#thoughts of illun

[blog-of-illun]

You decide to rest for the night. There isn’t much around here in the way of shelter- just the same old hills of dry grass that you’ve been passing all day. Maybe you’ll push into that, find a patch tall enough to hide you from trail bandits. You, and your…

[yeehanfrf]

Week 17 Recs: Better Get Comfy

This week, the theme was "Better Get Comfy." I asked for fics between 25,000 and 50,000 words (or thereabouts). These are the fics that are just long enough to cuddle up with for a while!

Behind the cut, you'll find the fics gathered from the Yeehan community, organized by rating and then alphabetically by title.

General Audiences

The Sacred Heart of a Lost Sharpshooter by illune [54,037 words] Reccer comment: "when i tell you this fic in particular changed my life and the way i perceive yeehan... i feel like very few people understand both hanzo and cass as characters, but nestor just *gets it*"

Teen and Up

Discontinuity by SaltCore [25,469 words] Reccer comment: "That fic is so beautifully written!"

They tell him his name is Cole Cassidy. They tell him he’s a vigilante and a mercenary and a brave man and a good man. He supposes he’ll have to take their word for it. He can’t remember for himself.

Mature

Civic Duty by Liquid_Lyrium [40,256 words] Reccer comment: "a fun romp"

When Jesse McCree pulls jury duty—twice—for his writing personas, Hanzo will do whatever it takes to save the reputation of one of his favorite romance/erotica authors. Especially if it means that his favorite series on hiatus will return. The fact that he has feelings for McCree has nothing to do with his equations. Jesse and Hanzo will need to sort out fact and fiction between their accumulated identities.

Threads by CommonNonsense [49,230 words]

Despite being 38 years old, Hanzo has never met his soulmate. He's learned to ignore the red string on his left hand for the last ten years, knowing he is destined to remain alone as he atones for his mistakes. It is for the best. Jesse McCree, however, isn't one to take that lying down.

Explicit

A Losing Combination by manic_intent [42,402 words] Reccer comment: "one of my early favorites in this fandom"

“Do you know what you are here for?” Jesse scratched behind his ear, a little thrown. This, right here, was why Jesse fucking hated going undercover. Talk, talk, talk. Usually, Jesse got bored very quickly, and when Jesse got bored, his trigger finger tended to get itchy. Besides, they’d confiscated his goddamned gun. That was a downright depressing thing to do to a man, that was. “I’m here as hired muscle, yeah?” “Yes,” Hanzo said disdainfully. “‘Hired muscle’. What do you know about me?”

Against the Ropes by Ziane [39,147 words] Reccer comment: "hanzo gets a proposition of a lifetime"

When Jesse McCree met Hanzo Shimada, he never expected to fall so hard so fast. Despite the imminent fight that looms over him, he can only think about how would Hanzo feel under the sheets. In a last-minute impulse, McCree surprises the yakuza prince with a shameless proposition that leaves him stunned.

Boy Next Door by rebeccastceir [35,387 words]

“You know of course,” Hanzo said, “that at some point I am going to have to try to kill you, simply to appease my bosses.” “An’ you know at some point you an’ I are gonna be having lots and lots of sex,” Jesse replied. Hanzo nodded. A smile flickered across his lips. “At many points, if you are any good.”

Coyote Lovely by t_pock [WIP; 38,969 words] Reccer comment: "no way this one hasnt been recced a bajillion times but just for good measure (old name for cowboy and explicit)"

After a mission gone wrong, Hanzo and McCree must lie low in New Mexico for a week. Together.

decalcomanie by a8eja [23,574 words]

Hanzo has a knack for deluding himself and a penchant for will-they-won't-they bullshit.

Ichigo by morrezela [27,121 words]

They break up on a Wednesday

It's All Your Fault by Cadeykat [25,100 words]

Hanzo Shimada joins the ranks of Overwatch and finds that he quite likes teasing the resident cowboy. That is, until a single compliment ruins his thought process, and he has to deal with feelings he's not exactly well versed in.

