler had requested, “The removal of Hanahaki blossoms does not affect memory, correct?”

“No…”

Zenyatta nodded. “Has his physical body changed except for the removal of a tumor that would have killed him and the addition of a scar?”

“No,” Genji said. “But-”

“Does he remember you as his brother? Does he care for you as his brother?” Zenyatta asked even though he knew the answer already. “Does he still care for the team?”

Genji whipped his head to face Zenyatta. “But he is not my brother!”

The echoes of his outburst seemed to fade very slowly. “Can the same not be said of you, my pupil?” Genji deflated slightly, turning his face from his master. Zenyatta continued, “Did he not say the same things to you when you invited him here? Did he not ask you, how could you be my brother if I had killed him? How many times did he say of you, that thing is not my brother?”

“But I did not choose to cut out my heart,” Genji snapped and it was the straw that broke the camel’s back; he vaulted over the edge of the cliff and clambered away.

Zenyatta hummed and his orbs spun. He listened to the roar of the waves and felt the disquiet that yawned in Genji’s soul – and the void in Hanzo’s. “I am sorry that you had to hear that, Hanzo.”

“Do not be,” the elder Shimada said in his strangely empty voice as he turned the corner of the path and entered the little clearing where the monk sat. “There is no reason to apologize to someone that cannot feel sadness or remorse.”

“Perhaps,” Zenyatta said mildly. “Do you regret your decision?”

Hanzo shrugged as he slipped into perfect seiza. “I cannot feel regret or guilt,” he said, tipping his head back like a flower turning toward the sun. “I can hardly feel the warmth of the sun on my face. It is there but there is nothing in me to care about it.”

A part of Zenyatta wanted to ask more but there was no tactful way to do it. Despite Hanzo being “heartless”, despite knowing that he couldn’t hurt the man physically or emotionally, Zenyatta still saw no reason to cross that line.

“I remember emotion though,” Hanzo said after a pause. “I think that if I could, I would…I would not regret what I did but I would regret the pain it is causing everyone else.”

Zenyatta hummed. He absently sent an orb to bob around Hanzo. It made a single wobbly rotation and returned to him. There is nothing there to heal, it seemed to say to him. “Time can heal,” he said.

The archer tilted his head to look at him. His eyes were blank, empty; there was no pride or joy or peace. It was as if Zenyatta stared into the eyes of a statue but even a statue showed more emotion than Hanzo could. The thought saddened Zenyatta. “Time will not heal this,” Hanzo murmured.

Arguments between the brothers weren’t uncommon but in recent months there had been noted improvement.

Today marked the first day since Hanzo’s recovery that they argued. It did not go well.

Genji drew his ōdachi and Hanzo didn’t flinch away from touching a blade to defend himself – he drew Genji’s wakizashi and blocked a swing that in the past he would simply have dodged. It was fortunate that Genji was so startled, so surprised, because it allowed McCree to step in and separate them.

In the past, before his surgery, Hanzo would have shaken, would have broken something inside to merely touch the hilt or scabbard of the blade. This Hanzo now, the one without fear or pain or guilt, was almost the master swordsman he once was over a decade ago. (It didn’t work that way, being so long away from a blade and being able to take it up again with the same strength and skill but that didn’t mean that Hanzo couldn’t.)

Now it was Genji that shied away – the image of his brother holding a sword ingrained in his memory forever. He ran while Hanzo calmly wiped down the wakizashi and slipped it back into its scabbard.

“You should go after him,” Hanzo said blankly to Zenyatta as McCree tugged him out of the kitchen. “I have hurt him.”

Genji was in the midst of a panic attack when Zenyatta caught up to him. Used to this even though he hadn’t seen it for quite some time, Zenyatta knelt on the ground and rolled one of his orbs through the air. Genji caught it. “He would have killed me.”

“No,” Zenyatta disagreed. “He was defending himself.”

“What’s stopping him now?” Genji asked bitterly. “If his guilt is not there to keep him in check?”

Zenyatta gave out a buzzing sigh. “Oh, my student,” he murmured sadly.

“I should speak to someone else of this,” Hanzo said the next time they met in an official capacity. “I do not mean to imply that you would, but I do not want to cause you to choose between myself or my brother.”

“Is want an emotion?” Zenyatta wondered.

Hanzo cocked his head to the side. “No,” he said. “I cannot explain it. It is not a feeling but I can want.”

“Do you often want?”

The archer considered that again. “Yes,” he said. “I want my brother to be happy. I want…him to be happy. I want my team to be safe. I want often.”

Zenyatta hummed and his orbs spun. “You do not put me in such a position,” he said carefully.

“But I am capable of it,” Hanzo pointed out. “You care deeply for Genji though in what capacity I cannot tell and I do not want to know.” He tilted his head and if his voice had not been so flat, Zenyatta would have thought that he was teasing. “I do not want to put you in such a position.”

