When Jaal's family is taken by the Roekaar, he asks Bridget to trust him. That's not the problem. Trusting Jaal is as easy as breathing. What isn't so easy is watching as a madman nearly kills the man who has stolen her heart.
AO3 Link
Bridget can’t think. She can’t breathe.
All she can think about is how horribly wrong things have gone.
When Jaal desperately begs for her aid, explaining that Akksul has recruited his siblings into the Roekaar, she agrees to help without hesitation.
When they come across said siblings on the battlefield, and they begin bearing down on her with insults, she tries her best to keep her cool. Even as they tower over her and spout that she’d be better off dead, she doesn’t retort. She doesn’t want to feed into Akksul’s poisonous beliefs about her kind.
Even when Lathoul is shot and tells them of the bombs that have been planted, she doesn’t lose her focus. She remains fixed on her goal.
It isn’t until they reach the Forge proper that things begin to spiral.
Once they disarm the bombs, Teviint runs to Jaal, clinging to him like the scared child she is. “I killed Lathoul! I killed him. I’m so sorry.”
Bridget stares at her in concern. This girl can’t be more than a teenager, and yet Akksul is using her as a weapon, twisting her confusion into a tool for his hatred.
Jaal, however, is less sympathetic. He stares down at her coldly, not offering a hint of comfort. “He’s not dead. You’re lucky”
She looks up at him, her expression so lost and afraid. “I lost my mind, Jaal. I want to go home.”
“But the cause!” Baranjj protests. “I joined because of you!”
“I shot our brother,” Teviint counters, looking at him as though he grew a second head.
He looks down in uncertainty, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He seems just as scared and anxious as his sister. Looking back to her, he says, “Don’t leave me-”
“Let her go.” He is cut off by Akksul appearing from the shadows, stalking forward like a villain. “I only want soldiers who are committed to our cause.” His icy gaze turns to Bridget and Jaal and he sneers, “Not weaklings who stand by and watch the destruction of our people at the hands of aliens.”
More Roekaar filter in from the upper level of the Forge, their weapons all trained on their little group. Akksul stands proudly, assured in his upper hand.
Teviint seems to shrink back, hiding behind Jaal. Baranjj also tries to make himself smaller, pulling into himself. Bridget feels herself bristle in anger. “You recruit kids and make them fight their families,” she spits, glaring at the Roekaar leader. “It’s sick and so are you.”
Akksul seems unbothered by her accusations. Stepping forward, he says assuredly, “I speak for our people and I say you’re done in Heleus.”
He raises a hand to gesture towards Bridget and she instinctively lifts her rifle, aiming at him. Simultaneously, Jaal warns her not to, but Akksul is already grinning.
Chuckling maliciously, he leans into her personal space, the barrel of the gun pressing against his chest. “Martyr me.” He urges. “Please. I dare you.”
Bridget stares him down, hissing out an exhale. Jaal had asked her to trust him on this mission, to follow his lead. And killing Akksul certainly wouldn’t plead a great case for her, especially considering his followers still have their weapons trained on her.
Everything about him infuriates her. But she somehow remains calm.
“I made a promise to my friend that you’re making really hard to keep,” she growls.
His smile falls, and he stares at her in frustration for a long while before turning his attention back to his followers.
“They move onto our planets. They they take our resources, make us weak!”
“I’ve watched Ryder make planets habitable!” Jaal appeals to the angara, his voice impatient but resolute.
“Exactly!” Akksul retorts. “And they’ll never let us forget it.”
“She rescued your beloved Moshae!” Jaal interrupts, and it has the Roekaar leader pausing.
“I know,” he admits quietly, spurring his supporters to look at one another in uncertainty.
“Saved. Her. Life,” Jaal continues, his words punctuated and strong.
“I know, stop defending them!” Akksul says indignantly, beginning to sound like an annoyed child.
Not paying him any mind, Jaal attempts to keep going. “The Moshae trusts Ryder, and-”
“Stop.”
Akksul cuts him off by aiming his gun at Jaal, clearly threatened that he’s losing control of the situation.
Jaal looks at him warily, taking a half step back and raising his hands defensively.
