#Kill broker Now

[cranescurses]

.. Huiiiiuuiiiiii scyker for youriur souls

[ex0rin]

ArchaeologistBroker:

Layla’s been tracking a rare artifact for years and has finally found its location - hidden away in one of the Power Broker’s warehouses of ill-gotten goods; little does she know that the infamous Power Broker of Madripoor is actually Sharon Carter, who she’s had run ins with before...

[myminecraftstyff]

I love listening to Bad, Tina, and Tubbo's rant about the purgatory event because I feel like it parallels what Charlie said day one. I don't remember word for word but he said something along the lines of, one day you'll see what this place is really taking from you maybe not today maybe not tomorrow but one day you'll see and then come and find us. Because he was right the whole time. On day one red learned what this event was it was getting your teeth kicked in no holds bar, friendships abandoned at the blink of an eye and a chance for blood shed. No one wanted to talk or negotiate day one for red so they changed. Anyone approaching is a threat to be eliminated they don't travel alone they are in constant communication because they learned the hard way how bad it can be. Red team has been willing to be whatever they had to be for the event from unhinged barking gas mask wearing murders to homeless drifters begging to spared because they have nothing. They have adapted to survive purgatory in their own way and it's working. Even if they don't really think it will.

Now I feel like blue and green are learning that in a different way by having their hard work and grinding mean absolutely nothing. They are working hard playing by the rules of purgatory, and they're losing! That's the point! This place sucks it hates you it isn't fair because it's not supposed to be. Red team is leaning on each other because it's the thing keeping them somewhat sane and alive. I personally can't wait to see Blue become more vicious and cruel because they've had two wins stolen or Green pull together to have a come back after being third twice now. They have to adapt to purgatory and when they likely will soon and when they do it will drive red to do worse and worse things to stay sane and the cycle will continue. Purgatory is about breaking you. Breaking your morals and friendships and hopes.

The rules are unfair because they want you to be unfair. Purgatory is hell and to survive it, to win it you have to be willing to be cruel or callouse or even cowardly. I entire point of the purgatory event is that everyone is supposed to come out having done something terrible, or they come out feeling like they didn't do all they could to save their children so there is no win. You either cross that line or accept that you are forfeiting your kids life. From a narrative stand point it is a great idea because it's shaking up the hornets nest and severing relationships once thought to be rock solid. *cough* Eitole, Fit, and Phil *cough* I don't even know where I'm going with this anymore I just think Purgatory was such a neat idea and makes for such an interesting rp senerio where role-playing is nearly impossible due to nature of the event.

[ruvviks]

Chapter >> 15 [x] Characters >> Cato Wu (oc), Matvey Dobrynin (oc), Mikhail Koshechkin (oc), Vincent Mayer (oc), Vitali Dobrynin (oc), a long list of side characters Total >> 10.7k words Warnings >> Alcohol, blood, brainwashing mention, chess mention :/, death, descriptions of suffocation, descriptions of throwing up, dissociation (sort of), drugs mention, gore, injuries, violence

It was August.

Summer had been relentless in Night City thus far; its citizens plagued by a combination of heatwaves, drought and extreme weather, regular sandstorms sweeping in from the Badlands and covering the streets in a thin layer of sand and dust.

It made sense most people tried to seek shelter from the sweltering heat as much as they could. Anyone who had the ability to move their business to the nightly hours gladly took this opportunity- which meant the already bustling streets came to life even more than usual after midnight and those looking for some peace and quiet were better off leaving town until fall.

As to be expected, most corporations cared very little about the hot temperatures in broad daylight and gladly continued to torture their employees with regular nine to five workdays, if not longer-

Most of the time, then, at least.

That day was an exception for anyone working for Arasaka. A paid day off, for once; followed by a grand event later that night at the corporation’s latest addition to their citywide facilities, with several news channels broadcasting live on location and rich and famous guests flying in from all over the world.

‘Everyone inside?’

‘Affirmative. How are we looking?’

‘Logging into their systems as we speak, jefe. Stand by.’

The entrance hall of the building was large and crowded. The central area bustled with people, who were holding conversations around round standing tables or on benches lined up against various big planters. Many had resorted to the two upper floors of the hall, their balconies overlooking the ground level; and bright neon holograms danced around on the high ceiling, bathing the facility’s interior in a soft, golden glow.

Vitali stood on the side of the hall, leaning with his shoulder against the wall and his head turned toward the large darkened glass window overlooking the facility’s courtyard. He was simply dressed in a black suit that evening; anything else would have drawn too much attention to him in the crowd of bland and boring corpo cunts, which was the exact opposite of what he wanted.

The lower half of his face was hidden behind a mask- a solid layer of armor, matte black with a few golden touches to signal to anyone whose gaze lingered on him for longer than necessary it was merely for aesthetic purposes. He knew very well the accessory could raise significant suspicion but with his face still present in Arasaka’s databases, walking into the lion’s den without some sort of covering would have been the equivalent of waltzing into a high security Militech base through the front door with a huge target taped to the forehead.

‘Clifford Thompson,’ Vincent suddenly said out loud, reading the name from the little name tag affixed to Vitali’s jacket. He reached up to the collar of Vitali’s shirt and fixed it for him, carefully undoing the top button as if not used to Vitali’s sudden, stiff demeanor. ‘Lovely name. Pick it yourself?’

‘Hm- Mikhail helped me with it,’ Vitali softly answered, a hint of a smile on his face behind the mask as he subconsciously brought the glass of champagne- given to him by a waiter who had obviously not looked him in the eye when they’d handed it to him- to his lips; before realizing he was very much unable to take a swig and he lowered it again, hoping nobody had seen it happen.

‘You have always looked like a Cliff to me,’ Mikhail said through their earpieces. ‘But- all jokes aside. Where is our good American friend right now?’

‘Stuffed in a closet.’ Vitali glanced into the direction of the people nearest to the two of them, and he gently pulled Vincent a little closer to him by his waist. ‘Should…not be a problem anymore.’

‘Just for now or permanently?’

A loud POP nearby caused Vitali to flinch lightly and he took a step toward Vincent, who instantly noticed his discomfort and reached up to soothingly run his fingers through Vitali’s hair. Some laughter followed- someone had simply opened yet another bottle of overly expensive alcohol and now demonstratively began pouring it into a new batch of empty glasses, the small crowd around them applauding for seemingly no reason at all.

‘It’s alright, baby,’ Vincent mumbled, standing up on his tiptoes to give Vitali a kiss on his cheekbone. ‘Just rich people doin’ their rich people stuff.’

Of course Vitali had not been invited to this event. Quite the opposite; him showing up there could prove disastrous for the corporation, considering what they were about to unveil alongside their newest facility.

Though he was not even there for any of that. It mattered very little to him- the announcement of the brainwashing program that had been tested on him dressed up as some overglorified renewed Secure Your Soul program was the very least of his worries at that moment, knowing what else was going on behind the scenes.

‘Eyes up, boss.’

Vitali glanced up at the ceiling, eyes slowly trailing the holograms before moving to the balconies. His gaze immediately caught those of two familiar faces on the first floor- Mikhail and Cato, both dressed up in Arasaka combat gear and leaning on the balustrade, the latter smiling and briefly waving at him before redirecting her attention to the rest of the ground floor below.