“Does it make you uncomfortable to speak of this?” Hanzo wanted to know.

“Discomfort is something I cannot feel.”

Zenyatta regarded Hanzo. None of his orbs would stick for very long with Hanzo before returning to Zenyatta’s orbit though he could still sense the void within Hanzo’s soul. “If you do not want me here – independent from not wanting me to feel a conflict between your emotions and your brother’s – then we can figure out an alternative solution.”

“It does not matter to me,” Hanzo replied. “I cannot care but I know that you can.”

Life went on but the brothers’ relationship soured further.

“We could have two swordsmen,” Winston suggested somewhat wistfully during a team meeting. He peered at Hanzo who stared impassively back. “There are a lot of possibilities that are opened up now.”

He looked surprised when Hanzo said, as ever in his flat voice, “No. I will not.”

“Why not?” Winston wanted to know and McCree’s face contorted into an expression of concern.

“Just because I can pick up a blade does not mean that I want to,” Hanzo said. “I will remain as I am.”

The team was quiet for a long moment. “Want is an emotion,” Genji said with painful hope in his voice.

“No, it’s not,” McCree told him far gentler than Hanzo could.

There was a long moment of awkward silence as Genji visibly deflated. Hanzo broke it and said, “Just because there can be two swordsmen does not mean that there should be.”

“Just because we can have two snipers doesn’t mean we should,” Soldier 76 snapped back. “You should consider other options for the team – it’s not all about you.”

Hanzo shrugged. “What about healers?” Ana asked sharply and Soldier 76 flinched. “We have four on the team – do you wish to switch one of us to another role? Last time I checked, you hadn’t seemed too opposed to the extra healing in the field.”

They scheduled extra training without another peep about Hanzo’s role.

It was McCree – biased though he may be – that noticed Hanzo limping later that night after sparring. “My arm is stiff as well,” Hanzo said neutrally when he was asked at the dinner table.

“Does it hurt?” Angela Ziegler asked, her forehead creasing with worry.

“Empty Ones do not feel pain,” Hanzo replied.

He had partially dislocated his hip, they found after running scans, and the muscles of his shoulder and chest were red and inflamed, his skin bruised around his scar. If he was able to, Zenyatta would have breathed a sigh of relief when one of his orbs finally “stuck” to Hanzo and lingered there. He and Angela Ziegler watched on the live scan as swelling reduced, bruising faded, and his hip popped back into its socket.

“We need to work around you in a different way,” Zenyatta told Hanzo thoughtfully. “You say you cannot feel pain or fatigue?”

“No,” Hanzo replied.

Zenyatta nodded thoughtfully. “Blackwatch employed Empty Ones,” Angela Ziegler said, spitting the name out like it was poison. “They were known for it. We could speak with McCree and Genji about what they used to do.”

“Blackwatch agents were expendable,” McCree said when they asked him a few minutes later. He had been lingering in the waiting area with Genji who left as soon as he saw that Hanzo was alright. “We didn’t quite work as a team or care about each other’s well-being more than to ensure that they could continue the mission.”

Angela Ziegler’s lips were pressed thin. “Long-term that is a terrible idea,” she said.

“Ain’t no one said it was a good mindset.”

“What fail-safes were in place to keep an agent moving?” Hanzo wanted to know.

McCree shrugged. “None. If they could walk, they’d walk. If they couldn’t, they informed us and were left behind or shot.”

No one seemed to like that answer (Zenyatta mused to himself that it was quite difficult to tell what Hanzo thought of this, if anything) and Angela Ziegler drummed her fingers on her crossed arms. “I’m pulling you from all missions for the next two weeks,” she informed Hanzo who nodded once. After a brief pause as if expecting him to argue, she continued, “We need to find out how to work with you to ensure that your health in the short- and long-term remains…”

“Healthy?” Zenyatta suggested and she made a face at him.

Hanzo nodded again. “Very well,” he said. He and McCree both glanced down at their coms as they chirped with a scheduled alarm.

“Dinner time,” McCree told the healers. “We almost missed it. Is there anything else?” When Zenyatta and Angela Ziegler shook their heads, McCree waved and ushered Hanzo out.

When the door had closed behind them, Angela Ziegler slumped and Zenyatta sent an orb to bob around her head. He released a staticky sigh as he felt the reverb of it as it spun in her orbit. “I regret agreeing to this,” she confided in Zenyatta. “It hurts to see him so…”

Thinking back to his conversation with Genji on the cliffs, Zenyatta let out a buzzing sigh.

Zenyatta watched Hanzo. He was certain that Hanzo was aware – being Empty didn’t mean that his senses or instincts were dulled, after all – but he made no show of hiding anything.

“You are upset,” Hanzo observed the next time they met. “I am making you upset because I am Empty.”

