#lime rating

There wasn’t much doubt that amongst the scale of ‘Definitely Not Human-Like’ to ‘As Human As Could Possibly Be, But Still Not Actually Human’, Doctor was more so teetering towards the edge of being more human-like than majority of the other S.C.P. beings that were also residing within the containment site, even still after the initial breach. That didn’t stop the researcher, (Y/N), from initiating a relationship with the Doctor, and eventually it became as intimate as it possibly could have. Despite that intimacy, there wasn’t necessarily ever a thought that a pregnancy between Doctor and (Y/N) could possibly happen, at least until viewing the results of the pregnancy tests that (Y/N) had taken. While there was some initial anxiety when it came to telling Doctor, he was actually pretty excited about the news! 

While within the early stages of their relationship Doctor had respected (Y/N)’s boundaries for space and privacy, now that she’s carrying their child, there’s not really such a thing as space and privacy anymore. (Y/N) couldn’t even make the five steps from Doctor’s desk to the bathroom within his laboratory without him jumping up to assist her. “Are you doing well, Chère? Do you need any assistance? Is there anything concerning the baby?” With that being said, the security around the laboratory is increased as well. There’s also more reanimated subjects that are placed around the laboratory, and even the most common places that (Y/N) typically ventures to and from, for an extra form of protection. It had gotten to the point that Doctor had to venture through the site looking for something, but didn’t want to disturb (Y/N) from their nap, so he had one of the subjects lay in the bed with her for protection.

Doctor is absolutely involved with the baby, ever since the moment that (Y/N) had revealed to him that she was pregnant with his child. He would spend literal hours just reading out loud to her and the child, whether it be his own research papers, random magazine pages found strewn across hallway floors, or would even spend time reading the files based on his other S.C.P. companions. It’s the same thing when it comes to listening to music, even if it’s various languages that (Y/N)’s unfamiliar with or hasn’t even heard of before. Doctor swears that while he hasn’t had any children before, that he’s done his fair share of research when it comes to pregnancies and even early childhood education, though (Y/N) is a bit unsure since it’s been quite some time since Doctor has been within the general public, especially in today’s day and age. He claims that it’s critical, and a long term benefit, that a developing baby experiences these things.

This pregnancy is definitely something more than just a generic pregnancy for Doctor, but he’s not going to make that known to (Y/N) unless he absolutely has to. As stated above, he’s never had a child before, and hasn’t came across anyone else like himself, so he’s unaware of what to actually expect when it comes to someone like him having a child within someone such as her. He’s not just monitoring the basic and typical pregnancy symptoms and such when it comes to watching over his beloved and her pregnancy. Secretly, he’s also monitoring for any abnormalities, anything that could end up becoming alarming or dangerous for (Y/N) or the baby, and even both. He doesn’t want to lose either of them, and therefore he would rather be able to take the risk of doing this part of the monitoring in secret if that means making sure that (Y/N) and their baby is doing well. While he was alone for the majority of his life before she had come along, Doctor isn’t sure if he would be able to continue on if he was to lose her.

“Where are you planning on going now? Since we’ve lost Shepard.. and now the whole galaxy is going to shit..” Despite that it was technically considered “middle of the day” upon the Citadel, the loss of Shepard had left a void within the local people of having a somewhat peaceful future without the lingering threat of the Reapers, there weren't many people out and about. Maybe some were in some personal space of theirs trying to figure out how to cope with the loss while others were hiding away and spouting off how it was now going to be the end of the galaxy. Well, those feelings didn’t necessarily apply for this outlandish duo, leaning against the balcony railing to one of the upper floors of the citadel, watching the few beings below scurry by. 

Urdnot Wrex, who was better known for being a famed Krogan mercenary and bounty hunter, but also being one of the last remaining Krogan Battlemasters around. A long-lived Krogan who has become cranky and thick-hided throughout the various adventures of his chosen path of violence and killing for credits. Not that he needed them really, but it was something valuable to have on hand, especially for his lesser species companion, (Y/N) (L/N). Biologically considered a woman, a human woman at that, who had been spending most of their time as an Engineer fixing various things up amongst that shithole known at Omega, and then spent their free time studying and experimenting with various types of medicine. Well, that’s what they had been up to until Wrex had figured out that they had some information and possible whereabouts of a target he had been searching for due to a bounty. Throughout hardships and violence, and then having given their fair share of blood and sweat (and some tears from the both of them, yet we all know that will be kept off the books) the two individuals became quite the duo. A grumpy, cranky Krogan and his somewhat optimistic, vivacious human. 

It doesn’t go unnoticed by (Y/N), how Wrex proceeds to keep his vision focused upon something within the distance and then his momentarily lack of response.

