#genji in leather looks like a great idea to me

[nerbull]

July 10th: Crossover AU/trope

I (like everyone else) don’t know anything about Death Stranding yet, but I’ll be damned if I don’t use it as an AU

[fandom-imagines]

The Assassin and The Spy

Fandom: Overwatch

Pairing: Hanzo Shimada X Reader

Words: 7k+ (It’s a long one)

Authors Note: Okay, this got a bit out of hand; but, I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Hanzo Shimada is a strong, tall and charming Overwatch Agent from Hanamura. His life is going downhill until he meets Y/N Y/S/N, an attractive woman with a passion for gaming .Hanzo takes an instant disliking to Y/N and the manipulative and intense ways she learnt during her years in Kings Row, London. However, when someone tries to kill Hanzo, Y/N springs to the rescue and Hanzo begins to notice that Y/N is actually rather sweet at heart. But, the pressures of Y/N’s job as a spy leave her blind to Hanzo’s affections and Hanzo takes up numerous hobbies to try and distract himself. Finally, when dangerous assassin and Talon member, Gabriel Reyes, threatens to come between them, Y/N must act fast. But will they ever find the love that they deserve?

The wind blew viciously as Y/N wandered the streets of Hanamura, Japan, her jet-black leather jacket wrapped tightly around her chest, almost crushing her body in a vain attempt to keep herself warm. 

She had been sent there on a recent mission by her higher-ups, whoever they were, to find Overwatch agent, Hanzo Shimada along with his younger brother Genji Shimada. 

She had no idea what those two had done, besides their obvious affiliation with Overwatch, the group who defended the world from evil, but she did know that this was her job and, as well as that, she was getting paid extremely well for this one simple task. 

The streets themselves were empty, most people remaining indoors to keep themselves distant from the wind and upcoming rain, but Y/N did not care too much about silly, unimportant things such as the weather. No, she knew exactly what she was doing and what she wanted.

The money.

As stated previously, the spy had no idea who these men were or what they did in order to have such a huge bounty on their heads by those who ordered her services. She assumed that it must be something of importance considering the huge reward she was offered in order to infiltrate Overwatch and get close to those two brothers, mostly Genji was what she recalled being told before she was flown to Hanamura, the birthplace of the two men. 

Despite having never visited before, this place made her feel like she was home, something she had never experienced. She felt almost drawn to this place, as though she was supposed to be here. Well, she was in theory. 

Y/N had no idea where she was heading as she walked around the city, taking in all the beautiful blossoms falling from the trees that outlined each street. It isn’t often a busy spy got the opportunity to enjoy the sites of a new city, after all. With each step she took, she got more and more bored, her lips pulled into a straight, unamused line as she cursed whoever gave her the order to come here without any further instructions. 

It was then that she spotted a gathering in the distance.

Masses of people were crowded together, some shoving others as they did their best to reach the tents the were littered around, what the spy assumed to be, a field. Further on Y/N could see some metal, which was obviously something to do with roller coasters, or so she assumed having not been on any in her life, been raised to be a spy from a young age. 

Face neutral, she headed forward, hoping that the walk wouldn’t be too tedious. 

*

It was around twenty minutes after spotting the gathering that she finally reached it. 

It was, in fact, a tedious walk only made more tedious by her not wanting to follow the guided route and risk coming across others that would question her. Instead, she decided to climb onto a high roof, nobody being able to see her, and looked forward.

She let out a hum as he realised that it was only a few rooftops away, immediately setting off into a run then followed by a jump and a quiet thud and she skillfully landed on her feet on the next rooftop. This then continued until she dropped from the final one, landing carefully on the ground just meters away from the place she had seen. 

“Well, that was easy.” She whispered to herself, unaffected by the extensive exercise that she had done just mere moments ago as she just continued walking. 

Once she reached the area, she took a proper look around.

She was right, there were rides, if that’s what they’re called here, and tents everywhere. People walked through the entrances of the tents, some entering with empty hands but excitement on their faces while others left the tent, hands full but still with the same look of excitement, if not more as the grins filled their faces.

The Y/H/C haired girl turned around, spotting a makeshift bar and restaurant behind her, also surrounded by people who were peacefully enjoying their food which smelt delicious. Her eyes scanned further past, seeing two men stood behind the bar, out of view for everyone but her. One man had long brown hair that was tied up neatly, he was quite handsome she noted to herself before her eyes darted towards the other man, immediately knowing his identity.

Genji Shimada.

Which meant that the other man is most likely his older brother, Hanzo. 

“Found you,” Y/N whispered through her painted lips, before quietly walking towards the two to hear their conversation, remaining unnoticed by those around her.

“Hanzo, you can’t be serious?” The cyborg groaned, shaking his head in disapproval.

“It had to be done,” The man, who she now knew was definitely Hanzo, spoke, “We don’t know where father is.” 

“Fine.” Genji sighed, eyes darting towards Y/N who had been too interested in their conversation to notice that her foot was only slightly in view.

Hanzo noticed his brother didn’t continue his sentence, instead looking towards something Hanzo couldn’t see. The long-haired man stepped forward, walking towards his brother so he could see what he was seeing. This was when Y/N’s eyes widened, knowing she had been caught.

“Come out, stalker.” Hanzo’s deep voice called, as she slammed her eyes closed.

“Don’t be mean, Hanzo.” Genji interrupted, walking towards Y/N who was slightly more relaxed now, having come up with an idea.

“S-sorry.” She faked stuttered, “It’s just, I’m looking for someone I was supposed to meet here but, he hasn’t shown.” Continued Y/N, awkwardly twiddling with her fingers in hopes that it would increase the fake awkwardness that was radiating from her.

“Someone?” Hanzo asked, not completely convinced at her story.

“Yeah… A date, if you can even call him that now.” A chuckle left the girls lips as she looked slightly afraid at their reactions, despite being the opposite. 

“Come on, Hanzo!” Genji said, placing a hand on the elder’s shoulder, “We can’t leave such a pretty lady on her own. What’s your name?” 

Great, they fell for it. She grinned inwardly.

“Y-Y/N.” She fake stuttered again, holding her hand out for the cyborg to shake.

“Genji! It’s nice to meet you.” He nodded, shaking her hand. “This is Hanzo. Ignore his rudeness, he’s not good around new people.”

Y/N simply giggled, “That’s fine. I know how that is.” She winked at Hanzo who simply looked away, a small blush on his cheeks. 

“Come, Y/N. Let me show you around.” Genji said excitedly, gently grasping her hand in his own metal one. 

“Oh, that won’t be necessary. I don’t want to intrude on your business.” Y/N said, fake tenderness crawling on her tongue. Despite the manipulation she was currently doing, it didn’t mean she didn’t blush at the unexpected contact from the younger Shimada. 

“I agree.” Hanzo cleared his throat as he looked intently at Y/N with a warning glare, almost as if he knew she was manipulating his younger brother.

He did.

“Don’t be mean, Hanzo!” Genji scolded, “Come along, Y/N.” And with that Genji dragged the smaller girl away, leaving Hanzo with no choice but to follow them. 

*

Genji and Y/N wandered through the crowds, hands still interwind. Y/N’s hair flowing in the wind as it blew through her, occasionally shivering at the gusts. The blush that dusted her cheeks was still there, Hanzo noticed this as he trailed behind them, not wanting to leave his brother that he cared so deeply for alone with this girl. 

“How did you come to see this festival then, Y/N?” Genji asked, making the girl internally panic despite her face remaining the same smile plastered on, “I haven’t seen you around here before.” 

“Well, I’ve had an online boyfriend for a few months now. He claimed to live here so I booked a ticket to come see him and he seemed excited, but he didn’t show even though he said that he would meet me here.” The lies slipped without hesitation from her lips, “I don’t know why I’m telling you actually, never mind.” 

“No, no. Keep talking.” Genji nodded in encouragement, seemingly genuinely interested in this story. 

“I was born in London,” was the first truth the spy told since she had met Genji, “I’ve lived there all my life, but I travel a lot.” Another truth, despite having left out that she travels for work. She definitely didn’t want to be asked about her job. No, that was the last thing she wanted.

They continued walking for a while, Hanzo still casually strolling behind them like a stalker, until they stopped outside a tent. 

“What’s in there?” Y/N’s voice left a pitch higher than usual; the physical contact was having an obvious effect on her that she didn’t wish to share. 

“Stickers,” Genji chuckled, finger raised towards the stall towards the end of the tent that was selling stickers, “want some?” He asked her, not waiting for an answer before tugging her into the tent and towards the stall.

On the wall behind the actual stall lay hundreds, maybe even thousands, of stickers. Each sticker had a different design, some were big, others were small while some were huge, almost big enough that they could be stuck on someone’s face. The stickers designs ranged from just a casual colour to a detailed cherry blossom that she had seen earlier the same day. 

“Which one do you want?” Genji asked her, looking around them himself as though he wished to purchase one.

“I don’t have much money.” She admitted, telling the truth again.

She didn’t think she’d be here long, so she didn’t carry much money on her. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll pay!” Genji chuckled, patting her on the hair, making sure that the strands did not get stuck in the cybernetic joints. 

“I can’t let you do that.” Y/N’s head shook immediately, only increasing in speed as she spoke.

Genji chuckled again, kissing her on the forehead leaving her eyes wide and speechless.

“I-I…” She blushed, eyes darting to the floor.

Had anyone been looking into that situation, they would have assumed that the two had a thing for each other. Hanzo, who was in fact watching the entire display knew that she harboured no feelings for her brother, despite her supposed kindness. He knew it was all manipulation and that there was something about her, something that he could not quite put his finger on, but he wanted to know; he needed to know. Genji? Well, he wouldn’t exactly deny the fact that he thought she was cute. But neither Hanzo, nor Genji knew her well enough for either of them to harbour feelings. They had only known her for less than an hour after all. 

“Come on, let’s get matching ones.” Genji cheered, walking towards the lady who was serving customers to order three: one for Y/N, one for himself and one for Hanzo.

“Here you go!” Genji nodded when he returned, sticking one onto the blushing girls’ jacket, before calling over for Hanzo to give him his own.

“Here we go, now we’re all matching!” The words that were leaving Genji’s mouth were filled with excitement, almost making Hanzo and Y/N genuinely smile, but neither did. 

“Brother,” Hanzo spoke for the first time since meeting the girl, “should we not return? We are busy tomorrow.” 

Genji sighed before responding, “I suppose so. But we shall see you again, Y/N?” He asked, earning a nod for the questioned girl. 

“If you very so wish.” She winked at him, grinning slightly as she gently poked the sticker on his chest in a teasing manner at which Genji chuckled. “I’m staying at a nearby hotel, call me if you need me.” She finished, handing him a card with her number on which she always carried, giving them both a final wink before turning around to leave, both brothers eyes unmoving from her until she faded into the distance.

*

“You shouldn’t see her again.” Were Hanzo’s first words as the door slammed shut behind them.

“Why not?” Genji asked, curious as to why his brother was being extremely protective.

“She is manipulating you.” The elder stated bluntly, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Could you not see it?” 

“You seemed to like her enough,” Genji teased, referring to the blushing from his brother at the girl’s actions.

“Enough, Genji. I will not allow you to be manipulated like this.”

“No, Hanzo. I will not allow you to prevent me from becoming friends with somebody due to your paranoia.” Genji stated blankly as he turned to leave, “Goodnight, Hanzo.”

The door slammed shut.

*

Ringing.

That is all Y/N could hear when she left the bathroom, hair wet as droplets rolled down her bare body which was only covered by a beige towel.

“Hello?” Y/N asked, answering the call to an unknown number as she moved to seat herself on the hotel bed, beginning to dry off.

“Hey, it’s Genji.” The unknown person spoke, now identifying himself as one of the men she had met earlier today.

“Hey, Genji.” She smiled, a genuine smile, despite knowing that he could not see. She couldn’t believe that she was actually happy to know that he had called. 

“I know this might be a bit… cheeky.” He began awkwardly, to the point that she could feel his hesitance through the phone, “But, I don’t suppose I could stay with you tonight, could I? I had an argument with Hanzo, and I don’t want to be around him right now.” He admitted, nervously running his hand across the back of his neck, a habit that followed him into adulthood. 

“Sure! I’ll text you the details.”

“Thank you, see you soon.” 

Soon was extremely soon. In fact, that soon that Y/N was still in her towel by the time he arrived. The cyborg must have immense speed, she assumed as she opened the door.

“Hey, Y-Y/N…” Genji stuttered as the door swung open, revealing a wet-haired, towel wearing Y/N.

“Hey, Genji.” She answered with confidence, seemingly unfazed about answering the door to a male in simply a towel. “Come in. I’m just going to change.” The door swung open as Genji followed, doing his best to not watch her enter the bathroom. 

*

Y/N re-entered the main room of the hotel she was staying in, this time wearing a pair of shorts and a vest top as she seated herself on the double bed beside Genji, the two sitting in silence for a few moments, both mindlessly watching whatever show was now playing on the television opposite the bed.

“Genji?” Y/N sweet voice broke the silence causing Genji’s eyes to dart towards her own, looking deep into them.

“Yes, Y/N?” He asked her, head tilted slightly like a confused puppy.

“There’s only one bed.” She grinned cheekily, nodding towards the bed and the fact that, despite the expensive price of the hotel, there was no couch.

“I-I can just…” Genji trailed off, taking Y/N’s words as flirting, which they were.

“You can share with me, don’t worry.” She chuckled as she shot him a slight wink, still flirting despite having no attraction to Genji. In fact, if she were to be interested in either of the Shimada brothers, it would be Hanzo. He was the one she noted as attractive upon first meeting them.

“Are you sure?” Genji asked her, twiddling with his fingers in nervousness. “I don’t want to intrude…”

“You’re not don’t worry. I know we just met, but I trust you.” She smiled, being genuine with her words. 

She did know that Genji had no intention of hurting her. She was smart; that was why she was good at her job. She knew how to sweet talk people, read those around her and use what she reads to her advantage. This was what lead her to be one of the top spies global, being given tasks all around the globe. 

“Thank you.”

*

The night was calm, spent discussing random topics that the two thought of in their mind until the pair drifted off to sleep, bundled together in a platonic way, or as platonic as two people cuddling can be. Neither Genji nor Y/N had any intentions to do anything, they were simply just two friends spending the night together, sharing a bed because there is no couch.

Normal things like that.

However, Genji was wondering what he could say to Hanzo upon his return.

“Hi, Hanzo. I just spent the night sharing a bed with the girl you dislike. How are you?” Didn’t exactly seem a good choice in his mind. It wouldn’t sound good in anyone’s.

“Morning, Genji.” Y/N yawned, patting her messy hair flat as she sat up.

“Good morning, Y/N.” He chuckled, helping her adjust her hair. “How did you sleep?” 

“Are you really making small talk with me?” She teased, patting Genji on the shoulder as she climbed over him to get out of the bed. 

“I suppose I am.” He chuckled, completely oblivious to the fact that this entire situation would seem strange to anybody that looked at it.

He had just spent a night with a complete stranger. Both were sober and nothing happened. That is something out of the norm.

“Are you returning home today?” The girl asked him, preparing them both a cup of tea, not bothering to ask Genji if he wanted one.

She knew he did.

“I will be.” Genji sighed, nervous about how his brother will react. 

“It’ll be okay, Genji. Hanzo loves you.” Came Y/N’s voice, earning a simple nod from Genji. 