‘We’re nearing the security station,’ Huxley said over comms. ‘Five minutes until we’re set.’

‘Good. Lauren?’

‘I’m in. Two active runners in the building, dealing with ‘em as we speak. Hux, Shiro- wait for my signal.’

The entire operation was about as risky as they could make it. Not only Vitali, but Mikhail and Shiro too- all ex-Arasaka surrounded by nothing but Arasaka once more and on top of that considering how involved Vincent, Cato and Huxley had been with the corporation in the past, none of them should have even been there to begin with.

But who else could Vitali have sent? No one understood Arasaka Security better than Shiro and Mikhail, and he knew better than to try and separate Cato from her best friend on a gig. Trusted no one more than Huxley to escort Shiro and he needed Vincent by his side were he to come face to face with his father again.

Because yes, of course- Matvey would be there, too.

‘Vitali? You might want to come take a look at this.’

Some time had passed, after they had let Ravager go. Perhaps a foolish decision- taken by Vitali himself on impulse after he had found the merc in the midst of an intimate moment with Nadya. His own feelings had gotten in the way of his rational thinking; though without severe consequences thus far, considering Ravager had not shown his face anymore since.

‘Building blueprints?’ Vitali adjusted his reading glasses as he leaned forward, to take a closer look at Lauren’s screen. ‘Of what?’

‘The new Arasaka facility in Charter Hill,’ Lauren quietly answered. ‘They’re unveiling the location at the end of next week. Whole event planned around it. But this isn’t from Arasaka- I intercepted this from your father’s mercs.’

Vitali slowly let his gaze wander through the hall again, actively searching for anything out of the ordinary; security on the move, perhaps, or people’s eyes staring in his direction. His heart was rapidly beating in his chest and his breathing had become a little shallow- and the more time went by, the more nervous he became.

The feeling of Vincent’s hand on his cheek pulled him out of his thoughts and he turned to look at his boyfriend, who slowly positioned himself right in front of him and reached for Vitali’s hearing aid; he switched off the communication channel and did the same for his own earpiece, a soft, reassuring smile lingering on his face.

When Vitali had last seen his father, he had lost himself a little bit.

He’d gotten emotional- to the point he could now barely remember what had exactly happened that day. The sight of his old mercenaries, everything Dusty had said to him; his father’s almost mockingly calm demeanor, how he had bluntly told Vitali it had been Nadya’s decision alone to cut ties with him after he had left home-

‘What if we can’t stop him?’ Vitali quietly asked, allowing Vincent to release the clip of his mask and carefully pull it down, just enough to be able to see the lower half of his face. ‘What if we’re too late?’

‘Nothing’s happened yet,’ Vincent hummed in response and leaned in to press a soft kiss on the corner of Vitali’s mouth. ‘We’ll stop him, okay? I’ll make sure of it.’

Another soft touch of Vincent’s hand on his cheek and it nearly moved Vitali to tears. Men had come and gone throughout the years, yet none of them had ever been as gentle with him as Vincent was every single second they spent together.

His gaze slowly moved over Vincent’s features- the suit he wore, similar in fashion as Vitali’s- his buzz cut, with the little scar on the side of his head cutting into his hair- and his bright, hazel green eyes worriedly looking back up at him- and Vitali closed his eyes and turned to kiss Vincent’s fingertips, and for a brief moment it was just the two of them alone in that void, instead of in a large Arasaka hall.

For a brief moment, he felt safe.

‘Ladies and gentlemen- Attention, please!’

Vincent quickly clipped Vitali’s mask back in place, his hand lingering on his face just a little longer before he switched both their comms back on and turned to see who had spoken up. People had moved away from the large window wall overlooking the courtyard and a woman had taken position in front of it; she wore a deep red dress with black accents and the feigned smile on her face was just a little too broad for Vitali’s liking.

Silence washed over the hall and the woman began talking again- an introductory speech in Japanese, and Vitali was only partially listening. His gaze slowly trailed the hall once more; kept a close eye on their surroundings now that things were being set in motion, his jaw tightly clenched underneath his mask.

‘The event- Can you get us in?’

‘I can try.’ Lauren paused, a nervous sigh leaving her lips as she rapidly clicked through more of the intercepted information. ‘It’s all very high profile; might have to take the back door for this.’

And how they had.

They had needed to hijack an escort to enter via the garage- all except Vitali and Vincent dressed as Arasaka Security by the time they’d reached their destination, and they had needed to climb their way up an abandoned elevator shaft to get to ground level without needing to access the main network for the elevator codes.

One way in, no way out. Part of why it was such a risky operation; all the entrances were heavily guarded and even the garage itself would not be a quick escape were they to get caught.

A risk, yet an opportunity at the same time.

Applause rose up from the crowds in the hall and on the balconies and Vitali’s gaze was drawn back to the woman. She had stepped aside now- the creepy smile once again plastered on her face- and a tall, skinny man with an equally as creepy smile had taken her place instead-

Grant Armitage.

Some seemingly random Arasaka exec with “his greasy little fingers stuck right up Yorinobu’s golden ass”, as Vincent had described him a few days prior. Just another guy who had been put in a position he was barely ready for but wanted more than anything in his life- irrelevant in the bigger picture, but not to Vitali.

‘Covert operation,’ Mikhail said, crossing his arms in front of his chest and leaning back against the wall. ‘We cannot take many people and nearest backup will be at least ten minutes away with NCPD road blocks.’

‘You’re right.’ Vitali paused and licked his lips, a dangerous sparkle in his eyes as he looked from Lauren to Mikhail and back.

‘We cannot take many people. And neither can Matvey.’

‘Thank you all so much for being here with us this fine evening,’ Armitage began his speech, chuckling when more applause erupted from the crowd and he raised his hands in an attempt to get people to settle down. ‘Please, please- It truly is an honor to be standing here right now.’

Vitali was barely listening to the man- who rambled on endlessly, thanking all his superiors for this opportunity and talking about Arasaka’s reorganization following the events of the year before- and instead merely stared at him, eyes fixed on his forehead as if he was expecting a red dot to appear right in the center of it-

‘This facility is- It’s a beacon of hope.’

Armitage briefly paused, clasping his hands together in front of his chest as he took a few steps back. ‘A new chapter in the history of Arasaka- in the future of Arasaka, one that opens up many new pathways for us to explore. Because, ladies and gentlemen- what I am about to show you is guaranteed to blow new life into this entire corporation.’

‘Very excited to hear where this is going,’ Cato said. ‘Wonder how they’ll make brainwashing sound like a good thing. “Hey, wanna get your precious memories wiped? Join our new program now!” Fuckin’ weirdos.’

‘They will rebrand it as a medical tool,’ Vitali plainly answered, while Armitage talked about the shortcomings of the Secure Your Soul program and how they had decided to change its purpose, use the technology for something new.

‘Effectively deal with trauma by simply taking it away. Undesirable trait removal can be used by NCPD, Militech- and learning a new skill within seconds can be marketed as anything. If you could become a master at playing the piano by installing a single, Arasaka-run program to your brain, would you not do that?’

‘Hm, can’t say I’m a fan. You?’

‘Absolutely not. But there are people out there who would kill for it.’

Silence fell over their communication line as Armitage continued his speech- a carefully crafted introduction of Arasaka’s APEX program, met with soft gasps and murmuring from the crowd, and Vitali’s chest tightened when the man began listing essentially everything he himself had just said; as if he had read his notes beforehand, as if he had known.

