((*kicks down the door after realizing they haven’t posted an update in over two weeks* HOLY FRICK SORRY ABOUT THAT.
Anyway, I’m still dealing with work and school and health issues, so I haven’t really written anything new and my muse for writing is pretty off and on currently.
I do have a draft of the plot post for King Mallew reforming done, might polish it up and post it here decentlyyyyyyy soon.
Hope you all are doing well and see you when things get a bit less hectic around here. If you need/want to reach me, you can message me and ask for my skype or find me on my main, http://trineunbounded.tumblr.com/ , thank you.
I’m pretty busy currently due to getting settled in at my new job, I went through another orientation this week (this time for my grad program), and I’m fighting off some health issues that have had me pretty out of it physically recently.
I’ll be getting back to things here when I’m feeling better/I’m a little more used to/trained at my new job, so until then stay awesome dears.))
The Australian woman popped up, a wide grin on her face. Shimada Castle was her next goal in conquering. Another kingdom that seemed to threaten her own? Well she’ll pillage it of course! Even through her delusions she knew how to find contacts, and all her research pointed towards the Shimada’s ex-heir. Hanzo Shimada. With no information on him except his name, the girl popped around looking for a man in his late thirties.
He would be her key to taking down the Shimadas, perhaps maybe she’ll take control of the castle and bend them to her will.
Having someone suddenly approach him was never to Hanzo's liking: he wouldn't go so far as to call himself paranoid, but he'd been in enough fights and had had enough assassins sent after him that even a child, like this, made him uneasy.
He looked her over, dark eyes focused, picking up on as many details as he could in the few seconds between acknowledging her and speaking: tattered clothes, on eye hidden behind bandages, smudges and grime, mostly oil and ash, he'd guess, clinging to her body in places, that accent...
Hmph, if she really was a Junker, he did not want to speak with her, but she seemed harmless enough, the man assuming she was injured, fatigued, judging by those bandages and her appearence...
He should know better by now not to assume things.
"Yes. Who are you? How do you know my name?"
No politeness, no propriety. He had already concluded that he had the leverage in this situation, and he was gonna use it. He felt he had room to be aggressive, be demanding, that he was in control of the situation...
It was quite clear from that assumption alone that he hadn't dealt with Junkers before.
Ey, y’all have something in common with me, we LOVE Halloween. So, you are invited to my awesome costume party. I just know the PERFECT watchpoint to do the party. It’s all spooky and dark. I know y’all will love it. My number will be down of this for any questions, I will attach the location later ;))
# xxxx-xxxx
( October 29. 6:00 PM. Pacific Time to the END of October 31. )
&&. Now, for the ooc message.
As the mun, I shall inform you, this is a OVERWATCH WIDE EVENT, meaning that anyone from Overwatch RP Community can be part of it. ( OC are welcome. ) There can threads, art or memes. ANYTHING with Halloween theme for these 3 days. Can be parties, going for candy, or even MONSTERS themes. And if you are part of it, make sure to tag it as Jesse’s Spooky Party 2k16 .
Reblog this and you will be part of it!
You may send me any questions, or actually send questions to McCree.
Hoo boy, so, anyone who knows me knows that when I get into a new ship, my first instinct is to write some crappy gt/size difference stuff involving it, so here goes nothing.
Premise for this is that Winston was working on a weird new weapon and it malfunctions, resulting in Jesse being shrunken down to about 6 inches tall or so. Then Hanzo finds him, takes care of him, and brings him back to the lab to get him back to normal.
Have a thing. (Also this is my first time writing for Winston and Tracer ever, so apologies if they're ooc or anything hhhhh) ))
Hanzo stepped into McCree's room, peering about with utmost attention and focus.
Jesse had stopped responding to his messages about 5 minutes ago, and considering that the sharpshooter was more likely to die than not respond to a new text instantly, Hanzo was more than a little concerned.
He carefully strode around the room, trying not to disturb or move anything and thus lose an important clue or piece of evidence to his boyfriend's whereabouts, the archer already dreading the worst: McCree's bedsheets were disturbed, pushed and pulled around in such a manner as to denote him being startled by something, then moving towards the door...
A door which had been shut when he had approached.
"..."
He wasn't in the closer or under the bed, the window was shut and locked, and the AC vents were undisturbed, as far as he could tell.
Doing one more quick scan around the room, certain now there were no assassins or kidnappers lying in wait, Hanzo called out for his boyfriend:
"...Jesse?"
Watching the entire room for movement and keeping silent, listening carefully, he was not prepared for the tiny, humanoid figure that stepped out from behind Jesse's bedside table, waving up at him, a small, frightened voice greeting him:
"H-Howdy, pardner..."
---
It was a good day so far, Jesse thought.
He'd gotten a good night's sleep, didn't have much to do, and was feeling fine and healthy, a blessing after the many missions they had had this week.
The only thing that would make it better was if his bae was here.
[So how long are you gonna be again?]
{McCree, I'm trying to train.}
[Ooooooh you're mad. I can tell.]
{What?}
[You only call me McCree when you're mad at me.]
{Jesse, I'm trying to train.}
Jesse chuckled: even over text Hanzo was as sharp as a tack. He knew ol' cranky dragon butt was busy doing his daily training, honing his skills and all that...but, to be honest, he was just feeling snuggly and would much prefer to have Hanzo here with him.