The two sat and drank their tea in light chatter, Y/N helping him plan what to say to Hanzo while he did his best to dig up more of her past, desperate to prove to Hanzo that she was no threat, but she revealed nothing. Nothing that could be used anyway.

It wasn’t long before Genji left, bidding Y/N and goodbye and thanking her for allowing him to stay the night, leaving her alone and left to gather her thoughts about what had happened.

She had gained Genji’s trust, the main part of the mission, but not Hanzo’s. She needed both the brothers, but she was genuinely enjoying Genji’s company. That can’t be good. She knew she shouldn’t allow herself to become attached to the people she is being paid to spy onto her, but there was something about the Shimada brothers. She wanted to protect them. 

*

The stars shone brightly in the sky as Y/N wandered around the streets, just as she had done the previous day. She was alone now, exploring for the sake of exploring. She wanted to know the area better, unaware of how long she could be staying so she assumed that it would be for the best.

Everywhere was closed, the streets quiet besides the occasional car passing by, headlights blinding her for a moment before they sped past, leaving her able to see again. The weather was clear today, the sky also clear, with no wind or rain meaning that it was simply a quiet and warm night. The spy was enjoying the work, happy to be in silence. Or at least she was, that was until she heard a commotion down an alleyway ahead of her. 

Now usually, she wouldn’t get involved in other people drama. She was going to stick to that until she heard Hanzo’s name mentioned.

“Hanzo Shimada.” A man spat the name as though it was venom, that was what caught her attention as she peeked around the corner. 

“I do not know what you wish from me, but I assure you this will not be dealt with lightly.” 

There stood Hanzo, backed against a wall while surrounded by a large group of me. Hanzo appeared unarmed, but so did the men, besides one. But, Y/N knew that she could easily take him down, having taken down far bigger targets in the past.

“Nobody will hear anything from a corpse.” Another man chuckled; his face covered by a mask much like the others.

Y/N knew she had to act fast if she wanted to save the Shimada, especially due to the fact that there was now a gun pointed towards him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Y/N’s calm voice came from the end of the alleyway as she slowly walked down it, eyes cast onto the ground, her whole demeanour threatening. She appeared calm, despite the gun now being aimed towards her.

“Why is that pretty lady?” The gun-wielding man asked her, smirking at her as if he had the upper hand by being armed.

He didn’t.

Y/N raised her hand, grasping his wrist tightly, applying an immense amount of pressure that gave his body no choice but to drop the weapon out of reflex. She quickly kicked the gun behind her, letting go of his wrist to reach into her pocket and whip out her own gun: an L9A1. She found it comical how quickly their faces dropped, their attention now directed primarily on her, not on Hanzo. However, Hanzo’s attention was also on her, extremely confused.

“Because I’m an assassin for a large worldwide clan that can have you and your little group killed and disposed of within minutes. I’m sure nobody would notice.” She gave them an innocent smile, eyes batting with such sweetness that you would be unable to tell the fact that she had just threatened to have them all murdered seconds ago.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t realise he was-“ They tried to defend themselves, only to be cut off by her once again.

“He’s under our protection.” 

The whole thing was a lie, but she was incredibly talented at lying that she had them all fooled, well all except one.

Hanzo.

She watched as the group of men fled the scene, leaving the gun behind which Y/N gladly picked up, unloading it before tossing it to Hanzo.

“New weapon.” She winked, watching him blush once again.

“Thank you.” Hanzo’s voice broke the silence they had fallen into. “Seriously, I don’t think I would have made it out without you I came for a walk unarmed and was cornered.” 

“Don’t mention it.” Y/N shrugged casually, as though she had just helped someone with their homework, not just saved their life. 

“How can I repay you?” He asked her, assuming she wanted something in return.

“No need. Anyone under Genji’s protection is under mine too.” The words that left her mouth were filled with such genuine kindness that he found it almost impossible not to smile; he didn’t though, instead he simply nodded.

“Thank you.”

And that was the start of a friendship between Hanzo Shimada and Y/N Y/S/N. There are some things that you can’t experience without becoming friends and saving the other from being murdered by a gang is one of them.

*

By the end of that night, Y/N knew what had happened.

Despite having known them for less than two days, Y/N had become attached to the Shimada brothers and was no longer capable of completing the mission. Logically, she should hand it over to somebody else, but she didn’t wish to put them in danger. She knew that, in order to protect them, she would have to sacrifice her job and that was something she was willing to do. She had ruined many people’s lives, and she hoped that this would make up for it. 

*

The following weeks were spent with the Shimada brothers while passing on fake information to her contractor. Genji and her became fast friends, spending their time together playing games, one of Y/N’s few hobbies. She had also met Hana, another video game fanatic and the two got along well too. 

Hanzo? Well, he watched his brother and new friend interact on a daily basis, favouring to simply sit and enjoy their company with the occasional conversation instead of playing games. However, Y/N and Hanzo would spend time together, usually sharing general chat over a cup of their famous tea. The two would talk about anything and everything. They were slowly opening up to each other, however, Y/N was careful about what she would share, not wishing to expose herself as a spy, despite no longer doing what the contractor had asked of her. 

That leads me to where we are now, sat in Y/N’s hotel room, enjoying a cup of tea. The two were sat beside each other, cup of tea in hand as they enjoyed the company, both just sipping their tea, not wishing to disturb the silence. But there was something playing on Hanzo’s mind. 

“Y/N?” Hanzo’s voice came out unsure, he didn’t know whether she would mind him breaking the silence. 

“Yes, Hanzo?” Her eyes glanced up to Hanzo’s, such innocence filling them that he couldn’t prevent the blush covering his cheeks as he thought of… some things. 

He cleared his throat, along with his mind, “If you could, would you be interested in joining Overwatch?” He asked her, genuine curiosity in his question.

This caught her attention, knowing of his affiliation with the Overwatch group. 

“Well, yeah. I suppose I would. What they do is good, and I’d like to help the best I could.” She was careful with her response, doing her best to sound as nonchalant as possible, acting as though she thought it was just another random Hanzo question.

Hanzo himself gave a short nod before continuing to sip his tea.

*

The conversation lingered on Y/N’s mind for the next week. She wondered what he was gaining by asking her that question. Had he figured out her identity maybe? Or was it just a question? She was anxious to find out, but that day soon came. The day she received the invite to Overwatch. 

Her eyes were wide as she read the letter which stated she had been selected to join Overwatch. That was when she realised the reasoning for Hanzo’s question.

He had requested that she join.

Her eyes widened even more at this realisation, a blush covering her cheeks at the thought. She knew she had too. Not only would it look good to her contractor, but she would also be doing good for the world. 

“Y/N?” A knock came from her door followed by the voice that could only belong to Hanzo. 

She quickly rushed to the door, forgetting the blush on her cheeks as she swung it open.

“Was this you?” She asked him immediately, holding out the letter to him.

His eyes widened, assuming that she was angry. 

“I-I… Yes.” He stuttered, afraid that he had upset her and that she wouldn’t want to talk to her anymore. 

Instead of yelling at him or slapping him like he expected from her tone, she simply lifted herself up onto her toes, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him into a hug.

Hanzo’s body went rigid at the contact, cheeks lighting up red yet again, feeling as though his heart could escape his chest any moment. What seemed like forever was only a mere second before he realised, he should probably return the hug.

“Thank you, Hanzo.” Her voice came out gentle, her eyes filled with tears for some reason he didn’t know yet he felt his heart warm at her kind words, pupils involuntarily dilating as he pulled away to look at her.

“Why are you crying?” He asked softly, raising his hand to wipe away her tears with his thumb, both blushing at the contact. 

“Nobody has ever been this kind to me. Never believed in me.” She admitted.

And it was the truth. 

Y/N had been brought up as a spy; that was her destiny. She was brought up training every single day, for hours a day. No matter her potential, she was never believed in. She was just bunched up with everyone else.

Hanzo’s usually cold eyes softened, thumb continuing to wipe her tears.

He didn’t want to see her cry…

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I shouldn’t be showing this part of me.” She chuckled sadly, smiling slightly as Hanzo quickly shook his head.

“You don’t have to be afraid to show your emotions around me.” 

*

It was when she was in front of their commander that she realised her mistake.

She had let her guard down.

“So, you’re the spy?” Jack Morrison spoke, voice stable and monotone.

“Yes.” She admitted, not wishing to hide anything, she needs to protect them.

“Then why are you here? To infiltrate our base?” 

Overwatch had been informed of a spy looking to join them and Y/N had just arrived when they received the news. Only the commander knew about this, hence why he quickly accepted the girl that Hanzo had recommended. 

“No, sir.” She said quietly, looking up at him despite having her hands bound behind her back. “I want to protect the Shimada brothers. I was sent here to investigate them but now I wish to protect them.” 

Jack could see that she was telling the truth. He too was good at reading people.

“Why?” He asked simply, wanting to know her reasoning behind this.

“I like them.” Came her simple yet truthful response.

Jack nodded, “I see.” 

“You believe me.” Y/N could read him like a book, just like he could read her, “So let’s work together.” 

“I suppose that can be arranged.”

*

Y/N became quick friends with the entire Overwatch team.

She had already met Hana through Genji and their friendship remained. The three of them would often play games together, often spending the entire night together until they fell asleep in whoever’s room they were playing in that night.

Hanzo and Y/N however, their friendship was different. 

Everyone could see the look in their eyes, the way each of their gazes lingered on each other for a second too long and how they would often glance towards the other. Well, everyone but them that is. It was actually quite frustrating to those around them to see the two pining after each other, neither of them realising the others' feelings. 

It was another meeting in the Overwatch base, they were organising a new mission and each person was being given their job. 

Hanzo was assigned to be a sniper, and Y/N a spy.

She would be infiltrating the Talon base, and nobody, not even the commander, knew how long she would be gone.

Since she had joined the team, all her ties had been cut with whoever her contractor was, and she was under Overwatch’s protection. Sending her on this mission could essentially be a death wish for her if the contractor knew where she was, she knew this, the commander knew this, but she agreed anyway. She knew she had to do it; it was for the greater good, even if she died. 

“So, I guess this is it for now,” Genji said sadly, standing in front of Y/N as she prepared to go infiltrate Talon. 

She would be pretending to be a hostage who had insider information on Overwatch and their next mission. Of course, everything was false, but they wouldn’t know that. At least, not until it was too late. 

“I guess it is.” Y/N’s voice was as sad as Genji’s as the two shared one final hug. 

“Y/N,” Hanzo’s voice came as Genji left. 

He now stood in front of her, a small smile on his lips.

“Hanzo.” She smiled; both their pupils now dilated.

A sign of attraction.

“Be careful.” 

Those two words held so much meaning.

He didn’t want her to be hurt. 

No, he needed her to not be hurt.

But she knew this might not be the case. But she would not, could not, tell him this.

“You too, Hanzo.” She nodded, reaching up to pull him into a tight hug; once that neither wanted to let go. 

“See you around.” She smiled. 

“I hope you do.” 

*

“So, you have insider information on Overwatch?” Came Reapers deep voice, his mask staring directly at her, but she did not falter. 

“Yes, sir.” She said, just as she had said to Commander Morrison mere months ago. 

“What would that information be?” 

“I know about their next mission; a plan to attack your base.”

“Is that so, Y/N?”

Well, fuck.

Y/N knew that he knew her affiliation with Overwatch by that one word: her name.

She had given them a fake name, one that she had never been associated with, and he knew her real name.

“Yeah, I know who you are. In fact, I was the one who hired you and I don’t appreciate being ignored.” Before she knew it there was a knife at her throat, applying such a pressure that it slightly broke the skin. “Luckily for you, I took a liking to you. If I didn’t, you’d be dead right now.” He spat, pulling the knife away from her. 

“Is that so?” She smiled, looking up at him in a flirtatious manner, knowing she has to do this to survive.

He would surely kill her if she didn’t submit to him.

“Yes, it is. I admire your skills and think you would make an excellent addition to Talon. If you cut all ties with Overwatch which I am sure you will, especially when you take into account that we will kill those brothers you have been trying so desperately to protect.” 

“Yes, sir.” Came her quiet response.

She knew that, in order to protect them, she had to do what he asked. They wouldn’t ask her to spy on Overwatch, that would risk losing her. So, they had to have other plans for her, but she didn’t know what and she doesn’t like not knowing.

*

It had been a long few weeks for her, but Y/N had made it. 

She had passed her training flawlessly. However, nobody at Talon trusted her yet, but she was completely fine with that: it is not like she liked them anyway.

Each day she would be put through intense training, practicing everything from her shooting to her parkour, something she was already exceptionally good at from her years as a spy. But each day she would miss her friends more and more, especially Hanzo and Genji. 

The day was going by as normal as ever. Y/N currently practicing her aim with the infamous purple-skinned sniper, the two were stood in silence when the alarm sounded. 

The entire room shook at the loud noise, the power going out so the only light in the room being that of the red alarm screeching in the corner.

Within seconds, Widow had her gun drawn, grasping Y/N around the neck, gun to her head.

“Come with me.” Came her poisonous words as she dragged Y/N away. 

Talon had been preparing for this moment since Y/N’s arrival seven weeks ago. 

They knew that Overwatch would try and save her upon finding out that they knew who she was. In fact, Talon knew that they now knew who had ordered her ‘services’ and the leaders knew that they would come for her; that the Shimada’s would come for her. 

They would use her as bait and the brothers would fall into their trap.

*

“Where do you think she is?” Genji’s voice was hard to hear over the screaming alarm, but Hanzo heard it. 

“I have no idea.” He admitted sadly, bow in hand as they roamed the corridors of the Talon base, desperately looking for their dear friend. 

They had all been informed of Y/N’s reasoning for coming to Hanamura in the first place. But, at this point, all they wanted was their friend to be safe. No matter what she had done, they knew where her loyalties lie. 

With them.

The corridors were dark, walls black along with the floor making it hard to see, their only light being that of the siren that was deafening them with each beep. They were desperate to find Y/N and get out of there. There were twenty agents looking for her, Genji and Hanzo included who were the most desperate to find her. They were supposed to stay back at base, but they refused; they love her and wish to help her. 

It didn’t take long for them to find her. Actually, for Talon to find them.

“Ah, the Shimada’s, the true star of the show.”

Both brothers came to a halt, seeing their friend stood in front of them, Reaper behind her holding a gun to her head. 

No matter the liking he took to her, he had to do what was best for Talon.

“Let. Her. Go.” Hanzo spat, an arrow immediately placed into his bow.

Reaper simply chuckled at the man’s anger.

“Has unemotional Hanzo Shimada fallen in love with the spy that was sent to help us kill you?” Reaper taunted, enjoying the way Hanzo’s grip tightened, knuckles turning white. 

“I don’t care about her past. She’s my friend and she’s under our protection.” He said, using the very words that Y/N used the night that she saved him. 

“How sweet.” He continued to taunt, laughing manically as Hanzo’s face was fiery with anger, such intense emotion that nobody had ever seen on the archer. 

He must really love her, Genji thought. 

Neither the brothers nor Reaper had noticed the rest of the Overwatch agents behind them. They had heard the commotion over the comms and were quick to find them. 

“Let her go, Gabriel,” Jack said, catching the attention of the man that has his agent held hostage. 

“What if I just…” A bang then a scream, “Oops.” And with that Gabriel disappeared into thin air, completely dropping Y/N.

Hanzo was the first to run towards her, noticing the sticky blood that covered his hand as he picked her up, his eyes widening in panic.

“Get Angela!” He yelled, panic filling his body as Genji darted towards him, followed by the others.

