FLORENCE CASTLE’S HEROES OF CYBERTRON - EP. 07: OPTIMUS PRIME (1)

Listen, I'm going to chew on Hazel, he isn't safe from me!

That being said, I imagine this lorge man is just *so* warm and cuddly. Could I ask for a warm cuddle sesh with him and his freeze baby S/O?

Thank you so much for the Hazard food, btw.

-Jaki 💖

Giant Heater

Hazard x Reader

A/S: Alright you lil PHREAKS it’s time for a cuddle sesh, we all need a lil aftercare after all :].

Summary: Lately it’s gotten colder than usual and what better way to warm up than to cuddle your giant human heater.

The chill in the air was relentless, a biting cold that seeped into your bones no matter how tightly you wrapped yourself in the blankets. Two layers deep, and it still felt like the cold was winning. Your breath puffed out in small, visible clouds, a stark reminder that winter had fully arrived.

The heater in your room groaned and sputtered, but it did little to fight off the icy grip of the night. Shivering, you pulled the blankets tighter around you and stared at the ceiling, debating your next move.

There was only one solution that made sense.

You tiptoed through the hall, careful not to make a sound, and found yourself standing outside Hazard’s door. Your fingers hesitated on the handle for a moment before you quietly opened it. The room was dark, save for the faint purple glow of a lava lamp on the bedside table. Hazard lay sprawled beneath a thick comforter, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

He looked peaceful, his sharp features softened in sleep, his usually intense presence muted by the quiet of the room. You hesitated again, feeling a pang of guilt for disturbing him, but another shiver wracked your body, urging you forward. You padded over to his bed and slid beneath the covers. The warmth was immediate, but not enough—so you scooted closer until your body was pressed against his.

He stirred almost instantly, a low, rumbling groan escaping his lips. His arm fell away from his face, and his sleepy, half-lidded eyes turned toward you.

“What’re ye doin’?” His voice was thick with sleep, the rich Scottish lilt making it sound softer than usual.

“Freezing” you mumbled, already nestling into him. Your arms wrapped around his waist as you pressed your face against his chest.

Hazard blinked, then huffed a low chuckle. “Ach, yer colder than a bloody snowstorm. Could’ve warned me, aye?” Despite the grumble in his tone, his arms moved to envelop you, pulling you even closer.

You murmured something incoherent, too focused on soaking up his warmth to respond properly. His chest rumbled against you as he let out another laugh, this one softer, almost affectionate.

“Ye’re like a wee cat, burrowin’ under the covers” he teased, his hand moving to rest on your back. “Next time, just get in. Don’t fash yersel’ about askin’.”

“Didn’t wanna bother you” you muttered, voice muffled against him.

“Bother? Ye’re daft if ye think cuddlin’ is a bother. Now quit wrigglin’ and let me get back tae sleep, sweet cheeks.” His arms tightened around you, trapping you snugly against him.

The heat of his body chased away the cold almost instantly, and you felt yourself relaxing, the tension in your muscles melting away. His fingers idly traced circles on your back as he mumbled, “Ye’re lucky I’m such a generous heater, aye?”

“Mm, very lucky” you agreed sleepily, already drifting off. You couldn’t see the way his gaze softened as he looked down at you, but it was there—clear adoration shining in his sleepy eyes. A small smile tugged at his lips as he watched you, your breathing evening out as the cold finally let you relax. Hazard’s chuckle was the last thing you heard before sleep claimed you, the sound warm and reassuring.

“Daft wee little thing” he muttered under his breath, his tone dripping with affection. “Can’t believe ye’d suffer alone when I’m right here.”

His arms tightened around you briefly before his own exhaustion began to claim him again. With one last glance at you—so small and peaceful in his embrace—he closed his eyes, his heart feeling impossibly full.

The world outside remained bitterly cold, but within Hazard’s arms, you found a warmth that nothing could touch. And as the two of you drifted off to sleep, it was clear he wouldn’t have traded this moment for anything.

Hi! Want to drop here some thoughts and headcanons about Hazard and Phreaks, bc I’m in love with new Overwatch’s anarchist fraction and their members ❤️ Some of hc based on info from interview with the story's screenwriter, and comic. And well it’s angsty a little and kinda +18 maybe? Idk

And yeah my english is bad. Sorry, I know that, but thanks for opportunity to practice it anyway lol

Hazard doesn’t like alcohol, His father was alcoholic, and when he and his father were left alone, Haz tried to somehow protest against his father’s addiction, but alcohol always won. So yeah, he hate it.

The relationship with father was one big curse for him. It's easier to say when they agreed with each other. Hazard’s father was alcoholic and workaholic at the same time, mb he tried his best as a parent, but most time Fin was forced to solve his childhood and teenage problems on his own.

Actually Hazard was never too problematic teenager. He was pretty good in technical subjects, math and physics. In my hc he wanted to be a technician or an analyst.