Puppy Love by MarquesGillette [58,047 words]

Genji signs Hanzo up for a wolfmen/human speed date. Hanzo falls head over feet for a wolf well versed in weather trivia. -  Squinting at his brother, Hanzo mumbles, “I do not understand. What is a ‘furry?’”  Genji rubs a forefinger under his nose to hide his face-splitting grin. “Literally you."

Ride for the brand by Ziane [37,411 words] Reccer comment: "yakuza hanzo & bodyguard cass are a delicious combo"

Jesse McCree has been working as a bodyguard for the Shimada-gumi for the past two years. He's making a living and he has met Shimada Hanzo, a spoiled brat, his worst nightmare, and his most shameful wet dream.

The Ink Dark Moon by Miko [24,975 words]

Wolf youkai Hanzo has sought only solitude since the disastrous battle with his brother Genji, that resulted in the nekomata's death. Roaming the world, he finds himself settling in a remote area of what humans call the Wild West. It has everything he could ask for; a forest with abundant food, a local wolf pack who are willing to accept him as a friend and ally, and most of all, peace and quiet. Until a gravely injured coyote shifter stumbles almost into his lap, chased by a pack of vicious wolfman creatures. The last thing Jesse McCree ever expected was to find somewhere he wanted to call 'home' again. He's lost too many people that he cared about over the years, and he'd thought he was permanently gunshy. Hanzo is standoffish and arrogant, but Jesse can see there's so much more beneath the wolf's harsh surface. The more he learns of who Hanzo really is, the harder Jesse starts to fall. Problem is, Jesse may well be infected by the werewolf virus in the wake of the attack. And if that isn't enough to tear them apart, the truth of Hanzo's past might be, when Jesse finally discovers how the man is connected to his former packmate Genji. Is love enough to hold them together?

This World Can't Tear Us Apart by ChillieBean [27,894 words]

It was supposed to be a quick and easy surveillance mission. It was supposed to be just another mission. When a series of unexpected events bring Hanzo and Cole closer together, their hidden feelings for each other bubble to the surface.

to say that we're in love is dangerous by kettuluv [31,228 words]

Hanzo Shimada knelt for no man. He would never, ever waver in the presence of someone he deemed lower than him. Never would he bow, never would he get to his knees, never would he show any sign of weakness towards anyone. And yet… Here he sat, knelt in front of that ridiculous man who never stopped talking, who didn't know boundaries, who would've done anything to make someone smile, or laugh. The man who just cared so much. The man whose touch was soft but firm, eyes dark but warm, voice rough yet so full of love. Here he sat with his body trembling, his breath sharp and shaky, face flushed hot, in front of Jesse McCree, the only man he's ever knelt for. *** Letting himself fall for Jesse like this was dangerous for both of them, in more ways than one.

Unabashed by sciencefictioness [36,778 words] Reccer comment: "read it if you love scion - fuck it - read it if you love yeehan"

“Not that I ain’t happy about where this is going, but I’m a fuckin’ mess. You don’t want me wash up first? And I still ain’t got your name, beautiful.” Hanzo pulls the tie from his hair, letting it fall loose around his face and spill over his shoulders. Jesse slides a hand up his side and tangles his fingers in it, like he can’t quite help himself. Behind enemy lines, playing a perilous game, and still Jesse is losing himself, his world realigning with Hanzo at its center. Hanzo preens under the attention, powerful like he only ever is with someone underneath him. Begging, or bleeding, or calling his name.

Willing to Lie by Ilyen [WIP; 69,622 words] Reccer comment: "unfinished, but you know it's good when someone recs that regardless"

"It's Thanksgiving. Want to skip that long, insulting conversation about how you're still single? About how your parents really want more grandchildren? Well, look no further! I am a 28 year old felon with no high school degree and a dirty old van one year younger than me painted like Eddie Van Halen's guitar. I can play between the ages of 20 and 29 depending on if I shave. I'm a line cook and work late nights at a bar. If you'd like to have me as your strictly platonic date for Thanksgiving, but have me pretend to be in a very long or serious relationship with you, to torment your family, I'm game." -Jesse McCree probably A story 110% based on this craigslist ad - http://cdn.foodbeast.com/content/uploads/2014/11/craig.jpg

---

And that's it for Week 17! Thank you so much to everyone who submitted a rec.

