Can i request that the reader is actually hanzo's and genji's sister that they kept hidden from overwatch and the world but they have to tell the team about her when she starts to get hunted by talon
You loved your brothers. You really did. However, what you didn’t love was that whilst your brothers were out gallavanting with Overwatch, you had to stay behind and be kept hidden.
“It is for your own safety, (Y/N).” Hanzo explained. He had come back to your safehouse in Hanamura. To the rest of his team in the dropship, it was a visit to his previous home so it didn’t look too suspicious.
“I just wish to go with you. I don’t want to be stuck here while you and Genji are out, facing danger every day!”
“(Y/N), there is a fine line between wanting and needing. I know you do not want to stay here, but we need you to. With the forces of Talon becoming greater, so does the risk of you being found out and being put in danger.”
You huffed. Being the younger sister of the two ninjas was no easy feat. They were always protective of you, always wanting the best for you. Even if that did mean no one knowing of your existence
“Let me come back with you. Please?” Your eyes widened, eyelashes fluttering.
Hanzo raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips, his well known stern look on his face. You frowned.
“Fine. Okay. I’ll stay.”
You of course didn’t plan on staying.
Once Hanzo had hugged you and bid you goodbye, you began grabbing your necessities and shoving them into a small backpack. Toothbrush, deodorant, comb, money, map, clothes. Done.
You opened the door of the safehouse and took in a deep breath of fresh air. The streets weren’t overly busy, but busy enough to lose yourself in the crowd should you need to.
You had a nagging feeling. A sense that someone had their eyes on you. Looking over your shoulder, there was no-one in your immediate vicinity that you could spot looking at you. Shaking it off as nerves of disobeying your big brother, you carried on stalking through the streets of Hanamura to the station.
Suddenly, a hand wrapped around your wrist and your heart went through your chest. “What are you doing?!” You tried to wrench your arm away from the assailant.
You stopped. You stared. It was your other brother, Genji.
“Where are you going, (Y/N)?”
“You haven’t seen me in months and that’s the first thing you ask?”
Your arm went slack.
“Hanzo had said to me that you wanted to join us. He asked me to follow you.”
“Yes, well, when you leave your younger sister alone things tend to get, erm, lonely.”
“Hush, (Y/N), please.” Genji looked over both of his shoulders before leading you towards a secluded shop opening.
Before you could even open your mouth to confront Genji, screams were heard from across the street. A confused, fearful look crossed your face, opposite to Genji’s which showed annoyance.
“This is why you should have stayed at the house.”
You frowned, lips parting to say-
“Stay out of sight. Do not let anybody see you, (Y/N).”
“Is this that.. Talon?”
“Hide, sister. I will be back.”
He stalked off towards where the screams and now explosions were coming from.
You thought it would be best to follow your brother’s advice and jogged down a small alleyway, out of sight and in the shadows. What you hadn’t expected was to see two men dressed in black uniforms, sporting an insignia you had never seen before. It had two arches, resembling a rams horns.
Your feet skidded on the ground to try and stop and run the other way, but they had already clocked you and soon enough had their weapons pointed at you.
“Freeze.” One of the men chuckled.
You spread your hands out and held them at head height to show you were unarmed. You gulped.
The second man raised his hand that wasn’t holding his weapon to his ear.
“Boss. We found her. Practically ran straight into us.” He spoke into his earpiece.
“Yeah, the Shimada sister.”
Shit. How did they know who you were?
You wanted to run. You wanted to call out. You wanted to do anything that that stopped these men pointing their guns at you.
“Ryūjin no ken wo kurae!”
Genji appeared and then disappeared, a swift strike through the soldiers and they slumped on the floor. He grabbed your wrist again, not as gentle as the last time.
“Come. We must leave.”
“Genji.. I-” You were in shock. Your brother had just killed those men and-
A yank on your hand sent you running. Where? You don’t know. You managed to keep up with your brother, eyes watering with unshed tears.
After 5 minutes he slowed down, taking you to a quiet street, bringing you against him in a tight hug.
“I am sorry you had to see that.”