Music was one of the few things that lifted Hazard's spirit. He has a great ear for music and as a teenager he was a member of a band.

Well, this is my favorite: Haz calms down when he cleans up and do chores. He likes the feeling of cleanliness and gets mad when everything around him is dirty and not cleaned up. He always washes his dishes and throws away pizza or Thai food boxes. The rest of the Phreaks do it without enthusiasm.

I think that when Haz lived with his father, the latter did not care about cleaning, and Haz was embarrassed to invite someone, which made it difficult to establish relationships with people he liked. He did it on his own, and now Phreaks has their personal cleaner lol

About Haz body

Haz is touch starved, try to change my mind. His mother passed away too early and he didn’t receive enough love and attention, hugs and touches. It’s kinda torture for someone whose love language is touch. Add to this all his injuries and wounds. The system literally fucked him and expressed all its hatred towards Haz and his body.

Everyone was rather indifferent to his bodily suffering and pain. The doctors and nurses could only gloomily examine his injuries, without comments or expression of sympathy. Touch-Up was the first who treated Haz's body with attention.

During the first inspection in Touch-Up's medical cabinet, he had a pain attack. Touch-Up gave him some painkillers and stroked his cheek to wipe away his tears. This was the first show of genuine concern in a very long time. And it literally broke Haz in the best way. This was the first time he cried, not from pain only, but from the feeling that someone cared.

Hazard senses something parental about Touch-Up. He listens to her advice and carefully remembers what she says. And when he stated that he wanted to take revenge on the system and break it, Touch-Up explained to him in detail what she could offer him. This help was enough and even more.

The good news for him: all Phreaks are tactile but in their own way. Touch-Up is a medic cyberneticist, so she regularly examined his body - for her Haz is work material (not in a bad way ofc). But of course Touch-Up is tactile: she slaps Haz’s shoulder or chest, hugs his real arm or pat his cheek.

I think Jackdaw is the top hair expert among them. Jack cuts, styles and colors hair well. Previously, he only bleached his and Touch-Up's hair, but now he also bleached Haz's. And, of course, Haz loves it when Jack touches his hair, cuts it or dyes it (touch starved remember?).

Boomslang expresses tactility in her own friendly-rude way, like gives light slaps to the back of the head or flicks the nose, pulls on the shoulders (at least she did this when Hazard was without all his advanced implants and prostheses, now she can’t move Haz from his place lol).

Hazard actually has zero resistance for tickles and Boomslang likes to tease and make him embarrassed to death. When Touch-Up first started working with Haz's body, Boomslang constantly tried to make him laugh in every possible way. Boomslang said she is annoyed by his «depressive mug», but she only was very sympathetic to his hard experience.

Their relationship is reminiscent of that between an older brother and a younger sister.

You say omnics are not very tactile, BUT. Revel always protects Hazard in every fight. He never fully relies on Hazard's prosthetics, preferring to back him up and protect him in difficult situations. Revel calls this «foresight and rigor of calculation». For Revel, Hazard is not just a flesh, as for many omnics of a similar model.

And my cutie Susannah~ Whell she is great tattoo artist, we know that. So the way of expressing her love to Haz is engraving beautiful designs on his new cybernetic prosthetics. They both have a lot of peaceful hours when Susannah works and talks with Hazard about music, cybernetic innovations and some news. He has great memories about their get-togethers and Hazard's new steel part has been touched hehe.

I think it’s the first part of headcanons. Maybe will write more, but now I wanna sleep.

‘But what is grief, if not love persevering?’

WandaVision, 2021

- - - -

Originally created for @ss-shitstorm’s Fortuna Primigenia

Hey look it’s also in color

Ok ok, I was the one who just sent in the genji appreciation thingy and I have to request something but you can change it idc I love everything like I really do love everything and anything but pleasseee pleaaasee pre!fall genji with a female reader where he gets proposed to? like, like, flowers! romantic setting! just super corny, reader even got him a expensivs ring! but like, they don't know each other that well and reader just really really likes him even with his whole bad reputation aaaaaa BARK BARK ARF ARFF AWOOOOO

Holy shit this one took a while to come out, but here we are. I will get another one done this weekend if everything goes to plan- I will finish these requests, I promise you!

Thank you for requesting! Was a pleasure to write the soft boy!

Genji x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1061

Genji Shimada. The younger brother to Hanzo, a boy with no head, some would say. One could say he’s mischievous although fun, while one could say he’s immature, not suitable for leading or being within the Shimada Clan. 

You, however, didn’t see that. You didn’t see the playboy everyone called him, you saw someone having fun, someone enjoying their life as best they can considering the circumstances he was under. He was a boy you had your eyes on ever since you first saw him. Sure, the looks played a part in it, but his personality and fun nature drew you in further. You were lucky to get close to him one night, hands brushing against each other and you swore a spark was felt. 