Maybe he should take him out to dinner somewhere nice tonight, or something like that. They had been so busy, bruised and beaten, and now that they were finally rested and healed up...
He thought they deserved a nice little break from the action, to enjoy life a little, even if only for one night.
[Alright, alright.]
[By the way does Italian food sound good for dinner?]
[There's this nice place downtown and I figure you and I deserve a little break Han.]
[You ever had Italian food before?]
Jesse twidled his thumbs as Hanzo took a few minutes to reply.
{No, I haven't had Italian food before. As for a break with you, that sounds nice.]
[Heh, great.]
[And you've had pasta before, right? There's some of that, but way better and
McCree stopped typing for a second, feeling a bit...nauseous, all of a sudden. Soon after, a bright light flashed, filling his vision. He groaned, a pounding headache making it even worse: had one of his flashbangs gone off by accident or something?
He struggled to get off the bed, sheets tangling him up, feeling weirdly heavy, thicker than before-
"OOF!"
He fell off the bed, the drop actually hurting quite a bit, lasting too long and-
What.
WHAT.
"What the ever-loving FUCK."
McCree looked up at the bed, which was already twice his height and getting taller.
Quickly grasping the situation, he attempted to scramble back up the bed to his phone, now buried under the displaced sheets...but with the lingering nausea and headache he had he fell right back off again.
"Ughhhhhh..."
Jesse stood back up, pacing a little, attempting to shake off his nausea and come up with a plan, the man getting more and more nervous as he stared up at the room around him, everything towering over him...
He didn't wanna admit it, but this situation was VERY jarring...not to mention a bit scary.
Gathering his thoughts, he tried a few more times to scale some of the furniture and get to his phone to no avail, Jesse getting pretty fed up with all of this when-
When the door suddenly swung open.
He ducked behind the leg of his bedside table, expecting the worst: had Talon come up with some sort of shrink ray thingy and they were here for him and the others? Shit, his gun wasn't going to pack much of a punch at this scale, and neither was he for that matter...
He dared a glance out from behind his hiding spot, peering up to see-
Hanzo!
The archer was suitably determined-looking and stern, but Jesse knew that look anywhere, could see the obvious concern and worry in his gaze as he strode around the room, Jesse more than a little freaked out by how each footfall of a man he usually stood quite a bit taller than shook the ground beneath him.
As Hanzo began peering under the bed, looking in the closet, getting more and more concerned, Jesse quickly realized that, if he didn't make a move, Hanzo might leave and he'd be stuck out here, on his own looking for help.
Yea, no, that was not happening.
Hearing Hanzo call his name, Jesse stepped out from behind the tableleg, waving up at his towering lover, greeting him somewhat shakily:
"H-Howdy pardner..."
---
Hanzo stared down at the tiny man, unblinking, with that same stern expression as always...
But as he dropped down onto his stomach, looking his shrunken lover over, the warmth hidden in those dark irises came through, a relieved sigh escaping his lungs as he spoke:
"Ah, Jesse. You're okay..."
McCree stepped out towards him further, marveling a little at the situation: sure, he'd gotten up close and personal with Hanzo's face many times before, but to be fully standing and have this perspective...
It was surreal, and although he was pretty freaked out by the situation still...
He was just relieved to have Hanzo here.
"I don't think this really counts as 'okay', Han."
"...mhmm," Hanzo conceded, "true. What happened?"
Jesse shrugged.
"No idea, was textin' ya' and all the sudden I got sick to my stomach, saw a light...next thing I know I'm down here."
Hanzo was quiet again, staring at McCree before slowly nodding.
"Uh-huh..."
"Did you see anyone else on the way up here like this?"
"No. I passed a few of the others, but they looked fine."
"Ughhhhhh..."
Great, so he was alone in being stuck like this, presumably. Well, this sucked.
"You said you were feeling nauseous, right? Maybe we should go to the med bay and-"
Hanzo went quiet as McCree sighed annoyedly at the situation and collapsed forward, leaning against Hanzo's face.
"Yea, I guess...I dunno. Like, I was having a good day and I had things planned out for tonight, and now we have to deal with this, y'know?"
Jesse's body was moved around a little as Hanzo chuckled and spoke, the sharpshooter a little disoriented by how loud Hanzo's words were and how his voice reverberated through him:
"You're smaller than my hand, and you're worried about going out to dinner?"
"...yea."
He stared dead into Hanzo's eyes with utmost seriousness, getting another chuckle out of the archer.
"I love you, Jesse."
Well, that got him to blush a little: Hanzo was always so cute when he laughed and got all lovey-dovey, even like this.
"Let's get you to the med bay."
Hanzo slowly moved back and sat up, Jesse stepping back himself, quickly reminded how much larger his lover really was right now.
God this was weird.
Hanzo extended his hand, offering Jesse his open palm.
"I'll carry you."
"This is weird," Jesse commented as he stepped up onto Hanzo's hand, "like you would not BELIEVE how weird this is."
Hanzo rose an eyebrow and gave a reassuring nod, keeping his focus on McCree as the tiny man shifted around.
He moved his hand slightly here and there, trying to get Jesse comfortable...eventually settling with his fingers wrapped around him gently, McCree promptly hugging a few of his fingers close and resting his head against the one nearest to his head.
"Are you sure you're comfy like that?"
"Uhuh..." Jesse said, trailing off and closing his eyes, trying to make the situation less frightening.
"Happy you're here for me, Han."