“..There’s some things that require my attention back on Tuchanka-” 

“-So we’re going to Tuchanka then. Going to need quite a bit of sup-”“-You won’t be going, (Y/N). You’ll be staying here..” 

There couldn’t be any way that he had just told them that they would be staying behind, considering that they’ve practically gone everywhere together since their first encounter with each other. While there’s a moment of silence that lingers between them, (Y/N) couldn’t help but to turn their head slightly to attempt to study the Krogan, as if they would be able to penetrate that thick skull of his and read his thoughts.

“You keep staring at me and I’ll have to hang you upside down from the top of the Citadel,” Wrex nonchalantly responds as he proceeds to push himself away from the balcony and turns to face (Y/N) who continues to look at him in confusion. He knew that there would probably be some resistance about his statement, but at that moment he knew that it was the best thing for the both of them. “We’ve been through some tough shit together, no doubt about that- but, Tuchanka is something else, (Y/N). Something else that your kind isn’t necessarily ready to deal with for a long term experience..” It’s not that Wrex didn’t believe that they wouldn’t be able to hold their own, especially with the fame and power that he happened to have amongst the other Krogan on Tuchanka, but if something- just anything bad- was to happen to (Y/N), Wrex wouldn’t be able to forgive himself and therefore decided that the best thing for them would be for them not to go with him. Not this time. Yet, not that he would tell them the true reasoning why. 

“You don’t think that the other Krogan or whatever won’t take one look at me, realize how much of a badass I am, and then just run away and cower in fear?” (Y/N) presents their words with a teasing tone while moving their hands to place firmly upon their hips. Of course they knew that essentially a couple Krogan would be pretty easy to handle, but a whole planet of Krogan? Yeah, that would definitely be a different story. A soft sigh of defeat leaves (Y/N)’s, knowing that ultimately they weren’t going to be able to deter Wrex from his choice. Wrex lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly while lifting up one of his hands to somewhat roughly pat the top of (Y/N)’s head. “With all due time, (Y/N). With all due time..”  

‘..With all due time..’ 

Who would’ve thought that “with all due time” would’ve been almost two and a half years later? 

Things had been going particularly well for those first couple of months after Wrex had departed to go deal with whatever it was that he had to deal with back on Tuchanka, leaving (Y/N) behind to deal with mundane events or short-lived jobs. They would spend whatever time that they could chatting with each other through emails, watching clips of stupid or funny things that they had come across, or even just sitting there for a couple of hours on a video call talking about whatever thoughts had eventually crossed their minds. Well, not every thought that had crossed their minds. Fear and anxiety consistently won over courage whenever it came to expressing those thoughts, especially with how things had been going those days. 

Yet, hours turned into days.. 

..and those days began to turn into weeks.. 

..eventually those weeks into months.. 

As time continued to pass, increasing the time it had been since they last saw each other, the communication between the both of them had begun to diminish. Apologies to each other, stating that either work or personal matters had gotten in the way and were disrupting their schedule of catching up with each other, until it had slowly dissolved into absolutely no communication at all. Not that there had been any arguments between the two of them, nothing that would cause them to harbor negative feelings towards each other. It had just been.. life. Two different people- two different species, two whole different sets of responsibilities and priorities, especially whenever there was the distance of being on different parts of the Milky Way between them. Just more time to find other things to occupy those once precious and special times. 

That had been the usual routine before one lonesome night after having a few drinks by themself that (Y/N) happens to open their door to find a once deceased Shepard standing there, Garrus on one side of her and some seemingly young Krogan on the other side of her. Long story short, Shepard had been through the “Lazarus Project” through Cerberus and had been informed that the Reaper threat was back once again, and Shepard was currently forming her team. While she was there to recruit the Engineer to continue fighting the war against the Reapers, Shepard was also there in hopes that (Y/N) would have some knowledge on Wrex’s whereabouts to help solve some issues that the young Krogan seemed to be having. 

Tuchanka. It wasn’t necessarily surprising to figure out that Wrex had been residing amongst Tuchanka this whole time considering that it technically was the homeworld of his species and he had spent this whole time worrying and trying to figure out a better future for the Krogan, trying to deal with their breeding complications due to the genophage. Yet, being able to physically see him for the first time in two-and-a-half years, sitting upon that makeshift throne of crumbled and fallen concrete rubble, looking over the fellow Krogan that were most likely doing various things in order to establish whatever tasks Wrex wanted completed.. (Y/N) couldn’t help that lurching feeling within their chest, those memories of late nights sitting around some campfire or in some dingy hotel room coming back to mind like wiping away dust from an almost forgotten book that’s been sitting on the shelf for a little too long now. With those familiar crimson eyes finally making contact with their own, (Y/N)’s heart seemingly lurching within their chest, and a singular thought that maybe Wrex was thinking those same, similar memories.