Once he touched your hand, it was like a switch had been flicked. He practically dropped everything to get closer to you. There were no more drunken sex-crazed nights, no more playing around with other people. His focus was all on you. 

From then on, you and the boy would meet more often, slowly turning it into a daily thing. You would talk for hours on end, getting to know each other better. Your favourite places to go were the coffee shop and the park, spending hours upon hours within each others bubble. You would sit for hours, talking and laughing and it wasn't long after the frequent meetings that you became official partners. It was an afternoon you were going to remember for years to come; the sweet and rowdy boy was timid, fumbling over his words.

He was nervous and rightfully so when he asked you. He wasn’t entirely sure you felt the same way, but when you had exclaimed a loud ‘yes’, his ears perked up and a smile filled his entire face. His arms enveloped you in a tight, yet gentle embrace, hands stroking the small of your back as his face nuzzled into the side of your neck. 

From there on, date nights happened more frequently. Movie and takeout, Genji trying to beat you at any game whether that was in the arcade or at home, sometimes you’d just go for a simple walk around the parks, taking in the scenery. Genji would always look over at you, candid images of you saved within his memory, something he would always look back on. You were perfect for him. 

Everything was perfect.

You would always shower him in love and affection. From the small things such as gentle touching, kisses on the cheek or forehead when he wasn’t paying much attention. You’d find little gifts that you thought he’d like whenever you were out shopping, small gadgets, fidget toys that he could keep in his pocket, to the latest game he was raving about. 

He would thank you profusely, wondering what brought all this on. He had never felt this kind of love before, it was all new to him but he enjoyed it. Genji loved the affection, he loved the gifts, small and big and he felt as if he could never return that favour. Despite your protests, you never wanted anything in return and anything he did return was cherished just as much as he was. 

But then things changed for awhile and he got concerned, you became somewhat distant, conversations shortened and he panicked. He thought things were going south, but what brought it on he couldn’t figure out. 

Only when he came home from a family gathering did it all make sense. 

The living room lights were dimmed, candles were lit and there was a bouquet of roses on the table. Beside the flowers was a small note, one that he hesitantly picked up. Did I miss our anniversary? Is this the calm before the storm?

The look on his face when you entered the room was enough to make anxiety rise. You saw the panic within his eyes, but that quickly diminished the moment he looked you up and down. 

While wearing a more casual yet formal attire, you looked gorgeous. Genji felt his mouth open slightly as you approached him before his hands made their way to your hips, pulling you suddenly into a kiss.

Words were exchanged, ones of “I love you,” and “I need you,” passing between the pair of you as you seated on the sofa. Something is going on…

The ninja saw the hesitation, the way your cheeks flushed, eyes averting his and your hands staying behind your back. He was about to speak when you cut him off, hand holding his before sliding off the sofa, kneeling in front of him. 

His eyes widened slightly before he realised what was going on. You could feel his hand shake in your grasp as you removed your other hand from behind your back, showing him the ring seated in the leather box. A small, yet expensive silver ring seated between the padding sparkled under the candlelight.

“Genji Shimada-” you smile, “will you be my husband?” 

It’s like the temperature in the room heightened, a warmth spreading through both bodies before the ninja nodded his head, accepting the proposal. 

Sliding the ring onto his finger, he admired the metal before he pulls you up from the ground, arms wrapped tight around you as the box falls to the floor. He was gentle, yet his kisses were rough, hands roaming your back as he pulls you even closer to his body. He wasn’t wasting anytime as he picked you up, almost throwing you back down onto the sofa.

Hands tangled in hair, both his and yours, kisses shared between lips, tongues playing and exploring. Soft gasps and whimpers filled the room, and and exploration of each others bodies ensued. 

One night led to two, then to three… You and Genji were practically inseparable, more so now than ever; hands holding each others, fingers interlocking even within the warm weather of Hanamura. You didn’t want to leave his side, and he wasn’t ready to part from you either. 

Despite his family’s objection, he didn’t care. He was all for getting married with you. A partner in crime, he would say, kissing your forehead to dispel any worries or concerns. 

He was excited for what the future holds, and if it was anything like it was before, he was ready to love every single moment of it.

Mine - Part 1/2

In which Genji has to prove who you belong to.

tags (this part): protective! genji, possessive! genji, genji x reader, check next part for more tags

a/n: hi loves! i'm posting this in two parts as the POVs are slightly different. I'm also still writing part 2 as I want it to be absolutely perfect for you all, and I'm partially debating if I even want to post part 2 lol anyway!! i hope you all enjoy this!!

Genji is not somebody that loses control of his emotions. He always has them locked down. It’s one of the reasons he is so good at what he does. He’s able to turn himself off in a way that most people can’t. But it is also the reason that he is so damn frustrated. There’s one thing he can’t turn off, one person that demolishes his ability to control his emotions. You. 