Hanzo smiled sweetly down at his tiny lover, quite amused by how he was clinging to his fingers like that...as well as a little concerned for him, obviously.
"Happy to have you in my life, Jesse."
Hanzo kept his hand close to his chest, occasionally glancing down at Jesse, who seemed suprisingly content and comfortable in his grasp once they got going, even bracing himself against his fingers then leaning against Hanzo's chest a little.
Hanzo sighed sympathetically. He supposed Jesse had gotten his wish, weird, scary situation or no: they were spending some time together today, after all.
---
Well, the med bay hadn't been much help: loving and supportive though she was, Angela did not know anything about how to treat something like this...but she had a suspicion as to who would.
"Oh! Hello Hanzo, how are you doing, love?" Lena chirped, hopping down from the rafters of the research lab as the archer entered.
"I am well, Miss Oxton. Is Winston present?"
"Winston? Oh, yea, he's in the back: let me go get hi-"
The woman was backing up, about to turn and run off to get the big ape when she spotted what Hanzo was holding.
Her eyes went WIDE.
"Jesse?!"
The tiny man opened his eyes, blinking a little in suprise before he rose a hand, waving lazily up at her.
"Howdy, Lena."
Her expression went from open-mouthed suprise to a bright smile...just before darting off deeper into the research room.
"Winston! WIIIIINSTON! IT WORKED!"
As they waited for Lena and Winston to come their way, Hanzo looked down at Jesse, gently adjusting his hand again now that Jesse was active and moving a bit.
"Are you alright? She was yelling pretty loud..."
McCree just waved his hand dismissively.
"Eh, I've had worse. She's just energetic, Hanzo, don't take it personal."
"I'm not, I was just worried she was scaring you."
"Lena, scary?" Jesse chuckled, "Only if we had to fight her. Chill, Han."
The archer looked back up as Lena came bounding over, Winston just behind her.
"Is he stable?" the scientist asked, Hanzo stepping over to him.
"I don't know? Maybe you should ask him."
Winston adjusted his glasses, looking down at the shrunken man.
"Jesse, how are you holding up?"
The sharpshooter shrugged, leaning into Hanzo's fingers again.
"Okay, I guess? A bit dizzy and got a headache...you can get me back to normal, right?"
Winston was quiet for a moment in thought, then responded with a sharp nod: "yes, of course."
He stepped away, motioning for Hanzo and Lena to follow, explaining as he cleared some things off of a table:
"I was working on a way to subdue larger targets, a mass displacer with a stunning effect, meant to reduce foes to roughly a fourth of their usual size and mass and prevent them from moving until they could be captured or eliminated...I see the stunning portion worked partially, inducing nausea, and the mass/size reduction worked TOO well, not to mention that it went way off target during testing, firing up into your room for some reason, Jesse..."
Hanzo watched as Winston rolled a large piece of machinery over to the table, adjusting dials and panels and such as he got it recalibrated, continuing to talk a lot of technological jargon that kind of lost Hanzo halfway through.
Lena leaned against the table, standing next to the archer, turning and chatting with him a bit as Winston got things set up.
"So Hanzo, or, um, should I call you Mister Shimada? Mister Shimada, have you, uh, taken advantage of the situation while Jesse's stuck like this at all?"
That made Hanzo and Jesse both tense up, staring at her in confusion.
"What?"
"C'mon Mister Shimada: you could totally rub it in that you're taller than him for once! Or, like, have him ride on your shoulder...did you kiss him yet?"
"What?!"
Okay, that got Jesse to chuckle a bit, noting the blush on his big bae's cheeks. Hanzo never can handle people talking about his romantic life in public, even when it was over something as innocent as a kiss.
"C'mon," Lena continued with a wink, "it'd be cute!"
She gave an encouraging little smile before being going over to help Winston, enjoying how flustered Hanzo was getting over her suggestion.
Despite being such a serious, stern assassin, he really was a big softie when it came to his boyfriend.
"...Jesse?" Hanzo asked, bringing his hand up towards his face, slowly and carefully, "does that...sound like something you'd want to try?"
Jesse smiled, gently pushing Hanzo's fingers off from around him a little, beckoning up to him once he was free.
"C'mon Hanzo, gimme a smooch, you big cutie."
Hanzo was still for a moment, then leaned his head in...and although it wasn't the most graceful or pleasant kiss, Jesse couldn't help but blush.
Even with their ridiculous size difference, Hanzo still managed to be real sweet and quite gentle with his smooch. God he loved this man.
"N-Not to interrupt," Winston interjected, "but I think I have everything set up."
Jesse leaned back into Hanzo's hand, the archer quickly forcing himself to regain his composure as he walked over, placing Jesse down onto the table where Winston pointed.
"Alright," the scientist explained, getting the machine pointed down and aimed at McCree, "I believe this should work. Hold still, Jesse."
The tiny man gave a thumbs-up as Hanzo, Lena, and Winston stepped back, the machine roaring to life-
Another bright light went off Jesse's face and another wave of nausea hit him, although this time he knew better than to try and move...
That didn't stop him from hearing something break against the floor and feeling something press up, sharply, into his back, the sharpshooter opening his eyes groggily a few moments later, groaning.
He locked eyes with the other three heroes, noting that his line of vision seemed to be back at their eye level, but...
Upside-down?
"What?"
He went to move, feeling whatever was pressed up against his back suddenly wobble, then give out from underneath him, Jesse going to sit up only to hear the others cry out and-
He whacked his head off of the rafters, making the entire room shake.