Of course that was not true. He’d had no way of knowing what the man would say- had simply just worked for Arasaka himself long enough to know exactly how they operated and to know exactly what they would use their new technology for.

But everyone on the line stayed quiet. Vitali could feel Vincent’s eyes on him.

Vitali felt a soft tap on his shoulder and blinked a few times, slowly returning to the large hall he was stood in. He had zoned out; and Mikhail was trying to get his attention, only his hands and lips moving as he spoke and no actual sound leaving his mouth.

‘Wonder how long we will have to stand here,’ he said, visibly cringing when the Arasaka exec holding their speech made a horrible joke which was met with what Vitali sincerely hoped was nothing but fake laughter.

‘These kind of people love to hear themselves talk,’ Vitali simply replied, a sharp edge to the movements of his hands. ‘If we’re lucky we will be allowed to leave sometime tomorrow morning.’

‘Think about it!’ Armitage clapped his hands loudly and unexpectedly and Vitali’s heart skipped a beat- he could feel himself starting to become a little light-headed and quickly balled his fist, digging his nails into the palm of his hand in a desperate attempt to stay calm.

‘Just one datashard away from fluently speaking another language- just one datashard away from excelling at any sports, just one datashard away from becoming an engineer, or a surgeon, or a world famous musician!’

‘I don’t like this,’ Mikhail suddenly quietly said, the slightly miserable tone clearly audible to Vitali. ‘Some people have studied years for that. Does that just mean nothing anymore, now?’

‘It is faulty technology, anyway,’ Vitali softly responded. ‘Being good at sports because of a datashard does not suddenly mean your body is ready to handle such intense exercise. You can download any sort of textbook knowledge to your brain but that does not mean you have the feel for a job- you will never have the muscle memory necessary to get tasks to become routine work, and you will never be able to improvise on the spot if a situation calls for it.’

Vitali allowed his gaze to wander through the room, scanning the faces of the people- his co-workers- standing around him. Sometimes he truly wondered how many of them were actually happy to be there and how many of them were pretending, like he himself at that point.

He had been happy there, once. He still was not sure how or why.

‘This technology is the first step toward allowing human beings to use the full capacity of their brains,’ Armitage continued, his voice steadily climbing in volume and exuberance, like an orchestra working towards its crescendo. ‘Imagine what we could do- what we could achieve- when we no longer have to worry about our shortcomings, and possible failures!’

Vitali was starting to feel sick.

He often wondered how it would be to leave. It would not be easy, he knew that much; his loyalty pledge still had a good amount of years to it and attempting to leave any time before that would probably cost him his head- and most likely quite literally so.

The hall seemed to spin before his eyes and he accidentally bit his tongue, the familiar taste of iron spilling into his mouth. The gravity of the situation had suddenly kicked in- what he had thought to be the least of his worries now screaming for attention right in front of him- and he could not help but think about all the people that would be turned into braindead, fully compliant soldiers by corporations once the program would be released to the public-

The Arasaka exec finally finished talking.

‘Last speech I am ever listening to,’ Mikhail said, rubbing the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes.

‘Me too.’ Vitali paused, checking his watch and clenching his jaw. ‘About fucking time it ended. I have to meet Jenkins before leaving the office- something about the European Space Agency. Don’t wait up, yes? I’ll see you tomorrow.’

And with that, Armitage’s speech ended.

Another round of applause, louder now, and it lasted longer- Vitali’s head was thrumming and heavy and the noise around him swallowed him whole, ripping him away from reality as he exhaled sharply and sank into the wall.

Vincent said something to him, but he could barely hear his voice; his vision was blurry, dark spots dancing in front of his eyes as every muscle in his torso tightened and yelled at him to sit down, to sink to the floor and curl up into a little ball and disappear, wash away into the sea of people surrounding him and drown in all the noise-

He is going to kill Armitage.

Vitali managed to suck in a deep breath and he straightened his back, regaining his composure within mere seconds. A sudden clarity washed over him- his fear of what his father was planning to do instantly shutting down the building panic attack.

He could not afford to lose focus now; he had things to do.

‘I’m okay,’ he managed to say, only now realizing Vincent was still trying to get his attention, and he quickly placed his glass on a nearby table. ‘Sorry- I got a little overwhelmed for a second.’

Technically not a lie. Realization after realization kicking in for him to the point he had been sure for a second he was going to pass out- but he knew very well if anything like that were to happen, none of them would make it out of the facility alive.

Whatever Arasaka was planning to do with their new program, was a problem for later. Hanako was still alive; hiding, for the time being, recovering from the very same technology Vitali and Rogue had been under the influence of- the very same technology presented by Grant Armitage that evening.

She could put a stop to it, easily. Cancel the program, kick Yorinobu out; the lesser of two evils, if you asked Vitali, but considering the limited amount of options to his disposal and the fact he was simply just a man against one of the world’s largest megacorporations- Hanako really wasn’t that bad.

Vitali inhaled sharply and instinctively reached to the wall to grab his cane; only to remember he had not taken it with him that night. Both that and the large, exoskeleton-like leg brace would have- you guessed it- drawn too much attention to him.

So instead he took Vincent’s arm, making brief eye-contact and hoping that the soft, grateful smile behind his mask was visible in his eyes.

Now that Armitage’s speech was over, people had turned back to their conversations and were moving through the hall again, laughter and chatter and the clinking of glasses filling Vitali’s ears. The man himself was in conversation with a few other corpos; he had walked away from the window a little bit, and lingered on the side of the hall close to one of the doors leading into the rest of the facility.

Vitali kept a close eye on the target as he allowed Vincent to guide him away from the wall and into the sea of people, trusting his boyfriend to find them a different strategic position in the hall. The noises around him made it difficult for him to make out anything of importance- but it did not matter all that much. It’s exactly why he hadn’t gone alone.

‘Nothing on cams yet,’ Lauren said. ‘Shiro?’

‘All clear. Their netrunners were operating from a subnet, it seems; I am decrypting it now, you will have access in a few.’

A relief, to finally have someone older and much, much wiser than Vitali on the team. Shiro’s expertise, everlasting patience and calm demeanor even in the most stressful of situations never failed to make him feel at ease, even if only a little bit due to the rest of the circumstances they found themselves in.

‘Vitali? I see him.’

Mikhail’s voice had changed tone from earlier, in a way Vitali could not quite place. His chest tightened immediately and he instinctively glanced up at the balcony, his heart once more beating rapidly in his chest-

As if he had known exactly where Matvey stood.

Dressed in a similar suit as Vitali and Vincent, simply to blend in with the rest of the crowd; he leaned on the balustrade and his eyes were fixed directly on Armitage, his fingers rhythmically tapping on the metal of the railing. Vitali was able to imagine the sound of his ring clinking against it.

He is going to kill Armitage.

And he is going to frame me for it.

He was still not sure how his father was planning on getting it done.

It did not matter all that much, either- killing Armitage couldn’t be difficult and frankly the only reason Vitali cared any of it was because of the consequences for him were he to be framed for the murder.

Perhaps Matvey had purposely dropped his own security measures to make sure Lauren would stumble upon the plan exchanges; perhaps he had purposely lured Vitali there. Perhaps his plan would not have worked if Vitali had simply decided to stay away.

