sometimes i feel like finding a traditional prince charming is easier

THE MISSION

[Written for Gency Week, Day 4; updated with fanart 7 Jan]

Warnings: Violence, mild profanity, and the antics of a spoilt younger son.

Summary: A different take on Genji’s origin story. Genji unexpectedly crosses paths with Mercy while she’s on a mission. 

“Genji-sama. The Boss wants to see you.”

Obscured by the steam of the hot springs, Genji couldn’t tell if Nishida was grimacing or smiling. Maybe neither. All those old dogs who had worked for his father for decades, they knew how to conceal their emotions.

So Hanzo was looking for him, eh? No doubt to give him another tongue lashing about the ‘Shimada Legacy’. Since their father’s death, his elder brother had become insufferably uptight about growing the Clan’s influence. Well, let the damn empire crumble. There was nothing noble about the Shimada Clan. Born out of the dark and secretive ways of the ninja, in modern times it was no more than a criminal syndicate.

 “You enjoy being an errand boy, Nishida?” Genji sneered.

“Errand boy is fine. What I don’t enjoy is being a babysitter.”

That stung. Genji rose from the bath and flung a wet towel at the old gangster. Nishida didn’t dodge and it struck him across the face with a sodden slap.

“Hanzo can keep waiting.”

Nishida shook off the towel and it fell to the floor. For a moment he hesitated, as if deliberating whether to say more.

“You have a problem, old man?”

When Nishida opened his mouth again, it was neither angry nor frustrated, just matter-of-fact. “It’s not just the Boss that has changed, Genji-sama. It’s a different inner circle now. The Old Master wouldn’t have liked it. I don’t like it. But it is what it is. We all need to watch out.” He paused and then turned to the door. “I’ll wait outside. We must go meet the Boss quickly.”

Genji scowled and pulled on his clothes. Peeking between the wooden panels of the sliding door, he could see a black limo and three men in dark jackets. His brother’s current right-hand man, Udaijin, was perched on the hood smoking a cigarette and looking at his watch. Genji was always being monitored, being judged. When he put a foot wrong, no-one in the Clan would dare physically attack him, but word would get to Hanzo and life was made unbearable for him in other ways.

Forget Hanamura. He needed to get lost in a mega-city, to bury himself in the chaos and the crowds. A few days in Tokyo living it up would cool his anger. Even the danger of trespassing the territory of other mobs – Tokyo was not under Shimada control – was nothing compared to the poisonous atmosphere here. Genji made his way to the second floor of the bath house, with little effort vaulted onto the roof of the next building, and was off.

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anonymous asked:

Zimbits, 59 5 13

You chose: seduction, alternate societies, awe/wonder (x)

The Great Fairy Kingdom of the North is in mourning.

The War is over, but it came at a cost: the lives of Queen Alicia and her consort, Robert, the Supreme Commander of the military forces. Peace has come, finally, but it’s up to their son, Jack, to put the kingdom back together.

With a heavy heart, Jack contemplates his next steps as the crown prince soon to be king. He’s been ruling in his late mother’s stead ever since her death, but in order to ascend to the throne properly he must complete the ritual procurement of a consort.

While not entirely comfortable with the traditional legerdemain of seduction, Jack knows his duty to his people. That’s why, when he sees a beautiful, golden man resting by a pool in the forest clearing, he goes to him.

The young man is indeed captivating, with strawberry blond locks like his mother, eyes the color of soil like his father, and something about the set of his shoulders that tells Jack he possesses an inner strength he’ll need if he’s going to become king consort.

Jack summons up all the charm he’s learned at court and approaches the young man. He knows he’s beautiful by both human and fairy standards, but the obvious interest in the man’s - Eric’s - eyes leads Jack to believe it will be even easier than he’d anticipated.

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grace coming out of the void

Summary:  It’s Christmas Eve, and Killian asks, “What is this holiday even about?” A Snowing/Charming Family/Captain Swan Christmas vignette.

Notes: I’m normally not one to write straight song-fics, but this was just too perfect. The song is “The Atheist Christmas Carol” by Vienna Teng.

I know there are many opinions and arguments about the state of religion in the Enchanted Forest, so for the sake of this piece, let’s just agree that the commercialization of Christmas/the combinations of Christmas with other traditions he may be familiar with confuse him. Please don’t comment just to make an argument about this!

In the craziness of grad school, I totally missed the signups for CSSS, and I missed all the great Christmas Snowing going around, so here is my almost-belated contribution to the fun. I hope you all enjoy. <3

ao3/ffn

grace coming out of the void

It’s Christmas Eve, and Killian asks, “What is this holiday even about?”

Emma pauses, her arm still extended as she fits Mary Margaret’s antique angel onto the top of the tree. “What do you mean? It’s Christmas.”

“So you’ve said,” he concurs, frowning at an ornament in the shape of a reindeer, complete with red glowing nose. “Though – I may be wrong – the last time I checked, I don’t believe we were celebrating deities in the form of snowmen or red-suited intruders.”

She can’t help but laugh at that. “They aren’t deities, they’re … icons.”

He helps her down the stepladder, a grin creasing his face. “The difference being?”

“The difference – being—” she stammers, trying to come up with a better answer than ‘it is what it is’, and she catches sight of her family – her mother in the kitchen preparing enough food to feed a small army, her father reading ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas to her brother, her son not-so-inconspicuously struggling with wrapping the last of her presents. She sees her family, all around her, and Killian right there with his hand warm against hers, waiting for an answer. “The difference being,” she says, with conviction, “that Christmas is so much more than that.”

“Then tell me, love. What is it about?”

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