"Owwww..."
He grabbed his face, noting the pain across his forehead and attempting to shake it off before repositioning himself, leaning back on his arms, and looking down.
His legs pretty much reached the back wall of the room, his head brushing the rafters, and, judging from the height of the others as they came running around to his side, he had only one conclusion to make:
"Winston, I think ya' might've overshot it a bit."
"Y-Yes, I believe I have."
The scientist rested a hand on Jesse's leg, staring up at him in earnest.
"I'm so sorry Jesse. I think I'm going to scrap this project once I get you back to normal. It's clearly unstable."
McCree just smiled sympathetically and assured him:
"No need to apologize, I'm just happy to be in one piece."
Winston smiled apologetically and motioned for Lena to follow him, the two pushing the machine into the back of the room to make some changes as Hanzo stepped forward, leaning against McCree's leg.
He smiled down at him, quite amused by the situation: he supposed this was how Hanzo must have felt just a little while ago.
He looked freaking adorable down there.
"You okay Han?" he asked, careful to keep his voice down, "I didn't freak you out or anything, did I?"
"No," he replied nonchalantly, "I'm used to you being taller than me, so this is no different as far as I'm concerned."
McCree chuckled at that: typical Hanzo, calm, collected, and still able to crack jokes when he wanted to.
"Well, I do hope this doesn't last too long: can't imagine going to dinner like this...or anything else for that matter," Jesse reasoned, holding up his hand and counting off his problems, one finger at a time, trying to lighten the mood:
"Can't go on missions, they'd see me coming from a mile away, can't snuggle you because I'd just squish you..."
Hanzo rested against Jesse's leg, listening to him talk, looking him up and down...then, after a moment of brief hesitation, carefully and cautiously climbed up onto his leg, making his way up to sit on his chest, Jesse letting out a suprised little squeak (well, little by his standards: everyone in the room heard it).
Hanzo spoke to his looming boyfriend, quite matter-of-factly:
"Well, we don't have any missions currently, I have more than a little confidence in the fact that we'd figure snuggling out, and as for dinner...we can get carryout. My treat, if you want."
A soft, loving smile crossed Jesse's face.
"Heh, seems like you've already got it planned out, huh?"
He chuckled, his smile getting wider.
"I love you, Han."
He didn't even realize what he was doing until he saw Hanzo flinch back suddenly, Jesse immediately stopping his hand still, pulling it back away from Hanzo, apologizing profusely:
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I-I didn't mean to...wa-wasn't thinkin'..."
He looked away from his lover, scolding himself internally. C'mon Jesse, be more careful, you could legitimately hurt someone like this...
The sharpshooter was quite suprised as Hanzo moved, swiftly climbing up to his face, planting a kiss right on his lips.
"I love you too, Jesse."
Oh boy, did that ever get him blushing, Hanzo chuckling as the cowboy tilted his head down, burying it into his scarf, trying to hide his face.
Hanzo relaxed, suprisingly content with the current situation: sure, Jesse could be a bit impulsive, and sometimes worried about minor things, like dinner tonight, despite everything he'd been through today...
But in the end, he was a big sweetheart, and always knew how to make him smile.
"Start thinking about what you want for dinner, Jesse."
The giant man nodded, still not lifting his head out of his scarf, Hanzo chuckling and lying on his back on top of Jesse's chest, closing his eyes.
He had been quite busy recently, filling all his downtime with training and other serious business...maybe he was right...
Maybe him and Jesse really did deserve some time off to relax together.
Still that smirk and just as confident as ever, comparing his lack of familiarity with the area to Hanzo’s fatigue, hardly a fair comparison in Hanzo’s mind but that was neither here nor there…and as much as he hated to admit it, whatever name the man gave would, in fact, be pointless.
And now this guy was saying that he was “tricky to keep track of,” implying he’d been on his radar for a while.
One more response and Hanzo finally had some decent information: his name was Reyes, he was on Overwatch, had a personal interest in him as well as a general interest on what he might know about Shimada-related matters…and he could tell how bad a shape he was in.
Although his mind was moving slower than it usually did, Hanzo weighed his options and leverage in the current situation with care, coming to a conclusion quickly: he’d play along, see where it got him.
“Pleasure to meet you, Reyes of Overwatch,” Hanzo said, bowing his head for a moment before continuing.
“If you’re looking for information I doubt there’s much I can give: I don’t deal with the Shimada clan often, and who knows what has changed internally since I left. You might know more than I do, actually.”
A bluff, to see how he reacts: if Reyes insists on recent information it’d denote that he hasn’t been following him as close as he thought. If Reyes insists on older information, he, and by extension, Overwatch, are probably looking for Shimada clan secrets, in which case Hanzo would be quite selective about what information he’d give, if any.
The last thing the world needed was some group of hoity-toity heroes running around with knowledge on the dragons or something like that…but if it was, say, the location of one of the older Shimada strongholds or similar he might bite.
Petty revenge again, perhaps, but if it got him out of here alive…
“And what did I do to catch your personal interest?”
His tone was almost playful, bemused, like an office worker who had just been caught stealing someone’s lunch out of the community fridge. He expected some answer along the lines of a comrade of Reyes’ he’d killed, or that Reyes was looking for a challenging fight, or for the bragging rights that come from killing a high-ranking Shimada, answers that were always given by people who claimed to have “personal” business with Hanzo. It sure would be funny to see yet another person slide up to the plate with yet another cliche motivation to get up in his face, especially if they happened to come from Overwatch.