But of course he had not been able to let this opportunity pass by. And he knew very well that Matvey was aware of that.

‘He’s leaving,’ Vincent quietly said, leaning in a little closer to be able to talk directly into Vitali’s ear. Vitali turned- Armitage had said his goodbyes and had made his way toward one of the doors, and he scanned a keycard to open it before vanishing through.

Vitali glanced up at the balcony again; Matvey was no longer there.

He slowly began moving back toward the door Armitage had left the hall through, holding on tightly to Vincent’s arm. He made sure to walk resolutely, but not too eager; radiating confidence without raising suspicion, to keep any unwanted, curious glances into their direction away.

His heart was racing in his chest again, palms of his hands a little sweaty and a cold shiver running up and down his spine. Far from the first dangerous gig he had been on in his time, but not at any point had he ever been more nervous than he was right then and there, chasing after his father and the man he was going to kill.

Vitali to blame- and then what? The Council would put him through the meat grinder for starting a war with Arasaka of all corporations.

The two of them passed a security guard in conversation with some guests on their way there and Vincent snatched their dangling keycard off their belt without batting an eye. Handed it to Vitali, briefly glanced around as they ascended the steps- and with a swipe, a beep and a click the door opened a second time and granted them access to the rest of the facility’s interior.

‘See you on cams, jefe. Turn left, staircase. He’s still in there.’

This was it.

Vitali knew they wouldn’t have a lot of time, well aware his father was not going to simply stand around and wait for him to show up. A frightening thought, as he and Vincent began ascending the stairs; but he did not let it get to him, using the moment to finally take off his mask and suit’s jacket and toss them aside before he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

‘Where’s Matvey?’ Vincent asked, following Vitali’s lead- and mimicking his actions, taking off his jacket and exposing his forearms, readying himself for whatever situation they were venturing into.

‘Unsure, can’t see him yet. Possibly still making his way to some stairs- or an elevator. Heads up, Armitage just arrived on the fifth floor.’

Vitali instinctively increased his pace and reached into the back of his pants to take out his gun; had spared himself a lecture on gun safety by putting it there when he’d been out of Mikhail’s line of sight earlier that evening.

Three, four, five-

Deep breaths, stay calm. Through another door, enter the fifth floor; an empty hallway at first glance, signature matte black walls with red details covering the surface, hardwood floorboards below his feet.

‘Turn right.’

Their footfalls, no matter how light and careful, echoed through the hallway, bouncing between the walls and effectively announcing their presence to anyone possibly nearby; but Vitali cared very little about that now. Anyone who would show would be dealt with, any security footage would be wiped before Arasaka could get their hands on it- and even if they would find out someone had been there, there’d be no way they could tie it back to him as long as Matvey would remain unseen as well and as long as Armitage wouldn’t die.

‘Matvey is on the fourth right now, making his way up. Think there’s some mercs dressed as security- Mish, Cato?’

‘On it. Shiro, do you have eyes on us?’

‘Affirmative. Security measures have been taken care of, I am unlocking doors for you now.’

‘Still ahead of ‘im,’ Vincent said, quickly jogging up to Vitali to catch up. ‘How do you wanna play this, boss?’

They turned a corner and before Vitali could answer, he noticed movement- instantly grabbed Vincent’s arm and dragged him back, pressing his own back against the wall and catching his boyfriend the second he tripped over his own feet and fell forward. He was met with a puzzled look- and in return simply placed his gun against his lips, signaling for Vincent to stay quiet.

‘Three guards, Vito,’ Lauren said. ‘Looks like regular security to me. V- Can you hack ‘em from there?’

Vitali kept his eyes on Vincent, unblinking as he watched him take in Lauren’s words and slowly nod to himself before carefully peeking into the hallway. Another glance at Vitali- a quick get ready signed and mouthed at him- and his irises lit up bright green as he unleashed a quickhack on the guards.

Contagion, probably. Signature move.

Of course Vitali was right.

The silence was broken by a yelp in pain from one of the guards, followed by audible confusion from the others; a few seconds passed before they themselves did the exact same, Vincent’s quickhack rapidly burning through their skulls.

Vitali handled quickly; pushed his gun in Vincent’s hands and yanked a small combat knife from his belt instead while slipping past him into the hallway and charging at his enemies to close the distance as fast as he could-

Blink.

Silence.

A sharp, sudden exhale left Vitali’s chest and he nearly choked on his own shallow breaths, stumbling back while trying to catch himself and regain his balance. The knife was still in his hand, like before- though drenched in blood now, like the front of his shirt, like his forearms, like the floor and the armor and clothes of the dead Arasaka security guards at his feet.

‘Good job,’ Lauren casually said over comms, her voice causing him to jump. ‘Think that was all. Hurry- Matvey’s closing in on Armitage. Get to the offices.’

Vitali was barely paying attention to her, his eyes still focused on the carnage around him. His stomach was doing somersaults in his body- he tried to take a step back and nearly fell again, the floor below his feet slippery because of the amount of-

Surely three small stab wounds couldn’t do that. How many times had he-?

‘Hey.’

Vincent’s voice was soft. Gentle, still, despite-

What happened?

Vitali winced when Vincent took his hand and tugged on it, carefully guiding him away from the bodies. His foot almost got caught behind someone’s arm and he nearly fell a second time; but Vincent caught him with ease and gave him a reassuring kiss on his cheek.

When he pulled back, Vitali was no longer holding the knife.

His head felt heavy, his confusion like a thick cloud weighing down on him as he watched Vincent wipe the knife on his pants and stick it in his own belt afterwards. Another glance over his shoulder; his gaze lingered on the bodies again causing his head to spin, and he quickly redirected his attention to the hallway in front of them.

Nearly there. It’s nearly over.

‘Got a situation over here,’ Cato suddenly said, her voice sharp in Vitali’s earpiece. ‘Don’t think we’ll make it there in time. V, you got this?’

‘All good,’ Vincent replied, glancing at Vitali as he spoke- it was easy to tell he was becoming nervous, his shoulders tense and his thumb repeatedly moving over the side of his index finger. ‘Be careful.’

‘“Careful” is my middle name, et cetera, and so on. Hey, Shiro- little help?’

‘I have locked the squad in for now. They’re going around the other way- buys you approximately three more minutes before they get to your position. Turn left at the end of the hallway, get to weapon storage.’

Vitali only half listened to the chatter on comms, a heavy thrumming filling his head as they moved through the facility as quickly as they could. The further he walked, the longer the hallway seemed to become- as if it was growing in size along with him, actively stopping him from getting there in time, actively stopping him from preventing Armitage’s death-

‘FUCK!’

Loud static overtook the line and Vincent and Vitali winced at the same time, stopping in the midst of their tracks and reaching for their ear- but as sudden as the noise had started it ended again and several seconds of dead silence followed.

Vitali’s gaze found Vincent’s and a rush of panic made the hairs on his arms stand up straight, a heavy weight pressing down on his chest as he realized what was happening. Cato called out Lauren’s name, her voice barely audible over the line- but Vitali could hear the panic spilling from her lips.

‘Lauren? Baby-? Talk to me!’

They couldn’t stop now.

He took some hesitant steps forward, hand still lingering in the air near his ear and eyes still fixed on Vincent who followed suit. Every second they spent waiting would be a second wasted and despite his heart nearly beating out of his chest from fear, he couldn’t stand around any longer.