“Y-Y/N!” Genji screamed, doing the best he could to apply pressure to the wound. “You’re going to be okay.” His hands shook as he spoke, hating the feel of the literal blood on his hands. 

Y/N chuckled, “I’m okay.” Her voice was hoarse, everyone could almost hear the pain she was in just from those two words. “Don’t worry about me.” Her eyes were closing.

“Hey. Hey! Don’t close your eyes.” Hanzo lowered her onto the ground to help Genji apply better pressure.

“Just… five minutes.” 

Her eyes shut.

*

Hanzo was pacing outside the medical bay, anxiety filling his body.

He wasn’t allowed to be in there while they helped her, saying that his constant questions would be distracting and overall, just unhelpful.

“Hanzo, relax. She’ll be fine.” Lena did her best to comfort him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder in a vain attempt to calm him.

It obviously did not work.

It felt like decades to everyone until Y/N was finally in a stable condition. 

They had managed to remove the bullet and stop the bleeding from the wound. 

Hanzo was the first in, being there the second they allowed him shortly followed by Genji. 

Hanzo sat beside the patient, hand in her own cold and pale one as he sat back in the uncomfortable chair he was provided; not that he cared about comfort at this precise moment in time. At the opposite side sit Genji, deep in thought as his hands lay beneath his chin. 

The two sat there for hours on end, neither moving. They refused to leave for too long in case she awoke, taken turns to use the restroom. Other Overwatch members brought them food, knowing that, if they didn’t, they wouldn’t eat. 

It wasn’t until it was nearing the night-time that Hanzo felt something, a pressure and it was coming from his hand. Eyes wide, he immediately shot up.

“Y/N?” He rushed out, desperate for her to reply.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were excited to see me.” Y/N croaked out jokingly, once again squeezing his hand. 

“Of course I’m glad to see you.” He whispered, thumb running across her hand much like he had done with her tears when she received the Overwatch invitation. 

“He isn’t joking. He didn’t stop pacing around outside until he was allowed in.” Genji’s joke followed Y/N’s own, making her chuckle despite her throat being dry.

“Have you got any water?” She asked quietly at which Hanzo immediately jumped up, grabbing a cup of water for her.

“Here,” Came his soft response as he helped her drink the water, worried that she might hurt herself by doing so herself. 

“Thank you,” Her voice sounded clearer now after drinking.

Hanzo gave her a small nod, heart racing as it fully sunk in that she was finally awake.

She’s safe.

“Do you remember what happened?” Genji asked her cautiously, doing his best to ignore the glare he was getting from Hanzo.

“Yeah, I remember everything.” 

“Let’s not talk about that.” Hanzo interrupted the two, for both Y/N and himself.

Neither of them wished to relive the situation.

“How do you feel?” Genji asked, changing the subject, but not too much.

“Like I slept for too long. My head hurts.” She smiled slightly, reaching up to rub her head.

“I’ll get Angela to bring you something for the pain.” Genji said, lifting himself onto his feet, “I’m glad you're awake.” 

“Me too.” She grinned.

Even after all this, she’s still herself, Hanzo smiled to himself, glad that she could finally be herself around him. No secrets, no lies. 

It was only once the door closed that Hanzo spoke two simple words, “I’m sorry.”

This left the former spy confused, “Why?” She asked him, facial expression saying everything. “It’s not your fault. In fact, it’s my own, Hanzo. I was the one who chose to go there; I put myself in that situation.”

“Don’t do that.” Hanzo scolded her like a mother would do to her child, “Don’t blame yourself.”

“Then, don’t you blame yourself either.” She whispered, raising her hand to cup Hanzo’s face to bring his face closer to his own, close enough that they could feel the other's breath on their lips.

“I love you, Hanzo.” She admitted, eyes darting down to the hospital bed she was currently seated in.

“I love you too, Y/N.” Hanzo smiled, moving his face to place a gentle kiss on her forehead, not wanting to risk putting her in pain by kissing her lips.

*

It had been a tough month, but Y/N was finally discharged from the med bay as long as she didn’t do any strenuous activity. Hanzo had been there every step of the way, as had Genji. The two Shimada’s were there through everything, especially Hanzo. He never left her side, even now.

His hand was holding her own as the two walked through the Overwatch base, heading towards the cafeteria to get food, or so Y/N thought. 

Hanzo, however, knew that there was going to be a welcome home party thrown by the others to make sure they knew that they didn’t mind her being a spy as well as congratulate her for getting through her treatment. 

As they entered the cafeteria, Y/N noticed the sign that read ‘Welcome back, Y/N!” in bright Y/F/C handwriting that she recognised as Hana’s.

“Welcome back, Y/N.” Lena grinned from behind a table which held a cake reading the same as the banner. 

“Awe guys,” Y/N smiled, blushing slightly, “you shouldn’t have.” She smiled gratefully; hand still enveloped in Hanzo’s who gave her a reassuring squeeze.

“And look at you two!” Hana cheered, being the first to notice the pairs' hands intertwined. “What a power couple.” She winked at the two, both blushing with Y/N blushing even more than before. 

Music began to play as people gathered around, sitting on a bench as they all cheered and began talking while Hana poured drinks for each of the agents who were all smiling happily, glad that Y/N was safe. 

After all the drinks were poured and everyone was seated, Hana raised her glass.

“To Y/N and Hanzo, the power couple!” She cheered.

“To Hanzo and Y/N!"

[adversitybloomed-a]

CHARACTER INTERVIEW.

Real name: Hua Mulan ( when Married Last name is either;  Zuburi, Kapoor, Safiya or Shimada ). Single or taken: Married. Abilities or powers: please see docs for info.  Eye colour:  Black ( dark brown ). Hair color: Onyx.  Family members: From my own lore; 

PARENTS: Hua Zhou ( Father ), Hua Hsien ( Birth Mother, Deceased ) & Hua Li ( Mother Step Mother ). 

GRANDPARENTS: Grandma Hua ( Dependant ) & King Yama ( unknown)

SIBLINGS: Hua Xianglang ( Older Sister, Alive) &  Hua Xiu ( half,  younger sister, Alive )

Something they don’t like: Mulan is not a fan of those who lie. She does her best to try to be herself and prefers to be honest over lying to someone. She also is not not a huge fan of hurting others, especially when she knows that there was another way of handling the situation.  Hobbies / activities: Mulan is a huge fan of horseback riding, archery, martial arts, sword fighting. But she also enjoys going to hang out with her friends, especially to eat, spending time with those she cares about. She loves watching cdrama, jdramas & kdramas. She loves to travel, and is down for a sense of adventure.

Ever hurt anyone before: Yes, though she is not proud of it. Ever killed anyone before: Yes, but she rather not talk about it. Ever killed anyone before: Yes, but she rather not talk about it. Animal that represents them: A Tiger. Worst habits: Mulan has a sense of trying to save everyone, even at the cost of her own health and happiness. She does not care if she is injured, she will push herself past her limits to make sure that they are okay and happy. She also has a bad habit of not sleeping, especially alone for more then 3 hours. And if she is upset, or her depression kicks in, she will not eat. She has had issues with a eating in the past which has affected her health. She has suffered with depression for a long time, but refuses to get help for it, and will instead try to change the subject to help someone else. If she sees herself as a burden, she will try to remove herself from the situation, because she does not want to trouble those she loves. & she has a terrible jealousy & or possessive habit ( mostly shown for those she has a thing for ) if she sees someone trying to flirt. Role models: Her father ( verse dependent ). Horus, Nefer, Apis, Seth, Upa, Tayna, Vihaan & Vahn ( @skjebne​​​ ). Chung'e ( moon goddess ). Anna ( @xthesparequeen​​​ ) Sexual orientation: Demisexual ( leans more towards heteroromantic ) Thoughts on marriage / kids: Mulan has been told her life, she need to focus on becoming a wife, and mother to a son. She has seen & hated meeting with a matchmaker, and used to hate the thought of being with someone because it is expected of her. However, she does want to get married ( she is ), but she never truly thought about it until after meeting her said partner, because she realized it was them that she had wanted to be with. She does want children ( she has a few with her partners ), and longs for a large family and family gatherings. Fears: Mulan has a few deep fears that end up sometimes triggering her depression. She struggles with the idea of losing someone she loves, and will go to great lengths to make sure they remain safe, even if it means risking herself. She has a strong fear of failure, as well as bringing dishonor to her family name, as well as not being strong enough to protect those she cares for. She does have a deep fear of swimming  ( sometimes she can’t swim ), but it mostly stems from going in water she can’t see through & the thought of what could be underneath the water sending her into a panic. Style preferences: In more modern verses, Mulan has a very punk style dress style. She enjoys pants, and shirts with sayings. colors are a choice of mood for her. However, she does enjoy wearing dresses ( flats with it as she does not like heels ), and will once in a while throw on a skirt. In more of the time period attire, she prefers wearing hanfu, however she does enjoy travel clothing with light leather and pants that make it easier for horseback riding as well as fighting. Someone they love: Upast Safiya & points to @skjebne​ & their muses, because she would die for them in a heartbeat. Approach to friendships: Mulan always tries to gain friendships. She gives people the benefit of the doubt and will go out of her way to be nice and as helpful as possible. It takes a lot to get her not to like someone, and usually it is based off of feelings. She will always try to introduce herself, be respectful and with a small smile on her face. Thoughts on pie: Delicious. Favorite drink: Tea, Boba Tea, & Iced Tea. Favorite place to spend time at:  In the arms of someone who she loves and who loves her. ( she’s cheesy gosh. ) Swim in the lake or in the ocean: Neither. Not unless someone she trusts is around, and even then she will rather watch them. Their type: COUGH COUGH   uhhhhhhi mean. Bad boy looks, but with hearts of gold? lmao i’m not going to lie, i really don’t know how to answer this other then to look at  Seth, Vihaan, Upa, Hanzo, Genji, Tayna or Vahn ( @skjebne​​ ) & at Caleb ( @dissolvedshadows​ ), because they are her types. Camping or indoors:  Mulan loves both the indoors or outdoors & enjoys spending time with those she cares about in either or situation.

Tagged by: @ka-go-me ( thanksies <3 )  Tagging: @skjebne​ @xthesparequeen​ @lcvelj​ @oraclefreed​ @universestreasures​ @sheresists​ @dissolvedshadows​ @manaborn​​ & or steal and tag me <3

[nitewrighter]

Of Blades and Broomsticks pt. XIV

(7 Minutes left on the clock!! Happy Halloween, Y’all!)

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 11, 12, 13

Witch AU on AO3

----

The doors to the temple library were heavy, and Mercy had to throw a significant amount of her weight against them just to get them open, her soft-soled monk’s slippers sliding slightly across the floor. The door opened with a rumble and opened into an only-marginally-better-lit-than-the rest of the temple library. It was cool and musty-smelling, lit by a great glowing green chandelier of black glass tendrils winding around each other like a tangled mass of kelp on a beach. Mercy’s breath went short in her throat as she ran her fingers along the cold spines of a few of the thousands of books lining the walls. “Incredible,” she said, picking a book off the shelf, “There must be centuries worth of--”

“Dreck,” she heard a familar voice and then a clatter of a book on the floor and followed its source. She walked between imposingly tall shelves.

“Hogwash,” the voice came again and another clatter.

“Keep this,” no clatter.

“Bunkum,” another clatter.

“Codswallop,” another clatter.

“Pointless smut--actually hold on to that,” no clatter.

“Esoteric frippery,” another clatter.

Mercy reached the source of the commotion to see Junkenstein surrounded by dozens of littered books strewn about the black stone floor, and the Monster standing behind him, holding an impressive pile of precariously stacked volumes in his massive hands. Junkenstein was glaring at the bookshelf, tapping his chin with his prosthetic hand thoughtfully.

“Making yourself right at home, I see,” said Mercy, smiling.

“Would that it were, but a place of a god is no place for a man of science, Gramercy,” said Junkenstein, picking up a book and leafing through it before setting it on the pile in his monsters’ arms, “We stand at an interesting point. We cannot return to Adlersbrunn, obviously. But how long can we stay here? And... your demon’s brother said something that’s stuck with me--He spoke like... like we set things into motion back in Adlersbrunn. Things that are going to have consequences far larger than we could ever dream of controlling.”

“We’re very far from Adlersbrunn,” said Mercy, “If the church sends more hunters after us, there’s not much of a trail for them to track with Zenyatta’s portals.”

"This goes well beyond the church, now, Gramercy, all it takes is one glance at the company we keep to know that,” said Junkenstein, looking back at his monster, “Speaking of which, how fares your demon?”

“He’s glad to be near his master, but this place puts him on edge like you,” said Mercy with a shrug, “But it’s mostly for my sake.”

“He is quite taken with you,” said Junkenstein, pulling another book off the shelf and leafing through it.

“He would have me believe he is taken with me,” said Mercy, putting her hands on her hips, “But he’s a demon.”

“Ah and you would have him believe you’re taken with him,” Junkenstein clapped the book shut and tossed it over his shoulder, “But you are a witch. It’s a dangerous game of cat and... other cat you two play,” he scoffed, “Come now, Gramercy, you think I don’t know you? You’re not putting up those haughty witch walls around yourself now, are you? The two of you have been through the fire together! Literally! There was a column of fire that burned a hole in the sky! We were there!”

“Jamison...” Mercy pushed some of her hair back.

“You’re always telling me to have a bit more faith,” said Junkenstein with a shrug as he and his creation gingerly stepped around the mess of books at their feet and walked down the narrow stacks.

“’If you can’t trust your demons, who can you trust?’” Mercy suggested wryly.

“In a sense, yes,” said Junkenstein as he and his creation set their pile of books with a thunderous clatter down on a stone table, “Our old home is well behind us, and we’re on the brink of an entirely new world---one we understand very little of, by the way---We need friends. We need allies.” He gave an affectionate pat to his creation’s stomach, “And you’re in even deeper with all this magical whatnot than I am.” 

“Good to see you’re actually calling it ‘Magic,’” said Mercy, smiling.

“Blame Squidface,” said Junkenstein, flipping open a book, and taking a seat, “It’s just one more thing for me to figure out isn’t it? That’s all science is, really.”

Mercy watched as Junkenstein’s eyes traced over the page.

“How long do you intend to stay?” said Mercy.

“Still figuring that out,” said Junkenstein, “Not too long, obviously. Though if your demon has any ideas on where to head next, you should check with him.”

“Are we to be traveling companions?” said Mercy with a smile.

“As if you’d last a second without me,” said Junkenstein with a grin. The creature gave a grunt behind him. “Us,” he corrected himself, “Last a second without us.”

“Oh, my heroes,” Mercy said with a smile, before walking off and leaving Junkenstein and his creation to their books.

Mercy lingered in the library a while longer, though Junkenstein’s words stuck with her. She knew she was no worshipper of Zenyatta, and part of the reason she was letting herself stay here was because it was the first place where she wasn’t feared or hated for being a witch--she was tolerated, but did she belong? No. She wondered if she would even know what it felt like to belong somewhere--if she would ever recognize the feeling. The question had previously depressed her, but now it trailed and tugged like a fishline to Genji. She remembered the words that fell out of her as they descended from the sky in what felt somehow both distantly long ago.

“I’m your witch, aren’t I? I’m your witch and you’re my demon.“

 In all the panic of that moment she had clung to that thought like a ship’s mast in a storm. 