“We’ve been fighting the wrong enemy,” Akksul rambles. “Maybe the enemy is this traitor!”
Lowering his hands, Jaal stares him down resolutely, muttering a quiet warning, “Easy…”
Panicked, Bridget raises her gun to Akksul once more, looking at her angaran companion in distress. “Jaal?”
She hates that her voice sounds so small.
God, what is she supposed to do here? Akksul is clearly crazy. He claims to want to protect the angara, but here he is threatening to kill one of his own. She’s not about to let him take Jaal’s life. And yet, as has already been established, shooting him is off the table, too…
“Don’t!” Jaal warns, sparing her a glance and a careful gesture, his eyes pleading with her. Trust me, they say.
She does. Of course she does. It’s Akksul she doesn’t trust.
Turning his full attention back to the man before him, Jaal’s gaze hardens. “The Moshae trusts Ryder. You’ve become a danger to your own people,” he utters lowly. “Walk away.”
Reason isn’t reaching Akksul, though. Gritting his teeth, he retorts, “Or…I kill you and reveal the Resistance for the traitors they are!”
He pulls the trigger and a sharp, panicked scream tears itself from Bridget’s throat. If everyone’s attention wasn’t focused on Akksul and Jaal, she’s sure she’d be getting looks for the anguished sound she just made. But that isn’t at the forefront of her mind right now.
Jaal’s dead. He’s dead and she did nothing to stop it. She’s trembling uncontrollably, her gun still pointed at Akksul, but she’s frozen in place.
She wants to kill him. Wants to make him pay for killing the man she was easily falling in love with. He deserves it. But as desperate as she feels right now, she made a promise to Jaal…and she’s not about to break it now.
A pained groan draws her attention and her gaze immediately snaps in its direction.
It can’t be…
Akksul missed. He was at point-blank range and he somehow managed to miss. The bullet grazed Jaal’s cheek, leaving a small, shallow cut in its place. Blood trickles down his face as he stares Akksul down unwaveringly.
Bridget wants to cry with relief. To hold him close and reaffirm that he’s okay. But she can’t quite get over the shock of thinking he was lost to her, no matter how brief.
Everyone gapes at the scene in utter awe and disbelief.
Jaal has commanded the attention of the entire Forge, and rightfully so.
Akksul looks up at his followers, a lost, uncertain expression on his face. The Roekaar begin to filter out, shaking their heads in disgust as they do.
Staring Akksul down, Jaal carries a powerful weight to his gaze.
“The alien is not the monster here,” he declares with conviction.
Akksul does not answer right away. His focus is on the angara turning their backs on him. “I love my people…” he utters quietly, looking down in defeat.
Bridget believes it. Unfortunately, his heart has been poisoned and twisted beyond recognition. She wonders what he might have been like had he not been captured by the kett. Despite all the hurt he’s caused, she pities him in that moment.
Jaal does not deign to respond to him, but he seems to come to the same conclusion as Bridget. After a long moment of staring at his former classmate, he turns to his siblings and says, “Come on…let’s get you home.”
Following quietly, Bridgets walks slightly behind him. She glances up at Jaal, noticing the trail of torn flesh that had been carved by the bullet, blue trickling lightly from the edges. She can’t believe how close he came to dying. Any closer to the right and he would have been gone from her life entirely. Hell, it’s a miracle the bullet didn’t hit his cowl either. She’s not terribly familiar with angaran anatomy, but she’s certain there must be vital blood vessels there. The fact that he stands before her relatively unscathed is astronomical.
The blood that had begun pooling at the edge of his wound spills over slightly, running down his cheek. She reaches out, but stops short of touching him. “You okay…?”she asks quietly.
He spares her a glance before saying, “Yeah, thanks…” before letting out a strained grunt, a wince pulling at his lips.
They make there way back in relative silence. On the shuttle, Bridget can’t help but stare at Jaal the whole way, a sense of numbness overcoming her.
A bandage now rests over his injured cheek, but it didn’t make her feel any better.