If you find a fic you like, please be sure to let the author know you enjoyed it through comments or kudos!

Tune in for the Week 18 theme, "By the Numbers," for all those 5+1, 3+1, etc., fics.

In the meantime, you can also check out the Week 16 recs here, or check the full list of past and future themes here.

[eric-the-bmo]

King.

prince

{cw for possible ideation?}

He can't let Professor John put on the Mask. That was Theodore's only thought, the only drive in his core as he burst into his teacher's office to see him holding it in his hands, already convinced by the King's influence.

But Theodore isn't fast enough as he raises his hands in an attempt to telepathically pull the Mask out of his mentor's grasp. As the man raises it up to his face Theodore gets a horrible sense of deja vu- but Rabbit is fast enough, racing towards him and biting down on John's wrist with a mouth full of knives. Blood speckled across the floor.

The professor yelled as the mechanical creature broke through his skin, trying his best to shake it away and loosening his grip on the Mask. His student finally found celerity and dove forward, hands upon gold.

Theodore wrenched the King's Mask away from Professor John, and there it was again: that soft thrum in the metal, that ache in his hands and the feeling the Mask belonged there. And, of course, there was the voice; that pull upon his heart.

(Oh. Oh, he didn't think this through.)

...What excuse could he give his motley, when they inevitably ask him why?

Was it because the Mask felt like his, like it had always been his? Was it because there was the potential to have strength, to let go of all the rage that had been slowly building in his heart and crush his enemies, whoever they may be? To finally take charge for once? Or what about power, to force the world into a place that was more befitting of him. To make a world that was better and flawless, to make a world where he was better, and there were no mistakes. Underneath all the fear and moral obligation to save the world, Theodore was just tired. All these adventures that he thought could serve as a distraction were only adding to the stress, and then here was the King with all of its whispers. (He didn't want to die. He just wanted something better than this.)

All of these reasons swirled up within him; And despite knowing how awful the Illunous were, his willpower faltered.

It was enough time for his hands to move (He wished he could say they moved of their own accord. He's not sure if they did).

He locked eyes with Professor John for a fraction of a second as the Mask was being raised up; whether the man's eyes were filled of horror due to not being able to wear the Mask himself, or the knowledge that his student was making a horrible decision, Theodore couldn't tell. Did Theodore feel regret in that moment? Did he remember the words his teacher had told him the other day, telling him to never lose his shine? (Well; There was really no changing the outcome. Perhaps in another timeline, somewhere.)

The gold was strangely warm against his skin.

Theodore Carter fell into a dream.

[kits-shrine]

“I do,” Ingall nodded, grinning at her.

Emmy thought hard for a moment, “so that means it's not illu...illun...” she huffed, “il-lu-sion-ary magic, right? Is it more like the dragons, then? They all have different special magic because of the kind of dragon they are, and you guys are all different kinds of foxes, right? So is it like that?”

Reiko hummed at that while Shakko just looked intrigued "Ya like Spirit magic that much?"

Both kitsunes looked at her impressed at the young ones astuteness. Kuko finally answered "I do not know about your dragons, but it is a specialty of mine most likely due to my lineage."

Kit popped a bite into her mouth "Huh... honestly I thought it had to do more with your age." She looked over at Emmy before ruffling her hair "Again you are very clever sweetheart."

[firisle]

15 Questions

Thank you @thesimmonarchy for tagging me!

1. Are you named after anyone? Okay so yes, all my three names are named after someone so buckle up.

Julia; My mother told me this story of how she had this girl a year above her when she was 16, and one day this Julia stood up to the school bully, and since then my mother had decided to name her future daughter (me) that, because not only did she think it was a beautiful name, but also she hoped her daughter would become this no-shit taking woman (unfortunately she got a no-shit giving daughter). Sofia; I think it’s some great grandmother on my mother’s side I never met, but nevertheless I’m named after her. Karolina; On my father’s side all first born (which had until me been boys) had Karl as a middle name. My aunt who birthed my cousin four months before me thought to give a female version of Karl to her, but it didn’t quite work with her first name, so my father chose it instead.