The two of you have known each other for quite some time now. It’s hard to avoid somebody when you both live at Overwatch Headquarters. The building may be big, but the two of you always seemed to find each other. You’d had a fair amount of talks together, then one day you shocked him by inviting him to a movie night you were throwing with a couple of the other agents. He can still remember that night.

“Have you seen this one before?” You ask Genji, readjusting in your bean bag. He’s in the one next to you and glances over, his eyes taking in your entire form. The movie night was held in the training room, the floor to ceiling windows casting your frame in moonlight. 

“Nah, I don’t watch too many movies these days,” Genji replies. His eyes flutter to the screen where some horror movie plays. 

“How are you so calm? This is scary!” You say, pulling the blanket in your lap up higher. Genji doesn’t miss the way you lean a little closer to him now than you did while watching the first movie, which was a comedy. Part of Genji wants to say that he’s seen things, experienced things, scarier than anything that could be shown on a screen, but he can’t bring himself to dampen your mood. You are always so bright, and he doesn’t want to taint that. 

“I don’t-” he starts to say, but is cut off by a shrill noise from the screen. The killer jumps through a window and pins another victim, the jumpscare nearly making Genji jump in his seat. It takes a minute for his brain to realize it, but he feels your soft hair on his shoulder, and your ragged breaths against his neck. One of your hands is wrapped around his arm, clutching onto him. His hands twitch with the urge to hold you tighter, to run away any fear.

You start laughing softly, your face still buried in his neck. The soft sound and your touch brings goosebumps to his skin, and he longs to touch you. He gives in to that urge, just slightly, and places his hand atop yours. He squeezes it softly and he swears he hears a hitch in your breath, but you pull away. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, and Genji smiles, even if you can’t see it under the fabric mask he has on. Your cheeks are flushed pink, either from embarrassment or fear, and it makes Genji’s heart flip. 

That was a couple months ago, and Genji’s feelings shifted as time passed. He started longing for time spent with you. It’s the same now, but different. That longing transformed into a hunger, deep and insatiable. One he can feel in his bones, in his very soul, when he sees you. At first, he wrote it off as just being sexual desire, just a need, but he realized quickly that it was much more than that. Carnal urges were nothing compared to the hunger he had, still has, for you. 

Now, he has to watch as another agent flirts with you. Your bright smile and soft laugh shine through the large room, and Genji’s jaw ticks. That is a smile that should be his. Cassidy sits in the chair next to Genji and tries to ask him something, but Genji can’t focus on the conversation. Cassidy turns to follow Genji’s gaze, then sighs and shoots back the last of his whiskey. 

“You knew there was going to be flirting here tonight, Genji,” Cassidy says. It’s true. The sponsor evening was planned a long time ago, and while it is not meant for the agents, they are required to attend and often go home with each other. It’s one of the few times they’re all in the same area and able to openly socialize like this. 

“If he touches them one more time,  I’ll knock his teeth out,” Genji says through gritted teeth when the agent runs his hand down your arm. If he remembers correctly, the agent is named Gale. 

“Yeah, I’m sure that would go over well,” Cassidy grunts as he calls the bartender over for a refill. “Why don’t you just talk to them?” 

“It’s not that simple,” Genji shakes his head. He adjusts the suit he’s wearing until the shurikens tucked under his sleeve rattle. 

“No? And why is that?” Cassidy asks. He takes another sip from his now refilled glass. Genji’s eyes flick to the bar, debating ordering himself a drink. 

“One-sided shit never works,” Genji says and Cassidy barks out a harsh laugh. 

“One-sided? You’re so dense,” Cassidy starts. He turns and glances at you and then back again. “They’ve been stealing glances at you all night, even while talking with Gale.” 

“No-” Genji starts, his eyes darting to you. You are watching him, and a soft smile appears on your face when the two of you lock eyes. His heart dips at that smile, which is somehow completely different than the one you had been giving Gale. The two of you only keep eye contact for a few more seconds, then Gale steps in front of your gaze. 

“I thought somebody as observant as you would have noticed, Genji,” Cassidy says with a laugh. It appears that when it comes to you, Genji is different in every way. He’s utterly see-through and painfully dense, apparently. 

“Fuck you, Cassidy,” Genji says, ignoring the clear stab, and stands from his stool. Cassidy responds with a deep chuckle, then goes back to his whiskey. Genji starts to cross the large space, ignoring the few eyes watching him as he goes.He’s done watching you, not making a move. Done seeing others flirt with you. Done trying to be selfless. You’re his. You have been since that night in bean bags, even if neither of you knew it at the time. 

No more, little angel. You’re mine, and it’s time everybody knows that.

Back to my old bull again. And by that I mean trying to draw Transformers, realizing robots are still really hard for me to draw, giving up and going to the humanized redesign comfort zone. It’s fine, I’m fine, sharp angles aren’t for everybody and humanizations are great character design exercises, it’s fiiiine.

Beast Wars Maximals as humans! Optimus Primal, Rhinox, Rattrap, Cheetor, Dinobot, Tigatron, Airazor, Silverbolt and Depth Charge.