Grunt’s initiation mission of surviving the Thresher Maw to be able to join the ranks of the Urdnot Clan had gone quite well, and ultimately caused a celebration to take place since Grunt decided to one-up Wrex and successfully killed the Thresher Maw as well. It doesn’t take much more than a couple of drinks for (Y/N) to decide that it was best for them to take a break from the celebration, finding themself sitting upon some rubble some distance away, eyes gazing to the stars that lingered within the night sky above. Quite a peaceful moment until it had been interrupted by the soft sound of a grunt, causing (Y/N) to turn their head towards the source, the source causing a grin to form upon their lips. “Oh, no. Mr. Urdnot Wrex, sir. I swear I’m not slacking from my duties.” They reply with a snort, watching as the Krogan heaved himself up to the empty spot on the rubble next to (Y/N) while shaking his head in amusement. “As long as you don’t tell the others that I’m also not slacking from my duties as well, then we can keep this as our little secret.” 

From that moment and forth on, it was as if there hadn’t been a two and a half separation between them besides some minor things. There were various, new battle scars upon Wrex’s hide while those slight wrinkles and creases from scowling due to stress were more prominent on (Y/N)’s face. More physical changes than anything, really. They went back to reminiscing on memories from their younger days or how if they could go back in time they would’ve harassed a bounty target for much longer. How they should’ve taken that one individual up on the selling of some property on a foreign planet long ago for how cheap it would’ve been compared to prices these days, and let’s not forget to add being a menace to the local population of course. Eventually memories transitioned into talking about the present, how much or how little some of the members from the original Normandy had changed, and even some of the relationships that had formed from it. 

“-So, yeah. Android, or whatever you wanna call it, robotic pussy is the only thing Joker’s hitting right now. Shepard’s been talking to someone on the Normandy, apparently he’s a.. Drell? Anyways, then Garrus-” 

“-You and Vakarian, huh?” 

There’s an audible gagging sound that emits from (Y/N)’s lips and softly echoes in the area around them. Not necessarily loud enough to capture the attention of the others who were still celebrating away, and would probably end up drinking themselves blacked-out drunk. Their eyebrows are furrowed in not only some amusement, but in disbelief as well. Wrex was thinking that there was something going on between them and Garrus? What exactly had led to that? Okay, yeah. Considering that there weren't as many original Normandy crew members around, and Wrex wasn’t tagging along either, (Y/N) and Garrus’s friendship had become more apparent, but it was definitely nothing romantically inclined. Definitely, absolutely not. 

“You think that there’s something going on between Garrus and I?” 

“..been looking at you all weirdly, eyes narrowed-” 

“-Wrex,” 

“-then he’s always flaring those mandibles of his whenever he sees you holding that fancy sniper-” 

“-Hey, Knucklehead!-” 

“-Then he’s always puffing out his chest and huffing every time that he’s near you-”

“-Urdnot Wrex, if you do not shut up and let me explain, I will be carving that makeshift throne of yours into a dick.” 

That was enough of a threat to cause the Krogan to finally shut his mouth, but not before letting out a low-rumbling growl. Not that he would necessarily bring (much) harm to his companion, as a matter of fact it was quite the opposite. It was more that the last thing that the Krogan needed was the clans of Krogan getting word that his throne was now some monstrosity of a cock, and he’d become something of a laughing stock. 

“There's absolutely nothing going on between Garrus and I. There never has been, and there never will be. He’s just waiting for the perfect opportunity to curb stomp my ass for making fun of his shit sniping skills.” (Y/N) couldn’t help but to let out a snarky laugh as they proceeded to recall the memory, but it was short lived as there was a more important issue at hand. Wrex had thought that they were romantically involved with someone, when it was the complete opposite. 

Was he not able to see the devotion- the loyalty- that they had for him? How (Y/N) would drop anything and give up everything just to be by his side? Did Wrex not even think about how much turmoil they had been in having been separated from him this long- especially with having little to no contact? Was Wrex not able to notice how his mere presence not only affected them physically, but also emotionally and mentally as well? During their time together (Y/N) had found themself gravitating towards being around Wrex, feeling not only safe, but also comfortable. (Y/N)’s thoughts transitioning into not about what they were truly thinking, but what he might be thinking, how he might be feeling, how or what they could do in order to make sure that he was at least in a content mood. How whenever he would accidentally brush up against them, or even purposely grab ahold of their arm to drag them away from the midst of battle or something that he wasn’t enjoying, it would cause a warmth to spread throughout them and all they could do was crave more. Crave more of one thing, crave more of many things, to crave more of it all. 

Even wanting a romantically inclined future with Wrex. 