‘Lauren! Please say something-’

‘Lauren? Your signal has dropped. What’s going on?’

‘Talk to me, baby, please-!’

‘I’m here, I’m here-! I’m okay.’

A wave of relief washed over Vitali, his eyes fluttering shut as he momentarily slowed his pace. Not dead- but something was definitely still wrong.

Her voice sounded distant. Distorted.

‘Someone’s in the systems,’ Lauren continued, ‘trying to block me out- can’t reach the main servers anymore- there’s- I’ve lost visual- no way that I-’

Silence.

‘Another runner is active,’ Shiro suddenly said, an unexpected questioning undertone to his voice. ‘A source outside the facility- Matvey’s, perhaps? I cannot reconnect with Lauren but she seems to be attempting to distract them.’

‘Can’t catch a fuckin’ break, can we?’ Vincent mumbled and the both of them began running now, closing the distance between themselves and the offices in the other section of the building. Nothing else they could do for Lauren- but Vitali just hoped she was alright.

He did not know where exactly they had to be- but it wasn’t necessary to search anyway. The light was on in only one of the rooms- Armitage’s very own office no less- and the slightly ajar door already told him enough. He reached out to Vincent and took the gun from him, then shouldered his way inside the office-

‘Vitali! Right on time.’

Vitali raised the gun and held it steady in his hand, a deep exhale leaving his chest as he slowly moved aside to allow Vincent access to the office as well. His eyes rapidly moved over the scenario playing out in front of him- Armitage to his right, standing behind his desk with his hands up, his face pale and his mouth half open as if he had been mid-speaking- and he kept his weapon solidly aimed at Matvey, stood right in front of him with his own gun pointed at Armitage’s head.

‘Put the gun down,’ Vitali said, still trying to catch his breath and his gaze briefly moving over the second exit of the room- a door behind Armitage, slightly ajar- before redirecting his attention to his father. ‘I won’t say it again.’

A brief silence washed over the room and Vitali’s attention was drawn back to his communication line; he had not switched channels nor had he turned it off, yet it was surprisingly quiet as if Cato and Mikhail were too preoccupied with fighting Matvey’s mercenaries and as if Shiro and Huxley had been completely cut off, like Lauren before them.

Matvey tilted his head to the side, a hint of a smile lingering on his lips. He appeared entirely unbothered by Vitali’s gun; as if he knew his son would be unable to pull the trigger either way and he turned back to his target without saying a single word.

'Why are you doing this?’ Vitali blurted out, steadying his aim with his other hand and straightening his back, a futile attempt at intimidation as the quiver of his lower lip already gave him away. ‘If anything this will simply prove to the Council I am no longer with Arasaka-’

'Is that so?’

Bingo.

One thing Vitali had learned from previous encounters is that Matvey loved to talk; and with that secondary exit nearly within reach for Armitage and how Vitali could tell from the corner of his eye that the man was trying to make his escape, it was exactly what they needed.

‘As far as they’re concerned, you still have ties to Arasaka,’ Matvey continued, eyes slowly moving between Vitali and Armitage. ‘As far as they're concerned, you are the Broker- out for their blood.’

Vitali’s initial relief when his father’s monologuing had started was washed away instantly by another wave of anxiety, his teeth clacking together and jaw involuntarily clenching the more his father spoke.

‘You see, Vitali- you would not be the first power-hungry corpo whose jealousy leads them down a path of in-fighting with murder as grand finale.’ Matvey paused, the corner of his mouth slightly twitching as he gestured with the gun in his hand. ‘Your precious “Council” will either fall for the narrative I am serving them on a plate, or they will simply believe you have gone mad and are trying to start a war with Arasaka.’

Somehow, his father knew exactly which buttons to press; knew exactly what to say to throw Vitali off, to make him lose focus- and his heart skipped a beat as he finally realized Matvey had already been several steps ahead of him long before they had stumbled upon his plans to attack the new Arasaka facility.

If he had simply stayed away, none of this would have happened.

‘Either way, they will not be on your side.’ Matvey briefly paused, eyes moving over Vincent- who had not moved since the second he had positioned himself next to Vitali- and then back to Vitali. ‘Not to mention Arasaka is still looking for you. They know you're on the Council; they will want to get rid of everyone on it. And I win.'

I win.

Matvey’s plans to deal with the system of fixers and mercenaries in Night City- getting his revenge on Vitali for supposedly taking everything away from him- and getting his revenge on Arasaka for firing him in the first place- all neatly coming together right in the middle.

The leaked plans, an open invitation for Vitali to walk right into the trap.

And he had taken the bait without hesitation.

'That's all this is to you?’ Vitali quietly asked, slowly lowering his gun. ‘A game?'

'I suppose it is.’ Another small smile appeared on Matvey’s face- pure triumph dripping from his expression, already shamelessly celebrating his victory.

‘And you have made for a lousy opponent.'

Checkmate.

Vitali couldn’t do it.

‘Vitali?’

He stopped in the midst of his tracks, the flashlight of his phone illuminating the dark hallway- and Matvey stood on the other side, already dressed in his working attire, reading glasses on his nose.

‘Party lasted a little longer than I had thought,’ Vitali instantly blurted out, well aware it was nearly five in the morning- well aware he had school in only a few hours, and well aware he had not even been allowed to go in the first place.

Of course he couldn’t do it- from the moment he had realized what options he had left, he had known he would not be able to kill his father, if it were to come down to that.

He stood frozen to the ground as Matvey walked over to him, trying to think of anything else to say; something that would hopefully soften the blow, a half-assed insincere apology as always, feeling more guilty about having been caught than having disobeyed his parents in the first place-

But his father merely reached out for him and plucked what appeared to be a half smoked cigarette out of his hair.

‘Drink some water, then go to bed,’ he said. ‘I will leave a note for your mother saying that you threw up and will be staying home. Just- try to help her out a little today, yes? For me.’

Vitali let his arm fall limp past his body, gun slightly swaying as he glanced from Armitage back to his father. His heart had settled down, every previous worry he’d had slowly washed away until he was left with nothing but emptiness in his chest; and a soft scoff left his lips before he spoke again-

'Good thing I've never liked chess anyway.'

Everything happened very quickly.

Matvey’s gun was still pointed in Armitage’s direction, though the second he redirected his attention to his target the triumphant smile vanished from his face causing Vitali to turn his head as well- right in time to see the door open and someone walk up to the target from behind and slit his throat with a knife.

‘Shit-!’ Vincent yelled and Vitali winced when blood splattered on the desk and on his shirt and face, and he took a defensive step back as he instantly raised his weapon again in the direction of the newcomer.

Armitage tried to gasp for air, visibly tried to speak- but the only sound leaving his throat was that of blood bubbling up in his windpipe and desperate gags and whimpers as he fell forward, head hitting the edge of his desk on his way to the floor.

Silence.

'Junior and Senior in the same room together- what a pleasant surprise!’

Ravager stepped into the light of the office, a wide shark-like grin on his face as he twirled the bloodied knife between his cybernetic fingers. Vitali took another step back, ignoring his father’s cursing in Russian and ignoring the quiet noises that were still leaving Armitage’s throat from behind the desk, backing away until his shoulder found Vincent’s and he positioned himself in front of him.