She thumbed through a few tomes mindlessly. Pre-Babel scrolls in languages-before-language that she had no hope of translating since they sounded like everything and nothing, complicated histories of the cult with names of a pantheon that made her happy Zenyatta’s name was as easy to pronounce as it was. As she set a book back on the shelf, she heard a soft whisper. She was used to hearing a lot of whispers and tuning them out, but this whisper gave her pause. It sounded like the old woman. The Gramercy before her--but the words were indistinct, and they weren’t berating or scolding, but wondrous and soft. Mercy followed the source of the voice, but there wasn’t a source, she knew that much... nothing like the commotion Junkenstein had been creating with all his book-throwing. Still her feet walked and her chin lifted, listening, through she was half-sure the voice as only in her mind. As she walked some words formed themselves.

“--some point the chain was nearly broken, and much knowledge of its true potential was lost--”

The words cut out altogether.

Mercy stopped walking and found herself in those same narrow cathedral-like stacks. She looked around, not really sure what she was looking for. She was far at the back of the library. She puzzled at the spines of books on either side of her, then shrugged and moved to walk out from the rows of shelves when there was a clatter of a book hitting the floor behind her so sudden it gave her a start. A grubby looking steel-and-leather book was on the floor--no title, save for the word ‘Vitae’ written on it. She picked it up, dusted it off, and carried it with her out of the library. She would read it later, she decided. For now, she did have to find Genji and discuss their plans for the future. Once again with considerable effort, she was able to open the doors to the library, and with her vitae book under one arm, walked through the temple’s dark corridors.

She noticed, as she walked, a significant more amount of bustle by cultists going through the halls. Of course, usually it took only the slightest statements by Zenyatta to work them up into a tizzy. Still, she could feel Genji’s presence in her mind as she set out to find him--not actively talking to her, or seeking her out (though she could twist the hair lock around her finger for that) but the memory of his promise a presence in and of itself, like the whisper she would leave on her door when she left her cottage.That presence in her mind seemed to burn brighter as she pushed some heavy doors out to a covered walkway overlooking the temple courtyard. Down below, Genji was sparring with three cultists with staves.

 She smirked. Genji conjured all of his clothing from the selfsame smoke he used to shift his form--technically he could give himself a shirt, and it wouldn’t make him any sweatier like it would a human, but he did not. The scar from the Witch Hunter’s consecrated bullet still marred his shoulder like a raw pink star. Her eyes trailed to his shoulders as he fought, gripping a staff and spinning it around, deflecting blows from the monks’ own staves. She had seen him easily use his strength to disorient and subdue opponents, but here he fought more like a man than a powerful yokai... or was at least attempting to fight like a man. His leaps were graceful, his blocks of enemy blows either solid and unyielding, or gracefully redirecting the force of the blow. His scars spread and contracted across his skin as he moved, his red eyes sparking with a furious focus.

She was so involved in watching the acrobatics of his form and the dance of muscles on his back that she was caught quite off-guard when a cultist carrying large rolls of paper nearly ran headlong into her, but managed to catch themselves on impact, stumble with their armload slightly, then hurry on. 

“Just what is going on with them today anyway?” Mercy murmured, before turning her attention back to Genji. 

“There is to be a celebration,” a deep and tranquil voice spoke next to her and she nearly jumped right out of her skin from the surprise.

“How did you just... sneak up on me like that?!” Mercy managed to blurt out, gripping her chest with her heart thumping hard against her ribcage.

Zenyatta gestured down, and Mercy remembered that he didn’t really walk anywhere, but rather floated with his legs crossed in a lotus position.

“...ah,” Mercy brushed her hair back, moving to watch Genji again before catching herself, “Wait---A celebration? Of what?”

“Have you not heard?!” exclaimed one cultist, hurrying by carrying armfuls of something slimy and brackish-smelling that Mercy didn’t want to look too closely at.

“The Master Zenyatta in all his Generosity and love for our worthless pointless forms has declared that he shall stay in this plane for 200 years!” said another, hurrying by and carrying lanterns of black iron.

Mercy blinked several times and looked to Zenyatta.

“I don’t see what they’re so worked up about either, honestly,” said Zenyatta, “I’m only staying to see how the pattern of magical flux in this plane pans out. And...humans live, what, 15,000 years, don’t they?”

There was a pause. “They do not,” said Mercy.

Zenyatta looked thoughtful for a moment. “Oh!” he said, “That was this plane’s sea sponges! I get you all so mixed up sometimes,” He gave a slight chuckle and the mass of tentacles forming the lower half of his face twitched and tickled each other, “But as they say,” he added, catching himself, “There is to be a celebration, tonight, possibly an orgy--they were unclear on the second part.”

“...good to know,” said Mercy.

“I know you are not a devotee, but as a companion and partner of my student, you are invited nonetheless.”

Mercy smiled. “Master Zenyatta, you and your followers have been so hospitable. I don’t know how to begin to thank you.”

“I am thankful to you as well, Witch Mercy,” Zenyatta addressed her in the same manner Genji did--treating ‘Witch’ as what seemed almost like an honorific, “You freed my apprentice from a prison and gave him more focus and direction than I have ever seen him have.” 

Mercy blushed a little, “Really?”

“I will admit, I previously saw you as a distraction he was overly invested in, but since you saved him, I see now that yours is a remarkable partnership. While I have felt the magic waning in your plane, I see now that it can flourish in the most unexpected places, shining brilliantly even in adversity.”

“Oh...” Mercy glanced down, but then found her eyes on Genji, still sparring, still scarred and sweaty down in the courtyard and found that that sight did not help her loss for words, “I---Thank you,” she managed, managing to tear her eyes away to look at Zenyatta.

“I know you intend to leave,” said Zenyatta, looking down at Genji, “He is bound to wander as well---but know that you will always find support and safety here. As much safety as this plane can allow.”

Mercy smiled, “If you ever require my help---” she started but Zenyatta put a hand on her shoulder.

“You cannot even begin to comprehend my dealings, but I shall keep your offer in mind, Bearer of the Flame of Creation,” he spoke warmly before floating off. 

Mercy turned her attention back down to the courtyard but found that the clack of staff on staff and the thud of blows landing and the shuffle of feet across stone had stopped. The other cultists were talking, some quietly nursing bruises, but Genji still stood out there, looking up at her. In that moment she knew. She knew he knew that she had been watching all that time. Her eyes widened and her mouth drew to a thin line as she hurried off to the interior corridors of the temple. 

She knew she meant to speak with him about where they would go from the temple, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it for the rest of the day. His presence in her mind was half an itch now, one she knew she could relieve just by going to talk to him, but her self control told her to treat it as was befitting itches: Leave it alone, and hopefully it would go away. The rest of the day was spent back at the library, with the Vitae book and Junkenstein’s skeptical side-glance upon her. He knew she meant to talk to Genji. He knew she didn’t talk to Genji. He knew her too well and she hated him for it and he was her best friend for it. The preparations for the celebration left her afternoon largely vacant--no bickering cultists meant no gashes or stab wounds to worry about. She let herself fall into an abyss of books, the hours wheeling away until a growling stomach and a setting sun finally managed to drag her from her reading.

 She had all but forgotten of the celebrations and was briefly jarred by the merry atmosphere in the temple refectory and the decorations dangling from the ceiling as the cultists all sat on their mats around a great carpet of countless plates of food. Mercy managed to find a seat and was able to sate her hunger on snails and samphire. A carafe of a bitter herbaceous spirit was being passed around, and Mercy filled her little clay cup with that as well and knocked it back. It was a celebration, after all, wasn’t it? She wasn’t quite sure when the music had started--maybe around the time the cultists were getting up from their mats and moving out to the very temple courtyard where Genji had been sparring earlier, but in that square of stone, Mercy saw a great bonfire with crackling green flames. And then there was the music. It bounced off the cold stones and seemed to thrum from her ears to her ribcage. There was a rain-like shake of some grain-filled gourd, two-stringed fiddle, flute, and some long loud wooden instrument that rumbled and croaked, and then the drums kicked in.

The cultists pulled each other into whirling dances, gripping each other’s wrists, hooking each others arms. There was a feverishness about the way they touched each other, like tidal pool creatures bracing for the impact of a wave. And then the music picked up and they were leaping, some lifting others over their heads and twirling them as their necks craned back in ecstasy. Mercy found herself almost hypnotized. The bodies, once previously shuffling around hidden by voluminous black robes were casting off their outer mantles, rendering themselves lithe silhouettes against the green glow of the fire. Even Junkenstein had managed to be pulled into the revelry, his creation tossing him in the air and catching him as Junkenstein swan dove and swept and danced as much as he could manage with a peg leg.

“Glad you could make it, Witch,” a voice familiar and casual, yet honeyed with charm managed to slip over the din of music and the thud of bare feet on stone. Mercy turned her head to see Genji. “I was worried you’d spend all night in that library,” Genji said with a smile.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” said Mercy, shifting where she sat a little.

“Ah yes, I gathered as much by your running away as soon as I made eye contact with you,” said Genji with that half-smile of his.

Mercy reddened and glanced off and Genji snickered before catching himself. “Apologies---What was it you wanted to speak of?”

“Leaving the temple---We don’t worship Zenyatta like they do and it’s bound to get us into trouble at some point.” 

“I am the one bound to your service,” said Genji, “Where do you desire to go?”

MeMercy thought for a few moments. “You know... I suppose Zenyatta’s portals leave our options far more open than I’ve been thinking--truth be told my world has been so limited by the wood and my old village and Adlersbrunn... it’s hard grasping the idea that I can be somewhere else--even here,” she looked at the dancing cultists. Genji watched her wistful expression, the reflection of the green flames shining in her gray-blue eyes, making them glitter like an unearthly sea. “It’s almost dreamlike....” her voice softened a little, “It wasn’t like the old woman and I could join in on harvest festivals... I’ve never been able to get this close to people dancing before---or even see people dance like this.” 

“Beg pardon?” said Genji, his eyebrows raising.

“Oh--it’s nothing, it’s not important--” Mercy started.

“You’re telling me you’ve never danced!?”

“I’ve danced!” Mercy snapped, “Just... in rituals, you know.” 

Genji promptly stood up and held a hand out to her.

“Genji--” Mercy started, nervously running a hand through her hair, “I--we still need to figure out where to go from here.”

“As your demon, I must say that your wellbeing is paramount, and as such it is imperative that we dance.”

“You’re ridiculous,” said Mercy, smiling.

“I managed to get trapped in the same tea leaf pot twice. I’m well aware I’m ridiculous. But this is important,” said Genji, still holding his hand out.

Mercy took his hand and he pulled her into the whirling storm of bodies leaping and dancing around the bonfire. She started out awkwardly bobbing to the music, but Genji took her hands in his and twirled her around, lifted her as if she were light as a feather. She noticed he wasn’t wearing the mask nearly as often these days, nor was he bothering to hide his scars as much. He made her feel light on her feet, redirecting her weight around him easily. She easily lost herself in the dance, just as much if not moreso than her abyss of books. The satisfaction of flow, the feeling of “Yes, this is what I ought to be doing” that was so ingrained in the pursuit that the feeling and the pursuit were one and the same. She only regained her senses with the brief flush of adrenaline brought on by Genji sweeping her out of the path of a cultist who was railing and dancing like a maenad. 

“Are you just avoiding helping me pick where to go next?” said Mercy.

“We can multitask,” said Genji, picking her up in a twirling lift that forced a spill of giggles from her, “As you said, with Zenyatta’s portals greatly expand our horizons--Perhaps somewhere with white beaches and warm seas? I don’t know how well you can swim...perhaps a port city, somewhere treasures are being traded daily...”

“Perhaps we should find Satya,” said Mercy.

“There’s a plan,” said Genji.

“I don’t know if there’s anything more she can teach me about the flame, but it wouldn’t hurt to try--even if we have no idea where to start.”

 “She has her own path, as well,” said Genji, “Even there is nothing more you can learn, the things I’ve seen you do are breathtaking, Witch.”

Mercy smiled and glanced down, “I was terrified and had so little idea of what I was doing,” she said quietly, “Have you thought about it since then? That night in the cave?”

“Of course,” he said easily. His answer caught her off-guard, “I’ve been puzzling over it, trying to remember more of it, but I was delirious from my true form and my injuries so...” he trailed off, “I remember you,” he said quietly, “You were holding something sharp and black and then you...” he trailed off, took his hands about her waist and pulled her close--the movement wasn’t a sudden jerking of her against him, but a steady pull, in-step with the music. He took her hand and looked at it, studying it for a scar.

“It’s fine,” said Mercy, letting her hand break from his grip and putting it against the side of his face. His eyes on her softened at her touch.

“Still not sure how you did it,” murmured Genji, leaning in, studying her face.

Magic,” Mercy smiled, bringing her other arm around his shoulders.

“I never would have guessed,” said Genji closing the distance between them. Mercy tilted her head to him, her hand on the side of his face guiding him towards her, the bonfire crackling green behind her. Genji drew a breath, taking in the scent of that herbaceous spirit that had been handed around at dinner, moved to drink in more of the scent.

“West,” Mercy suddenly said. The word threw Genji off.

“Pardon?” Genji snapped out of the haze.

“We should search for Satya in the lands west of Adlersbrunn. They probably expect us to flee east---deeper into the forest, they won’t be looking for us in the west.” 

“Clever,” said Genji, bringing a hand up under her chin, “See? I told you we could multitask.”

“The task you had in mind seemed to demand most of your attention, demon,” said Mercy.

“It had your attention too, if memory serves,” said Genji as her fingers wove into his hair. Their lips had only barely brushed against each other when they broke apart at the sound of fabric ripping and the music now ratcheting up to a thunderous din. 

“What was--?” Mercy looked over to the source of the sound and saw the bare back of one of the cultists, who was now in a writhing mass of bodies. More fabric ripping. Tatters of cultist monk robes flew up like large violet autumn leaves. Mercy’s jaw dropped. While she was no stranger to skyclad rituals, the suddenness and intensity with which the cultists set upon each other was jarring. With all Genji’s talk of cultists stabbing each other there were a few panicked seconds where she expected the frenzy to be violent, but it wasn’t, well, literally violent.

“Ah. So there was an orgy,” said Genji, as Mercy slapped both her hands over her eyes as more tatters of cultist robes fluttered out from the mass of writhing bodies, some falling into the blazing green fire, “Really wish Master was more clear on these sorts of things.”

“Genji!” Mercy’s face was burning, her hands still covering her eyes. She split her fingers apart only briefly to peek through, saw a mass of limbs in what seemed almost reminiscent of the mass of tentacles forming Zenyatta’s face and wondered, briefly if this too was a form of worship of Zenyatta for them, Then she saw that one of the cultists had even further escalated the situation with a summoning circle, then clamped her fingers tight again.

“Yes, I know, we’re leaving, don’t worry,” said Genji, taking her up into his arms.

“Tell me when it’s safe to look--woah!” Mercy cut herself off as Genji leapt, with her in his arms, up to the temple walkway that bordered the courtyard. Genji walked into the interior of the temple and set Mercy down on the stone floor. “It’s sa--” Genji caught himself, “Wait--”

“Wait--? Wait for--?”

Genji lightly kissed the knuckles of Mercy’s hands covering her eyes.

“...ah.” she said.

[asa-ghost]

For a prompt how about a : Mchanzo au where hanzo is an alien but has to pretend he is human until he can get of the planet and Jesse has no idea that hanzo isn't human.

TO BE CONTINUED..

[captionfandomaddict-blog]

How I think Mccree lost his arm.