He kept his bow trained on Reyes, an inquisitive eyebrow raised.
Let the game of cat and mouse begin…and may he get out of this round alive.
“Possibly, possibly not. They haven’t fucked up so much you can’t make a dive for breaking in each year without any problems since your little leave of absence and always to one spot, doncha?” The sneer is hardly subtle.
“And hell, while I know your former heritage ain’t all that appreciated out the country, legally pretty untouchable so ain’t shit can do right? Not my area anyway, different expertise. Just background fluff ta me but interesting all the same.”
His posture remains firm, hands still by his head though slowly that gesture appears to be openly baiting for Hanzo to try if anything… Or the tiredness could be talking and making his non nonchalance worse than it appears. Reyes is the type to merrily play to assumptions for his own gain.
“Personal ain’t my story to tell, Shimada. You’ll find out on your own accord at some point. I look forward to hearin’ the result.”
A simple shrug is all that follows. There is clearly a touch of venom to his words but the anger is being surprisingly well restrained behind a face barely letting it bubble past the confident air Reyes is giving off.
“Still surprised took this long to notice being tailed… I ain’t able to ping up and down walls or ‘ross rooftops and yet nothing. I know I’m not that good, trying to make me feel better about it? No harm in laying the blame on running yourself ragged taking potshots at targets if you want instead, Shimada, won’t hear me complain.”
Hardly stopping him taking shots even though these are not the literal kind though.
It was hardly the most covert news, really: the Shimada clan knew well who broke in every year on that one night, it was discussed openly amongst some of them, especially those who survived his little break-ins, year in, year out...
He disliked that someone from Overwatch knew, though. Sure, they had much bigger fish than him to fry, but if they ever wanted to kill two birds with one stone, wait for him to invade the castle then swoop in right after him while the guards were incapacitated...
"..."
The last thing he needed were those guys getting a hard hit against the clan and then potentially thanking or crediting him for their success, next thing you know they might come hunting for him, try to recruit him...or use their leverage to get some information out of him.
He wasn't about to get tangled up in all of that: his priorities were elsewhere, and that's where he wanted them to stay.
"So, whoever has a personal problem with me isn't even brave even to come after me themselves: shameful."
Hmph, so Reyes had a personal interest based on someone else's story about him...now, who would have a beef with him in Overwatch (or, at least, know someone from Overwatch) but not come after him himself? Had to be someone high-ranking, or perhaps were unable to or not permitted to hunt him down...
He didn't like the sound of any of that, at all.
And now Reyes was insulting his lack of attention: that made a scowl cross the archer's face, not only because Reyes was mocking his usually sharp attention...
But also because he was right: he was run down pretty bad, and did NOT want to be reminded of that fact.
"I don't take 'potshots' Reyes...but any man is liable to tire when his work is so intensive. I'm sure you know the feeling."
Ever polite, fair, reasonable.
He'd try getting information with honey first...
"Any way I can convince you to divulge anything about this mystery person? I don't enjoy having some stranger and their personal problem with me hanging over my head, I'm sure you understand."
Even now, he was hedging his bets: he was keeping things calm, polite for now, but knew he couldn't keep it up much longer: he'd have to make a decision pretty soon whether to fight or flee.
Thankfully, he thought, tightening his grip on his bow slightly, feeling the muscles of his left arm tighten up...
He wasn't alone when such a decision needed be made.
The archer opened his eyes, breaking his meditation as the unfamiliar voice drifted through the air.
“…who is asking?”
One didn’t even need to ask to see how he was doing: his eyes were dull, half-closed, his back slightly hunched as he sat in meditation, a few bandages on his exposed arm…
Seems he had completed a job today and got into a bit of a scuffle during it.
Hopefully he’d get some decent rest tonight and sleep his injuries off…not that they were all that bad, anyway.
Hanzo was slightly relieved by the man’s lifted arms, his open hands…
But that smirk, quickly followed by that snarky reply shot his mood straight back down, not to mention the confidence with which this stranger stepped forward, the way he was holding himself…
This is a man unafraid to kill.
“If you were in my position, you wouldn’t be calm either.”
He kept his bow trained on the stranger, less out of aggression and more as a potential warning, a deterrence: regardless of what weapon this man might draw on him, Hanzo could at least get an arrow through his neck or into his stomach in time, something to make him bleed, suffer…
His stern gaze faltered for a moment at that thought, the sharp focus of his eyes seeming to waver, the slightest tremor travelling up his arm: was he truly thinking about killing more, tonight?
He was tired, tired and frustrated: he had attacked another Shimada-controlled outpost tonight, and although the pay was good and the job offered no small amount of catharsis, of slight, perhaps even petty revenge against the clan…it was never easy killing people he once was set to lead.
He shouldn’t have taken the job at all, really, considering the time of year and his current mental state: it was almost time to return to Shimada Castle to leave his offering, and the restless nights he had been having as of late were no help…
Hindsight is 20/20 though, and regardless of why he was in this situation now, he intended to survive and look back on this encounter as a lesson learned…and then find somewhere safe to sleep (or, more appropriately, TRY to sleep) for a couple of days.
“Who are you?”