‘Wow.’ The cyborg paused and slightly tilted his head, his eyes moving between Matvey and Vitali a few times and he clicked his tongue. ‘You really are a child of your father, huh.’

‘What the fuck-!’ Vincent interrupted the moment, slightly pushing Vitali aside as he wildly gestured at Ravager, disbelief and pure shock spilling from his expression as he pulled out Vitali’s knife and steadied it in his hand.

‘What?’ the man yelled back with equal force. ‘He’s dead, right? Isn’t that why we’re all gathered here tonight?’

‘Not like this!’ Matvey sneered, in sync with Vitali’s exasperated, ‘No!’ They both turned their heads to look at each other- and for a split second, Vitali swore he could see wild panic in his father’s eyes.

A sudden, short alarm blared through the room, followed by an announcement in Japanese, then repeated in English- though Vitali was not paying attention to either versions, his attention still on the situation playing out in front of him- and the deafening silence on comms.

‘You two have your fuckin’ issues, you know that?’ Ravager scoffed and kicked against Armitage’s body. ‘The man is dead. You are welcome.’

Vitali’s brain was struggling to keep up. He had accepted defeat- had accepted what was going to happen and had accepted the consequences, and now none of it seemed to matter anymore and none of it made sense to him.

‘Now…’

Ravager slowly walked around the desk, grin spreading again as he pointed the tip of his knife at Matvey. ‘Where is my reward? My eddies? All of them, for that matter- you’re a bit behind on payment, Dobrynin.’

‘I assumed you were dead,’ Matvey coldly replied, still holding his gun but for some reason making no effort to get Ravager to stop walking.

‘So you did, huh.’

Ravager briefly glanced in Vitali’s direction- and he once more regretted not killing the man when he’d had the chance. He should’ve dealt with him after Dupoint had been killed, should’ve gotten rid of him before anything else could go wrong-

But he had been unable to do so, for some reason. Perhaps he had wanted to prove to his friends that he was not like his father.

Well, surprise, old man- I am as alive as I’ve ever been!’ Ravager gestured at Vitali, and a snicker left his throat. ‘Managed to leave his office in more shambles than you’ve managed to do, thus far. Maybe it’s time to pass the torch to someone else, don’t you think?’

‘Sir, there is security on the way. Get ready!’

Shiro’s voice had the same distortion as Lauren’s had had earlier and Vitali clenched his jaw tightly, instinctively taking a step back as his gaze was drawn toward the two exits of the room- and right as he looked, the door behind Ravager swung open and several guards barged in.

Vitali sank through his knees and ducked out of the way, finding cover behind the open door next to him to dodge incoming gunfire. Vincent followed his lead and vanished into the hallway- but Vitali lingered in the doorway, attention for some reason still on his father-

He was kneeling behind a desk. Ravager was fighting the guards by himself.

Matvey turned his head, and their gazes found each other in the middle-

Vitali was yanked out of the room by Vincent by his arm and he nearly lost his balance as he rose to his feet, stumbling after the other man as they darted into a different hallway together than before to try and shake off more incoming guards. A disorienting move, for some reason; Vitali was dizzy and could barely see straight anymore, vision fading and thick and heavy clouds rolling in from the back of his mind-

Blink.

‘What if it can be activated, Vitya? I don’t want to end up in their control again.’

Vitali sat on Viktor’s surgery chair, legs pulled up to his chest and chin placed miserably on his knees. Viktor wheeled himself through the shop on his chair back toward him and shook his head, reaching out and giving him a reassuring pat on his arm.

‘The effects will wear off soon enough,’ he said. ‘As long as you try to keep your stress levels low and don’t think about any of the memories too much, you should be just fine.’

Vitali scoffed. ‘Easier said than done.’

‘I know, kid. Keep the topic in the back of your mind for now. No need to bring any of it up- no need to think about Arasaka, either. We will work through all that once you feel like you’re in control of your own head again, alright?’

Coming there was a mistake.

A shaky exhale left Vitali’s lips as he took another sudden step forward, only just able to catch himself before he would fall face first on the ground. He did not recognize the room he was in- simply another office with the same dull walls and desks as the rest of the building, but whether it was on the sixth floor or the fourth or perhaps the thirtieth and how much time had passed in the meantime-

He had no idea.

‘V? Where are you?’ he shakily asked, though realized the second the words left his lips he only heard static on the line- had lost connection with everyone else and he did not even know why, or how, or when it had happened.

Of course going back would cause everything to resurface- memories from his time working there, memories from his time in their captivity, memories that Viktor had warned him for- and now Vitali found himself slipping again, the dissociative states he had thought to no longer have to deal with forcing their way back into his system and taking away his agency.

He indecisively wandered into the hallway, trying to piece together where he was- where everyone else was- and he was pushed out of the way by people running by in a wild panic, yelling at each other at the top of their lungs as some sought shelter in one of the rooms while others continued through the hallway to get to a staircase or an elevator.

Still one of the lower floors, then. Perhaps. Perhaps not-?

Vitali moved along with the crowd, his hands empty- he had probably lost his gun somewhere- and Armitage’s blood still on his shirt and face, though it could very well simply be his own to anyone paying attention to him. He noticed a squad of Arasaka Security emerging from around the corner, and instantly vanished into another office again to hide.

An empty one, much to his relief.

Vitali closed the door behind him and a shaky sigh left his lips, hand restlessly running through his hair as he walked over to the windows on the other side of the office. It was still a significant way down to the roads below; climbing out and attempting to use the windowsills to navigate down would most likely not go well for him and he quickly pushed the idea out of his head.

Just get back to the garage, steal a car, and leave.

He would find his way back to the others later. He simply just had to get out.

‘There you are!’

Vitali turned around but before he could do anything his vision faded from a hard impact against his cheek and he fell, weightless for a split second before his body painfully hit the ground and his head collided with the wooden floorboards. He rolled on his side, setting his hand down on the floor to try and push himself up; though was kicked in his stomach and when he opened his eyes, Ravager sat down on top of him and tried to get a hold of his wrists.

‘You know, I was gonna let you walk,’ he said, fighting off Vitali’s struggling with ease and pinning his hands above his head as he leaned down, his rancid breath mixed with the strong smell of blood and liquor making him gag. ‘Was simply gonna leave you alone, but then I thought- why? Why the fuck would I?’

Another grin spread on Ravager’s face and he grabbed Vitali’s jaw with his free hand, forcing him to look him in the eyes. ‘You kept me in that fucking room for so long- d’you have any idea how boring it was in there?’

Vitali’s heart was nearly beating out of his chest and he tried once more to free his hands, but Ravager had him pinned to the ground with no way out. He spat in the man’s face and kicked his leg up, but missed his target- but it still caused Ravager to curse and briefly loosen his grip, giving Vitali the opportunity to push the man off himself.

He tried scrambling to his feet, but was pushed down again before he could do anything. Another rush of adrenaline surged through his system and he activated the mantis blade on his left arm, turning on his back and swinging it up in a desperate attempt to land a hit on Ravager- yet before he could even get close, the man reached out to him and grabbed the blade with his cybernetic hand and he-

There were different types of cybernetic enhancements to a person’s body.

Many residents of Night City settled for decorative cyberware- lines and shapes in all colors and sizes to enhance their appearance more than anything else, to show off status or wealth, or simply in the same sense as how one would get a tattoo or a piercing.

