#my body may b falling apart but you cannot stop my chaotic little mind apparently

[luciana-silentstar]

I decided because I love suffering that everyone gets their own halter.

[lyricalt]

[ovw] Destiny AU - take you out

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @irlwolves!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Here’s a little mcgenji destiny au.

The match begins without much fanfare at Firebase Delphi, rocky ground kicking up dust as both fireteams land on their feet in unison.  Less than a minute later, Genji takes first blood with even less flair, leaving the unfortunate enemy warlock to spawn elsewhere.  He leaves the rest of his team behind at Zone A—per his usual strategy when it comes to Zone Control, but he finds himself hurrying faster than normal, just the tiniest bit impatient to rush ahead to middle ground.

He had taken a quick glance at the teams’ rosters beforehand, so it comes as no huge surprise to him when he runs into McCree at Zone B.

“Fancy meeting you here,” McCree says, tipping an imaginary hat as his gunslinger’s cloak flutters behind him.  The circle of light around them blinks, HUDs showing that Fireteams Alpha and Bravo are both supposedly contesting for Zone B.

Thankfully there isn’t anyone yet to witness the two of them standing around.  Genji can practically hear Shaxx grinding his teeth in frustration.

I should just shoot him, Genji thinks wryly—but he’s got a sharp knife and a good sense of humor this round, so there’s no use wasting either of them.  He draws out his blade and lunges at McCree.

“A shame Shaxx decided to keep us apart,” Genji says, voice brightening when the barrel of McCree’s pistol connects with his knife to block it.  The metal clash shocks his hand but doesn’t slacken his grip.  A small shift to change the angle of the blade would have freed them both, but Genji only pushes forward, goading on a deadlock between their weapons.

And McCree doesn’t give an inch so much as lean closer to him in return.  Genji’s knife comes dangerously close to his neck, sharp point almost nicking at the lower edge of his helmet.

“Oh, us being on the same team would’ve been unfair,” McCree says, unbothered by the possibility of getting his throat sliced.  The gun in his hand shakes a moment from the strain. “But hey, after this match, how ‘bout I take you somewhere nice?”

Genji’s answer is immediate.  “No.  I’m on a Vanguard streak. I have Crucible bounties.”

“I’ll show you around Mars,” McCree adds, as if to sweeten the deal.  He pushes back with his gun, index finger sliding to the trigger.

“I’ve seen Mars,” Genji replies.  If he had eyebrows, he would have raised one of them.  “We are on Mars right now.”

“The parts that aren’t the Crucible. And without Cabal.”

Genji tilts his head to the side, considering.  The sand dunes had made for some interesting sparrow jumps at times, but that’s the only good thing about Mars Genji could say from the top of his head. In his opinion, one orange desert landscape is as good as any other.

“If you win this match,” Genji says, after a moment.  A Vanguard streak isn’t something he’s willing to forfeit so easily, after all.  “If you win, I’ll go.”

He can hear the grin in McCree’s voice, picking up the implication fast.

“And if I lose?” McCree asks in a low murmur, like he cannot wait to hear the answer.

“We’ll have a date on Venus instead.”

McCree pauses, voicelink cutting off for a quick second.  When he replies, there is an impressive amount of forced enthusiasm in his tone; “Oh, that ain’t no real punishment. So long as it’s a date with you, sugar.”

It’s almost charming, if not completely sincere. Genji laughs, unable to help himself.  “Have you checked the weather there? It’s storming. Acid rain on both hemispheres.”

McCree seems to mull over his own response before drawing out his own knife to take a swipe at Genji.  The feint is enough to make Genji hop back, but not before McCree’s pistol fires deep into his shoulder—and Genji suspects that vicious move may have been partially motivated by reasons less than charming.  

“Aw, hell,” McCree says, over the sound of his gun reloading, “I better not lose then, huh?”

Genji’s armor blinks a critical red.  McCree is a second away from finishing his reload and Genji’s no longer within knife range to do any damage.  There’s always his pulse rifle, but Genji opts for the pettier route and simply throws down his grenade between them.

And apparently he isn’t the only one to have the same idea.  Three more grenades join his in Zone B and Genji has enough time to feel exasperated—there’s half his fireteam, along with McCree’s as well.

“About time they showed up,” McCree says, echoing Genji’s thoughts.

Genji would have spoken, but the nature of demolitions takes its course and he supposes he’ll have to wait until after revival to reply.

Genji doesn’t run into McCree again for a few cycles.  If he hadn’t known any better, he would have suspected McCree was avoiding him, but a quick peek at the scoreboards show McCree is busy in his own right, either capturing zones or killing the other members of Genji’s team.

Meanwhile, Genji is collecting a fair amount of medals—a continuous stream of the usual icons appearing in the corner of his vision.  He runs around the corner, shooting down an enemy titan along the way before his radar shows a ping of red to his right side.  Without a second thought, he switches directions to hunt down his next target.

“You know we are playing Zone Control, right?” Ryuu says after a moment of running.