2.  When was the last time you cried? Today when I was watching TV and a commercial for a petstore came up where a dog wasn’t welcomed anywhere and he sat in the rain crying, but then in the last scene he broke loose from his leash and ran into the petstore where he was finally welcomed. I was very tired, and I always have close to tears.

3.  Do you have kids? NOOOO

4.  Do you use sarcasm a lot? No, not ever.

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people? Their smile definetly. Or if they have popped a zit recently (you know when there is this like a little dried up blood and everything is red and irritated ??)

6.  What’s your eye colour? Green, but wearing some colours makes it look gray/blue, but me wearing green ?? No doubt my peeping globes are green.

7.  Scary movie or happy ending? Happy ending all the time.

8.  Any special talent? Not to took my own horn, but I’m great at remembring things, which means I’m a plethora of cocktail facts, and like actually useful (and hilarious) history facts.

9.  What country were you born in? Sweden.

10.  What are your hobbies? I like gaming, writing, reading, crafting; almost all “creative” activities there are, but has anyone really developed into a hobby? I’m not sure. Watching documentaries about different historical events is pretty fun and I usually try to find some good ones to watch with the family after dinner (which is a near impossible task).

11.  Do you have any pets? Indeed, my old boy Darby who is a Golden Retriver and deadbeat father to about 32.

12.  What sports do you play/have you played? I’ve danced (stopped because I didn’t get the dancing school’s merch, I was a brat), ridden horses (stopped because the stables were far away and dad was terrified), played volleyball and came second twice in the national tournaments (fuck you Vallentuna), but now I do absolutely nothing. Tried to start agility with Darby, but he blantly refused to listen to me and wanted to rather assert himself amongst the other dogs because he’s an asshole.

13.  How tall are you? 176 cm, 177 on a good day.

14.  Favourite subject(s) in school? History, Art and German. My pictures are even still hung in the art room three years after I graduated from compulsory school (which I know thanks to my brother who now goes there and is very embarressed).

15.  Dream job? Definitely something with youth. Whether it be teaching, psychology or juvenile rehabilitation. Before I was very set on becoming a psychologist, but now I’m beginnign to doubt that a litte...

I will definitely not tag 15 people, but I’ll try to tag (and annoy) as many as possible):

@illuner @maren-emilie​ @amessofsims @cheesehair @de-ginesia

[des-dabbles]

Meet Asher Grimm for @illuner Magdeleine Saha Bestselling Author| Athletic| Creative| Gloomy

More under the cut.

Asher has been around for many, many years. He’s always been considered the black sheep of the family. While his brother and sister would be happy if they never surfaced, Asher has always preferred to be on land. Ironic, huh?

The merman has spent his lifetime writing fantasy novels that are often more fact than fiction. He can’t help it that humans tend to want to believe them as make believe. He feels like he’ll be constantly writing THE novel since he has yet to write the book he feel is his masterpiece.

 Asher has been married twice, divorced once and currently a widower. He married young the first time. Both full of dreams with no idea on how hard life really could be. There were many contributors to their separation. Between constantly working, fighting over petty things and Asher’s bouts of gloominess, the two lost whatever love they had originally felt for each other. It was many years before Asher opened his heart again. Older and wiser, the second time around was all that he ever wanted. The two of them were together until she passed. That was 5 years ago.

He’s spent these last years secluded from everyone. Days spent writing or staying active. While not immortal, he still has many years before old age does him in. His late wife would not want him to continue to hide from the world and it was time to get back out there and socialize. 

Quick Facts:

never had any kids

favorite time of day is when the night is at it’s darkest

he like animals well enough, but he’s never had a pet

he loves a good thunderstorm. the darker the sky and the louder thunder, the more he enjoys it. his ex wife claims that it’s because a storm like that is his gloominess personified. 

he’ll eat just about anything. sweets are his weakness though

he enjoy swimming well enough, but would prefer to take a hike

he knows there are ways to no longer be a merman, but he’s never thought about being anything else. 

PRIVATE DOWNLOAD

[plumeriafairy14]

Apartment 2B, Chapter 5 Sneak Peek!