“-You know I have feelings for you, Wrex.” 

Finally. 

There’s relief at finally having gotten the long awaited confession off of their chest, a shaky breath also escaping past their lips, but it’s not too long before an anxiety begins to settle in at Wrex’s silence. 

Had it been the wrong time for the confession? 

Had it been the wrong place for the confession? 

Had it-

“-I thought you didn’t want me.” 

The way that their body scooches across the few rocks between them to be close to him, pressing their side against his own, head moving to rest against the bicep of his armor- it’s almost like (Y/N)’s body was on autopilot. Numerous thoughts flooding their mind, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. 

“It’s always been you.” 

Confusion begins to slowly diffuse and turn into slight amusement, a small smile spreading across (Y/N)’s lips. 

“It’s always been you, it’ll always be you. You’re absolutely insane if you think I would prefer to be with anyone else after everything that we’ve been through together.” 

Wrex couldn’t help but chuckle after grumbling something incoherent underneath his breath. Probably something self-deprecating, but if (Y/N) were to ask the Krogan would probably just place the blame on some unknown Salarian. 

“Yeah, you’re right..” 

Of course.

Of course they were right. (Y/N) was always right. 

“So, what now?” (Y/N) questions, leaning their head back slightly to look at Wrex, an eyebrow raising. 

There wasn’t no doubt that “The Main Man” was nothing less than a ruthless alien bounty hunter. How he would happily oblige when told by those who hired him for his missions to “put on a show for the locals”, recklessly making his way through anything that happens to stand in his way, completing his missions with maybe just some scratches. An indestructible killing machine with absolutely no weakness, at least without being dismembered, but even then that doesn’t do much but buy people maybe a couple of months without his presence. Yet, there was one thing that he considered to be his weakness, not that he would just openly state what it was to everyone he came across but it was his own child, his own offspring: (Y/N).

Whenever the conversation had come about and (Y/N) had expressed their interest about wanting to stay upon Earth for the time being, despite being hesitant about the decision, Lobo had agreed. Upon discovering during one of his own bounties that his child had joined what was known as “The Team”, which was a group of young superheroes that were assigned to undertake covert missions on behalf of the Justice League, he was also hesitant about their decision, but decided to support them either way and they exchanged a nod of acknowledgement and understanding. (Y/N) was beginning to finally grow into their own individual as they departed from their father’s side and began to make their own decisions and choices, to finally forge their own path in life. Lobo couldn’t say anything else besides that he was proud and ultimately excited to see where (Y/N)’s choices would take them in life. Yet, that was until Lobo had discovered that they were in a relationship with another member of the team, and those paternal instincts within him knew that he had to take action.

Artemis Crock:

They had been planning this date for ages now, probably a couple of weeks to a month now. A chance for the both of them to get away from the busy things that kept them occupied within life. For (Y/N) to be able to take a breather from taking on countless missions with the Team, while Artemis would be able to take a break from grading countless literature essays from her teaching classes at Royal University. Yet, when it’s now about thirty minutes past the time that they were supposed to meet up and no communication from (Y/N) stating that they were going to be late, Artemis is becoming slightly worried and slightly on edge. Are they okay? Did something happen to them? It was only some of her answers being resolved once she had made it to (Y/N)’s place of residence and finding the piece of paper left by Lobo stating a location for Artemis to meet him at.

Upon reaching the destination from the note, Artemis is firsthand met with a seemingly pouting (Y/N). Arms crossed while slight annoyance had overtaken their features, that was until they had caught sight of Artemis. “State your business with my child, human.” Lobo’s voice overcomes any other noises in the area, his dark red eyes piercing into Artemis, muscular arms crossed over his chest in an attempt to make himself more menacing. Artemis raises a slight eyebrow in confusion before leaning over slightly to glance over at (Y/N), who has slowly made their way closer to both Artemis and Lobo. “He means that he wants to know your intentions of being with me, revolving around our relationship.” Artemis is almost insulted at hearing that Lobo is questioning Artemis’s intentions with being in a relationship with (Y/N), sort of speaking, and her hands immediately go to land on her hips.

It’s something like an intense staredown between their partner and their father, something similar to those showdown scenes within those old wild west films. (Y/N)’s waiting patiently, seeing who would be the first one to break between the both of them. “You don’t believe that I have what it takes to love (Y/N)? To be able to make sure that they’re happy and taken care of while you go galavanting along throughout the galaxy?” Upon hearing Artemis’s remark in response to him questioning her intentions with (Y/N), Lobo’s eyes widened in not only surprise, but amusement as well. “Well, quite the amusing one, aren’t you, human? ..but, straight-up, brutal honesty..” A soft chuckle leaves Lobo’s lips as he proceeds to turn back to glance at (Y/N), who has a flustered blush upon their face while they stand there almost nervously at what this outcome could be. “Oh, don’t you fret, little one. Your partner gets to live to see another day with you.. But, you make sure that you let me know if this puny human even lays a finger on you wrongly and I will crush them into a pulp.”