He almost died. He almost died and she almost let it happen. Granted, she knows that shooting Akksul would have been a terrible idea, but she just can’t stop thinking about it. She cares about Jaal more than she ever thought possible. At this point, it’s more than a silly crush. Even though she knows he doesn’t return her feelings, the thought of losing him…Of never again getting to tease him about idioms or spend time working on projects together…It tears her heart apart.
She can feel Vetra’s eyes on her throughout the ride back, but her companion remains silent, for which she is grateful.
At some point, they land back where they started, Teviint apologizing to Lathoul and the mothers coming to reunite with their lost children. Jaal gently puts his hand on her shoulder and guides her to the side. She follows, her gaze still hollow and empty. She’s barely processed anything since Akksul fired his pistol.
“Thank you for trusting me,” Jaal tells her, looking out over the landscape. “Killing Akksul would have made the Roekaar stronger.”
He’s so calm. Too calm. Infuriatingly calm. He’d almost died for fuck’s sake!
It’s enough to snap Bridget out of her apathy. “He shot you,”she says, bitter.
“I’m glad he did. It exposed how far he’d fallen.”
Even still, he remains composed and collected. He even smiles.
Bridget stares at him in disbelief. “Jaal, you were this close to dying back there! Do you have any idea how risky that was?!”
He has the audacity to chuckle at her and she bristles.
“It all worked out, didn’t it? A little risk was worth it, I’d say.”
She can’t believe it. Here she is, tearing herself apart with worry and he has the gall to think her reaction is amusing.
“You idiot!” she cries, banging her fist against his chest. “You think it’s funny that you almost had your brains blown out?” She hits him again, and he takes small steps back with each advance, staring down at her with wide, surprised eyes.
“Is your life that meaningless to you?” she continues, tears beginning to form. “Or am I just stupid for daring to care that I might lose you?!”
Bridget stops assaulting his chest, though her fists still rest there, trembling. Her gaze has fallen to the ground and she shuts her eyes tightly, the tears now falling freely. Her frame shakes as sobs begin to wrack her body.
He instantly pulls her close to him, cradling her in his embrace.
She does her best to suppress her crying, though it takes her a minute. The desperate kiss he presses against the crown of her head makes it even more difficult to pull herself together, but eventually, she calms down enough to speak.
“I was really worried…” she ends up whispering, her voice somewhat hoarse.
Jaal pulls back just enough to look her in the eyes. His expression is pained, his brows drawn together in worry. Gently, he lifts a hand to wipe her tears, his thumb drawing careful arcs across her cheek.
Carefully, he pulls her forehead to his, and they both close their eyes as they lean into each other. “It will heal,” he murmurs. “All scars do.”
She sniffles slightly, her arms pulling Jaal into as tight of a hug as she can, though his bulky torso makes it impossible for her embrace to completely encircle him.
“I apologize for worrying you…” he says quietly, one hand absently petting her hair.
She doesn’t respond, just pulls him even closer.
They stay like that for a long while, and when they do part, he makes sure to plant another feather light kiss atop her head.
Bridget looks up at him, her expression full of confusion and longing. He softly trails his hand down the side of her face. He stares at her for an achingly long time before clearing his throat and stepping back. She misses his warmth immediately.
“We should get back…” he says, looking back towards the others. “I want to say goodbye before my family heads home.”
Absently, she nods, watching as he heads over.
She tries not to focus on the kisses or the gentle touches. Jaal is a naturally affectionate person. He was just comforting her. It doesn’t mean anything more. Thinking that it might…that’s just setting herself up for more hurt. She doesn’t need to do that to herself.
At least he’s alive. She can cling to that.
Sighing, she gradually makes her way back to the group.
She pushes her longing down. Far enough away where she can try to forget that he’s captured her heart so thoroughly.
——
So I haven't written anything in over 3 years...but I have an actual excuse this time. Long story short, cancer sucks. (Don't worry, I'm not in danger of dying, but having chronic pain the last few years honestly hasn't been much better...)
In any case, I've really missed writing and finally found the inspiration to finish this after starting it years ago. I have a few more projects I hope to work on, though I can't say how many more of them will be Andromeda related.
Everything feels better when Genji is with you.