You looked back up at him, tears finally falling and breathless.
“Those men.. who were they?”
“Talon. They were after you.” He loosened his arms and looked down at you. “Hanzo and I were on our way to our usual visit here, but it appears as though we were itercepted. We know they have recently recruited a new hacker. Whether they found out our connections, I do not know.”
You unlocked your eyes from his, burying your head in his chest. He didn’t need to say anymore to imply what Talon wanted.
A small pat on your back and you were released from the hug.
“This does however put us in a bit of a predicament, (Y/N).”
Your brows furrow.
“Your safehouse was comprimised. Yet, I can’t take you back the dropship.”
You tilted your head. “Why not?”
“Overwatch does not yet know that Hanzo and I have a sister.”
“Ah.” You brought your finger up to wipe away the last tear.
“I am sure however, we can think of something.” Genji said, a smile in his voice.
“Y'all have a sister?!” McCree exclaimed.
“Jesse, please. Don’t let the entire dropship hear.” Hanzo said. It was rare he used sarcasm, a trait he had picked up from his western friend.
“Well… What’s she like?”
The conversation was dropped.
You and Genji stepped up to the dropship ramp. You took a deep breath. Inside the dropship you were surrounded by unfamiliar faces. You saw Hanzo, and smiled meekly at him. It was as though his face hadn’t changed from the stern look when he blatantly said yoi can’t come back. He stepped forward, creating a space between you and the strangers.
“Everyone. This is our younger sister, (Y/N).” He paused. “She is here because it seems as though our information has been compromised. Talon agents know who she is and our relations, and attempted to find her. Hence, why she is now here under our protection.”
Murmers spread amongst the strangers, your face blushing with the attention.
A man in a hat and a cape came up to you.
“The name’s McCree.” He nodded.
You smiled slightly, and glanced at Hanzo. He raised his eyebrows and slightly nodded his head in approval.
“Hi, er, (Y/N).” You said, introducing yourself.
He tilted his head, a smile pulling at his lips.
“So how come we haven’t heard of you before?”
Oh no. Here we go.
Hanzo could see you flush slightly and made his way over, a protective hand encasing yours.
“Protection.” Hanzo stated, glancing at you. You agreed. To be fair, Hanzo wasn’t wrong.
“And now that she is here, we will be able to protect you even more.” A gentle smile graced his lips as he full on looked at you.
“Well, darlin’. You’re in capable hands if you’re bein’ protected by Overwatch.”
McCree’s accent made you blush, not to mention the thought of you being actually being safe. Now that you had a terrorist organsiation hunting you down, you needed your brothers more than ever. Luckily, they were here for you. Or so you hoped..
I have recently made a purchase that I am not sure whether or not I should be proud of:
Now, some of you might be wondering what so strange about this book? I mean, it’s just the lord of the rings, what’s so odd about that?
Well, this is the complete text of the lord of the rings, all of it, all six books, totaling in over 1000 pages in all.
Don’t believe me? Look at this:
This is the index…the second and third pages of the index, and as you can see on the left, the number of pages go over the four digit mark, making this the single biggest book I ever owned.
And look at this font size!
It’s puny, what is that? Size 8?
….Y’know, I only ever saw the movies, and I always wanted to read the books, since their such a staple of fantasy literature, a genre I wish the one day be a part of…so I’m going to read this whole massive thing.
So I’ve started a series of fantasy-style maps of places in the real world, beginning with Massachusetts. Check it out and spread the word!
Also! There’s an “unlabeled” version (no cities or labels of anything smaller than state-level) and a “Request-Your-Town” version where I can add any location in Massachusetts you would like to see present. Just let me know!
The map of my utopian world has no borders. I believe in the free movement of people. As a principle, I think we should all be able to roam the planet and live, love and create where we wish.
As borders have become tougher for people, they have all but been lifted for capital. Money can travel the globe virtually without restriction, in search of regulations that are weaker and labour that is cheaper.