M’Gann M'orzz:

It was the actuality that they were both extraterrestrial individuals still adjusting to the quite numerous customs and cultures of that on Earth that had caused M’Gann and (Y/N) to have been brought together. (Y/N) having spent many days assisting M’Gann cook various goods or secretly watching reruns of that show she had based her original appearance on, M’Gann having spent many days watch as (Y/N) would vigorously train just to pass time or spending countless hours talking about the places that them and their father had visited during his bounties, leaving out the parts about how their father slaughtered countless lives. The similarities that the two individuals have grows into a close friendship, which soon results into a romantic relationship with one another. Overall, things were going quite well between M’Gann and (Y/N). Yet, with all good things there’s typically a bad thing that comes along with them. What was supposed to be a relaxing evening after return from a mission turns around to be a moment of panic as M’Gann comes upon the destruction of the headquarters of Mount Justice, and a note that had been left by Lobo stating M’Gann meet him at a location if she ever wanted to see (Y/N) again.

While she’s expecting a full blown retaliation and fight from Lobo, M’Gann is actually surprised to find that it’s just Lobo and (Y/N), and they are currently arguing with each other. She has to take a moment to process the scene in front of her before she starts giggling softly which captures the attention of the arguing duo. “Oh, M’Gann! Thank goodness you’re here! Can you tell me dad that we are perfectly fine and you’re not planning on probing me or sucking my brains out through a straw?” She couldn’t help but to begin busting out in laughter, knowing that (Y/N) must’ve been referencing those old, classic rumors about what extraterrestrials would do to humans after abducting them. Floating on over, she proceeds to take a gentle hold of (Y/N)’s hands, giving a sincere smile while glancing over at Lobo. “I can guarantee that us Martians don’t particularly participate in.. those peculiar rumors.

(Y/N) had to continuously keep pinching the flesh upon his arms to make sure that this indeed was now his reality, and not just some bizarre lucid dream that he was currently experiencing. It had begun with him assisting the legendary Reinhardt and some of his companions in destroying the command ship that was wreaking havoc to the city of Gothenburg. Now here he was as one of the handful of recruits for the secondary formation of Overwatch, being given a tour of the newest headquarters located within Malevento, Italy. It was an amazing experience so far! Getting to meet various former heroes such as Cassidy and Sojourn, and then newer members such as Lucio and D.Va. (Y/N) couldn’t wait to begin the trainings and then be able to go on missions, to begin coming up with concepts of his own costume, to be able to- 

‘Uh, (Y/N)?’ 

Oh, yeah. 

Turns out that it wasn’t all how (Y/N) had believed how things were going to go. 

‘You doing alright down there, luv? You’ve been quiet for these last couple of minutes?’ 

While it was quite obvious to him that he wasn’t going to be instantly thrown in missions that were dangerous or would end up in extreme circumstances, this was definitely not what (Y/N) was thinking when he was recruited for Overwatch. Instead of being sent on basic covert missions to help address future locations that the Null Sector would attempt to strike at next, it turns out that the former members of the Overwatch crew had decided that the perfect position for (Y/N) would be to venture out and go recruit other members of interest to increase their numbers. 

Yeah, you heard that right. 

(Y/N) (L/N), newest recruiter for Overwatch.

‘Uh, yeah.. Doin’ fine, Le- I, uh, mean.. Tracer.. Yeah, just finally getting around to the last person that’s on the list for this area that some of the others are interested in recruiting. 

“Let’s see, where we’re at on this damn thing..”

Mako Rutledge.. “Roadhog”.. 

Jamison Fawkes.. “Junkrat”.. 

Ah, there we are! Odessa “Dez” Stone.. Junker Queen..

‘Wait, Tracer? This.. wasteland.. Actually has a Queen? Like they have literal lines of royalty out in this dump?’ (Y/N) questions the woman over his comms, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he proceeds to reread the name and the context following a couple of times just to make sure that what he was seeing was actually correct. There’s absolutely no way that a place as.. chaotic and savage.. would have any sort of royalty, let alone the capacity to really understand how royalty and their systems work. At least there couldn’t be, right? 

‘It’s not what you would think when thinking of the term ‘royalty’, such how royalty is within other places. For example, the United Kingdom, where I’m from. Within Junkertown, the term royalty follows more- Well, it’s a bit complicated to explain. Let’s get this process done quickly so we can get you out of there before the locals start getting riled up with an outsider being in their presence.’ 