His tone was as serious as always, but his expression had softened ever-so-slightly after he had come out of his thoughts: he looked almost expectant now, welcoming to new information from a stranger he didn’t want to kill…
“Well I ain’t even on my own continent right now so lets call us even, yeah? Being on edge is understandable in these circumstances,” he states simply with smirk intact.
For only the briefest of seconds, his eyes glance to the circles under his eyes, the distraction of expression leading to a calculating expression on his own before it is gone as quickly as it appeared.
“’pends whose asking and how generous I feel. I could tell you the truth OR a complete lie and you’d not be able to tell either way, right? But I know exactly who you are, Shimada. You seem to pop up and down on the radar at random, real tricky to keep track of.”
The tone is testing, poking, just seeing if there will be any reaction without any real vinegar behind it. His stance is remaining one keeping as watchful on the hand drawing the bow as much as any other sounds about them.
“But seeing as doubt heard my name and pays to be polite what the hell. Name’s Reyes, part of Overwatch. Looking into you is more personal interest though as much as seeing what your former inheritance is useful info for on high. And right now ya looking more than a bit rough round the edges.”
His hands remain where they are. Either he’s extremely confident he can duck an arrow at this range or he’s stupid enough to doubt Hanzo will attempt to fire. This is a man happy to play a rather dangerous game body armour or not.
Still that smirk and just as confident as ever, comparing his lack of familiarity with the area to Hanzo's fatigue, hardly a fair comparison in Hanzo's mind but that was neither here nor there...and as much as he hated to admit it, whatever name the man gave would, in fact, be pointless.
And now this guy was saying that he was "tricky to keep track of," implying he'd been on his radar for a while.
One more response and Hanzo finally had some decent information: his name was Reyes, he was on Overwatch, had a personal interest in him as well as a general interest on what he might know about Shimada-related matters...and he could tell how bad a shape he was in.
Although his mind was moving slower than it usually did, Hanzo weighed his options and leverage in the current situation with care, coming to a conclusion quickly: he'd play along, see where it got him.
"Pleasure to meet you, Reyes of Overwatch," Hanzo said, bowing his head for a moment before continuing.
"If you're looking for information I doubt there's much I can give: I don't deal with the Shimada clan often, and who knows what has changed internally since I left. You might know more than I do, actually."
A bluff, to see how he reacts: if Reyes insists on recent information it'd denote that he hasn't been following him as close as he thought. If Reyes insists on older information, he, and by extension, Overwatch, are probably looking for Shimada clan secrets, in which case Hanzo would be quite selective about what information he'd give, if any.
The last thing the world needed was some group of hoity-toity heroes running around with knowledge on the dragons or something like that...but if it was, say, the location of one of the older Shimada strongholds or similar he might bite.
Petty revenge again, perhaps, but if it got him out of here alive...
"And what did I do to catch your personal interest?"
His tone was almost playful, bemused, like an office worker who had just been caught stealing someone's lunch out of the community fridge. He expected some answer along the lines of a comrade of Reyes' he'd killed, or that Reyes was looking for a challenging fight, or for the bragging rights that come from killing a high-ranking Shimada, answers that were always given by people who claimed to have "personal" business with Hanzo. It sure would be funny to see yet another person slide up to the plate with yet another cliche motivation to get up in his face, especially if they happened to come from Overwatch.
He kept his bow trained on Reyes, an inquisitive eyebrow raised.
Let the game of cat and mouse begin...and may he get out of this round alive.
Hanzo was certain he hadn’t been followed, CERTAIN.
He wasn’t that careless, that foolish or unprofessional. The archer took no small amount of pride in his work, his skill, his caution and attention to detail…
So why did he feel so on-edge?
He grumbled to himself, keeping an arrow nocked in his bow as he snuck along the darkened, empty city streets.
He swore, if it was another assassin sent for him…
“…”
He scowled, thinking: well, he had had a bad night and completed a tough job, after all. Maybe he was just a little worn-out, tired, hearing things…
But maybe, if it WAS an assassin, he’d…indulge himself a little, fight them hand-to-hand, blow off some steam before eliminating them, one way or another. He deserved as much, he thought, and perhaps it would help steady him, get him to calm down…
Yes, that sounded good.
Glancing over his shoulder, Hanzo turned a corner suddenly and sharply, moving back a good distance before firing a warning shoot off into the vacant, dark street behind him, calling out in a stern tone:
“If you want to live, I would suggest showing yourself, or, better yet, leaving.”
He sincerely hoped his gut was right, and that he was not, in fact, firing at shadows, imagining things, running from ghosts…
The most boring part of the job, bar of course any of the desk work crap, is without a doubt solo recon duty of a solitary target. You’re not allowed to harm the idiot, have to take a complete hands off approach to tracking and any potential satisfaction is always swiftly drained away by sheer tedium as they bumble about.
This target however is less innocent than most and far more personal.
With a small grunt Reyes lowers himself back onto the ground as the higher ground starts to cause only problems in keeping the archer within his line of sight. He is good, just like his brother without a doubt. But this man is BETTER.
Eyes dart about scenery as he continues to tail, tallying up potential sites of ambush or escape opportunities should the need arise with fingertips never more than a touch away from a weapon. Hell, when that arrow ghosts past him missing by a wide berth the Commander barely stops his reflexes to sending a knife right at their skull in retaliation.
“Tch.”
Stepping away from the shadows in a surprisingly fluid movement for a man of his build, he raises his hands near his head to show he is unarmed but it does not remove that cocky smile from Reyes face as he stares back ignoring that notched arrow.