When it does, it often displaces people: sucking investment and resources from one place at the flick of a switch; shutting down factories and shifting them to the other side of the world; or introducing automation that renders some professions obsolete. But those who find their lives turned upside down by the free movement of capital are often prevented from moving country and looking for work. People should have at least the same rights – or more, since humans are more valuable than money.
It is a fact, rarely stated but generally acknowledged and accepted, that the global poor should not be allowed to travel. That’s most of the world. As such, from the refugee camp in Calais to the rickety vessels on the Mediterranean, from Trump’s wall to the Berlin wall, the border stands as an ultimate point of confrontation in the broader dystopia we have made possible.
Nation states are a relatively new concept; migration is as old as humanity. Borders seek to regulate and restrict that basic human custom for the distinct purpose of excluding some and privileging others. They discriminate between all people with the express intention of then being able to discriminate against some people. They do not simply set boundaries for countries, but are metaphors for the boundaries of how we might think about other human beings. Immigrants are not the problem. Borders are.
Naval Raiders used false flag operations (raising the flag of the target ships nation in order to close on the enemy), insurance scams (it was easier and cheaper for both parties if the ship surrendered its cargo to the Pirates bloodlessly), and firepower (force and intimidation) to take ships and cargo’s. Pirates were often a rag tag bunch, using ships of various sizes almost always designed for other purposes but refitted as privateers (lawful pirates given legal permission to target the maritime interests of the opposing countries merchant navies).
Sam Sam, I just read your post-camping catalogue and if you don't mind, can you please explain how to fit and strap backpacks correctly? Thanks in advance!
I will share my knowings with you!
Bear in mind: I am not an expert, and aside from some dry runs I have been backpacking once, and that was yesterday. So this is all the result of Internet Learnings and Asking Random People I Met On Trail. But I successfully put them into practice and I knew the theory behind them, so take that for what it’s worth. Putting this behind a readmore because it got looooong.
Dougal was the first to awaken when
the guard returned a few hours later. He felt disorientated but not anxious. It
still felt more like a dream than anything else. He was a practical man however
and understood this was his new reality. Whatever it took to survive this well,
he would do. Perhaps he would get back to Scotland sooner rather than later but
it wasn’t uppermost on his mind. Claire was.
He was highly curious about the time
and place they found themselves in. How did the people here make do? He decided
to put off his questions of the past for another day. She would know what had
happened. He wanted her help with the present now though. He’d have to wake
her, whether Jamie liked it or no.
He noted when the guard went back up
the steps that it was still dark outside but dawning. Time to be about it then.
He quietly made his way to her side and shook her shoulder. “Claire, time to
wake lass. Will ye help wi the dressing? The Nun didna tell us anything ye ken?
She just picked it and handed it over.”
Dougal was not happy to see her
cozied up to Jamie’s side. He tried not to think about the fact that he had
arranged this marriage or that they seemed to be drawing closer because of it.
He knew, now, and probably even then, she was too good for the likes of this
boy. She deserved a man such as himself. He would just have to arrange for her
to see it as well. He could make himself the more needed man, of that he was
“Dougal for heaven’s sake, it’s just
a pair of breeks, a shirt and a jacket, with a belt and a tie. Oh, alright
maybe you might need help with the tie and the purpose of the undergarments,
but did you have to wake me up for it?” Claire groused as she sat up.
Dougal noted her shift as the
blanket fell away and smiled at her as he took in her tousled appearance. “Well
now, and how long does it take ye to tame those curls of a morning? I dinna
think I e’re noticed just how much hair ye have lass. Tis bonny.”
“Dougal just what in the hell do ye think
yer doin man?” Jamie, who had taken his dirk from beneath his head,when he
heard the guard come down the stairs, said as he sat up next to Claire. “If my
wife is sleeping it’s no yer place to be waking her with compliments.” He frowned,
pointing his dirk at Dougal’s face whilst covering Claire up to her nose in blanket
with his other hand.
Claire laughed and pushed the dirk
back down, along with the cover and stood up slowly. “Dougal head to the sink
and wash up with this and then I will see to your attire and everyone else’s”
she said, collecting a towel and the soap from the kit bag. “We can’t be walking
the streets looking like dirty ragamuffins you fool. Get the worst of the dirt
off your face, neck and hands and I’ll be right there.”