Tracer was definitely right, and (Y/N) couldn’t agree with her anymore than he already did. The faster that he could get this recruitment process done and over with, that’s if this “Junker Queen” agreed to be recruited, then the better that this whole situation would be. He could only hope that it wouldn’t be as hectic as dealing with that “Roadhog” and “Junkrat” duo. 

It’s not like there was a possibility that this trip could become even weirder than it already has been.

..Right? 

“Hold on,” Apparently there was a bodyguard that (Y/N) had to address his intentions to, and apparently be deemed worthy by the bodyguard, before being able to approach the Junker Queen. “So, you’re telling me that you’re the Queen’s bodyguard?” 

A hamster. 

A hamster that’s in a mechanical ball. 

A hamster that’s in a mechanical ball, that speaks apparently, is the Queen’s bodyguard. 

“Affirmative.” 

It’s then that there’s a somewhat awkward moment of silence, moreso from (Y/N)’s side than the hamster that has informed the man to address him as “Hammond”, as they stand there and just stare at each other. (Y/N) then proceeds to hold out the list of individuals for recruitment. “Uh, so I’m (Y/N), one of the newer members and now the recruiter for Overwatch, or at least this reformation of it, and your.. Queen.. happens to be upon the list.. So, would I be able to meet her? To discuss the possibility that she might be interested in joining?” He could only think about what Tracer’s thoughts might possibly be as she was also watching through the cameras that were located within the hall that Winston had managed to infiltrate, and ultimately (Y/N) wouldn’t be surprised if she was to tell him that his next task was to attempt to recruit the damn hamster as well. 

“Right this way.” 

There’s something similar to an eerie silence that begins to overcome the environment as (Y/N) proceeds to follow Hammond down the hallway to where apparently the Queen’s throne was located, or at least what (Y/N) would hope to be the Queen’s throne and not some crazy death trap. Just a quick turn around to look behind him to ease the slight paranoia that had begun to work its way within the depths of his mind, but (Y/N) turns back around to find out that he’s apparently lost sight of Hammond. ..Somehow.. But at this point it doesn’t necessarily matter. Back to the original purpose of being here, recruiting the Queen. 

“Uh, hello?” He calls out into the open, the sound of his voice echoing off the metal walls, but not being met with any response whatsoever. Just the creaking and groaning of machinery within the background. “Hello?” (Y/N) calls out once again for safe measure, for maybe he wasn’t heard in the first place- “What the hell?!” A slight shriek leaves past his lips as there’s a sudden blur that whips past his face, the breeze from the encounter causing his hair to become disheveled. He doesn’t necessarily get even a moment to process and figure out what the thing was that had flown past him and imbedded itself into the wall behind him - object, person, whatever it happens to be, before he’s having to quickly throw himself back to avoid having his face sliced off from the ax that has seemed to materialize out of thin air and just inches away from his face. “H-Holy shit!” 

‘(Y/N)! Look out!-’ 

Tracer’s voice, a panicked tone, could be heard through the comms not even a moment later, but it was already too late at that point to give a proper reaction, as (Y/N) could only focus on the brief pain that surged from what seemed to be the thick heel of a boot colliding with his chest, and then pain surging through him once again as his back collides harshly with the floor beneath him. 

Was this the end for him? 

How his life long dreams were now going to be short lived memories?

Yet, what he wasn’t expecting was to feel an immense pressure upon his face and practically be tasting a mixture of dirt and rubber. Moving his face proves to be fruitless as the pressure on his face increases. 

‘(Y/N)?! (Y/N)?! Are you okay?!’ 

“Oh, doing fine!-”

There wasn’t any doubt that she was definitely something of a taller woman. While she didn’t necessarily need those couple inches of wedge upon her boots to give her that extra height, it was definitely a mixture of not only intimidating but also attractive as well. (Y/N) couldn’t necessarily care about height, but that was more his personal preference. The various variants of blue within her hair, despite that he could see the brown color peeking out within her roots, yet it’s quite an eye-catcher as while typically the colors would contrast within the red of her eyes, yet, it just made her all that more beautiful. Don’t get (Y/N) started on the articles of her appearance either. From the metal studs that were embedded into the fabric of her clothing to the faded makeup to her eyes. It just enhanced it all. Tied everything together like it was a bow on a present. 

God, she was just absolutely beautiful. 

‘Are you sure that “doing fine” is the correct choice of words? You’re literally being crushed by the Junker Queen, (Y/N)!’

There’s some soft, muffled chuckle that makes way past (Y/N)’s lips at Tracer’s words, watching as Odessa proceeds to lean down to get a better glance of the man beneath her foot while a slight sneer begins to make its way to her own lips. “Well, Tracer, she’s kinda fine, if you happen to get what I mean~” He goes to lift his arm which briefly catches Odessa’s attention, slightly waving the clipboard that he somehow, miraculously still held onto. 