((Really shitty Title I know but any ways this is my first post and first Overwatch fic/head-cannon so please enjoy.)

Moira:*This was supposed to be a simple mission but ever since our mission with ended in everyone finding out about Blackwatch. Nothing ever was simple but this mission should have been very calm and orderly go do some recon at getting out no detection something we use to do mildly well but ever since that fateful mission when Reyes took out Oslo Antonio. He  was put under careful watch by the Strike Commander Morrison and Captain Amari they wanted to make sure he wouldn't get into any more trouble with the UN and Genji was put on a mission with Lena Oxford so it’s just me and Mccree and both Reyes and the Strike commander made it clear what we must do.

Infiltrate a Talon base get the information we need then leave as quickly and with just me and Mccree we left at night and brought some equipment that would help us not much medical or ammo since we would have to be quite it should have been easy and I was pretty confident but I was wrong. Since the mission stated the whole mission was pretty hazy to me after Mccree tripped an alarm we ran as fast as we could and made it to a cave before we got blown up and caved in.*

Moira woke up her head hurt a bit and coughs a little as she breathed in some dust she knew that her healing equipment was mostly damaged which was annoying in its self she pulled out an emergency light and broke it to light up so she could look around.

The cave was dark not even moonlight was present She turned to where they came in it was closed off by a ton of rocks. Moira made sure she had her bag of a few medical stuff and some other necessary things she turned on her communicator. "This is Moira does anyone copy?" It was silent most likely there was no signal in there she sighs and ran a hand through her hair.

"Well that went well great job there Mccree has to be the second worst mission we’ve ever been on." she looked around after no response from the cowboy "Mccree it’s no fun you don’t say nothing back."

a grown came from behind her she turned around and saw Mccree with one arm crushed under some rocks other than that he looks fine his stupid cowboy had was still on his head a pity she thought. "that’s just fantastic Mccree now wake up. Moira kicked him a bit Mccree opened his eyes and cursed under his breath glared at the Healer

"What in the sam hill did you do that for," he growled then made a whimpering noise and bit the bottom of his lip trying to ignore the excruciating pain that was coming from his arm. "What’s going on and where the hell are we?" She sighs then looked away from him. "You tripped the alarm we ran into this cave which apparently had explosives-rigged and now we’re trapped in this cave but at least we’re no longer in the grasps of Talon."

The medic looked at the rocks that were blocking them then keeled down to take a look at how stuck her teammate was most of his arm to his elbow was trapped and most likely crushed under the rocks. She rubbed her chin trying to think out a plan as she heard a ruckus coming from behind the wall of rocks. "We don’t have much time it sounds like they’re trying to come in here."

"shit." he tried to pull his arm out but shouted in pain he couldn’t feel his arm really other than that it was in pain."Fuck what are we going to do?"  he asked looking at the woman having Reinhardt would have been amazing at a time like this or Mercy she was nicer. she thought for a moment out of the bag a very big and sharp looking saw. "Well, I have one idea," Moira said looking from her tool to Mccree's arm he turned white as a sheet and looked at her as if she was crazy. "I know that you ain’t think about cut off my arm!" the young male yelled at her and tried to move away but couldn't move far because of his arm and the pain.

"And what exactly do you suppose there is no way I can lift those rocks and get you out before they get in here. Even if I did your arm would be useless your bones are most likely crushed into many many small pieces and would just be a pain to fix." she wasn’t amused at how he was "come now Mccree don’t be a baby." Mccree glared at her. "you are suggesting that we cut off my arm I ain’t being a baby!!"

"Mccree this is the only logical way of getting out of here fast and if you’re worried about only having one arm Ziegler will most likely make you a new one or Torbjorn whoever!" She said getting more and more annoyed. "It’s not that bad and you shouldn’t really complain seeing as how Genji has only one human arm and the rest of him is a cyborg." He looks away from her to look at his arm that was keeping them here what she was saying was true he could have a new arm if you lost this one but that wasn’t the point. He rubbed his face with his free arm then look at her. "How much is this going to hurt?

"I’m not going to lie or sugar coat it ’s going to one of the most painful things you'll ever feel. I am cutting off your arm that is not going to feel good but it’s our only way to get out of here." He hesitated for a few seconds then closes eyes. "Just get it over with already. The young male said not looking at her not looking forward to this he’s going to lose his arm that isn’t something but you can take lightly. Moira took the bone saw and move so she can get better access to the arm she looked at the young male for a quick moment she took McCree's belt off folded in half that’s sick the leather bit into McCree's mouth. "Now, McCree, you’re going to want to bite down very hard and this should help not hurt yourself anymore than you already are. Also, it'll quite your screams."

Mccree bit down hard and closed his eyes tighter trying to brace himself for the pain that he was about to feel and at that moment he really wished that Gabe was there. Even though he Reyes weren’t really getting along at the moment he could really use someone to be there to comfort him knowing that Moira wasn’t the best person at that aspect and the fact that he didn't trust her and she was the one cutting off his arm. Gabriel was like a father to him Gabriel was the one who gave him the chance after the Deadlock and taught him how to be a better man. He could feel his heart beating fast he tried to call himself down and try not to think about what was going to happen and wondered if he'd faint or pass out.

The healer held onto the sharp shooter's shoulder and placed the saw right above below his first bicep and above his elbow. This part of Moira's memory became fuzzy she remembered screaming from Mccree and blood lots of blood but she healed him the best she could with how damaged her pack was and ripped off his cape to wrap up the wound. Sometime during the amputation, the cowboy became unconscious so she pulled him up and had him leaning on her and started to drag/walk away from where they were. Moira couldn't tell how they got out of there it was a blur all she remembered from that point was walking out of the cave and seeing Reyes and the Commander himself she was put under suspension and was being closely watched by Ziegler and that mission would be in her mind for months to come.

[badsleeptwins]

Wintertide

A holiday treat for Ashe. A look into the future for Jesse, from the story Shine. A magical!au with now teen!Jesse and his R76 dads, and a side of pre-McHanzo. He’s growing up well in the hands of his adopted family. Warnings for mentions of murder, mentions of a character being held by controlling family members.

++++++++++

The sun dawns weakly over a horizon covered in white, the faint rose gold of it barely leaving a tinge of color in the cupola where he makes his bed. The small wood stove in his room below is steadily feeding a radiant heat around him, meaning either Jack or Ana are already awake and put more wood on for him. Piled under the softest wool blankets in the whole Coven, Jesse can’t seem to get himself out of bed.

He loves his home at the Watch Tower, where the years have been endlessly good to him. His only grievances are the short rainy seasons of early summer and the long, harsh winters. Though, honestly, Jesse is the only one to find it harsh. The air is sharply cold and snow clouds hover in the skies for days before dumping their load or petering off without so much as a flurry. The days grow shorter, and as the sun lingers less and less, Jesse finds himself chilled and miserably feeble.

Any other day in any other season, Jesse is up with the sun and the first to greet the others of the house. It takes a great gathering of nerve and an insistent hunger to pull him from his nest of wool and flannels in winter. He climbs down the ladder from his cupola and gathers up clothing from his drawers quickly, moving to stand as close to his wood stove as possible as he takes off his pajamas to pull on his longjohns, his denims, and a flannel shirt. He doubles up with wool socks and drapes a small blanket around his shoulders before he steps out of his quarters.

She must have been keeping an eye out for him, because Ana is waiting for Jesse at the bottom of the back staircase with a mug of near scalding coffee for warming his hands and a kiss on his forehead. He has the reflexes to hold his mug up and away as Fareeha barrels into him with a squawk of, “Happy Wintertide, brother Jesse!” It’s early for the child to be up, but it is a holiday she’s been excited over for weeks.

The three of them move into the kitchen for breakfast, and are greeted by Reinhardt singing carols of stars on snowy nights and sleigh bells jingling under lantern light as he mans the stove. He’s produced an impressive pile of honey cakes so far, and in the process of making more. They’ll have more than enough for any visitors that may come by for the holiday, even with the appetites of growning boys like Jesse, Genji, and Winston, who will snack on them all day.

Fareeha joins in with Reinhardt as she scrambles up her chair at the table, singing misheard lyrics as she tucks back into her own buttered and syrup soaked cakes. Torbjörn takes up percussion by tapping his spoon and fork against mugs and plates. Winston and Genji sing with full mouths, laughing as they’re scolded by Angela for being gross. Jack smiles indulgently, humming quietly as he eats, with Gabe, awake hours earlier than he’s used to, leaning against his shoulder and giving a sleepy smile.

There’s an unspoken rule between Jack and Jesse in the winter months, that no matter where they sat, Gabe would sit between them. Gabe was a living furnace that Jack had lived with for so long, so he didn’t handle the cold quite so well. Jesse needed the warmth to make up for the lack of sunshine, and Gabe’s presence was very much welcome. Gabe finds himself sandwiched between them at every turn and takes it in stride.

Jesse joins them at the long kitchen table, and takes his usual seat at the open space on Gabe’s other side. Reinhardt sets a plate before him, stacked with a healthy helping of honey cakes, and Jesse covers them in syrup. They’re fluffy and sweet, but Jesse eats enough for them to sit like cement in his stomach. Between the cakes and the coffee and sitting in range of Gabe’s personal space, he’s warmed from the inside out and finally ready to take on the day.

When everyone is at a point where they’ve had their fill, Fareeha stands on her chair and begins directing the clean up detail. Reinhardt finally sits to eat as the rest of the Coven washes the dishes and packs away leftovers. As they finish each of their duties, everyone migrates into the parlor, where Gabe puts fresh logs in the fireplace and lights them with a lazy flick of his fingers. When they’ve all gathered and made themselves comfortable, Jack takes his place in front of the fireplace to the sound of cheers. He shakes his head in amusement as he shushes them, the boys clamoring louder for it.

Once there is quiet, Jack tells the story of The Longest Night, the appearance of the first Mage. In a time long ago, on the shortest day of the year, a snowstorm blotted out the sun, leaving everything in twilight. A band of travelers were lost in the wilderness with the whiteout conditions and feared they would die if they could not find shelter by nightfall. One traveler begged the heavens, pleaded to the stars hidden beyond the snow filled clouds to give her the answer that would free them from the blizzard. She thought she was not heard, but as she sighed in disappointment, the clouds parted for her. Above, the night sky shined with stars and the travelers used them to find their way to the nearest town, their heroine leading the way to exhale and chase away the storm. It’s morning by the time they arrive, but they are safe and sound, the heavens having given what they needed to survive.

As the tale comes to a close, Jack picks up his gift from the pile that filled the corner. “And so, we give to each other something needed on the shortest day, in hopes that we will be able to make it through the longest night…”

Starting the chain, Jack hands the wrapped box to Winston, who opens it to find notebooks of graph-lined paper. Winston finds his gift and gives it to Genji, in it a polish perfectly suited for dragonscales. Genji passes Gabe a box with a small rainbow in spools of thread. It’s Torbjorn that has the gift for Jesse: wool lined leather gloves, with a stitch so fine, Torbjorn must have talked Gabe into making them. The fit is perfect and Jesse will wear them the rest of winter if he can get away with it. Jesse’s gift to give this year is to Fareeha, and she squeals in glee as she unwraps a small stack of books about birds of prey.

The last present is always for Jack, and in a tradition started by Gabe, the gift is always a gag or prank of some sort. This year, Ana is the one to present a present to Jack, though the box has Gabe’s name listed as the recipient. Both Gabe and Jack nearly laugh themselves sick when Jack pulls out a leash, complete with a collar and tags that hold Gabe’s name.

“Do you think they’ll let you wear this on the Council Floor?” Jack asks with a leer before he peels off into laughter again.

“Maybe if someone else holds the leash,” Gabe snorts. “I’m sure Director Petras would love the illusion that he had some sort of control over me.”

Jack sits with Gabe on the loveseat and gently cups Gabe’s face with his hands. “No one controls a wildfire.”

It’s Gabe that leans in to Jack for a kiss. “No, but I let you contain me freely,” he says.

Jesse joins in the chorus of younger voices calling their display of affection gross, but inside he aches. He knows he growing up now that cooties don’t seem quite so bad anymore, he just hasn’t let anyone know that yet. He dreams of being a strong, confident man much like Gabe and Jack, but he also dreams having a love like theirs, too. A love that is open and beautiful, that stands defiant in the face of all those against them. He dreams of raven hair and dark eyes, of blue and gold dragonscale.

The next few hours are lazy until the Vishkar arrives. Jesse’s in the kitchen for another honey cake and cup of coffee when the knock comes at the door. The Vishkar stays long enough for Reinhardt and Jack to sort out the messages and make sure that no other household has mistakenly slipped in, and leaves with a large bundle of honey cakes for his troubles. The mail is passed out to each recipient, the boys all scrambling to see who’s cared enough to send them good cheer.

Jesse whoops as Jack puts three letters into his hands and he rips his gloves off to tear into the envelopes. He opens a card of Wintertide greetings from the Crusaders, Reinhardt’s birth Clan. The jovial bunch had taken a shine to little Jesse years ago, on his first trip to the Mage Council halls, and they message Jesse often and ask Reinhardt about Jesse regularly. The second letter is well wishes from the Sherrif in Mesa, who Jesse learned was kin to Jack and the reason Jack and Gabe came out to find him all those years ago. He’s been so thankful of her interference in his life, knowing he probably wouldn’t have made it here without her. He hopes she receives the message he sent for the holiday in return.

The third letter is unexpected, a real mystery. At first, Jesse has no idea who it’s from, as there’s no return address and no real signature, just an… -H. Before he even has a chance to read it, Genji is pushing into his personal space to see. It dawns on Jesse in just that moment who -H might be, and yanks the letter away.

“Oh, is that from an admirer?” the Dragon Mage asks slyly.

If it is who he thinks it is, he can’t let Genji see. Jesse shoves him away and tries to leave. He all but crashes into Gabe, who is sturdy and quick enough to keep the boy on his feet. He takes one look at Jesse’s face, probably red as a tomato by the heat Jesse feels in his cheeks, and lets him go. Gabe will probably distract Genji to give Jesse a little time, but Gabe will come looking for him later.

He climbs up into his nest in the cupola, the light of the high noon winter sun shining bright in the clear sky, making a glow as it pours through the windows onto Jesse. Jesse reads the whole thing and rereads it again.

Dearest Sun, I hope this finds you well, even as the shortest days are here. Think of longer days, when we might meet again, to help make it through. I do. Yours, -H

Hanzo. Jesse knows it’s Hanzo.

His heart hammers in his chest and he shoves the letter under his pillows. He wants to see Hanzo, too, but he doesn’t know how to take those words. Are they friendly, or more so? Does Hanzo maybe feel the same way as Jesse? Would they ever have a chance with the Shimada Clan controlling everything Hanzo does? Could it just be that Hanzo wants to know how Genji is doing? Jesse smothers himself with a pillow and yells his frustration into it.

He’s thinking of rereading the letter again when there’s a knock on his door below. After giving a halfhearted call of admittance, Jesse sees Gabe’s head peeking above the ladder. He takes a moment to eye Jesse, probably gauging his mood, before he grumbles.

“Up too early. Nap time.”

Jesse groans. “Aww, no. If you nap here, Jack’ll come looking, and I ain’t got the room for both of ya’ll.”

Frowning, Gabe narrows his eyes at Jesse. “That was never a problem before.”

“I ain’t as small as I ustah be!”