Zenyatta carefully considered that before answering. “Not upset,” he said at last. “I am curious but I do not want to pry. I am concerned but there is nothing I can do.”

“Your orbs will not stay with me,” Hanzo said, his eyes dropping to the gentle orbit they made around Zenyatta’s waist. “It unnerves you.”

Just because he’s Heartless doesn’t mean that he can’t see, Zenyatta reminded himself. “I sense…I cannot put it in words. I can feel the void in you and it goes against all of my instincts to not help you.”

“But you cannot,” Hanzo murmured. “And that also upsets you.”

“Yes.”

Hanzo hummed but said nothing more. He let Zenyatta change the subject.

“How do you think you are…transitioning to this way of life?” Angela Ziegler had given him a specific set of questions now and he wanted to get through them. This was for his health and his file but Zenyatta, perhaps a little biased, wanted to get to other things – like his relationship with his brother.

“McCree…helps.”

Zenyatta nodded. “Can you think of something we can do to help?”

“I cannot feel anything,” Hanzo pointed out. “That is a not a good question to ask me.”

“Dr. Ziegler asked me to ask you,” Zenyatta said gently.

“I understand.”

Zenyatta carefully considered his words. “I do not think there is much that we can do,” he admitted. “But we all need to learn together as a team. Perhaps I am a bit…biased but…”

“You wish to ask me about Genji.”

“Yes.”

Hanzo bowed his head. “I see that I hurt him,” he said. “I cannot change that I do. To him I am no longer his brother.”

“I wish I could disagree,” Zenyatta said with a sigh. “But…”

He watched as Hanzo lifted a hand to his chest to rest over the crossed scar left behind by his surgery. “I heard him the day we tried to meditate together,” he reminded Zenyatta. “He believes I took the easy way out. Perhaps I did.”

Zenyatta sighed helplessly.

A week later, Zenyatta found his wayward student sprawled out over the edge of the roof, looking down at the garden area. It was his favorite brooding spot and when Zenyatta knew that something troubled him, he could always find him there in a similar slump. “Good morning, my student,” he said, gently rolling an orb to Genji who let it bounce in the air beside his elbow.

“Good morning, master,” Genji mumbled back.

“You missed breakfast,” Zenyatta pointed out. “Hanzo made miso and pork for you.”

Genji snorted and turned his head away as Zenyatta drifted up beside him. “I’m not hungry.” He jumped when Zenyatta placed the tray down. A bowl of rice, a covered bowl of miso, a sliced chunk of marinated pork, and a fried egg met his stare. “I don’t want to eat.”

“I will not force you,” Zenyatta said gently. He paused for a moment then asked, “What has upset you, my student?”

Despite his words, Genji unclipped his mask and poured the miso into his mouth, leaving behind chunks of tofu and seaweed that still clung to the sides of the bowl. He gestured at Zenyatta with the bowl before he put it back on the tray. “You and I, our relationship with my broth-…with Hanzo is different and yet…and yet-” he gestured sharply over the edge of the roof and Zenyatta found McCree and Hanzo hovering over a plant in the garden.

Hanzo was watching McCree as he used a rusty watering can to water a lively plant that was beginning to fill with buds. If Zenyatta were to turn up his audials he would probably be able to hear their quiet conversation but he didn’t and let the words be stolen by the brisk sea breeze that managed to make it past the wall.

“Not a hitch,” Genji said. “Not a slip, not a one.”

Watching them, Zenyatta was hit with an epiphany. He folded his hands over his chestplate. “Oh.”

“They knew each other before,” Genji said a little bitterly, stabbing into the yolk and watching it spread across the plate. “Back then I didn’t care why Blackwatch was there, but it was and he and Hanzo…well, no one suspected that they were a thing, you know?” Angrily he folded the egg in half with his chopsticks and shoved the whole thing into his mouth. “Then they had to leave and then Hanzo…” he paused tellingly as he swallowed the enormous mouthful. “Well, I died and Hanzo became a ghost.”

Zenyatta thought back to how he and Hanzo first met, then how Hanzo was introduced to the rest of the team. His eyes had lit up in a strange way when he saw McCree.

He had almost looked…happy. At peace.

They had immediately started trading barbs and at first Zenyatta had been concerned that someone would need to break them up but then…like a bubble everything shattered and the two had laughed and embraced and that…

…that was that.

“And now he’s Empty,” Genji said with a forlorn sigh.

“You are jealous,” Zenyatta murmured, disappointed in himself for not realizing sooner.

Genji set him a poisonous look that fell immediately. He looked down quickly and busied himself picking the flesh of the fish from the bones. “I was friends with McCree in Blackwatch. Good friends,” he admitted. “But we didn’t talk about Hanzo. I just assumed that everyone hated him too. And now…” he peeked over the edge of the roof and Zenyatta followed his gaze. Hanzo had walked up with McCree and kneeled beside him in the dirt beside the plant. Their hands were brushed the brilliant yellow and bronze and orange buds reverently. “Now he’s the only one that understands Hanzo.”