Though other cyberware was a lot more invasive. Think of prosthetics, of enhancements to the bones, to organs- medical cyberware, meant to keep someone alive, to relieve pain- or combat cyberware, set deep within one’s arms or legs.

Vitali’s mantis blades were a special model.

One of a kind, in fact, done by Viktor Vektor himself, seemingly invisible until activated- and a lot less invasive than most other models, the placement of the blade a lot more superficial to the point it had not been necessary to change anything about the anatomy of his arm.

A pleasant outcome. Vitali had always feared the consequences of having mantis blades installed- perhaps needing to have his forearms replaced with prosthetics from the start or, in case of installation within the anatomy of his own arms, the possibility of his hands going numb and then needing replacements anyway further down the line.

Yet at the same time it meant that the blades’ connection to his body was less secure than it was for others with different models. It meant that, with his nervous system still intact, he could still feel any and every sensation in his forearms. It meant that the slightest tug on the base of the cyberware could feel the same as a forceful tug on his arm.

And it meant that when Ravager grabbed the blade with his high-powered cybernetic prosthetic and violently pulled it toward him, he effectively ripped it off Vitali’s body, the bolts and plating in his arm yanked loose from the force and his skin and flesh breaking and tearing as the base of his cyberware came loose and left a gaping hole in his arm.

Vitali’s breath got caught in his throat, wide eyes fixed on his arm as dark red red blood rapidly began to well up from the open wound and spilled over his skin and shirt and dripped onto the floor. All the muscles in his upper body tensed up at once and he lost consciousness- though only for a split second and suddenly he was turned on his stomach and screaming his lungs out while clutching his arm to his body as the pain spread like a wildfire through his shoulder and neck and torso.

‘Come here, you little piece of shit-!’ Ravager yelled, grabbing Vitali’s collar as he dragged him up and tossed him against the wall. He straddled his lap again, hands wrapping tightly around Vitali’s neck- and Vitali’s cries of pain stopped as he tried to suck in a last, shallow breath and his vision began to fade.

He knew what dying felt like.

It had happened before. He had been shot- bleeding from the chest, staring up at the cloudy sky, raindrops gently falling on his cold skin- the sky crying with him, a lamenting “I’m sorry” in his final moments, and he’d had to watch Vincent cry and beg for him to tell him what to do, how to save him.

Had tried to grab his hands, had tried to speak- but oh, Vitali had not even been able to tell Vincent that he loved him before the light in his eyes had temporarily gone out.

He struggled in Ravager’s grip, tears rolling down his cheeks as his bloodied hands tried to unhook the man’s fingers from his throat. He could feel himself slipping again- eyes wandering off to the window on his left, finding the pitch black sky- but it took long, way longer than last time; a vicious “fuck you” in his final moments, the pain gnawing away on his bones and tearing through flesh and muscle and nerve and ripping him apart from the inside out-

BANG!

‘Okay, hold on. To summarize- you were caught coming home from a party in the early morning hours? While drunk AND stoned? And you’re trying to tell me your father let you walk away from that alive?’

Vitali scoffed and kicked Mikhail against his arm, tapping his cigarette on the edge of the ashtray as he slightly shifted position on the windowsill. Mikhail snickered and took a sip of his beer, stretching his own leg out over Vitali’s lap and he redirected his attention to the rainy scenery of the city outside.

‘Mother turned me into a housemaid for the day, but at least I didn’t have to go to school,’ Vitali mumbled, his gaze wandering back to the window as well. ‘Look- I’m just glad they didn’t ground me again.’

‘Good thing your father found you, then. And not Nadya.’

‘Yeah. Yeah, I suppose.’

Silence.

Vitali sat frozen on the floor, face covered in blood- partially his own, but mostly Ravager’s, whatever human aspect had been left of his face now blown into tiny little bits and sticking to Vitali’s skin and hair, the corpse heavy on his chest and the remnants of its head resting on his shoulder.

He sucked in a shaky breath, struggling to push Ravager’s dead body off of him as his arms refused to cooperate. The man’s head rolled to the side, the gaping exit wound the bullet had left in his forehead right in front of Vitali’s face and a quiet whimper left his lips as he tried to crawl away from the body.

He was shaking all over- barely able to keep his hands still, his arm now mostly numb and bloodied to the point he wasn’t able to tell anymore how badly he was bleeding. Unable to drag his gaze away from the dead body limp against the wall, still feeling the man’s hands wrapped around his neck, still able to smell his rotten breath, still able to perfectly recall the memory of Ravager holding Nadya and kissing her-

Vitali finally looked up.

His father stood in the doorway. Gun in his hand, pointed at Vitali’s head.

The alarms in the building had stopped. Dead silence washed over the room- except for Vitali’s quiet, strangled sobs as he once more clutched his arm to his chest and tried to get back up on his feet.

His heart was beating wildly in his chest and he turned his head away, breathing becoming unstable as the pain once more overtook him. He tried to speak- the taste of blood strong on his tongue and he gagged and coughed and whatever fluids had been in his mouth and throat splattered down onto the floor and over the hand he was leaning on.

‘Please,’ he quietly cried, turning his head to look up at Matvey again- he had lowered his gun and still stood at the entrance of the office, unmoving-

Vitali’s vision was too blurred by tears for him to tell what exactly he was looking at.

He tried to speak again- could barely hear himself anymore over the loud buzzing and humming in his ears and head and his vision faded again until he could see nothing but pitch black darkness, swallowing him whole yet not nearly enough to cause him to lose consciousness again.

Please.

He was scared.

Of course he was; he had been from the very beginning.

From the moment he had realized someone was watching his every move, from the moment he had realized someone was targeting him and his mercenaries- Vitali had been terrified, and he had never felt as alone as in that very moment, sitting on his knees in a pool of his own blood and vomit, covered in the remnants of Ravager’s head and clutching a bleeding arm to his chest.

His gaze met Matvey’s again-

And for a second, he saw him hesitate.

Something changed.

In that split second, every year they had spent apart, every minute of it- and every single thing that had happened since the Broker had started attacking him- none of it mattered anymore. And Vitali found himself back in the dark hallway of his old home, staring right at his father at nearly five in the morning after coming home from a party while Matvey was already getting ready for work.

Something was different.

But then he simply turned away, readying himself to leave.

‘Wait-!’ Vitali cried out before he could stop himself. But Matvey listened- yet only lowered his head and shook it ever so slightly, mumbling something incoherently in Russian while lifting his gun and checking his ammo-

‘Dad-!’

He froze.

And suddenly, how many bullets he still had left did not matter half as much to him as it had before.

Matvey frowned, a heavy weight pressing down on his chest as he turned his head again. Vitali had still not moved; seemingly unable to do so, severely injured, crying- and now calling out for him.

Curious, how it made him feel; he could only barely keep his breathing stable as his gaze once more trailed the room, eyes moving from Vitali to the body of Ravager and then quickly moving back, as if for some reason he was unable to look at the corpse for too long.

But looking at Vitali was not easy, either.

It had gone fine for so long- what was different, now? Vitali would live; he had his mercenaries with him in the building, they would find him and bring him home. And besides, with Armitage and Ravager dead there was still a chance for Matvey’s plan to succeed.

It did not matter much anymore, though.

And neither did any of it feel like a victory.

