Not the same anon, but Hanzo taking tiny mermaid mccree home, getting take away by his cute little charms. Mccree often makes kissy faces at him and Hanzo doesn't get at at first. Then one day he find himself kissing his finger and pressing it to the glass. Blowing kisses back. Nearly dies of embarassment the day he gives the mermaid a little smooch. It fades into shock when he ends up with a lap full of soaking wet cowboy.
Essentially Chapter 1 of this mini fic
The witch’s shop was dark and cluttered, too full of the tools of the trade to be welcoming to the public. Most stayed far away, knowing it was dangerous to make deals with a witch. But those that had need of her the most could not afford to stay safe.
Hanzo was such a man and he walked into the shop with a clear mission. At the best of times, he would have spent the time gathering his own supplies to craft charms and wards against the evil he hunted.
It was not the best of times.
The witch of the waste was an unassuming figure at first as she hunched over the counter, frantically scribbling in one of several open books. She did not look up at the quiet chime of the bell over the door and Hanzo did not disturb her.
Their arrangement was friendly at best and deadly at worst. He had several scars to prove the wisdom of silence and respect to the working witch.
Ducking under a sprig of sage bundled with lavender and the bones of a field mouse, Hanzo stepped lightly to the shelf of supplies. Ignoring the shimmering, glowing items and enchanted specimens that lured casual shoppers, he plucked dead man’s ashes, the talon of a hawk and a shard of a knight’s broken sword. There were other smaller items to find though he knew where they were for the most part.
“You will find what you seek in the silver display case.” The witch’s voice betrayed nothing and she had not looked up from her book when Hanzo glanced her way. “For a price, of course.”
Hanzo knew better than to scoff and he dutifully went to examine the case for the strands of unicorn hair that were necessary to bind the spell to the shafts of his arrows.
It was there, shimmering iridescence in the golden shop light. The velvet blue pillow seemed to ripple, as if to show off the colors of its burden. A wave of relief moved through him to see the price had not changed since the last time he had dared venture into the den of magic and mystery.
“I will take two strands, sixteen inches in length.” He didn’t tap on the glass though he itched to.
He stepped aside, not wishing to be too close to the witch. Her aura burned in his nose, acrid and sharp as ozone. It brought him to the case of oddities, a dangerous collection of items whose use was unknown or simply better left unspoken. His gaze skipped over the display, trying not to settle on anything too long else he wake it or draw it’s attention.
There was something different within the mess today, a flash of reflected light dancing in the darkness. He didn’t dare reach for it, not right away but he shifted his position to see. It was a fish tank, unassuming at first with dirty glass and chipped black edges.
The fake plastic plants had seen better days. A rather sorry affair all together. Hanzo peered closer, looking for what fish could have ended up with the misfortune of living in a witch’s shop. There were a few bubbles from the fake stone cave, a large treasure chest sitting at the top and a spill of fake gold coins were painted on. It was a tank set up with little thought or perhaps a touch of cruelty.
“What does the tank hold?” Hanzo murmured, not turning as the witch plucked the unicorn tail for his needs.
“Something of a pet, a miss behaving one at that,” she chuckled, the sound lacing with her voice in strange, compelling ways. “Come out and say hello, Jesse.”