Watching them interact, Zenyatta had yet another very sudden realization. He watched the two of them closely, watched their magnetic push and pull as they hovered over the plant. He watched hands chase hands and linger, watched eyes as cold as a statue’s trace arms and necks and shoulders like physical touch.

He watched their interactions and heard them speak in soft, dead voices while their bodies danced like a pair of nesting birds.

“Yes,” he said faintly, aware that Genji looked up at him in surprise. “I see that now.”

A few days later he watched with the rest of the team as the two of them shared a kiss in the garden in front of the blooming marigold bush and sighed to himself.

I feel like Zenyatta would have a tic where he would roll or toss one of his orbs at people for even the smallest reasons. Need healing? Here, have an orb. Did Lena steal the pancake you had been eyeing? Here, have an orb. 

Maybe that’s just me projecting my own nervousness on him, though. But I like the idea that he just keeps trying to keep people happy - physically, mentally, spiritually - and is constantly sharing his orbs with his team. It is for this reason (and pretty much this reason only) that he is uncomfortable around Hanzo after his surgery - he can sense the void in him and has no way to help him.

[minghzi]

Lord knows how Jesse managed to slip into the shimada household with that outfit (and a mask) but he did

headcanon for mccree’s who skin bc who am i if i don’t draw something whenever they get a new skin

[chromatocloo]

A drunk Hanzo with dogs, or rather puppies surprised by a drunk happy man. Requested by @batghostgirlfan, somehow turned into comfort art despite me having drawn a puppy only one(1) time a while ago ʕ•̤́ᴥ•̤̀❀ʔ

[brownfrogs]

the early months of parenting featuring hanzo and mccree

chestfeeding under the cut

[rondoel]

Winged AU

[mchanzo-incorrectquotes]

McCree: *applying chapstick*

Hanzo: What flavour is that?

McCree: Oh, it's cherry.

Hanzo: Can I try it?

McCree: Sure *hands over chapstick*

Hanzo: *grabs McCree by the collar and kisses him*

Hanzo: It's not bad... Do you have any more of that?

McCree: ... *McCree.exe has stopped responding*

McCree: Oh no, he's hot.

[nitewrighter]

Gency Week Day 7: “Forest”

GOOOODDD Remember how I said this fic was passing like a kidney stone? I just needed to get this fic out of my system but I couldn’t write anything other than shitposts and chatfics for DAYS. So sorry for any sloppiness. The Russian Taiga, Lone Wolf Hanzo, Pregnancy-detecting wolves, and abusive childhoods making unreliable narrators of us all.

----

The four of them had been driving for several hours. The sky was gray and the trees whipped by the van’s windows in a seemingly endless whirl of dark-blue green and gray. It was a cool summer in the Taiga, the air dense with oxygen and the moisture of the pines, drenching the interior of the lungs with a clean cold freshness with every breath.

“So these guys aren’t part of the Hanzo spy network?” said McCree, rolling his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Must you call it a spy network?” said Hanzo.

“It is sort of a spy network,” Mercy piped up from the backseat.

“Not everyone I came into contact with in my travels is some... master of espionage,” said Hanzo, “I just... promised I would return here someday and well, so long as we’re still in this area of Russia--”

“For the other spies in the spy network,” McCree cut in.

“...as long as we’re still in Russia, I should make good on that promise,” said Hanzo.

“And?” said Genji, expectantly. Mercy and McCree exchanged glances. Genji at this point had made it a frequent habit to pull Hanzo off to the side and converse-slash-bicker with him in Japanese, but it seemed to be getting Hanzo to open up more to them.

“And... I thought... it might be enjoyable,” said Hanzo.

“And it’s going to be great--” Genji half-overlapped with Hanzo as he spoke.

 Hanzo lifted his chin sightly at the sight of one sign in Russian, “The next turn,” he said, and McCree nodded. The next turn was onto an unpaved road, and the whole van rumbled with what was clearly an overly weathered mag-lev cable underneath the dirt. The road twisted deep into the pines, and Genji’s visor brightened.

“You know what this reminds me of?” said Genji as the van rumbled.

“Mm?” Hanzo looked over his shoulder at him.

“The back roads Father took into Shirakami Sanchi back when he was training us--do you remember?” said Genji.

Hanzo snorted a little, “Don’t worry, this won’t be that bad,” said Hanzo.

“...‘That bad?’” Genji tilted his head but Hanzo perked up as they pulled up to a large sign arching over the road.

“We’re here,” the slight smile in Hanzo’s voice was unmistakeable as McCree parked the van. The four of them stepped out and stretched, Mercy pulling on a jacket in the chilly forest air. She gave a glance up to the sign.