Aka, Keith takes Shiro’s four year old out for some ice cream and pizza after preschool (Shh, don’t tell Shiro. Keith’s got a cool uncle reputation to keep up). 

The drawing made Keith’s heart swell. It was him, it had to be; Airiah made sure to put a lot of effort in drawing his mullet and he was holding a squiggly red guitar. He also wore his usual red shirt, black jacket and ankle high biker boots. His beat up car was beside him but Airiah drew rocket boosters on them. 

But then he noticed something; he wasn’t smiling. The drawing’s mouth was just a straight line.

“Hey, how come I don’t look happy here?”

Airiah fell silent and she looked down to avoid Keith’s eyes. She fiddled with the edge of the napkin tucked behind her collar. “Well, it’s because you always look unhappy. I mean, you smile sometimes but you’re always, I dunno… uhm, you look blank.”

Empty.

“I’m…I’m sorry, Keef.” Airiah piped up and her voice quivered. “If you don’t like it, I can draw another one.”

Keith looked at her then back at the drawing. Then, he smiled and shook his head; “No, it looks great. And besides. cool guys don’t smile.” He winked at her and she smiled. “But next time, could you put sunglasses on me and a big awesome explosion at the back?”

“I can also draw you a girlfriend so you can be one billion percent cooler like those guys in the movies daddy watches.”

“Uh…”

“What’s wrong?” The four year old tilted her head in confusion.

“Well, honey,” Keith reached back to awkwardly scratch the back of his head. Fuck, how do you tell this to a kid? 

“Not all boys like girls. Some boys like boys while some girls like girls. Some like both and some don’t like any at all.”

Airiah fell silent while she processed the information. “Okay, Keef. So which one are you?”

“I like boys.”

“Oh, so when you get married, it’s gonna be to another boy, right? Just like Illun’s dads?”

“Yup.”

“Okay!” Airiah beamed. “Then, when you get married to your boyfriend then I will draw you two together with sunglasses and a really cool explosion!”

“Deal.” Keith smirked. Heck, Keith can’t imagine himself in that situation. Lotor was a friend with benefits; that was it.

Then, another name popped out followed by a face and those blue, blue eyes. Keith frowned and shook his head; no, he had his chance and he ruined it. He had no right to even consider that person after the bullshit did.

He doesn’t deserve Lance. 

“Finish up, baby girl, we gotta go home so you can rest up then do your homework.”

Airiah scowled. “I thought you were cool, Keef.”

[blog-of-illun]

A guy :)

[blog-of-illun]

She sat dipped in violet, drinking the moonlight. Her hands clutched the balcony railing like pins sunken into a cushion, and her too-small feet drifted lazily above the street six stories below. Her hair, streaming beyond the railing she sat upon, soaked up the grays of the night and tangled them into wilds; the breeze unfolded new kaleidoscope universes within it with every passing moment.

He saw her from the doorframe, then the balcony, then right beside her. He watched her for a moment, then followed her eyes to the stars. She’d opened her throat to them. He wasn’t sure whether she’d show him the same resignation.

So he spoke first: “Are you alright, love?” He wouldn’t get her true answer for a while, he knew, but he was good at playing detective with her excuses.

“I’m fine.” Her voice joined the breeze, soaring over the tumbled district below and out into the moon-kissed cape. A corner of his mouth flicked up.

“Is there anything more you’d like to add?”

“Something with the wine.”

“Hm?”

“There was something about the wine. You know how fickle my stomach can be.”

He rested his forearms on the railing, and slid a hand to trace over her needle fingers. They curled under his touch. In the night, his red skin looked maroon, and her purple was indigo. “Of course.” He let his hand slip up to her wrist, then to her forearm. The trailing bell sleeve of her nightgown tapped his fingers in a sort of chastisement. “We can have a different wine next time. I’ll find something from Adregious. Or maybe Blueford, to give you a taste of home.” He smiled. His hand was up to her elbow now, and he stepped behind her to line their shoulders up. Whenever she sat on the railing, she was about as tall as he was- a funny little miracle.

She didn’t resist, even as he put his arms around her waist, even as he knew that Blueford couldn’t really suit her as a home. She kept her eyes open and up, and her jaw together.