He gave her a long look in the
lightening room, appreciating her unembarrassed form. “Well, just so then.” He
said, turning on his heel and calling to the other men. “Wake up lads, Claire
wants us presentable.” He deliberately did not say “Mrs. Fraser”. He wouldn’t
give Jamie the satisfaction. Presumptuous pup. Thinking he needed reminding,
He spent a moment flipping the light
switch before he got down to the business at hand. Amazing really. He didn’t
care about privacy, so he didn’t shut the door behind him. Thinking himself a
fine figure of a man who hadn’t lost his own form, he had no issues with
letting anyone see what he was about. He took his time cleaning up and then
selected the attire she said from his own pile and waited for her.
“You don’t tuck the breeks into your
boots. There should be an undershirt there to use before the shirt. These are
underwear, called boxers, put them on before the pants. Stop looking at me like
that Angus! They are necessary. This is the jacket to match and this tie will
do.” Claire said, heading to Murtagh’s pile next and selecting his garments
then Angus’s before heading back to Jamie’s. “We will need to get you all shoes
as well as haircuts today. Men only wear their boots for working now and hair
is kept short. Most men won’t have beards either. We shouldn’t draw too much
notice. Let me use the washroom next please, so I can help with the ties after
I get dressed. Also, there is food in this pack from the Priest, be sure to eat
something before we head out. I don’t know if the guard has a vehicle and we
may have another long walk ahead.”
Claire was back to her healer tone
Dougal noted. He admired that as well. He would never tell her that though.
Wouldn’t want her thinking he liked or wanted a woman telling him what to do. With
much harrumphing and grumbling, the men dressed and took their turns after
Claire in the washroom. He watched as she had Jamie hold up a blanket so she
could dress behind it.
“Jesus Claire! You aren’a wearing
that!” he heard Jamie say furiously after a few minutes. The he let out a
string of profanity in the Ghalidgh that she couldn’t possibly understand. Curious
to see her and what the fuss was about, Dougal made his way back to them.
Claire had on what looked to be a belted, flowered shift and she was showing
her fine legs! They seemed to shine and her shoes were heeled and red, not the
slipper kind he was used to seeing. She was pushing her hair up into a hat that
looked to be made of straw and flopped down on one side. It had a large red
ribbon behind the brim.
Dougal laughed loudly. “Tis a bit
like the shift Murtagh found you in, I like it.” Jamie dropped all pretense at
sense after hearing this and shoved him. He shoved him back, twice as hard. “If
you do that again, I’ll put you on your arse you idiot.” He said while holding
a hand out to Claire. “Let’s head up and
see what this day is bringing…”
He didn’t see the punch coming
because he was too focused on her. It took him square in the jaw and swung his
head to the far right. He tasted blood and spun back to Jamie, reaching for his
throat. He felt Angus and Murtagh rushing in from behind to join what promised
to be a fine brawl.
“Jesus H. Roosevelt CHRIST! That
will be just about enough of that! You didn’t clean up just to roll around in
the dirt. Scotsmen! Hard headed, ridiculous, childlike, overgrown boys! I am not going to referee while you all beat
the snot out of each other. I won’t. I will leave and take the maps and money
with me, just watch me.” Claire, clearly losing her own temper, said before she
picked up her bag and a smaller leather looking one and crossed to the steps.
“I will give you five minutes to
collect your things and come upstairs before I wash my hands of the lot of you
and find my own way without you.”
The men all watched as she stomped
up the stairs, still muttering under her breath.
“Nah, never happen. I know she wilna
leave us. Try not to look so crestfallen Jamie. She’s just talking, like women
do, ya ken?” Murtagh said while heading to his items and bundling them all back
Angus spit in Jamie’s general
direction and winked at Dougal. “You reckon they all dress like that now?”
“I hope so
lad, I most assuredly hope so.” Dougal went back to his own items and found the
hat. Placing it on his head, he picked up his bundle and followed Claire. He
had no doubt she would gladly leave them all behind.