“No, but you’re kind of gangly still…” Gabe disappears for a moment, only to come back up with a thermos of tea and a plate with a bastardized ham sandwich, using honey cakes for bread. Jesse knows a peace offering when he sees one and lets Gabe join him, but he still sighs in exasperation for good measure. He is a teenager, after all, and has an image to cultivate.

Gabe gets comfortable at the foot of Jesse’s makeshift bed and already it’s warmer in there with his presence. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back against the frame of a window, closing his eyes for just a moment. Jesse waits for either soft snores or the third degree.

“So, Genji thinks you have a secret admirer.”

No snoring, then. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push’em,” Jesse says, fiddling with the edge of a blanket.

“When next you see him, you should tell him that. Why did do it, though?”

Jesse thinks of the letter under the pillow, of the two brothers ripped apart by their own birth Clan. He thinks of Genji’s pain and anger, of Hanzo’s regret and confinement. Uncovering the letter, he smooths out the wrinkled page against his thigh and hands it to Gabe. He watches as Gabe’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.

“I think it’s Hanzo. Didn’t want Genji to see, iffin it was…”

Gabe reads it over again before handing it back. “He courting you?” he bluntly asks.

Jesse sputters an indignant, “N-no!” He knows his face is going red, though.

“You thinking of courting him?” Gabe asks with a tilt of his head, reading Jesse like a book.

Jesse folds the message neatly and tucks it back under a pillow, avoiding looking at Gabe all the while. Finally he sighs, sitting back again a window slowing fogging over with the heat of a Fire Mage furnace, and turns his eyes to Gabe. “I like him well enough… but… Genji… his Clan… And I don’t right know if that’s juss… Hanzo needing a friend or him really being sweet on me, y’know?”

Gabe makes a sound of sympathetic agreement. “I’m proud of you for at least trying to keep your head over your heart.”

“But it’s so confusing, Gabe,” Jesse says, running a weary hand over his face. “My head knows what’s right, but my heart don’t wanna listen. No matter how much I try saying it won’t work, my heart… juss wants to see him smile. It’s like sunshine…” And they both know how much Jesse actually needs sunshine.

They sit in silence for a few moments before Gabe sighs, a smoky trail lifting from his lips. “I actually hate that story Jack tells every year,” he says, voice low. “He never tells about how everyone was so terrified of her that they later slaughtered the Mage in her sleep. Or how she wasn’t really the first Mage, there were others before her, but history has erased them.”

Jesse cringes. “I never much liked it before because it was a story about snow. That’s right terrible, Gabe.”

“I understand why he tells it, though,” Gabe says. “It has themes of looking for answers to make things better, rising up when all is lost, and sharing what you can when others are in need. Do what you have to to make it through the longest night, to see what’s on the other side… Jack and I wouldn’t be here without the ideas behind that story. You wouldn’t be here.”

Nodding, Jesse understands that. If Jack’s cousin, the Sherrif out there on The Mesa, hadn’t thought to call Jack to help Jesse, who knows where Jesse would be right now.

“To be honest, love is kinda the same way,” Gabe goes on, patting Jesse’s knee reassuringly. “You’re young, so it’s always going to feel like every person you fall for is the one. But, Jesse, if you’re willing to work the other person’s affections, they’re trying hard the same for yours, they can be the one. You both should talk. If Hanzo wants more than your friendship, and you want more from Hanzo… Then, do what you have to do to see the other side. Just keep in mind, his Clan will not be kind to you. They’ll be even crueler to Hanzo.”

Jesse swallows and nods. The Shimada Clan were cruel enough to try killing Genji for the formation of his magic, rather than just abandoning him. Hanzo was the heir to the Clan’s leader, and was being forced into the mold; anything that could get in the way would definitely be dealt with. There was a lot for Jesse to think about.

His thoughts were quickly broken by a knock at his door.

“He’s too old for sleepovers, Jack!” Gabe whines pathetically.

The door quietly opens and shuts, Jack showing up on the ladder a moment later. “Nonsense. He’s still gangly. We’ll just have to squeeze in a bit tighter.”

The windows of the cupola have fogged up enough that Jesse couldn’t even see the afternoon sun turning the sky to gold. “No, no way! You will not nap up here!” he shouts, laughing as he defends what space he has for himself.

Gabe topples over, tackling Jesse into the bedding and giving Jack enough room to sit at the top of the ladder. “Our boy is growing up, Jack. We’ve got to stop him, before he’s too strong!”

Jack leans onto Gabe, putting more weight onto Jesse, who’s howling with laughter even as he’s being flattened. “Quick, we’ll squish him back down to size.”

They’re all three laughing, and Jesse is sure the sound of it is carrying through the large house. Before long, Fareeha or Genji and Winston will come barging in to see what’s so amusing. Until then, Jesse is going to let himself be hugged and fussed over by these two men, the closest he’s ever had to parents. These two men who found him all alone in an abandoned barn, desperately wishing for a way home when he had no answers of his own. His own longest night brought him here, giving Jesse the chance to see the other side, and he’s never been more grateful. Or more willing to look forward to the end of another long night.

[blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms]

Okami- Hanzo Shimada

Pairing: Hanzo Shimada x Reader (Platonic)

Characters: Hanzo Shimada, Genji Shimada

Warnings: Animal Murder!!!!

Request: N/A

Word Count: 1755

Author: Aaron

The trek up the mountain path was treacherous. You had abandoned the rocky foot path about four hours ago after Hanzo, your older brother, had spotted tracks leading to the mouth of a well-known cave.

The pack of wolves had been terrorizing your village for the past two weeks. Stealing livestock; helping themselves to the grain stores; attacking and even killing wandering villagers who stepped too far out of the village boundaries. Your father had sent you and your older brothers, Hanzo and Genji up to… in his own words… ‘dispose of the pests’ as a rite of passage.

You had been tracking the pack of wolves for the past two days. The harsh, bitter cold bit at your fingertips and toes and the howling northern winds obscured your vision as they shot a slurry of snow and sleet into your face. You held a heavily gloved hand in front of your eyes to try and get a glance at the surrounding scenery.

Throughout the course of the expedition you had quickly grown tired of the constant quips between your siblings, the bickering and arguments were nonstop and never-ending. Normally starting thanks to Genji bragging about one of his many ‘achievements’ and Hanzo quickly bringing him crashing back down to reality.

“This reminds me of the time I slayed a great bear, single-handedly of course, in the eastern pass,” Genji proudly raised his hand to his chest, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

Hanzo stopped in his tracks, his eyes darted to Genji. If looks could kill, Genji would have not made it past his early teens.

“You know as well as I do that that bear was a cub, there was no reason to take its life. You just wanted something to brag to the village, another trophy to add to your many so called accomplishments.” Hanzo continued to trudge through the shin-deep snow as Genji brushed off his remarks. You wished they would just hurry up, you could not feel your nose and you just wanted to be back around the hearth at home.

“Your arrogance will be your undoing brother, you need to learn that your accomplishments do not define you. You could do great things if you just learned that.”

Genji replied with a shrug and a ‘pfft’. Would they ever just get on? Even through Hanzo’s plentiful remarks about how he could often ‘kill the damn fool’, you knew that they relied on each other and loved each other with only a bond that brothers could share.

Food supplies had dwindled at a surprising rate, you often wondered if Genji had made his way into the backpack whilst you and Hanzo slept. Hanzo’s expert marksmanship had come in handy, allowing you to kill and cook small game. He was only eighteen years old but he could nail a hare from two hundred metres away, his years of isolation and dedication to archery had paid off.

Genji on the other hand had an innate ability that could have taken him much further than where he sat. Unfortunately, he had decided to use this Shimada birth right for the wrong reasons, using it only to gain women, fame and wealth. This was of course the Shimada way, but Genji went the wrong way about it, much to the dismay of your father. He easily could have surpassed you and Hanzo, but the lack of dedication to his craft had left his skills and talents unrefined and coarse.

“Well then, how about that time I-”

This time Genji’s boasting was cut short, not by Hanzo but by four sets of very deep rumbles and growls from just over the ridge that was sat ahead of you.

Hanzo stepped forward, put his hand on your chest, pushing you behind him. He pulled his bow off of his back, a simple weapon made of dark bamboo and leather, placing his hand on his quiver, located on his right hip that was stocked with arrows, all made by Hanzo.

Your eyes darted from tree to tree, your heart pounding like a drum, you felt the world around you start to spin as you slowly started to slip into unconsciousness. Hanzo grabbed under your arm as you started to drop, he pulled the thick bandanna away from his mouth as a warm smile gave you faith.

“Do not worry brother, I will protect you.”

Genji unsheathed his tanto blade, the curve sharpened to a razors edge, he held it across the blade of his forearm as he scanned the surrounding environment.

You had only been trusted with a small, jagged dagger. The weapon measuring from about four inches, handle to tip. You struggle to undo the knot that held it to your hip, you held it out in front of you, clasped in both of your trembling hands.

You had only been brought along on this mission because of your namesake.

The wolves appeared on the ridge, the alpha of the pack, known across the region as Shiomotorasu, or the bringer of death, stood proudly in front of the others who seemed to stand in his shadow.

The pack had mostly mangy fur, patchy and miscoloured. They looked underfed, two of the wolves from the back stepped forward, before being met by a sharp growl from Shiomotorasu, they whined and quickly stepped back. Shiomotorasu stood at almost double the size of the rest of the pack, everyone who had tried to hunt him had not been found, you would not suffer the same fate.

“An easy hunt,” Genji shrugged his shoulders and dashed towards the pack of bloodthirsty wolves.

“Genji, No!” Hanzo called out, trying to grab his younger brothers arm but it was too late. Genji managed to slash Shiomotorasu across the cheek, but it did nothing except add another scar to his collection. Shiomotorasu pounced on Genji, his jaw latching onto Genji’s side.

The other wolves jumped off the ridge and surrounded you and Hanzo whilst Shiomotorasu toyed with his prey, you and Hanzo stood back to back.

One of the smaller beasts leapt towards you, clutching the small dagger you had been entrusted with you plunged it into the throat of the beast, causing it to fall to the floor with a thud and a yelp. A dark furred wolf stared at Hanzo, salivating and licking its lips it ran towards him. The creature did not last long before finding a well-placed arrow between its eyes.

Whilst you were both preoccupied, the last of the smaller wolfs had managed to launch an attack, pouncing on Hanzo. The force of the blow had knocked the bow out of Hanzo’s hand and had spread the arrows across the floor around him, all just out of arms reach. Drool covered Hanzo’s face as he managed to keep the jaws of death at an arms distance, he would not be able to keep the beast at bay for long, the wolves were smaller than Shiomotorasu but were still a formidable size.

You ran over the bow and picked it up, Hanzo had taught you the basics, but you struggled to hit the easiest and largest of targets.

You nocked the arrow, and pulled back the string, aiming for the head of the wolf. The arrow flew through the air with incredible speed, flying through the gap between Hanzo’s face and the beasts muzzle and sticking in a tree just behind them. The beast looked up at the arrow, giving Hanzo just enough time to kick the beast off of him, allowing him to pull the arrow out of the tree and bury it in the shoulder of the ferocious canine, the beast crawled off of Hanzo and limped away, leaving a trail of maroon blood in the pure, white snow.

Hanzo pulled himself up using the tree the arrow had struck, clutching at his side. You call out to him.

“Hanzo, catch!”

You threw the bow to Hanzo, in one swift motion he caught the bow, nocked an arrow and fired. The arrow flew through the air with a loud whistle, before passing through Shiomotorasu’s skull and landing just beyond in the pale ground. Genji was showered in an array of bone fragments and blood. The beast slumped on Genji, winding him under its gargantuan weight.

You and Hanzo ran over to Genji, you went to pull the animal off of your brother before being stopped by Hanzo who placed a hand on your chest and pushed you to the side.

A hearty chuckle escaped from Hanzo’s breathless lips.

“Well, well.”

“Hanzo, get this damn thing off of me.”

“Not yet,” Hanzo crouched to the side of Genji.

“Once more you do not listen, and once more you must be saved from the literal jaws of defeat.”

“Hanzo, this is not the time, get this mangy thing off of me!”

A pool of blood developed under Genji, you weren’t sure who it belonged to.

“Admit you were wrong and I will set you free.”

Genji rolled his eyes, in a mocking tone he replied,

“I was wrong, Hanzo is the best, my tru-”

Hanzo snapped back, his face inches away from Genji’s.

“You need to take this seriously, you almost died out there, what if Y/N and I were not out here to save you? One day we will not be here to tend to your injuries and save your reckless self from situations like this.”

Genji looked at the floor and let out a deep sigh.

“Fine… I was wrong, next time I will be more careful.”

A large smile appeared on Hanzo’s face.

“Good, that will do… for now.”

He walked over and grabbed Shiomotorasu’s corpse by the scruff of the neck and dragged it behind a large tree.

“Y/N... tend to his wounds.” You walk over and kneel next to your brother, you had no idea what Hanzo was doing but you had learned not to question his sometimes... curious ways.

You cleaned away the blood surrounding his grievous wounds, the blood had already started to clot. You washed away the blood to reveal an arc of puncture marks along his rib cage, Genji was very lucky that Shiomotorasu had decided to toy with him.

You continued to bandage Genji, the surrounding snow had become thick and sticky with blood, Hanzo returned from beyond the tree. Viscous, crimson blood dripping into the snow. Shiomotorasu’s pelt crowning Hanzo’s head, the yellowed fangs hanging just above his eyes and the tail brushing the floor at his feet.

[macabrecabra]

Reaper trying to take Jesse with him after a battle because he doesn't trust Jack to feed him properly?

Alittle family feel just for you c: I set it during the Blackwatch eraas was easier to think of an idea if that is okay ;  w  ;(Note:still not taking Overwatch writing prompts, trying to clear em out soI can focus on finishing longer fics, one-shot collections in otherfandom, and aquawatch asks c:)Title: Food for ThoughtRating: PGRelationship: Papa Gabriel and Jack Morrisonarguing over the cowboy son Jack Morrison really did seeGabriel as a great friend,really he did. Just sometimes, he justreally wanted to strangle the man. Especially when he got so damnornery about something ridiculous.