“I wonder if Odenna would have something for us. Well, something for me, but I’d bring it over to share.” He kissed her shoulder, his lips half-falling on the edge of the nightgown’s collar. He could feel her breaths lumber beneath his arms, and he closed his eyes to savor the sensation.

“We’ll share.”

He cracked an eye open- but still she didn’t look at him. So he laid his cheek on her shoulder, facing away, careful to not let his pointed horns snare her moonlight hair. He’d be content with silence for a while. They had always had that unique ability- they spoke often, of nothings and small things and sometimes bigger things, but it was their mutual silences that always seemed to draw them closer. They’d linger as long as it took- and if it wasn’t tonight, it’d be in a few days, or months, or seasons. He never minded the wait. She was smart enough to know when to speak- and they’d unravel it together, thread by thread.

She finally tossed the spool to his feet after the moon had turned to light her other cheek: “How old are you now, Cinder?”

His smile quirked, and he squeezed her torso against his chest. “Having second thoughts about interloping with a youngster? I’m in my thirties, Kitts. Thirty…” He pressed his lips together as he did some mental calculations. “Thirty-six. I assume.”

Her stomach pulsed in a laugh. “Thank you for your assumption, Cinder.”

“What, it’s not like you keep better track of yours.” He snorted, lifting his head with a grin. “I may outlive you in experience, but you will be visiting my unmarked grave centuries after I’m gone.”

“You aren’t going to be burned with the rest of these people?” She finally turned her eyes to his as he began to outline one of her long, pointed ears with his finger. She wore a closed-lip smile, but he didn’t miss the weight in her eyes.

“I haven’t decided. I figure I’ll leave it up to you.” She huffed through her nose and turned back to the stars. He dropped his hand from her elven ear.

“I’ll leave all my debts in your name, too.” She didn’t reply, so he put his arms back around her and softened his wry tone.

“I don't mind, Kyaris.” He lowered his chin and rested it on her bony shoulder. “There’s nothing to be done. I’m finite.”

“You could become a lich.” He blinked at the lack of play in her tone. “You could pray or make a pact. You could make a deal with some vampiric lord, exchange years of servitude for immortality.” He lifted his head and caught her profile- the sharp point of her tiny nose, the stubborn angle of her chin, the dullness of her eyes. “But aside from all that-“ She sighed as if letting something go. “You’re right, Blue Cinder. Nothing to be done.”

The creeping ice in her tone made his stomach curl. He moved his hands to her hips to maybe steady them both and took a breath to say something, but she went on: “You’re so small. A hundred years is childhood. A hundred years is blinking. An apprenticeship, maybe, depending on the career. A novice. Hardly anything.” Her feet brushed the street below with the force of a child kicking sand.

He palmed the points of her hips and waited, but she didn’t add any further insults. After a few beats, he let out a breath. “And they say it’s the high elves with the inflated egos.” He didn’t stop the sourness leaking into his tone, but he stood on tiptoe and kissed the top of her head to balance it out. “Have some respect for us mere mortals. Maybe there’s something to be said for finality.”

“Sure. Like the franticness. You all certainly know how to try.”

The stars had taken her again. Moonlight ran down the upturned curve of her nose like a dewdrop. He let a hand fall to the railing, dwarfing hers beside it. “Nothing to be done.” He put a little sing-song into the words. “I’m not unhappy with my time, Twyla.” The name pulled her from the heavens, and she fell back into his chest. “I’ve made my peace.”

She let out a slow breath, and closed her eyes. “Take me back to bed. Shut the curtains.”

“So many things for you, darling,” he murmured, and he gathered her into his arms and carried her back into the eternal twilight.

[blog-of-illun]

Very funny how so much of the Alzubran coast is just dried-grass hills

Like, the gods themselves make these two holy sites and they can put in any landscape around it that they want as a sign of their infinite power

And they choose Unharvested Hay Fields

[blog-of-illun]

Orden’s Beauties is having a preview night for their new menu!! They updated their cauldagrass soup recipe and I’m very excited to try it <3

[blog-of-illun]

Mmmm sunrise on Cape Partlaz my beloved <3

(so sleepy but also gotta spot that dawn)

Too cloudy to see Conrea today :((

[blog-of-illun]

Something about the Gourd tonight

[yeehanfrf]

Week 8 Recs: Middle of the Road

The Week 8 theme was "Middle of the Road," or those fics that are just long enough to spend some quality time with but not too long: 10,000 to 25,000 words. Behind the cut, you'll find the recs gathered from the Yeehan community, organized by rating and then alphabetically by title!