Murtagh did not mind the clothes so
much but was distinctly unhappy when Claire told them to hide all their
weapons. “I willna.”
“You will unless you want to be
arrested for menacing. Now come here and let me tie your tie.” She frowned at
him and rearranged the collar and tiny buttons at the top of his shirt. “I’ll
teach you how to do this yourself later. The guard should be back any moment.
Tuck your hair up into your hat. Yes, like that.”
The sun was high enough for them to
get a good look at their surroundings while they waited. It wasn’t long though
before they saw him coming back to fetch them. Murtagh noticed Jamie rolling
his sword into one of the bundles and handed his over, but he put his dirk back
behind on his belt, under his jacket. “Just in case eh lad?”
“Right. I moved my dagger to my
sock, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her or us.” Jamie said grinning at him.
Murtagh thought he still looked a bit sour,
but knew that he would collect himself shortly into his normal demeanor. Jamie
could be counted on in any number of ways, but what he admired most about his
godson was his ability to hide what was going on in his mind and just get on
with it. It took skill, that. It made him proud that he was so competent, so
young, a fine braw lad.
“it will be a bit of a squeeze
getting you all into the car, but I’ll think we’ll manage it.” The guard said
pleasantly. “Mrs. Barnett’s BH is it? Father McDaniel sure knows how to pick
‘em, I’ll give him that.” He shook his head and started up the risers. “Come
on, days a wasting and I have to get home to the Mrs. before she sends out a
Murtagh looked to Claire and raised
a brow “Car?” he mouthed.
“I’m Claire Fraser. Thank you so
much for helping us out Mr.?” she said while walking just behind the guard. She
looked back at the men and placed a finger to her lips while shaking her head
“Oh, Tommy Flanigan, at your service,
Ma’am. I’d do anything for the Priest, he’s that good a man.” He said as he
tipped his hat to her. Murtagh liked that touch. He’d have to remember it.
They reached the top of the bowl and
were walking back to the road when Claire said “what a lovely automobile Mr.
Flanigan. What model is it?”
“It’s a Ford Model A. I’m right
proud of it. You climb in the back with two of the fellas and I’ll make shift
to get the other two up front with me. Plenty of room in the well for your
Murtagh climbed in beside her while
Jamie took the other side. Angus sat next to Tommy with Dougal half sideways
trying to figure out how to shut the door again. He wondered if the others felt as queasy as he
did. He closed his eyes and said a quick prayer for protection, before studying
Claire again to see what her reaction was to this car thing.
She was unfazed, of course. He had
to admit to himself a growing attachment to her ever since the wedding. She had
seemed strange to him more often than not, but now she seemed solid enough. He
had made her Fae Folk in his own mind, or a Gypsy enchantress come to ensorcell
them all. He knew she wasn’t, but some of that lingered. Now, Jamie was
completely captured by her. With disgust, Murtagh realized the lad’s adoration
was bleeding into his own veins. Only time would tell if they were all fools
about who and what she was.
just have to wait it out. His job, as he saw it, was to protect Jamie. If she
were to prove untrue or dangerous to his godson, he would do what needed to be
done. There was no grey moral area for him about it. He didn’t think like that.
Claire was happy to have the time in
the car to collect her thoughts and watch all their reactions as they took in
the sights and sounds of this new world. She thought they were doing well, all
things considered. They were maintaining their quiet, calm demeanors, even
though they must be near to bursting with questions.
“Mr. Flanigan, we aren’t from here,
as you have likely surmised. We are newly arrived from Scotland and don’t know
much about this town, other than what we have seen in films and newsreels,
could you tell us a bit about it as you drive us to the boarding house?” she
asked from the back seat, while shifting her backside onto Jamie’s lap. Five
minutes into the ride she knew she was going to be squashed half to death. Much
more pleasant to feel his arms around her and rest back into his chest.
She had been surprised by her own
reaction to seeing him in modern clothing. She would have thought she preferred
him in Highlander garb. Not so. His long, lean, but well-muscled, frame was
beautifully displayed in the navy-blue suit. It made him look older and somehow
even more dangerous. The hat, a black felt fedora, was resting low on his
forehead and his stunning blue eyes took on another hue because of it.