“Tsarapatsosna Gray Wolf Reserve,” Mercy read the arching sign, she looked back at Hanzo, “Wolf reserve?” but Hanzo was already walking under the sign towards a log-cabin styled office with several fenced areas branching off of it. Mercy looked to McCree and McCree just shrugged.

 A bell rang on the door of the office as Hanzo stepped into it. There was a late 20-something woman with short-cropped periwinkle dyed hair and oversized noise-cancelling headphones scrolling through a tablet at the desk. McCree examined the office--it was about what you would expect from a remote conservation outpost--outdated technology, disheveled filing, a musky smell of taxidermy emanating from a stuffed mink looking down at them from atop a filing cabinet. The girl with the massive headphones didn’t even look up until Hanzo rang the bell on the desk. She pushed her headphones up off of one ear but then her eyes brightened at the sight of a familiar face.

“Hanzo?” one corner of her mouth quirked up in a grin, “Is that you?”

Hanzo gave a smiling nod and a high pitched, “Ha!” escaped her as she pushed up from her desk and brought her headphones down around her neck like a torc. “It’s been too long! Ilya’s going to go crazy!”

“I like the new color, Kira,” said Hanzo, motioning to his hair.

“And I love this!” said Kira, stepping around the desk and pointing at Hanzo’s undercut, “So ‘cool guy,’ yeah?” Her Russian accent was just thick enough for her to hit her consonants in an appealingly hard way.

Hanzo chuckled. “I learned from the best,” said Hanzo.

Kira scoff-laughed and gave him a playful punch in the arm. Her glance trailed over to McCree, Genji, and Mercy. “Your friends?” 

“This is my brother, Genji, and my friends, Angela, and Jesse,” said Hanzo, gesturing at them.

“Howdy,” McCree gave an awkward wave. 

“Brother?” Kira repeated and looked over at Genji, “You had a brother this whole time!?”

“He is hard to keep in contact with!” quipped Genji.

Kira snorted. “Da, at least my idiot brother sticks around, but Ilya’s been mooning over Hanzo ever since he left, I think he’s the one starting half the howls around here.”

“Leaving a trail of broken hearts everywhere you go, huh Hanzo?” said McCree

“We never---” Hanzo started but the door opened and a man looking a bit older than Kira with a nose bridge piercing and his hair piled in a chestnut bun briskly stepped in.

“Kira, чей фургон снаружи? У нас не было--” the man caught himself off as he made eye contact with Hanzo. “HANZO!” he lunged forward and caught Hanzo in a big bear hug which Hanzo was, shockingly, receptive to.

“It’s good to see you too, Ilya,” said Hanzo, patting him on the back.

“You barely write anymore! You spend 2 months here and then disappear! We worry so much and all I have is postcards!” said Ilya, bracing his hands on Hanzo’s shoulders.

“Postcards?” McCree mumbled under his breath.

Ilya gasped, “Your hair!”

“That’s what I said!” said Kira.

“Is a good look!” said Ilya.

“I hope my friends and I aren’t causing too much of a disturbance dropping in unannounced like this--” Hanzo started.

“Eh, no, it’s slow today,” said Ilya. He looked over at McCree, Genji and Mercy, “Your friends?”

“Jesse, Genji, and Angela,” said Kira, gesturing at each of them to fill him in, “Genji’s his brother.”

“You have a brother!” Ilya clapped his hands together but his sights trailed over to Genji’s scarred face. Hanzo’s stomach tightened for a minute, but Ilya quickly switched gears back to his jovial self rather than ask about the origins of the scars. He cleared his throat.��“Ilya Novikov. You’ve already met my charming sister, Kira.” 

Kira gave a wave from where she was leaning against the desk.

 “You and your friends want to see the boys? They missed you.” said Ilya.

“We would love to,” said Hanzo.

“Waivers,” said Kira, holding up several papers completely in Russian.

“Ah, yes, waivers,” said Ilya catching himself.

After about three minutes of winging some Russian-to-English translations and Ilya feverishly promising that the wolves would not, in fact, “eat their faces,” the four of them had their waivers signed.

Ilya clapped his hands together, “Good! Good! Come! They will be so excited!”

He rushed out the door and Hanzo gave a glance back to McCree, Genji, and Mercy. “Sorry, I should have let you answer as well.”

“No, this is great!” said Genji, “I’d love to meet the wolves you worked with!”

“I’d like to,” said Mercy, “But I’m still... processing all this.”

“Yeah--Okay, okay, okay--back up,” said McCree, taking his hat off as they walked out the door after Hanzo, “You... you spent 2 months in a Russian wolf reserve!?”

“Much of their permanent residents are actually wolfdogs,” said Hanzo, walking briskly to keep up with Ilya.