( genji shimada x gender-neutral reader | ~0.8k words )
content: emotional hurt/comfort, some fluff, established relationship (can be read as either romantic or platonic, whichever you’d prefer :)) genji loves u <3
etc: divider by cafekitsune; tagging @angelshub @bitchcraftinc @enchantedforest-network @ghostqueue; cross-posted on ao3
“I have not seen you around recently.”
You look up to find Genji leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. Quite some time has passed since you first met him. If you were younger, you would’ve jumped out of your skin at his unexpected arrival, but you didn’t. Instead, you didn’t bat an eye, far too jaded to be surprised by anything anymore.
“I’ve been busy,” you say.
Your words feel practised, dishonest, though they aren’t entirely false. Between the increasing Null Sector attacks and the pressure Soldier: 76 has been putting on you, time has felt like it’s been slipping out of your hands. You wish you could be as uplifting as Lena, or maybe as relaxed as Cassidy. It’s never been in your nature to relax, you suppose, having been raised in a disciplinarian family. Yet here you are, curled up in your blankets as you wallow in self-pity, looking the most pathetic you ever have in front of him.
He doesn’t seem bothered by it, something you can’t decide whether to feel thankful or upset about. Guilt begins to seep into your system as he takes a seat on the edge of your bed. As if he can sense your spiral into pessimism—he probably can, he’s known you for long enough—he laces his fingers with yours, the metal cool against your skin.
A beat of silence passes.
“Genji?”
He hums, waiting for you to continue.
“I’m sorry.”
You don’t like him seeing you in such a state. Genji caresses the back of your hand with his thumb, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. It’s hard to discern what he’s thinking. He’s been keeping his mask on more frequently, just out of habit, but a part of you wishes you could just see his eyes on you one more time.
“I know you didn’t mean to ignore me,” he speaks up, turning his head in your direction. “But I have missed you. That’s why I came here.”
You manage a weak smile. “I missed you too.”
“Cassidy has been asking for you as well.” There’s an amused lilt in his voice. “He said it’s sad not having his favourite sharpshooter around.”
That gets a chuckle out of you. “His favourite sharpshooter?”
“Yes. And mine too.”
Heat rises to your cheeks at how easily he says it. The fact that he’s holding your hand isn’t helping much, either. Still, it amazes you how a simple two words can make you feel the lightest you’ve ever been. You missed this. You missed him.
“Don’t say it like that,” you mumble, flustered. “I’m trying to mope, Genji.”
“I am not allowing it.” He lets go of your hand and you’re already missing his touch, your bottom lips slightly jutting into a pout at his sudden movement. It doesn’t last long, though, now that he’s shifted his position so he’s laying his head on your lap. “And I was only telling the truth.”
“Shut up.” There’s no actual malice in your words. Even without your other hand coming down to cup the side of his face, you think he knows that very well too. “You can’t just come in here and get me all soft and mushy, you know. You’re so mean.”
“I am mean?” he retorts in mock offence. “I tell you that I miss you, but I am mean.”
“Yeah. The meanest.” You giggle, bringing his hand up to your lips to press a gentle kiss on it. With a pleased sigh, you feel your worries ebb away and let yourself sink into the comfort he brings you. “I’ll probably come back tomorrow. I’m feeling better anyway—”
“You will come see me first, yes?”
You playfully nudge his head away, avoiding his gaze again because somehow it’s like second nature for him to make you feel this way. Like you’re a blushing protagonist of a romance story. In a last ditch attempt to keep your cool, you clear your throat and say in the most deadpan tone you can muster.
“Actually, I think I’ll see Winston first.”
“You would prefer him over me?” You can practically hear him sulking. “And you say that I am mean.”
You find yourself smiling at how natural it feels to fall back into this kind of rhythm with him despite all your setbacks and isolation. It makes your heart swell in joy, being cared for and understood by someone like him.
“Hey, get up,” you urge him gently. He does so without question, though he still tilts his head at you curiously. You scoot forward, finally leaving the mass of blankets to throw yourself in his arms, pressing a kiss to where his cheek would be. “I love you, Genji.”