“My, somebody is sure flighty. Care to talk about it Shimada? Or you just like turning people into pin cushions in yer spare time these days?”
His posture only dares Hanzo to try that stunt again.
Hanzo was slightly relieved by the man's lifted arms, his open hands...
But that smirk, quickly followed by that snarky reply shot his mood straight back down, not to mention the confidence with which this stranger stepped forward, the way he was holding himself...
This is a man unafraid to kill.
"If you were in my position, you wouldn't be calm either."
He kept his bow trained on the stranger, less out of aggression and more as a potential warning, a deterrence: regardless of what weapon this man might draw on him, Hanzo could at least get an arrow through his neck or into his stomach in time, something to make him bleed, suffer...
His stern gaze faltered for a moment at that thought, the sharp focus of his eyes seeming to waver, the slightest tremor travelling up his arm: was he truly thinking about killing more, tonight?
He was tired, tired and frustrated: he had attacked another Shimada-controlled outpost tonight, and although the pay was good and the job offered no small amount of catharsis, of slight, perhaps even petty revenge against the clan...it was never easy killing people he once was set to lead.
He shouldn't have taken the job at all, really, considering the time of year and his current mental state: it was almost time to return to Shimada Castle to leave his offering, and the restless nights he had been having as of late were no help...
Hindsight is 20/20 though, and regardless of why he was in this situation now, he intended to survive and look back on this encounter as a lesson learned...and then find somewhere safe to sleep (or, more appropriately, TRY to sleep) for a couple of days.
"Who are you?"
His tone was as serious as always, but his expression had softened ever-so-slightly after he had come out of his thoughts: he looked almost expectant now, welcoming to new information from a stranger he didn't want to kill...
Hanzo was certain he hadn't been followed, CERTAIN.
He wasn't that careless, that foolish or unprofessional. The archer took no small amount of pride in his work, his skill, his caution and attention to detail...
So why did he feel so on-edge?
He grumbled to himself, keeping an arrow nocked in his bow as he snuck along the darkened, empty city streets.
He swore, if it was another assassin sent for him...
"..."
He scowled, thinking: well, he had had a bad night and completed a tough job, after all. Maybe he was just a little worn-out, tired, hearing things...
But maybe, if it WAS an assassin, he'd...indulge himself a little, fight them hand-to-hand, blow off some steam before eliminating them, one way or another. He deserved as much, he thought, and perhaps it would help steady him, get him to calm down...
Yes, that sounded good.
Glancing over his shoulder, Hanzo turned a corner suddenly and sharply, moving back a good distance before firing a warning shoot off into the vacant, dark street behind him, calling out in a stern tone:
"If you want to live, I would suggest showing yourself, or, better yet, leaving."
He sincerely hoped his gut was right, and that he was not, in fact, firing at shadows, imagining things, running from ghosts...
((Ship warning: contains McHanzo. (McCree x Hanzo)
Content warning: Contains blood, gore, and implied murder. Reader discretion is advised.
Welp, here's a thing.
Threw this together after a friend tipped me off to some cool Werewolf!McCree stuff that's apparently floating around out there, and I thought it'd be fun to do a thing where Hanzo was the wolf instead.
So, premise behind this is essentially that Hanzo and McCree have succeeded in removing McCree's werewolf curse...only to have it accidentally transfer to Hanzo. Now, McCree is having to keep his big angry werewolf boyfriend under control, and quickly realizing it's not as easy Hanzo made it seem.
This is my very first Overwatch thing ever, so apologies if it's ooc or anything like that, I'm still learnin'.
Have a thing.))
McCree had seen some shit, had DONE some shit in his lifetime. He had seen violence, war, betrayal: he'd been on Blackwatch for Christ's sake...
But he had never felt more deeply, instinctually afraid than this moment.
It lumbered towards him, emitting a deep, bassy growl, clawed paws moving slowly, but deliberately in a wide arc around him, circling closer with each pass.
McCree watched, keeping his gun held tight but not pointing it at the thick-furred beast: even like this he couldn't bring himself to put Hanzo in his sights.
Still the wolf circled closer, and McCree stepped back reflexively, noting little details in the lycan's form and gait: thick black fur, deep dark eyes that stared and glinted with all of Hanzo's usual cunning, but none of his warmth.
McCree forgot at times that Hanzo was a trained tactician, an assassin with years upon years of practice and experience, that he was far smarter than he let on. It was curious to see just how much of that had transferred over to the giant wolf before him...
And yet how little of the man was truly left behind.
"Hanzo..."
A sniff, a growl, fur bristling, jaws peeled back into a snarl. Jesse thought of the others Hanzo had killed tonight, wondering, calculating if he would still be hungry, still want to kill...
"Hanzo, it's okay. It's just me and you now, buddy..."
It stepped closer, dark eyes focused, a gaze McCree had seen in Hanzo's eyes easily a hundred times on the battlefield, the glare that only came when Hanzo had the kill, locked dead in his sights.
Another step closer.
"Hanzo, for fuck's sake don't make me do this!"
His voice broke, the wolf hesitating, staring at Jesse's gun as he lifted it, stared down the barrel into those oh-so-familiar eyes...
He shuddered.
He lost his grip.
Clang.
A gun on the ground.
Big mistake.
The beast was on top of him in an instant, claws digging into his shoulders, hat tossed aside by the impact, leaving Jesse's shocked face exposed...as well as the fresh tear trails streaking down his cheeks.