“A Russian wolf reserve,” McCree repeated, walking after him.

“...remote location, heated cabins, just enough plumbing to get by, work to keep me occupied,” Hanzo looked over at McCree and Mercy, who were looking at him completely dumbfounded, “You didn’t think I was spending the whole time sleeping under bridges and quietly disposing of the bodies of my would-be assassins?!”

“Well, this is a side of you I’m glad to see,” said Mercy, folding her arms with a smile.

“Who doesn’t like a dog person?” said McCree with a grin as they caught up with Ilya, who was standing outside a chain-link fence that spanned a large area dotted with pines, but where the duff of pine needles had clearly been packed down more with both human and wolf footsteps.

“Lots of wolfdogs with the Crisis,” Ilya explained as they walked along the fence of the enclosure, “Omnics displace people, pets run away, nature reclaims abandoned towns, dogs fuck with the wolves, make wolfdogs. This enclosure is all the older ones. More used to people. Good for kids. Good for bringing funding.”

“Ah, we’re getting the fluffy tourist treatment,” said McCree.

“Is still big animals!” said Ilya. He suddenly perked up and pivoted back at them, walking backwards. He seemed to give a quick glance over at everyone’s outfit. “Good clothing. Yes. No danglies--not too tight--Jesse, your name was?”

“Yes?” said McCree.

“No hats,” said Ilya, and McCree took off his hat and set it on a supply locker near the enclosure, “The wolves. They like to steal things. And then tear them apart. Then bury them,” Ilya suddenly perked up. “Ah! Miss Angela! Important question: You are pregnant?” said Ilya, looking at Mercy.

“Excuse me?!” said Mercy reddening.

“My apologies, my English is ehhh....” Ilya made a ‘so-so’ motion with his hand, “What I’m saying is--The wolves, they know when you are pregnant. They act weird. They bring you food. They always know.”

Mercy’s mouth drew to a thin, crooked line with her bemusement, “No, I’m not pregnant,” she said with a slight chuckle.

“No hats and pregnancy detection. Got it,” said McCree, putting his hands on his hips.

A large brown wolfdog with three legs hop-walked in from the trees. It spotted Hanzo and suddenly bound towards the chain-link fence, rising up on its back legs and rattling the fence as it put one paw on it.

“Shoko!” said Hanzo, putting his hand to the chain-link and letting the wolf-dog sniff it, “She’s still here?”

“Of course!” said Ilya, “This is her home!”

The wolfdog whined and rattled the chain-link, drawing the attention of her pack, who all slowly padded in from the various tree and shrub covered areas they were sniffing about. 

“Hanzo, you should go in first, get them warmed up to people, yeah?” said Ilya.

“Of course,” said Hanzo, stepping in. The gate was constructed in sally-port fashion, with another gate inside a fenced off area so that Hanzo could have the gate shut behind him before entering the enclosure. As soon as he stepped through that second gate he was beset on all sides by massive barking, sniffing bodies, roiling around him and yipping and some even prancing and rearing on their hind legs playfully at him. Mercy and Genji and McCree watched as Hanzo’s expression melted into pure warmth and even sputtered bouts of laughter as the wolves and wolfdogs sniffed and whined and butted into him. Hanzo, apparently well practiced in maneuvering with the pack’s attention on him, managed to shift the mass of furry bodies away from the sally port and he chatted to them, slipping between English and Japanese and even some Russian he had presumably picked up in working in this place. McCree honestly could have just watched him all day but Ilya elbowed him and gestured into the enclosure with a thumb. Mercy looked over at Genji, a slight smile on his scar-notched lips. 

“We never got to have dogs, growing up,” said Genji, very quietly.

“Come on! Come on!” said Ilya, gesturing them in one at a time. 

McCree entered and instantly a section of the pack swarming Hanzo broke off to sniff him. McCree nearly lost his balance as a wolf with splotchy-patterned fur knocked into him from the side.

“Oh they like you!” Ilya shouted from outside the fence.

Because he smells like Hanzo, thought Genji, stepping in to the enclosure after McCree. The wolves ears pricked up with the screech of the metal gate swinging, and a dozen brown, black, and yellow eyes regarded Genji with some curiosity. Genji moved to hold out his prosthetic hand, caught himself, then extended his organic hand. One silver wolf gave his hand a wary sniff before pushing his muzzle against Genji’s palm. Once the four of them were thoroughly sniffed, the pack broke apart slightly, several wandering off to resume sniffing or scratching at pines indifferent to their human visitors, but a good portion of them hung around, eager for pets and roughhousing.