Feeding Jesse wasjust another one of those strange little things that Gabriel couldget fixated on to the point Jack was wondering if he did it just toraise his blood pressure.“You aren't going to feed himright so I'll just bring him along with me back to the base-”“He'sin the middle of a war, not coming home from school for lunchGabriel!” Jack shot back, “And he is over twenty years old! Heisn't exactly an infant!”Gabriel growled, eyes narrowed,“And have him eat that shit you call rations? He's coming back withme and getting fed. He still needs to put some proper weight on thosebones!”Jack could feel a migraine tickling just behind hiseyes as he heaved a sigh through his nose, trying to keep his temperin check, “Look, Gabriel, if I call him now, by the time he getsback from his position, it will be dinner time.”“Fine.Then we will have a large dinner and he can stay the night and get agood breakfast,” the Blackwatch commander retorted. Thestriker commander closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, summoning upall the patience he had left to deal with the situation at hand,“Gabriel, please. Be reasonable about this. He will be fed fine.The rations are fine. You think Mercy lets anything but the best forour troops get approved?”“The best doesn't always meansit tastes good. That processed protein bullshit tastes like someoneboiled leather and paper together and mixed it into a mass of catvomit,” Gabriel crossed his arms scowling. “The boy comes homewith me.”“I know you are worried about him, but we needBlackwatch here. He's one of our best advance scouts. How do youthink he is going to react to someone just yanking him off the fieldto eat? This is his one big moment to shine. Don't take that awayfrom the kid. Trust me, he'll hate you more for it.”Gabrielscowled, eyes narrowing as he stared at Jack Morrison. The strikercommander offered a tired but sincere smile back, praying that whathe said would appease Gabriel. He cared about McCree, no doubt aboutthat. Oddly enough, Gabriel Reyes was quiet the father figure to afew agents of Blackwatch but that came at a price. He could turn intoa mother hen about keeping watch over the lot of them. It didn'tmatter if they were competent or not, Gabriel would find a way to tryand drag them back home at the smallest hint of them being in anysort of real danger. “Just trust me Gabriel. I won't letJesse get hurt okay? I know how much he means to you, how much allyour agents mean to you.”Gabriel let out a frustrated sighbefore straightening up, “Fine, just do me on favor,” he growled.Jack arched an eyebrow, tilting his head, “And what wouldthat be?”The Blackwatch commander pulled what appeared tobe a pair of lunchboxes out of the backpack he had brought with him,one adorned with a cartoonish cowboy of some popular kid's show andthe other adorned with a group of ninja reptiles. “Givethat to McCree and Genji and before you ask, I only made Genji one sohe feels like part of the family, not because he actually eatsanything in there.” He paused before glancing away with a scowl.“Its mostly just hotwheel cars in his but you tell that brat hebetter not let playing with stupid toy cars distract him from themission!”Jack just shook his head with a sigh, “Alwayshave a back-up plan to your helicopter father ways, don'tyou?”Gabriel snorted, “Someone has to take care of thosebrats. Just make sure they get it okay?”“Fine, fine. I'llpersonally deliver them their lunches and tell them their mother hentold them to behave,” Jack drawled with a slight smirk.TheBlackwatch commander gave the strike commander one last glare beforeturning on his heels and stalking out of the room. Jack merely shookhis head with a sigh. Once a father, always a father itseemed.

[solivar]

WIP: Ghost Stories On Route 66

aka the one where Hanzo Shimada is an expatriate student of the Fine Arts, attending college in what he assumes to be a reasonably sedate corner of the American southwest. Jesse McCree is an occasionally leather-clad NPS ranger whose duties extend somewhat further than shooing lost tourists back onto the clearly marked hiking trails. Something weird is going on in the desert south of Santa Fe and their lives unexpectedly come together in the middle of it.

Now featuring 100% more Gabriel Reyes, terrifying smoke monster mother hen, subtle declarations of mutual affection, and Hanzo having a terrible, horrible no good very bad sequence of days.

Hanzo turned his face to the cloudy, light-pollution washed sky and closed his eyes as the evening breeze washed over him. It was perceptibly warmer in the city than it was out on the high desert, but still cleaner than the air of nearly any other city he’d ever breathed, and he drew it deep into his lungs, once, twice, thrice. On the third, he expelled it with a silent prayer for the intercession of his ancestors, preferably all of them, hopefully at least Grandmother Hanako, who until the hour of her passage from the world possessed the ability to defuse any form of about-to-explode much younger Genji right up the point of detonation. It was that sweet and gentle nature he needed right now, the precise words necessary to calm and soothe, the iron-spined powers of almost courtly decorum necessary to avoid having a screaming argument with his little brother on the doorstep in front of who knew how many neighbors and/or housemates. Because that would, of course, be the absolute perfect way to end a day that was already sprawled out insouciantly on its side giving reality an assortment of rude gestures.

He turned to face Genji and found him standing in a physically contorted state trapped almost precisely between flailing limbs-akimbo outrage and fists planted on his hips primarily to avoid strangling anyone outrage. The result was more than vaguely disturbing to the human eye and seemed to involve far more joints that he actually possessed. His hair, recently re-dyed the nature-insulting shades of acidic green he favored, looked as though he had spent a considerable quantity of time alternately tugging at it in a transport of some strong emotion or smoothing it back down in an effort to avoid broadcasting said transport to any observers without any particular success. His face was a mask of mutually contradictory emotions, his eyes were bloodshot in a manner that strongly suggested a lack of sleep instead of chemical mood enhancement, and his eyelashes were stuck together in the sort of spiky clumps they developed only when he’d been crying and he was still crying, there were tears in his eyes, and Hanzo dropped his bag and threw his arms around his wonderful, terrible little brother and embraced him tightly. “Shhh. It’s all right.”

Genji’s return embrace seriously compressed his ribcage and nearly lifted him off the ground with the force of it, his brother’s voice ragged in his ears. “You’re alive you’re alive where have you been I’ve been so worried I filed a missing persons report --”

“Genji,” Hanzo wheezed perhaps a bit more dramatically than was strictly necessary even given the circumstances, “I need air. And a missing persons report? You called the police?”

His brother let go only enough to relocate the force of his grip from ribcage to shoulders and Hanzo was absolutely certain he was going to have a couple Genji-hand-shaped-bruises in the morning. Some of the half-crazed intensity of emotion had bled from his face but his eyes remained bright -- irridescently glittering lit-from-within green as well as tears, an altogether dangerous sign. “Four days, Hanzo. You have been gone for four days. I was expecting you home Saturday at the latest. So I ask again: where have you been? And also: who was that and how badly am I going to have to maim him?”

My car broke down in the desert, something nearly ate my soul, he’s an NPS ranger too beautiful for this world please do not kill him. It was on the tip of his tongue to say it, driven by the force of his brother’s fear, and the only thing that kept the words behind his teeth was the knowledge that there were all exactly the wrong thing to say, particularly the soul-eating bit, which he was completely certain Genji would not accept with anything resembling serenity no matter how many mind-altering substances he might be consuming at any given time. Neither was he going to let it go, the grip on his shoulders tightening, eyes narrowing a dangerous fraction, and Hanzo reached for the first semi-reasonable explanation to come to mind and blurted out, “I -- I -- was enjoying what I was doing and lost track of time!”

The look that took up residence on Genji’s face was equal parts I cannot believe you just said that, aniki and WHAT mixed liberally with oh fucking no you didn’t. “Hanzo. Discovering you have a great deal in common with one of your classmates on the first day of the semester and spending two hours aimlessly wandering the quad talking is enjoying what you were doing and losing track of time. Spending an hour contemplating the menu at Starbucks while trying to work up the nerve to make a pass at the hot new barista is enjoying what you were doing and losing track of time. Driving out into the desert and disappearing for four fucking days? That is something else entirely and I’m vaguely insulted you even tried to pull that on me and for fuck’s sake I was about to call home and tell mother to start watching for ransom demands.”

“Genji, I was in no danger.” Except for the point where YOUR SOUL was almost eaten, the rational voice of rationality remarked, dryly, apparently in league with the self-destructive desire to tell his brother everything. “My car broke down -- I walked to one of the ranger stations. I stayed with him a few days until the arrangements to retrieve my disabled vehicle could be made, and then he brought me home.”

“And you enjoyed that.” And there was the world’s most sarcastic human making himself known.

Hanzo shrugged slightly, Genji’s grip on his shoulders loosening enough that the gesture mostly dislodged it. “Not the breaking down and walking through the freezing desert in the middle of the night, no. Everything else? I managed to get quite a bit of work done and the ranger was excellently helpful and completely professional the entire time we were together.” He bent, picked up his bag, and schooled his face into what he hoped was a serenely competent mask sufficient to cover a gigantic sack of barely believable lies. “I’m sorry I frightened you -- I lost cellular service and -- “

“She couldn’t find you, Hanzo.” Genji whispered, fiercely. “I asked her to find you and she said you were gone, you were nowhere, I thought the police would find you lying dead somewhere -- “

“I would not do that to you.” Hanzo snapped a glare at him, equally fierce.

“I know that.” Genji did not quite reach for him again, though it was a near thing. “And the world continues to be graciously oversupplied with other ways for everyone to leave it.”

“I do not know why she couldn’t find me.” Hanzo could not meet his brother’s eyes and speak that lie at the same time, instead opting to step past him toward the door, head down as though watching his step. “As I said: I was perfectly safe. It has, however, been a very long few days and I want nothing more than my own bed. You cannot imagine how uncomfortable ranger station cots are until you’ve had to sleep on one involuntarily.”

“Yes I can.” He could feel the weight of Genji’s stare laying between his shoulderblades like the tip of a knife. “I let Zen drag me up to that commune outside Angel Fire. I’m pretty sure their beds are Works Progress Administration surplus from the ‘40s. The nineteen-forties.”

Hanzo chuckled, politely, thumbed open the front door and was promptly bowled back onto the steps by the force of the charge that greeted him.

“You’re home!” Hana Song was, like his brother, a student in the tech end of video game design. Unlike him, she had absolutely no hesitation when it came to hitting him and so she did, and with a startling amount of force for someone that weighed perhaps a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet. “Do you have any idea how worried we’ve all been, you jerk, you lousy inconsiderate jackass, you -- “ She stopped, glared up at him, and yanked him inside. “Let’s not do this on the front stoop. Genji, are you coming?”

“Hana, let it go. He’s not dead and he apparently hasn’t been shacked up with persons unknown, either.” Genji stepped in and closed the door, casually deflecting the killing glare that Hanzo flung in his direction.

“Oh, so Person Unknown is free and clear then, hmm? Good, because from what I could see he was a stone fox. Where’d you find him?” Hana gave him a quick hug in apology, gears shifting as quickly as that, and snatched the object Ranger McCree had pressed into his hand on their parting. “Oh -- oh holy crap. He’s a park ranger? Are you serious?”

Hanzo snatched the object -- a card -- back and physically resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Car broke down, he rescued me, drove me home, perfect gentleman, I would like to go to bed now.”

“Oh, it’s perfect gentleman and not completely professional when you talk to her about it?” Genji asked and now Hanzo found himself resisting the urge to spin hard enough to smack his wonderful, terrible asshole brother firmly in the gut with his bag. “There’s a not inconsiderable difference between those two things, brother.”

“No there isn’t.” Hanzo replied and, fuck it, introduced his bag to Genji’s midsection in a fashion not entirely unlike a hip-check. “In any case, yes, he is a real park ranger, he was extremely kind to me, I had not noticed his appearance, I am entirely sorry I worried you all, and now I am going to go upstairs, take a shower, send a number of groveling emails to my professors, and then go to bed. If that is acceptable to you two?”

“I think we should get Lu and Zen down here and make a family vote of it,” Hana crossed her arms over her chest but nonetheless stepped aside at his growl. “You haven’t heard the last of this, Hanzo Shimada. You, of all people, don’t get to go galavanting off for whole days at a time and then stroll back home without a reasonable explanation -- “

Hanzo leaned over the second story balustrade. “Genji does that literally all the time.”

“That’s Genji!” Hana shouted back. “You are the grounded and responsible Shimada sibling, and if you two are going to switch personalities you can’t do it at random, there needs to be at least two weeks written notice!”

“I’ll keep that in mind for the future.” Hanzo shouted down from the third floor landing.

“Be sure you do!” Hana shouted back. “Seriously, are you going to call him back? Because if you don’t call him, I totally will. I want a look at that in broad daylight.”

“Good night, Hana.” Hanzo stepped into his room, closed the door, dropped his bag, took the pillow from his bed and screamed into it for five minutes because, sometimes, there was literally nothing else to do if he wished to retain even a modicum of sanity.

Then, because he was indeed the grounded and responsible Shimada sibling, he turned on his holo-terminal and wrote the requisite groveling email of woe and dismay that went into exquisitely embroidered detail about POS rental cars, wandering through the desert at night pursued by coyotes, and the almost total lack of cellular service out in the hinterlands beyond the city limits, which he then forwarded to the four professors whose classes he had involuntarily cut, checked the queue to make certain that the art history paper he had finished last week was still set to go out first thing in the morning and sat, staring, at the little white rectangle of plastic laminate Ranger McCree had pressed into his hand. Plain white bordered in vivid green (National Park Service/US Department of the Interior), the inverted arrowhead seal, his name and contact information (Jesse McCree, Education Liaison, Special Incident Command at Cerrillos National Monument, address, cellular code, email). The laminate coating caught the dim light of even his holoscreen and refracted it in a now-familiar geometric pattern, the card feeling warmer in his hand than could be accounted for even by a transfer of body heat and, without meaning to do so, he pressed it to his lips and slipped it into his underwear drawer, where he was reasonably certain Hana would be completely unwilling to go fishing should she come looking for it. He almost started a second email but acknowledged, if only to himself, that it was considerably beyond pathetic to write a man who had merely been doing his duty, even the outstandingly weird parts, particularly when he didn’t actually have anything to say. At least for the moment. He had a week-long course of medicine to take and he realized that he was, even more pathetically, hoping that whatever it was wouldn’t work so he’d have the excuse.

“You are an outstanding coward of the highest possible caliber,” He informed his reflection in the upstairs bathroom mirror as he stripped out of the borrowed sweats even as he acknowledged them as another good reason to contact the ranger again -- they were only borrowed, after all, he couldn’t keep the man’s clothes. “Hello, Ranger McCree, this is Hanzo Shimada, you know, the one whose soul you saved from being eaten? I would just like to meet in order to return your tee-shirt and sweatpants and would you possibly also like to have dinner? Perhaps coffee? I promise I will keep my housemates and brother as far from you as humanly possible and once this exchange is done we will never have to see one another again and could you be any worse at this, for the love of the gods, stop.”

“Hanzo?” The voice on the other side of the bathroom door belonged to Tekhartha Zenyatta, his brother’s constant companion in dubious sobriety and bendy activities that could probably get them arrested in at least thirty states and seventeen foreign countries. “Are you well?”

“I’m fine, Zen. Just talking to myself.” Hanzo replied, and turned on the water in the shower. “My apologies if I disturbed you.”

“Not at all, my friend.” A warmly melodious chuckle from the hallway. “If you wish to speak, know that I am here for you.”

“Thank you, Zen.”

He should, he supposed, have a slightly more antagonistic relationship with the man who was arguably corrupting the quite thoroughly and voluntarily corruptible morals of his younger brother, but somehow he couldn’t find it in himself to work up any serious quantity of animus for the Tekhartha. For one thing, he couldn’t look at the man without perceiving him as some sort of elegant, kindhearted, slightly baked at all times praying mantis, who looked out at the world with enormous jewelled eyes and saw a bunch of people in dire need of enormously gentle talk therapy, palliative massage, and huge quantities of psychoactive recreational chemicals designed lubricate the interaction of minds and bodies with other minds and bodies. Sometimes literally. And therein lay the problem: Zen was an actual trained clinical psychologist underneath the doofy exterior and if there was anyone in the house to whom he would, through accident or design, give up the whole something freakishly weird happened in the desert and my soul was almost eaten and somehow the ranger saved me and I have no idea how to feel or what to think about any of this thing it was most definitely him. Possibly over tea. No, check that: definitely over tea. Hanzo made a mental note to take his medicinal beverage alone in his room if at all possible.

That night, at least, it was possible: by the time he finished cleaning up and went downstairs to the kitchen, the common areas were devoid of life. A faint trace of haunting melody drifted down from above, testiment to the presence of Lucio Correia dos Santos, their fourth housemate, who was likely as deep in the process of musical composition as he ought to be in the process of visual composition. The absence of Genji and Zen from the sitting room, where the holotank and all the entertainment systems were located meant they were likely upstairs, entertaining one another somewhat more athletic ways. The absence of Hana from the same meant she was cramming for a midterm, having laid in a supply of snacks and energy beverages some time before.