"Hanzo-"
Jaws open, coming down, McCree screaming as he forced his arms up against the pressure and pain of Hanzo's paws, claws pressing down into his flesh, McCree holding Hanzo's jaws back, noting the blood and bits of bone still clinging to the wolf's fangs.
Good god, the memories: waking up in the morning some nights and finding bits of flesh still between his teeth, Hanzo's body flecked with wounds and bandages, the archer casually trying to hide the silver arrows and wolfsbane under the bed, in the closet, trying to gloss over the small puncture wounds on Jesse's own body when they'd huddle in close to each other at night...
McCree had always felt Hanzo was being disingenuous, was dodging the problem instead of fixing it, that he was choosing to avoid, ignore McCree's curse whenever he could, had always felt insulted by what he perceived as quiet cowardice, a desire for the issue to just go away on it's own...
He understood why that wasn't the case, now: he had seen war, had seen and sowed death hundreds of times...but the sight of his lover, ravening, jaws caked with human remains, chomping down at him in just the same way that Jesse surely had at Hanzo every full moon night...
This moment would end up in his nightmares.
"HANZO, HANZO PLEASE STOP!"
A guttural noise from that gaping mouth, claws digging in deeper, jaws pushing together, trying to close, Jesse's arms starting to fail him, clothes starting to soak with blood, eyes blurry from the tears...
"WAKE UP YOU BIG, STUPID-"
The wolf suddenly shifted, one paw lifting from McCree's shoulder only to stomp down onto his chest, knocking the wind out of him, jaws clamping down on Jesse's right arm, him trying to scream but pushed down, restricted by the monster's weight. Jesse was suddenly appreciating how relatively small and lithe Hanzo usually was right about now.
"H-Han..."
Through the pain, McCree reached up, petting the side of the wolf's head, to which it instantly dropped his right arm and bit his left.
"Ugh, bad dog..."
A choked chuckle: he was quickly losing air, and with it, consciousness. His vision was beginning to blur, a calming numbness falling over his mind as oxygen deprivation kicked in...
He took a lazy, almost playful punch at the werewolf's side, and then gave a tired, tearful farewell as he succumbed to his wounds and starved lungs:
"Sorry."
---
A faint beeping, the roar of air through an AC vent, and the faint drone of a TV, volume turned down low.
It was funny what your brain picked up on first when you woke up from a beating: it's a little different every time.
Jesse sat up and- ah, no, scratch that: no sitting up, hurt way too damn much.
He laid back on his hospital bed, reaching blindly over the side, feeling for the button to tilt the bed up, getting up into a comfortable place before...
"Heh, sleeping beauty."
McCree chuckled to himself, seeing Hanzo asleep across the room, sitting straight up in his chair, his head gently tilted, drooped down to the side.
"Hannnnnnnny, I'm awake buddy, c'mon."
After no apparent response, McCree casually reached for the bedside table, grabbing a magazine and throwing it at Hanzo's chair with suprising accuracy for an injured man, sending the archer screaming awake and tumbling back.
"Mornin'," McCree drawled, watching Hanzo get to his feet and dust himself off.
"Jesse..."
McCree watched the archer with calm resignation: he already had his speech for Hanzo laid out, how he was gonna apologize for all those complaints he had made about Hanzo hiding stuff from him, for all those times he'd thought he was being evasive, ignoring the issue. He got it now, he understood...
Hanzo was so much stronger than him, put up with so much more than he realized, going through all that every full moon.
Hanzo stumbled across the room, collapsing to his knees at the side of the bed, head hung low, his hand braced on top of the bedsheets, his words quiet, afraid:
"Jesse...I'm so sorry."
McCree gently rested his hand on top of Hanzo's, smiling:
"Dammit Han, you're fine: I'm the asshole for thinking you had the 'easier' side of this deal for years."
His fingers clamped around Hanzo's, holding them tight...too tight, his hand shaking even as he tried to keep his tone even, calm.
"That was fucking stupid, selfish, and arrogant of me. You're okay, buddy. Sorry I kept bugging ya' about all this shit...and I'm even more sorry for gettin' you tangled up in all this."
Hanzo lifted his head, looking McCree over with those deep, dark eyes...full of that familiar glint of intelligence, humility, and warmth he had fallen in love with.
They sat in silence for a time before Hanzo slid onto the bed to hold McCree as gently as he could, tears streaming down his face, McCree doing his best to shoosh him, get him to relax...
He had to be strong, strong like Hanzo had been for him all these years.
"I love you, Han."
"I love you too, Jesse."
A soft kiss, from McCree's lips to Hanzo's.
"We'll get through this, buddy."
He returned his lover's gentle embrace, making his torn up shoulders and chewed-up arms sear with agony, as if trying to remind him, warn him of who, and WHAT, he was holding so close...
((Totally didn't just spend well over an hour writing a shitty mchanzo drabble after being sent links to some awesome art and some great fics about Werewolf!McCree, nope, not at all.
Said drabble does NOT involve McCree's werewolf curse getting transferred to Hanzo by accident and some angst as a result, nope.
I haven't even been in this fandom for more than a few weeks and I'm already in ship hell, send help.))
So, I just set up this sideblog not to long ago and want to start things up here.
I'll probably be posting some open starters soon, although I tend to take a while on threads so in the meantime if anyone wants to mess with a crappily-written Hanzo (on anon or not) feel free to hit me up.))