He lets out a content sigh. “I love you too. You don’t have to push yourself so hard.”
You fall into a comfortable silence. In the embrace of the one you love, you’re slowly lulled to a peaceful slumber until he speaks up again, this time sounding genuinely concerned.
“But you will come see me first tomorrow, right?”
Your laughter is all he hears.
“Meet me at the bar. I’m buying.”
Hey losers it’s like 3 am and I’m gonna write cause I can (“cause fuck you that’s why.”) I was thinking about this with a different character from a different fandom but I’m here with blackwatch age Genji. So…
~Nox
You took a deep breath and rolled over determined to get some sleep. But just as your heart settled down anxiety busted down your door and now you were wide awake. You sat up in your bed and took a look around at the shadows that made your mind swim even more.
You got up, grabbed a blanket and headed to the common area of the Blackwatch Headquarters. There you could watch tv and try to fall asleep on the couch.
After a few long episodes of a show you weren’t invested in a small cough drew you attention to the figure leaning over the back of the couch.
“You’re up late Y/n” His voice was quite.
“I could say the same for you.”
He walked around to sit where your head was laying.
“May I?”
You sat up and let him take the place of your pillow. His bionic legs were unarmored and covered by his lose sweats. His soft red eyes looked down at you, he never really looked this vulnerable. He started slowly running his fingers through your hair and the motion made sleep seem closer than ever.
“So why are you up y/n?”
“My mind wouldn’t shut up. How about you?”
“I can’t really sleep anymore.”
“I’m sorry.”
He didn’t say anything more he just kept stoking your hair. His free hand found your side and he softly started massaging. You had to think of a way to return the favor at a later date but right now sleep called your name.
“Thank you Genji.”
You barely got out before you fell asleep on his lap.
~Nox
Just Silver
• As a child, it was very difficult for him to take control of his physic powers and often caused unintentional messes; this led to his family cutting him off.
• Even if he learned to enhance his abilities as he grew older, occasional outbursts were still common. Luckily a tech friend built the bracelets to keep them intact.
• In the future, there are legends about an unstoppable hero who would always save the world with his speed and endless optimism (his name was lost through time) . Silver grew up with these stories and was inspired to be like a hero too.
• The Silver which has been seen since ‘Rivals’ isn’t the same Silver from 06; he can be more calmer and doesn’t go straight to killing his foes. However, his urge for justice is still somewhat there.
• Oddly enough, Silver has met some of his friends’ descendants before. How does he know this? Either with similar looks or the families praising their ancestors as old-time heroes.
• His favourite subject to study is history, which explains his fascination for what the past was like and how he stays there for some time after helping to save it.
Silver and Blaze
• Silver doesn’t usually talk about his troubles that much, not even to his friends, but Blaze is different. She’s mature for her age like him and is a good listener.
• He’s gotten to know both Cream and Marine pretty well thanks to Blaze; from the rabbit inviting them both for tea to Blaze allowing the raccoon to visit Sonic’s dimension once.
• Whenever Silver feels afraid to return back to his time due to possible resets (this doesn’t happen often) Blaze allows him to rest in her dimension for a short while. Another chance to meet Marine as well.
• Together with his psychokinesis and her pyrokinesis, they can be the most unstoppable duo together - possibly pass the ultimate lifeform himself.
• Despite them meeting for the first time in Sweet Mountain, they have his deep feeling of something familiar about each other. They’re confused about this, but they feel safe around one another, and work greatly in battle. Hopefully someday they’ll find the answer.
“ Be their hero… Be their monument, be their angel, be anything they need you to be. Or be none of it. You don’t owe this world a thing. You never did. “
- Martha Kent form Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice
DO NOT REMOVE CAPTION
"Take it easy out there, will ya? You’re making me look bad." >"What, may we ask, were you going to do with a Vex teleporter?" "Get up close and personal with Ghaul, Put a bullet in his head. The maybe eat a sandwich. Gotta work on a few kinks first. Fun fact about Vex tech; not as intuitive as you would think." >"Cayde, you can’t do this alone." "The hell I can’t." - Cayde-6 to Ghost
Some more gijinkas cause I got 'em on the brain
Baby, I'm Yours
A/N: Ive been listening to this song for a while due to a hazard edit that I found on tik tok and it just has been eating at my brain. AND I also wanted to test out on writing out his accent just for one fic though.
