akiko-natsuko:

McCree had heard the stories, the whispers of creatures that lived under
the sea. Creatures that lured sailors and ships to their death, and he
had never believed them, until now…

‘The mermaid grace, the forever call
Beauty in spyglass on an old man’s porch
The mermaids you turn loose brought back your tears’

(Turn Loose the Mermaids, Nightwish)

Written for @danudaine and their amazing art of Hanzo HERE

Disclaimer: As always Overwatch and its amazing characters don’t belong to me, I’m just borrowing them.

Keep reading

bard–songs:

hanzo/jesse, hurt/comfort. 

dealing with trauma is rough. sometimes it’s a little easier if you have someone by your side.

---

Heaviness hangs over Jesse like a cloud, clinging to him in ways he can’t shake. He greets the other agents, cleans his gun, practices at the range, and eats with a mechanical air that betrays the depression.  

Hanzo stands by him and he understands. Remembers clearly the painful fog of depression, the fatigue and the hopelessness. Remembers, even more clearly, Jesse’s steady, comforting presence when he was at his absolute worst. Even as he lay in bed, wishing desperately for a painful death, the steady motion of Jesse’s fingers through his hair would soothe him enough to sleep.

For Jesse, it gets worse before it gets better. Depression bleeds slowly into PTSD, and Hanzo is helpless but to watch as Jesse ceases firearm practice because of how badly he shakes. Soon after, he gives Winston his temporary absence of leave, and then isolates altogether, spending most of his time in bed with a pillow clutched over his head to block out sound.

“I’m sorry,” Jesse repeats, desperately, one awful night as the clock slowly ticks into three a.m. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry -”

Hanzo holds him, and shushes him gently, and he waits. Prays for it to pass quickly. 

It doesn’t pass quickly, but it does pass. One morning Hanzo wakes to the smell of Jesse’s aftershave and the feeling of fingers combing back his hair. He opens his eyes to find Jesse sitting up in bed, his own hair still wet from the shower, and Hanzo can’t help but let out a relieved breath. The heaviness has not left him, Hanzo knows, but in the early light of the morning it seems less dense. 

“Hey, darlin’.” Jesse murmurs. The soothing motion of his fingers continue. Hanzo hums. 

“Good morning.” He says. “How are you feeling?” 

“Little better.” Jesse says. “Might go for a walk, later. A short one.” 

Hanzo hums, and as sinful as it seems to pull away from the gentle fingers in his hair, he does. He sits up and leans his head against Jesse’s shoulder, and a strong arm wraps gently around his middle. It is not the desperate cling of the last few nights, and Hanzo sighs, pressing a kiss to Jesse’s collarbone.

“‘M sorry.” Jesse says softly. “Haven’t been a very good partner, lately.”

“Nonsense.” Hanzo says firmly, reaching up to cradle Jesse’s cheek. Jesse leans into it. “You have felt unwell, and it is my job to provide support when you need it.”

He hesitates, suddenly self conscious. Did he provide the support Jesse needed? It didn’t feel like enough –

“Hey.” Jesse says quickly. “None of that, now. I’m lucky to have you, Hanzo. It’s enough, you just bein’ there. I know it’s not ….” He averts his eyes. “I know it’s not easy.” 

“I don’t want easy. I want you.” Hanzo reminds him gently. “And that means all of you …” 

He smiles, a toothy thing, and Jesse groans. “Hanzo.”

“Hardness and all.”

“Lord almighty,” Jesse swears, but he’s smiling as he says it, and Hanzo laughs. He curls up closer to the man he loves, and breathes in his scent, letting the anxiety of the past couple of weeks fade away. They’ll get through his, he knows. They’ll always get through it.