“Zones won’t matter if I have enough kills,” Genji says, checking the scoreboard again with a flicker from his HUD.  Alpha team is ahead by a few hundred of points with him as the top scorer. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, but his Ghost apparently senses something amiss.

“I advise against this strategy,” Ryuu says, as blunt as he is helpful.  

“You’ve never advised against it before,” Genji notes, and skitters to a stop when he spies a familiar red cloak and hand cannon pointed his way.

Ryuu falls silent, and Genji would never accuse his own Ghost of conspiring against him, but it seems like a near thing at this point.  

McCree’s first shot misses him, though Genji has no doubt the bullet would have landed if he hadn’t Blinked away.  The second shot does hit, a shock of pain driving Genji to move faster rather than stagger.  McCree’s trigger finger is quick, but it doesn’t make up for his slower movements.  Genji’s footwork to move around him is automatic, pathway almost a calculated circle.  He drives his knife into McCree’s back, invisibility device activating as the blade bites deep.

Genji backs up, footsteps light and soft to conceal his presence.  He has half a mind to taunt, but to his surprise, McCree takes off in a hasty retreat, bounding off through the plasteel doors.

Genji’s cloaking device fizzes out, leaving him in an empty room as the doors hiss close.  Less than half a minute later, Bravo Team captures Zone C.

“He gets it,” says Ryuu with a clear note of approval.

Genji shrugs.

“Don’t get angry just because he isn’t chasing after you for the entire match.”

Genji turns his head, expecting his Ghost to be hovering over his shoulder.  Upon finding the spot empty, he gives the air a swat anyway.

“No more advice from you,” he says.

Genji finds himself being approached by the enemy team in groups of two or three.  Normally, he wouldn’t have a problem with it—he would have gladly pitted himself against the entirety of Bravo Team by himself, but after his last three deaths under enemy fire, he finds it all a little bit too deliberate for random happenstance.

He wouldn’t have called it being ambushed—there’s no way, not in Crucible—but his suspicion doubles when he corners McCree beneath a rocky outcrop over dusty orange sand.

“One would think you weren’t trying,” says Genji, risking an open voicelink. He’s gotten McCree’s armor down to nearly nothing.  One more shot and McCree will be reviving on the other side of the base.  Alpha Team is still leading by a good number of points.  

McCree’s voice patches into his audio sensors, breathless.  “You underestimate how badly I want a night out with ya.”

“Try harder then,” Genji says, taking the shot, and McCree’s Ghost springs from his body.

When he turns around, half of Bravo Team is waiting for him with weapons that look like a good combination of rocket launchers and machine guns.

“Oh,” says Genji.

The alarms haven’t stopped blaring into Genji’s helmet for what seems like too long.  He doesn’t know when it happens, but Bravo Team shifts from chaotic carnage to organized killing and capturing.  Genji thinks McCree may be barking orders to his own team, which is a strange concept.  He knows McCree has a certain unwillingness for leadership, though he has on occasion seen McCree pick up the role when needed.  He isn’t quite sure how McCree is doing it, but time and time again, Genji becomes outflanked by two or more enemy guardians.  

It’s maddening, but also a little flattering.  

“They’ve got them all, Guardian,” Shaxx announces as Bravo Team’s score makes a leaping jump past Alpha’s.

Genji turns his head.  He isn’t surprised to see Ryuu floating over his shoulder this time, somehow looking as smug as a Ghost can be.  

“I think I see your point,” Genji admits.

Ryuu offers one last piece of advice; “Then get on the point, Genji.”

They meet again at Zone B, though the rest of Firebase Delphi is now empty, awaiting the next match between a new set of teams.  McCree stands beneath the zone’s banner, Bravo’s emblem waving over him.

Genji’s Ghost has seen fit to respawn him near McCree.  He lands on his feet and slings an arm around McCree’s waist, drawing him in.

“Zone Control isn’t my favorite,” Genji says, tipping his head back to look up at him. “But a loss is a loss, I suppose.”

“You sure as hell didn’t make it easy for me,” McCree replies with a huff, but he sounds pleased.  “Guess I’ll have to beat you in some other Crucible game.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Genji says, a little ruffled, but the feeling passes itself quickly as McCree’s helmet tilts to tap against his.  He reaches over to pat the dust from McCree’s cloak, which is looking more orange than red. It’s a futile gesture.  He’s sure they’ll both be up in dust again soon enough, considering he’ll be staying on Mars for the time being.

They start walking off from Zone B, McCree taking the lead to hop over the rocky ridge surrounding the edge of base. Genji follows after him.

When they get to the top, Genji is treated to Mars’ familiar sandy landscape and burning overhead sun.  He dims his visual settings, seconds away from making a smart comment, something about the weather on Venus being preferable.

But McCree grabs his hand, his gaze looking at some point beyond the endless orange dunes.  His grip tightens, excitement somehow emitting through his unseen Light, bright solar energy matching Mars.  

“I could do without the ridiculous wagers next time,” Genji says, staring despite himself.  

“Deal,” McCree says, turning to him with a laugh.  “C’mon. I’ll show you around.”

And Mars is beginning to look nicer already.