Whether it would be traversing throughout the nine layers of Hell itself or going on what is hoped to be a simplistic shopping trip to the local farmer’s market, they could be found directly by her side. It could be labeled as a suicide mission with a ninety-nine percent chance of not making it back alive or sitting next to each other on the couch in the laboratory office, they could still be found directly by her side. It was quite obvious that it didn't matter the location or the situation, (Y/N) could always be found directly by Moira’s side. Therefore, when Moira had left the disappointment that she called Overwatch, (Y/N) uprooted themselves and followed her into the hands of Talon without any questions or hesitations.

Yet, being a part of Talon’s inner council meant that there were some things that had to be discussed or dealt with where only Moira could attend, having to leave (Y/N) alone for the night to entertain themselves until Moira was to get back. “The less people that are aware of the situation, the less danger that you will be in, my Coinín,” Moira would respond when having been asked by (Y/N) why they couldn’t attend as well. Typically that would mean that they would have to entertain themselves within the comforts of one of the many safehouses that Talon occupied, but (Y/N) was feeling more adventurous, deciding to spend the night exploring the city. Unfortunately, the night didn’t end as (Y/N) would’ve expected, and ended up getting captured by some former Overwatch operators to be interrogated for information about Talon and their next plans of operation.

How long has it been since that night? How long has it been since (Y/N) had been snatched away from their late night stroll around the city to pass the time until Moira was to come back home? These Overwatch operators, some of them being former coworkers and former companions, refused to tell (Y/N). It didn’t help that the interrogation and the increasingly violent methods that they were using in an attempt to extract information was making it seem as if time was going by ever so slowly, but that was also a part of the methods as well. Each different person brought in to interrogate (Y/N) had various methods to use, some more dangerous and risky than the others, but they all knew that they couldn’t just outright kill (Y/N) as a final tactic.

Using pharmacological torture upon them and trying to pry information while (Y/N)’s in a drugged out haze, breaking bones varying from fingers and toes to an arm and a leg, trying to deprive them of their senses to where they could only focus on the darkness and the pain but forcing (Y/N) to stay awake to endure it all. Now they are attempting to force (Y/N) to submit and give them the information that they’re seeking through waterboarding, listening as the former member coughs out and gasps for air through the drenched cloth on their face. While there’s an expectation of that extremely cold water to attempt to suffocate them once again, that expectation never comes. There’s some slight confusion, a slight jolt from (Y/N) as there’s fingers frantically brushing across their skin, beginning to pull at the binds that hold them down to the chair and the items that were used to deprive (Y/N) of their senses.

It takes some moments for some stability to come to (Y/N) from being disoriented by the sudden rush of their senses coming back to them, grunting slightly while scrunching their eyes closed at the blinding light that surrounds them. There’s a voice, a voice that’s recognizable but between the blaring alarms, the undeniable sounds of fighting taking place within the background, it’s hard to make out what exactly is being said. “..M-Moira..?” Moia’s name slips past (Y/N)’s lips in a soft whisper while lifting their head in order to look at the person, and being confirmed that’s exactly who it was. “Don’t you worry, little Coinín. I’ll be taking you back home, making sure that you get the best treatment.” Typically being calm outwardly, it doesn’t take much for (Y/N) to know that internally Moira’s panicking, concerned about the amount of damage that’s been done, but she continues to hold her head up high and deal with the occasional enemy that crosses her path as she proceeds to carry (Y/N) to the dropship for evacuation.

While every child deserves to have a parent, not every parent deserves to have a child. Parents are supposed to be there to care and nurture for their child, to show them the beauty and positivity of the world around them, encouraging them to make a better change for the world when they become older. Yet, unfortunately, not every child is blessed with parents like that. There are some children who have parents who were created from the hands of evil itself, (Y/N)’s mother, Moira O’Deorain, being a prime example of it. From the earliest memories that (Y/N) could recall, it was always being within the laboratory of his mother. It wasn’t her trying to necessarily teach him the proper way to write a research essay or an attempt to get him interested in her own line of work, someone else to continue on her life research. (Y/N) could only remember that he was at the receiving end of Moira’s work and research. How his body constantly aches and was sore from being consistently prodded and poked by various needles, the strenuous tasks and challenges to (Y/N) was forced to complete in order to test his more physical attributes, how the only praise that he would receive from his mother was when research was progressed or made in the way that she was expecting.

