Collaboration between me and He wrote amazing fanfiction. Really, it's absolutely amazing how he managed to blend OW lore and DID theme. Probably best DID Overwatch stuff I read so far. I evem got goosebumps :3 . Here is just a quick peek:
Lena Oxton (callsign Tracer) was used to being woken up suddenly. An Overwatch agent had to be ready for anything at a moment’s notice, off-duty or not. What was a little more surprising was being woken up in her own flat by a heavy, cold hand gripping her face and holding her mouth shut. Even when the world was in chaos, she figured, you were safe in your own home…right?
She was pinned to the bed by someone’s weight, staring up into an owl-skull mask. Not this bellend again! she thought, rolling her eyes, before she remembered that she hadn’t gone to bed alone. Wait, is Emily—?!
She heard a muffled shriek that had to have been Emily’s. Her head pinned in place by Reaper’s hand, Lena’s eyes darted to the side. Another Talon agent, a woman dressed in purple, had pushed Emily up against the head of the bed. Emily was frozen in terror, something white bulging from her mouth.
“Sorry you had to get caught up in this,” the agent said in a Mexican accent. Lena heard the distinctive sound of duct tape being pulled off of a roll, and saw the other agent press it over Emily’s mouth. “You won’t hold it against me, will you?”
No! No no no no NO! Get away from her!
Lena thrashed and squirmed, but Reaper’s weight pinned her to the bed. His armor made him even heavier; he was fully geared up for field operations, and she was dressed in just her unmentionables. Really, Reaper? You came equipped for a warzone to kidnap two unarmed women? Despite her resistance, Reaper managed—with some effort—to force a thick rag into her mouth, and with more effort he managed to seal her lips with a strip of tape. She made him work for it, though.
“You’re trying my patience,” came the voice from behind the skull mask. “As usual.”
Lena’s struggling grew more frantic at the sound of Emily’s muffled sobs, but to no avail. Her blows—her elbows, shoulders, knees, anything she could put some force behind—struck uselessly against Reaper’s inky black armor as he flipped her over and started taping her wrists together. Her stockinged feet pounded against his back as he wrapped more tape around her body. He barely even seemed to notice.
She’d been in rough situations before. Plenty of them. Facing terrorists like Reaper was just another day in Overwatch. But keeping calm and carrying on was a lot easier when Emily wasn’t involved.
(To read more check out abitcracked.deviantart.com/art…)