General Audiences

The Silences We Dare to Break by illune [15,500 words] Reccer comment: "This is an underrated gem that I feel not only Yeehan shippers but also Gabe Reyes enjoyers might like."

Once a year, Cole Cassidy is forced to face the fact that not all of his loved ones are resting peacefully in his memories. To his surprise Hanzo is willing to listen to his woes, if only for a brief moment.

Teen and Up

Autoclave by SaltCore [11,867 words] Reccer comment: "how much do you want your feelings hurt in under 12k words?"

Hard choices are a necessity in this line of work—Genji learned that years ago. But necessity doesn’t make those choices easier, especially when he has to watch someone else pay the price. He wants his brother and brother-in-arms in any state but dead, but it's a matter of Hanzo paying.

Blue Skies by helo572 [13,555 words]

A trip to Nepal sees Cassidy trying to keep him and an injured Hanzo safe when they are lost in the snow.

Mature

Foxhole Dreaming by fishpoets [18,569 words] Reccer comment: "some whump, lots of pining, and there was only! one! bed!!"

After Hanzo and McCree are ambushed on an undercover mission and McCree is injured, they need to hide out in a secret bunker that McCree knows of while they wait to be rescued. The prospect of a few days in close-quarters alone with McCree wouldn't be a problem, except for one thing: Hanzo's feelings for the gunslinger don't stop at friendship.

Frozen Doll by hunahuna_un [14,066 words]

"Hunger pulled Jesse towards the river, bringing him closer and closer to somethin' a whole lot tastier than fish. Though, as he'd immediately realize, it was a completely different kind of tasty."

Asked my partner for summary, hope you like it. xD

Story about Shapeshifter McCree & Winter Fae Hanzo.

Work of Fiction by sksNinja [12,609 words]

Hanzo Shimada is a reputable Japanese historian and a well known antique appraiser. He lives in finely decorated a single unit apartment. He keeps tabs on his unruly younger brother, and attempts to keep him in line.

Hanzo is a functioning and contributing member of society.

His weakness for Romance Novels is irrelevant.

Explicit

Crooked Stems by Interrobang [13,465 words] Reccer comment: "adorable and charming and, as he put it, 'the only strip club AU in which neither main character is actually a stripper,' lol."

Hanzo had made a life for himself, and quite frankly he was content with it. He was almost 40. He was tired from a youth spent in too many family meetings about too many political escapades. He just wanted to sit in a cold room with thousands of dollars’ worth of flowers and watch his florist business flourish.

He didn’t need anything shaking that up.

--

AKA the only Strip Club AU in the world in which neither of the main characters is actually a stripper. Featuring Chef Jesse McCree, Florist Hanzo, and too many innuendos.

A Man Is His Actions by etlagiapet [23,722 words] Reccer comment: "A cool take on Hanzo and Cole's first meeting! Uses the old name"

It’s been five months since Shimada Hanzo arrived at the Gibraltar base, and Jesse McCree still can’t look him in the eye without grimacing. He tries, because he promises Genji he will, but no matter how much he wishes he could forgive and forget, Jesse just can’t accept Hanzo and what he did to his own brother. He can’t tear the man away from his actions, no matter how different he is now and how long it’s been since.

Except there's more to Hanzo than Jesse realizes - more to the story of the Shimada brothers than he was privy to - and a reappearance of a mentor thought long dead throws everything Jesse thinks he knows about himself and what he believes in into chaos.

Nantaimori by ChillieBean [15,403 words] Reccer comment: "what's better than hanzo eating sushi off cass? (answer: nothing)"

It had been months in the making, and it was supposed to be a straightforward night: Be Hanzo Shimada's personal waiter, gather intel on a potential partnership with a neighbouring clan, get out without making any waves.