There’s more where this came from…

Dragon age protagonists and their love interests

Let Me Keep You

notes: genji x gender neutral s/o

written in: english, not adapted to any other language (2/06/2023)

genre: angst with comfort, happy ending.

additional details: s/o / reader will be a support character, abilities are similar to ana but with lucio’s mobility. healing is done in the form of bullets from two handguns.

the mission was meant to be relatively simple. it was a quick mission, get in and get out. blood stained their face, covering the concrete and their hands. gods, it was all over them. the blood and gore of a poor sniper lying on the ground, eyes lifeless and unseeing. their pistols laid on the ground, long since discarded as they had finished the kill. they had slaughtered this poor, poor person; all with their own hands.

white noise filled their head, static pitching in and out of their ears. they couldn’t hear anything, they couldn’t even see. the only thing they saw was that sniper who hadn’t had a single clue what was about to happen. a finger on the trigger, they hadn’t expected the attack, their rifle discarded as they fought for their life. (name) had never taken a life. despite working for a hospital turned vigilante, their foundation had been against slaughter.

crumbling to their knees, the medic clawed at their arms. blood that belonged to the long deceased covered their torso, their very face. they had taken the life of someone who had likely had children; kids who would wonder where their parent had gone. or perhaps, that sniper had been like them. a street urchin taken off the roads and forced to fight with a gun they never learned to use.

abruptly, a figure pulled them into their lap. a shriek erupted from their lips, tearing at the arms holding them so securely around the waist. yanking and clawing at those mechanical arms, it felt like they had been snatched up from the water they were drowning in. breathing raggedly, their eyes looked around the empty street, taking in the insignias of fallen talon soldiers and the overwatch members standing tall. the figure made no noise, only pulling their head to rest against their chest. the shocking cold of machinery helped to ground them, their desperate clawing slowly giving in to the embrace.

sobs emit from their chest, a guttural cry wanting so badly to just escape. “i didn’t- i swear, i swear- i didn’t kill them, i didn’t! i’m not a murderer, i promise-! i promise, i didn’t- i never meant to kill them!”

the arms around them remain there, but something cold gently pressed against the top of their head. the gentle humming of machinery seemed to lull them, warbling cries turning only to quiet murmurs. rambling phrases of guilt and horror slowly became silent. after a long while of gentle sniffles, they finally spoke, “what did you want to be when you grew up?”

it was a voice that the medic hadn’t expected. a gentle voice of a man long scorned, a thick accent covering each syllable. their hands rested atop his arms, quietly tracing the different cracks and scratches in the armor. they hesitated for a long moment, gathering their thoughts.

“i wanted to be a doctor,” they responded. a hum was what they got in response, though one of the arms slowly released them. taking one of their hands in his, he carefully runs a thumb over their knuckles. hands covered in blood, they tried to snatch their hand from him, only for his grip to tighten.

“tell me more. i want to know more about what you wanted. did you have a specific idea of what kind of doctor you wanted to be?”

they paused for a long while, watching as he carefully ran his thumb along their hand. after another minute, he pulled away, returning only with a small wipe. vaguely, they wondered if he carried them around just for this situation. was he, too, stained with the crimson ichor of others? running the wipe along their hands and arms, they slowly found the strength to speak. “i wanted to help people.”

“a noble cause, i see. am i right in assuming that you think it isn’t possible, now that you’ve taken your first life?” it felt magnetizing but appalling all the same. feeling so seen, yet by someone who’s face they’d never tried to look at. they glance up, meeting a fully metallic figure. a green visor replaced where his eyes would be, yet if possible, they could feel the gentle and genuine care he extended.

“you’d be correct. it would be difficult to save lives if you can just as easily take them.” a hum of understanding. the fingers of startling cold slowed, the wipe resting in his left hand. pausing for a long while, he gauged his words. “you are not irredeemable for taking a life. you may not have realized, but for taking it from them, you saved another’s. there are people down there that i am rather fond of… that would have been unable to escape the sniper.”

the silence was loud. as the man’s grip fell from their hand, it instead began to trace circles in their wrist. a gentle sigh escaped the visor, the front of it resting against the top of their head. “…if you would be open to it, i can make a recommendation to take you with us. with overwatch, i mean. there are people who can help you. who have helped me, even. i don’t doubt that you can forgive yourself with their aid.”

they stared forwards for a long moment, turning around in his grip to stare back at the people below the vantage point. overwatch soldiers helping to cover the dead, most even helping the civilians. they watch as a woman with brunette hair vanished for a second, reappearing cradling a child covered in dirt and grime. an omnic below them was helping to ease a woman’s sorrows, not touching her but instead speaking in words they couldn’t quite hear. their gaze locked with a man staring at them, dark eyes merely observing with something akin to pity and sympathy.