(Y/N) couldn’t necessarily recall, not that he really wanted to remember honestly, what was the breaking point of his decision to defy his mother and everything that he had known, to escape and hopefully leave Talon behind, once and for all. It’ll take some time to come up with a decent plan, and it will take patience as well to make sure that it goes well, especially since (Y/N) discovering his newfound ability of teleportation. Eventually he comes to find that his ability to remain patient has finally been given a reward, waking up to the chaos of the safe house that (Y/N) had been temporarily placed in by his mother being raided by police officers. Taking the opportunity to use his abilities to escape, it’s only a matter of time before (Y/N) collapses, but manages to catch a glimpse of a couple of figures and their muffled voices before succumbing completely to the darkness and exhaustion that was overtaking him. 

Whenever awoken, (Y/N)’s senses are briefly assaulted by the environment around him. It takes him a moment to truly process and come to the realization of where he’s at. It’s something similar to his mother’s own laboratory, but it was more.. radiant.. more.. welcoming..? It was definitely quite the contrast as to what he was used to. Yet, what had taken him by surprise the most was the woman that was approaching him, and (Y/N) couldn’t find anything else to compare her to besides the physical embodiment of an angel. “Well, hello, there.” Even the softness of her voice was such a rare delicacy from what he was used to around Talon. “My apologies! My name is Angela, and I’m the doctor that will be attending to you for the time being.” Was this some sort of Heaven for (Y/N)? Had he somehow perished escaping from the safe house and this was the reward for dealing with all that he had suffered through? He wasn’t exactly sure at the moment, but only time would tell. 

Angela Ziegler, also known as “Mercy” by her companions. A peerless healer, a brilliant scientist, and a staunch advocate for peace. It didn’t take much for her persona to draw (Y/N) in, and it didn't take much longer for him to become attached to her. She’s quite gentle, quite nice. She makes sure to check up on him and ask him how he’s doing. It’s.. comforting.. It’s.. everything that he could’ve asked for from someone. Everything that he’s ever wanted.. Especially from his own mother. This is how mother’s are actually supposed to be, right? Eventually spending days with Angela turns into weeks, and those weeks turn into months, and now, it was now an on-going two years since (Y/N) had met Angela. He could always be found tailing her around, a sincere smile on his face as she took care of him, properly nurturing and supporting him. Giving him a chance to live some aspect of life like a normal person. Well, as normal as it can be when you’ve got teleportation abilities and your adoptive mom is a part of Overwatch. Yet, it’s definitely way better than it was with his biological mother and the rest of Talon.

Who would’ve ever thought that after all this time of not seeing his biological mother, that just the mere sight of her would cause so much fear and anxiety to quickly rise within (Y/N). When did everything begin to become so surreal? When did his throat start to tighten? When did the impending sense of doom begin to rise within him like someone in the process of vomiting? He couldn’t do this alone, he was definitely sure about it. He needed to locate her, to find her, to seek out the comfort and reassurance that she could provide to him. After what seemed like the longest couple of minutes within his life, (Y/N) had managed to track her down. Angela, Mercy, his Mom. “S-She’s here! She’s here!” The words escape past his lips as frantic, hysterical whispers as his hands grip into Angela’s outfit while looking up at her with a petrified look upon his face. 

“Transmasculine?” Jack can't state that he's familiar with the exact word or its definition. He's definitely aware that there are other gender identities, gender expressions, or both, besides cisgender, but it's not exactly a topic that he keeps himself up-to-date with when it comes to the terminology and information. Ultimately, it takes (Y/N) sitting Jack down and explaining transmasculine for him to be able to wrap his mind around this new information. “It sounds quite.. simple.. to understand?” It still might take him some time to completely come to understand, as besides his partner explaining it to him Jack then takes it upon himself to do some more research on it, but he's trying! He's realizing that it's quite crucial that he's informed about this information, not only for the well-being of (Y/N), but for their success and well-being of their relationship as well.

While gender dysphoria is something else that’s also probably going to have to be explained to him, it’s definitely something that he could come up with ways to ease those thoughts that make (Y/N) upset at times, or even have days of being upset. Maybe trying on some of Jack’s clothes would help? Or even going and buying a wardrobe of clothes that would enhance (Y/N)’s masculine features? “Lookin’ handsome as always, love.” Are you needing assistance with chest binding perhaps? Don’t worry, Jack is definitely your guy. Well, it’ll probably take him a couple of times of hands-on experience before he manages to get the hang of it. “Which one would you prefer this time? Would you prefer the kinetic tape? Or just the actual binder?” He’s also on top of consistently asking if (Y/N)’s comfortable and if there’s any health concerns from using the binders. “Are you able to breathe well? Would you like me to tighten or loosen it? ..It’s not irritating your skin is it? If so, we could look into getting you some of this moisturizing cream that I typically use..” Jack would also be completely fine with (Y/N) using some of his products that have that masculine fragrance if that makes him feel better as well.