He extracted the package from its anonymous plastic bag wrapping, feeling entirely too much like an operative in an action movie just before the villains came crashing in through the windows to steal is laboriously acquired intelligence or, possibly, like a teenager about to open his first stroke mag purchased under plain brown wrappers -- entirely too nervous by half and for no good reason. It was medicine. It was medicine. He absolutely was not about to drink something prescribed to him by some unknown person living in the middle of a nowhere who was close personal friends with a smoke monster and the world’s most desireable park ranger.

“It’s medicine, not a drug,” He told himself, as he examined the tiny, elegant, single-serving tea bell and the tiny, elegant tin, outside etched in a delicate swirling mandala in a dozen shades of blue, the lid covered in a freshly printed sticker written in a language he couldn’t read but which was, he knew from a couple hundred credit hours worth of art history classes, was probably some form of Arabic. He firmly ignored the voice of rationality that insisted on pointing out drugs and medicines were exactly the same damned thing.

He snapped a picture of it and asked his phone for a translation, which it provided after a moment of taxing its little computer brain. For the restoration of weakened bonds between spirit and flesh, it said. Take one cup daily for seven days, preferably before sleep. Instructions: steep one teaspoon of the loose mixture in a cup of hot but not boiling water for no more than three minutes. Jesse tells me that you are a gentle, wounded soul who came by your injuries through no fault of your own, and for this reason I will tell you that the addition of a little honey and lemon will not harm the therapeutic qualities of this blend at all. May the Merciful and the Just stand between you and harm in all the empty places where you must walk. Brewed, it smelled wonderfully rich and herbaceous, a deep green-golden color even before he added a dollop of honey. He admitted to himself, after the first sip, that it probably didn’t need the honey: he couldn’t place any individual flavor but the way they blent together on his tongue was delicious beyond any other herbal infusion that he could recall, the perfume of it filling his head with every breath.

He put the tin in his section of the kitchen cabinets and set the cup and the tea bell in the sink for the morning, feeling the tug of sleep on his limbs and head and eyes already, knowing he might just fall asleep on a landing if he didn’t seek his bed at once. He was out before his head touched the pillow and that night, when he dreamt for the thousandth time of coiling sky blue scales and air that tasted of the oncoming storm and lightning-stroke eyes that weighed him and measured him and turned away, he felt the contemptuous weight of that silent judgment slightly less.

*

Hanzo woke five minutes before his alarm was set to go off and, for the first time in a very long time, he did not simply reach over and turn it off and roll out of bed with the intent of getting a fresh and early start on the day. Instead he grabbed it, yanked it until the plug either exited the outlet in the wall or the cord parted company with the back of the clock itself, dropped it in the wastepaper basket, rolled over and went back to sleep. He only began crawling vaguely in the direction of consciousness again when something -- something persistent and annoying -- managed to work its way through the cocoon of formlessly dreamy somnolence wound around his mind and soul like the world’s warmest, softest blanket. A sound? It felt like a sound even as his body refused to admit that he was hearing anything at all, not birdsong from the branches of the ginko growing in the side yard nearest his window, none of the usual morning sounds from his housemates going about their daily routines, not even his own breath and heartbeat. The worst part was he couldn’t even put a finger on why it was so irritating, it just was, relentlessly, grindingly so and when his eyes finally snapped open it was with a barely restrained urge to kill pulsing hotly behind them and it was probably a good thing he had nothing sharp or heavy in easy reach and he was not in his own bed. Instead, he was looking again at a fieldstone kiva graced with a little rearing horse statue and the sort of happy little flowering cactus that a neo-futurist clone of Bob Ross would have painted because he decided the horse statue needed a friend, curled on his side in the cushions of the world’s most comfortable couch, nested in the world’s most comfortable throw blankets, listening to the world’s most aggravating non-sound claw at the inside of his being.

How was the first coherent thought to make itself known, followed closely by Genji is going to have hysterical screaming hysterics and then how HOW how the fucking HOW?

“Gabe.”

That was new: a voice he’d never heard before, period, not only in this specific context, deep and gravelly, the sort of voice one could clearly imagine growling orders over poorly functioning communications systems in the middle of a life-or-death crisis or offering a pep-talk on the sidelines to a scrappy-but-legitimately-terrible little league team that lost more than they won and still got pizza and milkshakes at the end of the season because he was just that sort of coach, warm and rough all at once.

“Gabe.”

And also beginning to experience a certain urge toward homicidal violence, if the tightness in his tone was anything to go by.

“Gabriel!”

The psychotically aggravating sound-not-sound abruptly ceased.

“What?” Now there was a voice he knew: the smoke monster. The smoke monster somewhere traumatically close by and Hanzo froze, involuntarily, torn between the desire to pull the blankets over his head in a childish impulse to test their monster-repellent properties and an equally potent urge to leap to his feet and start demanding answers, beginning immediately and lasting until he was fully satisfied with the results. Also nearby: footsteps on the hardwood floor, moving light and swift, accompanied by a gently rhythmic taptaptaping.

“Hon, I know you’re worried, but you really, really have to stop doing that. There are non-predatory species hunkering down in the bushes, watching the house with murderous intent. Unless you want Jesse to walk into a low-budget remake of a Hitchcock flick when he gets home, you need to take it down a notch.” Little League Commando’s tone was far, far gentler than its native amount of gargled with whiskey and fifty caliber shell casings seemed to allow and, moving slowly, Hanzo eased himself up out of the defensive blanket-nest, stealthily, stealthily, and peered over the back of the couch.

The smoke monster was, at the moment, particularly smoky, a barely humanoid mass of vaporous shadowy coils interspersed with a completely excessive number of smoldering crimson eyes and the fangy slash of mouths, plural. It hovered more than sat in the cushioned windowseat overlooking the front porch, a crepuscular appendage that couldn’t quite be called an arm holding the curtains back just far enough to let in a shaft of wan sunlight that clearly, obviously wanted absolutely nothing to do with illuminating it and also for it to see out with multiple sets of eyes. Jack, by way of extreme personal contrast, looked as though all the color had been systematically siphoned out of his hair and skin by extradimensional pigment thieves, leaving behind white and the faintest hint of ash and the bluest blue eyes Hanzo had ever seen. Eyes, point in fact, that were fixed unseeing at a point somewhere above the smoke monster’s putative head; the cane he leaned on, despite not looking like the traditional red-tipped-white, was clearly a sensory assistive device of some kind.

Where the fuck IS HE, Jack. It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t spoken out loud, and the intensity of the emotion in it involuntarily tightened Hanzo’s throat, sent a thrill of fear straight to his limbic system. It’s not that far to the city, he should have been back HOURS ago.

“Gabe,” Jack -- it had to be Jack, there was no one else in the room -- replied, in the sort of carefully neutral tone that suggested, strongly, some variation of this conversation had occurred at least a few dozen times before and would likely occur a few dozen times again in the future, “You know I hate to be the one to remind you of this but, well, he’s not actually seventeen anymore. He is, in fact, a grown-ass adult who is entirely capable of taking care of himself in most situations, including the ones that might, just might, involve shacking up somewhere for a one night stand with an alarmingly handsome MFA grad student that he rescued from mortal peril.”

Holy Mother of Darkness, Jack. The tenebrous mass on the windowseat twitched uncontrollably for several seconds and Hanzo found that he couldn’t really blame it, because he was doing the same and blushing furiously and having to fight the urge to leap up and defend his honor at considerable and vituperative length. In what fucking universe is THAT a good outcome?

“This one, in which commitment and further emotional involvement-free gratitude sex is completely a thing that happens.” In tones of ruthless practicality and Hanzo found himself wishing he could just disappear or spontaneously combust or any option but hide behind the back of his rescuer’s couch and listen to this. “And, of all the things that could be keeping him away from home, I’m willing to lay that down as the least bad, okay?”

No it is NOT OKAY! The smoke monster howled wordlessly, its form shuddering, turning in on itself, coalescing into a significantly more human shape, albeit one with at least six extra pairs of eyes. “He’s vulnerable right now, Jack. They both are. He’d never be that irresponsible so soon after having to forge a connection that strong. What the Hell are you even thinking?”

“I’m thinking that you’re finally not broadcasting where is he where is he if he’s not dead when he walks through that door I’m going to kill him at everything with a functioning medulla oblongata for fifty miles square around this building.” Jack reached up and touched an in-ear communication device of some variety. “Ana? Yeah, don’t take the shot, I think he’s actually down off the ledge.”

“I cannot believe you,” The smoke monster glared with three fewer pairs of eyes. “Our son is missing and you’re -- “

“Our son just turned onto the far end of the drag, he’ll be here in ten minutes, max.” Jack smiled and Hanzo sank down below the level of the couch and, this time, he did pull the blankets over his head. “Seriously, I can only imagine what you’d be like if you actually gave birth to him.”

“Not. Funny.”

“Kinda funny.”

“No.”

The ranger’s vehicle glided to a nearly-silent halt outside and, summoning all his courage, Hanzo peered out from beneath the shield of blankets, trusting in the general depth of the cushions and the current paucity of natural light to assist in concealing his presence. Actual, physical keys jingled and actual, physical locks disengaged, the door creaked open with the sepulcheral moan he recalled from that first night not yet a week prior and the ranger stepped in, a cardboard pastry box tucked in the crook of one arm, looking several orders of magnitude wearier than he had -- how many hours before? It couldn’t have been that many, really -- and froze on his own doorstep, abruptly pinioned as he was between the smoke monster on one side and the Little League Commando on the other and Hanzo felt such immediate and complete sympathy for that impossible situation it was all he could do to hold still and silent.

“Jesse Nathaniel McCree,” the smoke monster said in the sort of smoothly menacing tone that promised quite a number of things and not a one of them pleasant, “where the actual fuck have you been?”

Jesse held out the pastry box. “And a good morning to you, too.”

Smoky the Horrible Tentacular Menace accepted the offering and glanced down at it. “What.”

“You like their flourless chili chocolate thingamabobs, right? I was in the neighborhood, so I figured I’d pick some up. Admittedly, I also figured I’d see you at your place, so my best laid plans are already put awry.” He shrugged out of his jacket, hung it on the pegboard, and kicked the door closed behind him. “Jack.”

“Kid,” And not even pretending to conceal his amusement, which Hanzo was willing to put down to some combination of extreme personal courage, decades-long interpersonal relationships, and quite possibly some form of not particularly well-sublimated deathwish. “Madre here’s been flipping and I’d appreciate it, if you’re going to be away from the nest for any length of time henceforth, that you not turn your cell off because there was nearly a murder. Possibly more than one. Coffee?”

“I would adore coffee.” Jesse offered the smoke monster the sort of smile that, properly deployed in a diplomatic context, could probably bring about world peace. “Come on, mamá, let’s have some breakfast and I’ll tell you all about it.”

The smoke monster took the sort of deep, cleansing breath which with Hanzo was personally familiar and murmured, “I see you two are intent upon forgetting that I fucking know where you sleep. Okay. Fine. Let’s eat, and while we’re eating you will describe in exquisite detail exactly where you’ve been for the last sixteen hours.”

“Frankly, my bet was down on shacked up in a No Tell Motel with the scorching grad student -- “

“OH MY GOD.” For the first time that day, Hanzo felt absolute vindication because the ranger -- his ranger, his perfect gentleman ranger -- sounded at least as appalled as he felt. “Jack.”

“Or I could be wrong.” Still palpably amused and Hanzo wondered silently which Hell one was sent to for deliberately tripping blind senior citizens as often as possible. “Incidentally, kid, you sound like fifteen miles of beat up donkey crap that’s also on fire so I can only imagine what you look like. Where’d the thingamabobs come from?”

“Sugarmama’s in Flagstaff. Arizona.” Gabriel, now sounding significantly less monstrous, growled; cutlery and plates rattled on the table a few arm-lengths away. “Which, if I recall correctly, is almost four hundred miles one way from here so I think an explanation is in order.”

Hanzo smelled and heard coffee being poured and someone taking a long, fortifying drink of the same. “After yesterday’s excitement, Hanzo wanted more than anything else to go home and, since I couldn’t really blame him for that, I drove him up to the city and dropped him off with instructions to call me if things were still off-kilter after a week or so.” A pause, as plates were passed and pastries distributed and more coffee consumed. “I...felt a little restless after I left him, so I took a drive to Mesa Urraca just to check on the ward boundary up there and, since I was still not feeling right when I got back, I decided it was time to walk the Red Zone perimeter.”

“The perimeter,” Jack, carefully neutral.

“Yup,” Jesse, the soul of insouciance.

“The perimeter which is over a thousand miles round trip, covers four states, innumerable liminal sub-boundaries, and is generally not left to one person to patrol alone for those reasons.” Gabriel, flatly, without a trace of actual question in his tone.

“Look, I’m not sayin’ I lolligagged around in any particular place. I just wanted to get a feel for how things might be changing out on the tracks. Something ain’t right and it’s getting less right all the time -- the fact that Hanzo nearly got snatched up within spitting distance of Tsé Bit’a’í is proof of that. A year ago nothing, no matter how strong it might be, would have dared. Could have dared, even.” A sigh. “Upshot is, the boundary there is unstable in a way that makes me think someone, or something, has been pushing to make it so.”

“You’re probably not wrong,” Gabriel admitted, ungrudgingly. “Fareeha came down from Los Alamos last night and brought some intel from her friend upstairs. Turns out, the experimental high energy science lab’s been detecting some unusually strong and coherent electromagnetic anomalies inside the boundaries of the Red Zone for the last ten weeks. They’re setting up a semi-permanent research station in the old Albuquerque International Sunport terminal complex.”

“Think I saw some of that going down. Security’s not amateur hour, I’ll give ‘em that.” It sounded as though he were fighting a desperate rearguard action against a yawn, one that failed spectacularly. “Could you top me off? Thank you kindly.”

“You’re welcome.” Jack again and, then, quietly, “How long has it been since you last slept?”

“I got a solid eight Friday into Saturday.” The sound of rapturous sipping. “You still make the best -- “

“You can’t keep this up, mijo.” Gabriel, his tone unusually gentle. “You’re not going to be any good to anyone if you grind yourself past the point of physical and mental exhaustion. You’re almost beyond the edge even now. Let us -- “

“Do what?” And the pure and perfect weariness in his voice twisted Hanzo’s heart. “Tie can’t be cut until his soul’s firmly reattached to where it’s supposed to be. I sent him back to his real life with Ana’s spirit-mending medicine to speed the process along as much as possible, but it’s not like it can be rushed. If I sleep now, while we’re still tied so close together, we’ll share a single dreamspace and that’ll pull him back here whether he wants to come or not.” Hanzo’s heart almost stopped, his breath caught and he knew, suddenly and absolutely, that only part of him was here and the rest was somewhere else, like it had been before. “It’s hard enough letting this one go as it is, so I would ask that you not invite me to make it harder.”

“Jesse,” And there was no disguising the shock, or the fear, in just that one word.

“It’d be one thing if he were only pretty on the outside. Easier, for one.” A pause, a quiet sigh, the tired smile visible in his voice when he next spoke. “But he’s beautiful all the way through and he was hurt before he got here, before this happened to him, and if I were going to guess? That’s what caught something’s eye -- that wound in his spirit, however it got made, and it’s going to keep being catnip for whatever’s out there. So it’s best that we all do what we have to do to keep him as far from here as possible and for me that means staying awake. All the awake.”

“That’s pretty crazy, kid.” Jack, dryly.

“If you’ve got a better idea, I’m willing to entertain it. Otherwise? Put on another pot of coffee.”

*