“…i’ll think on it. at least keep my name in mind though, at least until i’m ready for that recommendation.” their hand gently squeezed his arm, glancing up at him. he tilted his head, shoulders seeming to slump a bit. “of course, though i’d need that name to even bring you up.”

“(name), but i’ve been called miracle too by the foundation.” the man nods, contemplating for a long moment. with one more circle rubbed into the back of their hand, he stood, carefully settling them onto their feet once more. he backed away with a slight lingering touch. “should you ever find our headquarters and take me up on the offer, you may say that shimada genji recommended you.”

a nod, and he vanished. a piece of paper fell, caught between your fingertips. “find where the water and rocks meet, ever fighting and ever learning.” a riddle, then? this would prove to be fun, hopefully.

seeing him again was not something they expected. biding their time, sitting in the foundation and learning, they grew. they wouldn’t make the same mistakes as before, their mind and instincts sharpened. now, as they stood in the central part of kanezaka, they waited. just as they had been doing for the past six months, they waited amongst the shadows for the time to strike.

then, just as intended, the sky fell. machinery and mechanical whirling filled the air and the streets, destroying everything in sight. peeling themselves off the wall and ensuring their skates were in place, they smirked. their intel wasn’t ever wrong when it came to finishing up the omnic crisis. darting out from the alleyway, they skated ahead, peeling along the fronts of stores as they approached the army.

with a cry of war, they launched themselves forwards. their dual pistols blazing, they slipped in between attacks and falling parts. fighting omnics was something much more their style, the bloodshed being something that they’d never grow accustomed to. it was one thing destroying non-sentient omnics and another to slaughter people, after all. abruptly, their wrist was snatched. with a yelp, they were thrown through the air.

a pair of hands grabbed them around the waist, eerily familiar but ever present. the gentle questioning of a certain accent filled their ears. “do you typically get yourself into danger like this? i thought we learned from last time.” a laugh bubbled from their lips, patting one of his hands as he set them down.

“perhaps, but it’s fun regardless. do you typically follow me around in case i’m in some kind of trouble, mister shimada?” the stiffening of his shoulders served as their answer. with another laugh, they turned to the growing army of omnics. cracking their neck left and right, the medic straightened their back.

“i hope you all have room for another doctor on your team, dear.” a gentle rumble of surprised laughter. “then i certainly hope you can keep up, hanii.”

pettiness is a dish always best served hot; guardian x crow and cayde :)

after getting that ask about Cayde being a third-wheel in this situation, I just had to write something for the Wild Card mission :) I hope this is as funny as it is in my mind :D also on ao3

Cayde hates stake outs. 

Getting into the fray, guns blazing, is where his true approach lies. A knife here, a bullet there, everyone who should be dead is dead, and he gets to eat ramen right on the dinner clock. 

Yet here they are, former Hunter Vanguard, his little Guardian protege and their formerly of the Awoken royalty boyfriend. Slash killer. Slash no, not anymore. Slash, unsure. What a crew!

“Cayde, stop moving!” Crow chastises him, kicking him lightly in the shin. 

Cayde narrows his eyes but obliges by sitting down on the ground, watching Crow. Now that one was made for scouting. Patient to a Hunter appropriate degree, wicked with a sniper, if Cayde were to judge. Knows his stuff. And according to the few conversations they shared, not even mildly scared by bureaucracy. Good, Cayde thinks.

A multitude of feelings swarm inside him. Curiosity, jealousy, a little bit of anger for the spice. Resentment, pride, appreciation.

But above all those warm and fuzzy feelings, there is one more. One that Cayde has made sure to nurture over his long long life. One that feeds into his very psyche.

“Guardian?” Crow calls on the comms. “I have you in my sights. There is a swarm of Scorn approaching your location. Wait, what? Uh…”

Whatever the reply is, Cayde doesn’t get to hear as the channel switches to private but for a second. And so he gives in to that feeling instead.

A wave of playful and unyielding pettiness.

And so Cayde-6 forms a plan. 

***

They sit around a small fire, celebrating one of the many latest victories of their hunt. Crow reenacts a shoot-out with a horde of war beasts, accidentally sending one of the bottles flying at the wall, covering the rock side with rich red. The Guardian is laughing, while the two Ghosts watch with a mixture of disapproval and parental condescension. 

Crow thoughtfully rubs his nape and reaches for another wine bottle, offering it to the Guardian. But before the bottle can make contact, Cayde smiles and swipes it from Crow's hand. 

“Oh, that's my favourite!” he exclaims. “Not vintage enough, but that will do.”

He lets the cool liquid pour down his mechanical throat, watching from the corner of the eye as Crow can't find any more wine in their supplies. The Guardian is smiling at Crow's quiet frustration and reassures him that it's fine and they can transmat in some more if need be. Their hands brush against each other as Crow sits next to the Guardian, and Cayde wonders if they don’t see him notice.

“Good wine?” Crow asks with a mocking tone, to which Cayde wipes his mouth and sighs with great content.