Cole's plans come to a crashing halt when he is asked instead to be the nantaimori—to lie naked for the duration of the meeting while Hanzo eats sushi off him.

Pine Woods by coinin [14,659 words] Reccer 1 comment: "a lovely funny fic about the duo hiding out in a curious cabin. Things get steamy, literally and figuratively."

Reccer 2 comment: "Whenever I read this, I just want to go on a winter vacation"

After a mission goes awry, Cassidy and Hanzo are forced to flee into the Finnish wilderness. Will they find shelter before they freeze to death? And more importantly, what are they going to do to stave off boredom if they do find safety?

Plan B by urgaylol [15,261 words]

Hanzo and McCree ask the age old question of "What the hell happened last night?"

Tell Me Yer Name by kylar [23,161 words] Reccer comment: "a smutty fic about blackwatch cass & yakuza hanzo"

Hanzo escapes the castle for a breath of fresh air following a particularly difficult day with the clan, and finds one in a mysterious, handsome American cowboy that instantly earns Hanzo's attention. Hanzo knows from subtle clues that his presence in Hanamura could mean trouble for his clan and himself, but that doesn't stop him from carrying on a secret affair with the charming cowboy. It's just a fling though, and he knows it will end eventually. He'll be able to put the cowboy behind him and continue on with his responsibilities and duties to the Shimada Clan. Little does he know, it won't be that easy, and the cowboy's short presence in his life will have a dramatic and devastating impact on everything that is to follow their little affair.

And that's a wrap on Week 8! Thank you so much to everyone who submitted a fic rec. Stay tuned for the Week 9 theme: "I'm Working, Here," or favorite works in progress!

In the meantime, you can also check out the Week 7 recs here or check the list of past and future themes here!

[eric-the-bmo]

Prince.

copper. pull/possession

The Illunous in front of them- a shaven man in all-black, spindling fingers like knives and coated in venom- rips himself free from the overgrown plant Ciara had restrained him with, and he bolts towards the window, hurtling himself out with the shattering glass- and two stories down, the parasitic diplomat is gone into the night.

(No. No, not now-)

And Theodore's gone now too, reduced to a blur as he races down the stairs after it, hastened by the Quicksilver cantrip he cast upon himself. Down the steps out the door and turn the corner and there he is, and there's no plants here in the city to grab him but oh, metal works just fine. And the sidewalk cracks as metal rises up, but his thoughts are too scattered now, really, because it's like a switch went off in his brain, and they don't grab him well enough, and the parasite trips.

He falls, and Theo hears his face break, a horrible horrible crunch of bone as he skids into the street, and the man is still. Theodore freezes in his tracks. There's a growing pool of blood, illuminated by the streetlights.

Oh, shit. He killed it.

That's not what he wanted at all.

"…FUCK!" There's a dead body now, and that's not good, that's not what he meant to do, he wanted to talk to it- and he should maybe be more concerned by this murder, and he can't even take its mask because it merged with the flesh already and he wants to throw his fucking hammer- but in the midst of his frustration he pauses, one hand in the middle of angrily running through his hair. He pauses, because the pool of blood is shrinking.

The young man watches as the Illunous's body heals itself- [and that's new, isn't it?]- and as its face is slowly rebuilding, rebar rises up from underneath the cracking city streets to ensnare him, courtesy of the Nocker once again casting his magicks. He's more careful now- the metal twists and bends around its arms and legs, tying him down to the asphalt.

The Illunous raises his head to look at his captor, face still ruined with blood and still-exposed bone. "I just wanted to talk," he murmurs hoarsely. "I'm not a warrior… Just an emissary."

The changeling wordlessly takes a step into the street and kneels down to get a better look at the parasite; Theodore's grown used to violence now, after all the visions and nightmares. "We can still do that," he says with a level voice. His hammer is still in his hands. (From this angle, his eyes catch the glow of the golden streetlights.)

It doesn't break eye contact. "I see you have questions, fae child." It takes a shuddering breath. "And I can sense… the presence of my King."

His captor is silent; things are clicking into place. The Illunous continues.

"You know, little changeling… You can be our new King. All you need to do… Is put on the mask."