“They are a lot bigger than they seem in the documentaries, aren’t they?” said Mercy as a cream-colored wolf stuck its full muzzle into the monopocket of her hoodie while a black wolfdog sniffed at her heels. The wolves seemed to be warming up to Genji as well, in spite of his prosthetics, sniffing at his jawline where his skin ended and cybernetic neck began. They were like dogs and yet not like dogs, sometimes remembering an aloof pride midway-through being pet and briskly walking away, but then coming back when they realized that that very distance they created was being respected. I can see why Hanzo would like you, thought Genji, scratching a wolf that wanted to be scratched, but didn’t want Genji to make eye contact while he was doing it. He glanced up at Hanzo, half-wrestling with Shoko, and the words Hanzo had said earlier hung in Genji’s mind like a loose thread off a sweater.

This won’t be that bad.

This won’t be that bad.

This won’t be that bad.

Genji glanced over to Mercy and McCree, still well-occupied with the wolfdogs swarming them, and walked over to Hanzo.

“Hanzo?” said Genji, dropping to a squat next to Hanzo as he rubbed Shoko’s belly.

“Yes?” said Hanzo, scratching the three-legged wolfdog under her chin.

“Sorry, I’m just... trying to clear something up--What you said back in the van... you didn’t like Shirakami-Sanchi?” said Genji.

“You’re not supposed to like it. Survival isn’t a game,” said Hanzo, glancing up at Genji. Shoko rolled herself back onto her stomach and pushed up under Hanzo’s arm to try and get his attention.

“I thought we did pretty well,” said Genji.

“Well you got to go play at being the agile hunter charging after squirrels and I had to actually find fresh water and build a fire for us,” said Hanzo, digging his hands into the ruff of fur at Shoko’s neck.

“...I thought you were okay with that,” said Genji.

“Well in a sense, yes, it kept you out of my hair, but I was also worried you’d do something stupid and hurt yourself and Father wouldn’t be there to rush to your rescue, so it would just be me, and---” Hanzo caught himself and his hand paused, still half-sunken into wolf fur. He looked up at Genji. “I’m sorry,” said Hanzo.

“No, I--I get it,” said Genji, glancing off.

 He sighed and pulled his hand away, prompting Shoko to make a protesting growl-whine, “It’s wasn’t your fault. You were too young for it anyway. Father was mostly testing me.”

“...I thought it was the first time Father thought I could do something,” said Genji. I thought, I thought, I thought, the more Genji said the words the stupider he felt.

“He probably thought it would build character,” Hanzo conceded, “Of course it was just a fun adventure in the woods for his favorite.”

“But you didn’t like it,” said Genji.

Hanzo looked at Genji for a few seconds. “You, Genji. You were his favorite.”

A sputter of laughs escaped Genji but quickly faded as he read Hanzo’s face. “Oh you... you actually think that,” said Genji.

“Think that?! It was obvious!” said Hanzo, “Father always liked you better because you took after Mother more--that’s why he went easier on you.”

“Went easy on-- He just thought he couldn’t trust me with anything! He thought I was a failure! You were the perfect first-born!” said Genji.

“I wasn’t his son, I was his heir! He was only ever... molding me to be like him! He actually smiled with you! He called you ‘Sparrow!’”

“Sparrow was an insult,” said Genji, plainly.

Hanzo’s brow crinkled and his eyes pinched with confusion. “What? No it wasn’t.”

“‘Genji, you never apply yourself to anything. You’re always flitting between meaningless distractions. This way and that. Like a sparrow,’” Genji imitated Sojiro’s tone almost perfectly.

Hanzo glanced down, “No, no, that can’t be right,” he muttered, “Sparrows are lucky!”

“Sparrows are pests,” said Genji. 

“You were always laughing!”

“Well, yes,” said Genji, he rubbed the back of his neck, “I... got very good at laughing things off. I’m--I’m still good at it.”

Hanzo felt a shudder linger between his shoulder blades when he thought about how easily Genji had laughed at him saying he was the favorite. Both now realized that the rest of the wolves were giving them a wide berth. Three still crowding Mercy and one getting a vigorous belly rub from McCree. 

“I’m sorry,” said Hanzo, “I...had not known.”

“I didn’t know either,” said Genji, “I always assumed you and father got along because you did everything right. You even won every sparring match.”

“Because I was bigger,” said Hanzo, “Those weren’t fair to you, either.”

Shoko pushed her muzzle against the back of Hanzo’s shoulder for attention.

“Perhaps we should...” Hanzo trailed off.

“Talk about this when we’re not surrounded by wolves?” said Genji.

“Yes,” said Hanzo, glancing off.

Genji pushed himself up from his squat and walked off, giving Hanzo his space. Upon seeing whatever tension between them was dissipating, several wolves immediately swarmed Genji for attention. Just running his hands through their fur was a relief. He watched as McCree chatted with Hanzo quietly. McCree apparently comforting Hanzo over the newest revelation.

I thought you knew, thought Genji, I thought I was a joke to you, too...

I thought. 

I thought.

I thought.