“Good enough, kid.”

Crow huffs and turns his attention to stoking the fire.

A warm feeling spreads in Cayde's chest. He oh so loves being up to no good. 

***

In-between the many battles within the Pale Heart, they take a moment of respite to take care of their weapons and ammunition. The Guardian is trying to get screeb stuff out of their armour to no avail. Rookie mistake to run straight into the thick of the horde and serves them right.

Crow polishes the feather-etched barrel of his gun. Cayde watches, proud that the kid has already figured out the important business of having a signature gun. Cayde tucks away a thought about a signature cloak, one step a time, but that's a done deal. He's decided, it’s just that no one else needs to know for now. 

Cayde looks at his own weapon, the Ace of Spades glowing with Light through cracks. Shabby, but trusty. His thumb runs over the white spade. Even here in this strange version of the afterlife, a memory of something distant and unattainable is haunting him.

When he raises his eyes, he finds that Crow has joined the Guardian in a fruitless attempt to wipe off the Scorn ether, yet the more they both try, the more the stain seems to eat into the armour.

Lovebirds, Cayde thinks. Oh how the tables have turned.

***

The hunt for the ether-thieves goes on for a few more days. In that time Cayde thinks he and Crow have discussed every possible facet of things he would rather never talk about again. Good thing the kid is easily distracted with a healthy bit of competition, which they indulge in by shooting distant targets while the Guardian spots them both. 

At night they take turns to meditate and rest, another taking watch.

On one of the nights, Cayde wanders off from the camp. An excuse is easy, a strange noise nearby he wants to investigate, as if there isn't something strange happening every minute anyway. They are inside the Traveler, after all.

Cayde walks down a narrow trodden path and contemplates the ridiculous lip locking happening right around the corner. It doesn’t particularly bother him, but oh, amuse him it does. His favourite Guardian, all tangled up with this Crow. He wonders how it happened. Actually, he doesn’t, the more he thinks about it, the stranger it seems.

When Cayde makes it back to the camp, the kiss is still ongoing, with the two lovebirds none the wiser to his presence. Dangerous, could get shot like this, so they should be happy it’s just him.

Cayde pushes between the Guardian and Crow, plopping himself down on the ground. The Guardian is looking away flushed, while Crow crosses his arms.

“Found anything suspicious?” he asks, moving to make space.

“Nah, false alarm. There was this pair of love birds though…”

The Guardian chokes on a small hidden laugh.

***

“...that’s when Zavala punched him right. In. The. Face!”

As the Guardian laughs, Crow rubs his forehead with tired fingers. Cayde rummages through his memories to grapple onto a new story - and good thing that not all of them have to be true - when the Guardian stretches their arms. After a few pops, a glance at Crow and a ridiculously tired yawn, they begin to rise from the chair.

“Hold on, I’ve got one more!” Cayde exclaims. “Just one more, and off you go to see your sweet dreams. Promise!”

The Guardian sits right back, and Crow watches Cayde with eyes narrowed, only two brightly coloured irises glowing in the dark. He means to say something, and Cayde eggs him on with a prolonged pause, just to talk as Crow’s mouth opens.

“A-”

“Okay, there was this one time I sat in a bar, and in came a titan, a hunter and a warlock…”

One story turns into a couple more. A wine bottle is fished from the supplies, and the Guardian is doing all in their power to not let their eyes closed, when Cayde puts a final flourish on the story.

“And that’s why you don’t play cards with Ikora.”

“Good to know,” Crow says with an amused grin. “I think I’m going to catch some sleep. How… about you, Guardian?”

They rise from the chair and dust off their armour, even though it has now been made pristine.

As the Guardian heads to the tent, Crow turns to Cayde. Their eyes meet, some kind of momentary agreement or understanding. He doesn’t want to talk about it now, but he has learnt the importance of well-timed words. It may always be that you would not get a chance to say them.

“Come on,” Cayde ushers Crow with a flick of his hand. “Go get that sleep.”

Crow crosses his arms and arches his eyebrow.

“What, not another story? Or sleeping right in the middle of the tent like the last time?”

“Nope,” Cayde responds. “Let’s just say, I got my retaliation. Now go, shoo. The Guardian is going to fall asleep if you don’t get all cuddly and snuggly.”

Crow’s lips stretch into a wild grind.

“What in the Light’s name are those words?”

“No idea, hope I don’t get to repeat them ever again. Now go, kid. And… look after them, yeah? They are my favourite.”

Crow looks at the tent where the Guardian is fumbling with a light blanket.

“I will. They are my favourite, too.”

Nerd Out

Hazard x Reader

A/N: I made this as a thank you to @hackeraxe for drawing my silly lil Hazard piercing headcannons, I hope y’all enjoyed it as much as I did 👹✨

Summary: You got too excited over a project you’re working on

Your room was a controlled mess—keyboards, cables, and half-finished projects littered every available surface. Your desk was no exception, a graveyard of empty energy drink cans and open coding notebooks. You were hunched over your laptop, headphones slung around your neck, mumbling to yourself about predictive algorithms while the hum of your tower PC filled the room.