It shook her a bit. She had been
attracted to him and his boyish charm, long before she married him, but even
after she became familiar with the pleasures his nearness and flesh could bring,
she had still thought him too young. Too unsettled. Too disposable if she had
to be honest with herself. The only thing he seemed to have in common with
Frank was an underlying note of well-hidden menace. Now, he did not seem
immature, reckless or worth setting aside. How and when had that happened?
Was it possible that she was going
to have to forget about Frank? Just let him go entirely? He was here, in this
world, albeit younger, but why had she lost her ring in the transition this
time? Did it mean she had somehow altered time? If she were to contact him,
what could she possibly say? “Oh, sorry darling, been doing a bit of time
traveling, you haven’t met me yet, but further down the road we will marry?
Then I will leave you mysteriously?” It was ridiculous. Better to make a life
here and now surely.
“Well, Hollywood is basically a
company town Ma’am, part of greater Los Angeles of course. We have a little bit
of everything here and we are proud of it. Just look at these buildings…” Tommy
had been talking the whole time she had been thinking about her situation with
Jamie and Frank. He was pointing to things outside the window and rambling on.
The men seemed fascinated with everything he was saying and they were seeing.
Her woolgathering hadn’t made a difference.
“Here we are, Mrs. Bartlett’s, you
folks let Father McDaniel know I brought you right to the door mind.” He said
as he pulled into the curb moments later, in front of a very large house.
Victorian, painted a light blue with green and white trim, three stories tall above
ground, with many architectural oddities, including a turret and a porthole
window overlooking a small balcony. It looked like something out of a fairy
tale, designed by the Brothers Grimm.
Jamie gave Claire a tight squeeze
before he let her climb off and out of the car. “That certainly was an
interesting ride and sensation Sassenach” he whispered in her ear as he let her
go. She saw him give her a small lopsided grin and that slow blink of his that
was supposed to mimic a wink before she turned to the driver and held out her
hand to shake his. “Thank you ever so much. Do let us know if there is anything
we can do for you to repay your kindness.”
“Ah, well, convince Mrs. Bartlett to
have me over for supper one of these days. That will do the trick!” He waited
as they collected their belongings and made their way up the front steps and
across the large wraparound porch. “Be seeing ya!” he shouted and honked the
horn twice before taking off in what she assumed was a hurry to get back to the
The door opened almost immediately
and a stout short woman, who reminded Claire of Mrs. Fitz oddly enough, came
out. She was wearing a garishly flowered cotton house dress covered with a
massive apron and curlers in her hair. She also had black socks on rolled down
to her what appeared to be house slippers two sizes too big.
“Rhea Bartlett, pleased to meet you
all. Follow me, but stomp the dust off your feet first! Just swept the rugs.
Father McDaniel said you would be needing three rooms, and luckily, I have
them. You two are married yes? Well you’ll have to push two singles together;
the double isn’t available. Two of you
men are in the attic room and a single is next to the couple’s room. You’ll be
responsible for keeping your own rooms clean and doing your own laundry. I only
feed you at suppertime, 5:30 pm and I will not tolerate lateness. Nor will
there be any special food orders. You’ll eat what I provide and like it. You
may only smoke in the den or outside. I will also not tolerate drunken
foolishness or late comings and goings at all hours of the night. You will pay
your rent on time, or you will leave, posthaste. The bathroom you will all
share is on the third floor as well and don’t be overflowing the tub. If Father
McDaniel hadn’t vouched for you, you wouldn’t be here. I rarely take in
strangers or actors. Don’t make me regret it.”
“No, Mrs. Bartlett, we wouldn’t
think of it, I assure you.” Claire said giving her a most generous smile and
nodding her head in agreement. She was having trouble not laughing at that
torrent, and felt a bad case of the giggles coming on. Have mercy on us poor
strangers in a strange land and Saints preserve us she thought as they arrived
at her and Jamie’s room, controlling herself, but only just.