“Genji?” Mercy stepped next to him as Genji was absentmindedly scratching the side of an older, sleepy wolfdog’s face, “Were you and Hanzo just arguing?”

“It’s fine,” said Genji, “We’re fine.”

“Are you sure?” said Mercy. One corner of Genji’s mouth tugged up in a not-smile. She really was so protective of him when it came to Hanzo.

“It was... just about this trip we took when we were younger,” said Genji.

“The Shirakami trip you mentioned back in the van?” said Mercy.

“It wasn’t really  a trip, it was part of our training,” said Genji, “Wilderness survival. Standard stuff. 5 days of just me and Hanzo roughing it in the woods, making our own lean-tos, that sort of thing...” Genji trailed off.

“How old were you?” said Mercy.

“Hanzo was twelve,” said Genji.

“...so you were nine,” said Mercy, her brow was crinkling.

“Are you okay?” said Genji.

“Just you and Hanzo?” Mercy, “Not your father?”

“Of course,” said Genji with a shrug, and he noticed the color drain from Mercy’s face, “What?”

“Genji, you were a 12 year old and a 9 year old left alone in the woods for five days, that’s horrific,” said Mercy.

“Every generation of the Shimada did it in some capacity,” said Genji, “And I already had plenty of training before---” he caught himself as he looked up into Mercy’s eyes, “...Oh. That’s... that’s not something families do with their kids, is it?”

“No,” said Mercy, “No it isn’t.”

“Right...” Genji looked down.

“So the argument was about the trip?” said Mercy.

“It... it turned into being more about father,” said Genji, “I guess...we both assumed he was amazing to the other when the truth was, he was terrible to both of us in different ways.”

Mercy touched his shoulder, “You were both children...”

Genji huffed a little. “I think we both wanted to believe he was good, deep down. He was strong, certainly. He made the world feel like it had a certain... order to it. That the clan’s way was the truth of the world.”

“It takes time,” said Mercy, “Even when you get enough space and perspective, it still takes a while to figure out who you are outside of a situation like that.”

Genji brought his hand over hers. “It still scares me, sometimes, like, what do I accept as normal that’s nightmarish for other people?” He glanced off, “And... and I want to remember good things about our childhood--I want to believe there are some... some strings of family love that were always there. Maybe father did love us... but he only knew how to show it in the way it was shown to him...he may not have even known--I may not even know--Am I--?” he cut himself off as he looked into her eyes.

Mercy stooped over him put her free hand against the side of his face, and gently kissed his forehead. “Genji,” she said, “You are one of the kindest, strongest, and most patient people I’ve ever met. And you know yourself. And you’re constantly working to be a better version of yourself. That’s one of the reasons why you tried so hard to bring Hanzo back into your life--would it be easier if Hanzo wasn’t in your life? Yes, but... I think for you, it’s not about wanting what’s easy.”

“Maybe I’m just dwelling on this because I’m scared, no matter how hard I worked to get here, to get better, I’m so scared of repeating that cycle,” said Genji.

“You won’t,” said Mercy, sitting down next to him,“This is happening because you want to break a cycle, and... learning things like this is a part of it. This is new ground for everyone. Of course it’s scary.”

Genji looked over at Hanzo, kneading his knuckles into the the thick fur of a wolf-dog’s neck with his face scrunched at the wolf licking his face. McCree walked up and helped haul him to his feet before both of them nearly tripped over another wolf butting into them from behind.

“He has gotten a lot better,” said Genji.

“And it’s going to keep getting better, sure there will be hiccups, but you both want this,” said Mercy, “That’s what’s important.”

Genji just quietly smiled at that. “We’re going to talk about it more when we get back,” said Genji.

“I think that’s a good idea,” said Mercy, “And if it’s any consolation, the wolves confirmed I’m not pregnant.”

Genji looked at her oddly, with one thick eyebrow arched with amusement.

“So we don’t have to worry about that yet, at least,” said Mercy, folding her arms.

“Yet?” said Genji.

Mercy just gave him a smile and a shrug, and Genji snorted and leaned his head on his shoulder. He kept his fingers dug into the wolf’s fur, breathing in the pine-cooled air.

[wontyoureadtome]

Chapter 8 of “Unabashed,” by sciencefictioness (author blog @sciencefictioness)

Fic Rating: Explicit

Ship: McHanzo (Overwatch)

Chapter Length: 38:11

First Chapter

Next Chapter (out Sept. 9th or up early on Patreon)

Unabashed Tag

---

This week is McHanzo week and I recorded some streams to celebrate! I didn’t want to go back on this weeks update so NEXT week’s upload will be links to those streams. 

[overdrugs-mayhem]

[Ow Shapeshifter AU - Serenade] Who’s the liar now, Hanzo? (͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

[ultraquickfox]

They found a penny on the ground