Hazard’s unmistakable Scottish brogue cut through your concentration like a knife. "Yer wee lair’s somethin’ else, ye ken?"

You jumped, spinning around in your chair to find him leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, smirking like he owned the place.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, half-exasperated and half-mortified. You swore you’d told him not to come over unannounced.

"I knocked" he said with a shrug, pushing off the doorframe and stepping inside. "Ye just didn’t hear me o’er all that techno wizardry o’ yers." He gestured to the chaos surrounding you. "So… what’s got ye so absorbed ye forgot tae eat lunch, eh?"

You bristled but couldn’t help the sheepish grin tugging at your lips. "I was busy."

"Aye, I can see that, So…" Hazard reached for the nearest circuit board, turning it over in his hands like he had the faintest idea what he was looking at. "Whit’s all this then? Some kinda computer surgery?"

"Hardly" you said, snatching the board from him before he could accidentally fry it with static. “I’m upgrading this bad boy. Needed more RAM, and the GPU was about as outdated as your jokes."

His hand flew to his chest in mock offense. "Oof, right tae the heart! My jokes are timeless, I’ll hae ye know."

"Sure, tough guy" you teased, sliding the panel off the PC case.

Hazard sat by a nearby chair beside you, his sharp amber eyes scanning the array of components like he was trying to make sense of a foreign language. "Alright then, clever clogs, tell me this: whit’s RAM, and why d’ye need more of it? Sounds like somethin’ tae dae wi’ sheep."

You groaned but couldn’t help the grin tugging at your lips. "RAM stands for Random Access Memory. It’s like your computer’s short-term memory. When you’re gaming, it temporarily stores all the data the system needs to access quickly, like loading textures or keeping the game running smoothly. More RAM means it can handle more tasks without slowing down."

Hazard tilted his head, considering. "So it’s like when I try tae remember where I put ma keys. Short-term stuff, aye?"

"Exactly!" you said, a little impressed. "And then there’s the CPU—central processing unit. That’s the brain-brain. It processes everything, from running the game to your random web searches. A faster CPU means better performance overall."

He squinted at the open case. "Alright, so RAM’s short-term memory, CPU’s the brain. Whit’s this GPU thing ye mentioned earlier?"

"The GPU—graphics processing unit—is like an artist. It handles all the visuals, rendering textures, lighting, shadows, and everything else you see on the screen. A good GPU is crucial for gaming, especially if you want high frame rates and sharp graphics."

Hazard gave a low whistle. "So the GPU makes it bonnie, the RAM keeps it runnin’, and the CPU keeps it all from fallin’ apart. Bloody hell, I didnae ken gaming was this complicated."

You laughed, setting the upgraded GPU into place. "It’s not that complicated once you get the hang of it. And when you know what each part does, you can pick the right specs for what you need. Like, if you want to play on ultra settings at 120 frames per second, you’ll need a strong GPU and a good CPU."

"Ye’ve got a sparkle in yer eye when ye talk aboot this stuff, ye know that?" Hazard’s voice had softened, and when you glanced at him, he was leaning on your desk, watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite read.

"I—what?" you stammered, suddenly hyper-aware of how animated you’d gotten.

He tilted his head, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips. "I mean it. Ye light up like a Christmas tree. It’s... adorable."

Your face went hot, and you immediately turned back to your pc, pretending to be busy. "It’s not adorable. It’s just... something I’m passionate about."

"Aye, and it’s grand tae see." He crouched beside your chair, resting his chin on one hand as he peered at your work. "But ye’re bloody brilliant, ye know that?" he said, his brogue thick and warm.

You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off with a crooked grin. "Nae use denyin’ it. I’ve never seen someone so chuffed aboot pcs before, an’ it’s kinda... charmmin’, if I’m honest."

"I, uh..." You felt your face heat up as you fiddled with a stray wire. "I guess I am."

"Dinnae stop now" he said, his voice teasing but gentle. "I’m learnin’ loads here. Plus, I like seein’ ye all excited. It’s... kinda adorable, tae be honest."

Your face went nuclear. "Hazard!" You groaned, hiding your face in your hands.

You peeked at him through your fingers, his teasing grin making it impossible not to smile back.

"Fine" you muttered, turning back to your work. "But if you’re going to stay, you’re not allowed to touch anything."

Hazard laughed, settling himself on the floor next to you. "Deal. Now, keep goin’. Tell me more about this sheep thingy."

Still hiding your face in your hands, you couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto your lips. With a deep breath, you picked up where you left off, explaining the intricacies of the motherboard while Hazard listened intently, his eyes never leaving you.

And maybe—just maybe—you let yourself believe that he wasn’t just fascinated by the gaming specs. Maybe he was fascinated by you.