Summary: Hazard has something on his mind that he wants to talk to you about
The sky was a bruised shade of purple, the last remnants of twilight fading into night as you and Hazard strolled along the quiet path. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers and damp earth, but the warmth of his presence beside you made the chill feel distant. It had been his idea to escape the bustle of the world for a while, though he’d been unusually shy about suggesting it.
“It’s nice out here” you said, breaking the comfortable silence. Your eyes drifted to the horizon, where stars began to prick through the deepening dark. “I’m glad you dragged me away tonight.”
He chuckled softly, the sound low and slightly nervous. “Didn’t take much draggin’. Yer always up for a bit of peace and quiet—not that I blame ye.”
You glanced at him, catching the faint blush dusting his cheeks. It was rare to see Hazard flustered, the man who seemed to thrive on chaos and sharp wit suddenly subdued.
“What’s on your mind?” you asked gently, stopping to face him. The moonlight caught the edges of his features, softening the usually sharp lines of his expression. His gaze flickered away, then back to yours, as if he were steeling himself for something.
“It’s... well, it’s nothin’, really” he started, but the quirk of your eyebrow stopped him in his tracks. “Alright, alright. It’s somethin.”
You waited patiently, your silence urging him to continue.
“I’ve been thinkin’ about how to say this” he began, his brogue thickening slightly with his nerves. “But words... they’re not exactly my strong suit.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Figured if I didn’t say somethin’ tonight, I’d never work up the courage.”
Your heart skipped a beat at the earnestness in his tone. “Hazard” you said softly, stepping closer. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that, right?”
He nodded, letting out a deep breath. “Aye, I know. And that’s part of the problem. Ye make it too easy, bein’ yourself. Yer kind, patient, funny... and ye’ve got this way of makin’ me feel like I’m somethin’ more than just... me.”
You felt a lump rise in your throat, your chest tightening at his words. He looked down at his hands, fidgeting with a loose thread on his jacket as if it could distract him from the vulnerability of the moment.
“The truth is” he continued, his voice quieter now, “I’ve fallen for ye. Harder than I thought possible. And I’ve tried to keep it to myself because I didn’t want to muck up what we’ve got. But every time I see ye, every time ye smile, it’s like...” He paused, his voice catching slightly. “It’s like I’m yours already, whether ye want me or no.”
You blinked, his confession settling over you like a wave. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath, the only sound the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze. Then, without thinking, you reached out and took his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together.
“Hazard…” you said, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. “Do you even know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that?”
His head snapped up, his eyes wide with surprise. “Ye’re... yer no’ just sayin’ that, are ye?”
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Not even a little. I’ve felt the same way for so long, but I didn’t want to push you or risk scaring you off. You’re ... you’re important to me, Hazard. More than I can put into words.”
A grin spread across his face, the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. He squeezed your hand, pulling you closer until there was barely any space between you. “Well, I’ll be…” he murmured, his voice tinged with awe. “Guess I’ve got to thank the stars for ye tonight.” You smiled, your free hand brushing a stray strand of hair from his face.
His gaze softened, and for a moment, he looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. Then, with a tenderness that belied his usual bravado, he leaned in and kissed you. It was a kiss that spoke of everything he’d been too afraid to say, of every moment he’d spent wishing for this one.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m yours” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Now and always.”
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but they were tears of joy, of relief, of finally finding something you hadn’t even realized you’d been searching for.
“Baby, I’m yours” you whispered back, your voice steady despite the tears threatening to fall.
The two of you stayed there under the starlit sky, wrapped in each other’s warmth, as the night seemed to stretch on forever. And for the first time, the world felt right—not because it was perfect, but because you were together.
Fandom: Overwatch
Pairing: Genji Shimada X Reader
Words: 306
Warnings: Kidnapping (sort of)
Continua a leggere
Female | Italy | more Writing than Painting
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