Vitali sobbed again, a noise that caused Matvey’s chest to tighten as he watched him sink back down against the wall and pull his legs closer to his chest- making himself as small as he could as if he was trying to disappear. He tried to speak; but choked on his own sobs and none of the words attempting to leave his lips came out coherently.

And Matvey found himself hesitating again; wondered if he should- if he could-

‘Get up, мое солнышко,’ he simply said; had meant it as mockery, kicking Vitali while he was already down- though for some reason his voice came out a lot softer than he had meant for, and for some reason the sharp and stinging hatred burning inside him was nowhere to be found, a wildfire extinguished by simply the sight of son.

‘You’re falling behind.’

And with that, Matvey walked away.

Another sob left Vitali’s lips and he closed his eyes. He was exhausted, no longer able to feel half his body and his heart finally slowing down though for all the wrong reasons. Mistake, after mistake, after mistake-

And in the end it had all been for nothing.

What had he ever been so hopeful for?

‘VITO-!’

Someone sat down next to him, cradled his face- Vitali did not even have to open his eyes, he recognized Vincent by touch alone and a relieved sigh left his chest as he pushed himself away from the wall and into his boyfriend’s arms.

‘Jesus, you’re- I thought you- What happened-? Oh. Oh, fuck.’

Vitali finally opened his eyes and grabbed Vincent’s shoulders, using him as support to get himself back up on his feet. Vincent said nothing as he allowed Vitali to do so, his face pale and his wide eyes fixed on Vitali’s forearm-

He had a dark bruise on the side of his face. Vitali reached out a shaky hand and gently ran his fingers over it.

I’m sorry.

He could not speak, but the words sat comfortably on the tip of his tongue as any and every time before. And he knew that Vincent knew; his boyfriend could read it from his expression, perhaps, or see it in his eyes- but either way he simply shook his head and kissed Vitali’s fingertips, deep red blood staining his lips.

‘Come on,’ Vincent quietly said, averting his gaze- briefly glancing in Ravager’s direction, before lowering his eyes to the floor- and he carefully wrapped his arm around Vitali’s waist to support him as they walked.

‘Let’s get you out of here.’

‘The NCPD has released new details on the situation at the opening event of Arasaka’s latest facility and the announcement of their new APEX program. The body of ex-Maelstrom gang member Edward Keizer has been recovered from the premises, which has led MaxTac to believe he is responsible for the death of Grant Armitage according to MaxTac’s spokesman Officer Reid Bennett. Arasaka has yet to release a statement addressing the situation, but it is rumored they will delay the public release of their new technology to later this year.’

[nataliuh]

*deep guttural screaming*

[werecreature-addicted]

fic idea:

Arranged marriage with the alpha of a werewolf pack to broker peace and even though it's a shell marriage you are still expected to act like a happy loving couple every now and then. He's a nice enough Alpha. a good guy who respects you and your boundaries, he's busy though, it's rare you see him unless for scheduled events where you'll both be in attendance. You feel like you don't really know him, that there could be anything under that mask of polite care. He's more like a good coworker than your husband.

The pack Beta though? He's with you constantly, you know him inside and out, and he knows you just the same. He's maybe not as big as the alpha, but he is still a werewolf, still larger and with sharper teeth than any human you've ever seen. And he loves you, he calls you his mate behind closed doors. Kisses and pleasures you while your Alpha husband is away at work. It kills him that it's his alpha's mark on your neck, not his, he gets sick to his stomach if he thinks about it too much, but the way you scream for him when he fucks you, and the way he's always your first choice when you need something, that soothes the ache a little. He knows you aren't in love with your husband and never were, but if he has to watch you kiss his alpha one more time at a stupid party he's going to snap someone's neck.

[l-mialamia-l]

Most sports books are like “I need to win championships so I can prove myself!!!” and then there’s The Foxhole Court where the main character is like “yeah so if I don’t win championships I will literally be executed because when I was 10 my serial killer father tried to sell me to a cult so my assassin mother stole $5 million from the yakuza and ran away with me, but it turned out that my dad was friends with the leader of the mafia, so now we also had a bunch of hit men after us, and almost a decade later my dad caught up with us and killed my mom and I faked my death, so I decided to join a college sports team to start my new life, but then I found out one of my teammates is a runaway from the cult my dad tried to sell me to, and not only that but the cult’s leader is the brother of the head of the Japanese mafia, so now both of them are after me too, and also the FBI keeps trying to convince me to testify against my father, but if I do I’ll have to go into witness protection because my dad’s friends will try to kill me and I can’t be a professional athlete while under witness protection, but luckily my uncle (who is the leader of the British mob) brokered a deal that will assure my safety if I win championships as long as I hand over 80% of my salary to the mafia for the rest of my life.” And that’s only the main character, I haven’t even mentioned how insane some of the side characters’ backstories are!

Basically this is the most unhinged book I have ever read and I love it so much

[ladybyakuya]

| ALL I WANTED + GOJO SATORU .

+cw. — female!wife!reader x clan-head!husband!(sub)!gojo satoru, arrange marriage, hurt, angst, canon typical elements, smut, f!masturbation + m!masturbation & orgasm interruption.

+wc. — 2.3k

+syn.— satoru comes home from a bunch of missions only to find his wife in their shared bedroom not wanting him, or waiting for him but busy seeking pleasure that was his share to pour into you.

+notes. — special thanks to @gojoest for hyping me up with this idea. & thanks to @sugurouge for beta reading otherwise this never get posted lol | redirect to blog navigation.

The current head of the clan you belong to, your father stands facing his back to you. He is now the housemaster, not your father. “You’re going to be married,” said he, as his palms remained tightly clasped at his back while he looked out through the window. What you once called home became a distant memory in an instant. “You’re going to be married—” as his face turned towards you, “to Gojo Satoru.” you could figure out why he was looking away. “That monster!” he screams tears streaming down his face as his lips tremble in rage and disbelief; how of all people did the marriage broker who has been his friend for a long time have even agreed with such a decision? The thought of him suggesting the idea to the council does not even cross your father’s mind. How utterly naive! a low grunt followed as your father swatted away his chair knocking it down to the ground before killing every bit of hope you had despite the rumors. “This marriage. . . it is nothing but a hopeless dream. ”

Yes! You knew that already. The housemaids and staff just love to gossip about the doom of their sole source of bread and butter. The moment your father summoned you into his study room and told you the news while staring at the greenery of the garden of this mansion you knew your life was going to turn upside down and it did, just like you expected yet you were still disappointed, frustrated even when you came back to your room. 

Satoru Gojo is the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in history ever known since Sukuna Ryomen was sealed. No other name has ever made it to the pages of jujutsu history. He is at the top of the jujutsu society regarding status, power, fame, and money. So, what do you do with the strongest of all? worship them out of devotion? subdue them with offerings lest it might lash out? swearing loyalty out of fear? Those were the thoughts that stemmed at the back of your mind when you first came to know about the fact that you were going to be the wife of the Gojo Satoru from a maid whose life never even crossed the threshold of your home. Her world was limited to the mossy parts of the mansion you resided in. Still, she could tell what kind of marriage you would be walking into.

Nothing shocking happened even on the night of your wedding. It was just as you anticipated. Two different futons were kept side by side. There was no sharing of words, glances, or kakebuton . Just both of your backs faced each other. At dawn, you woke up with your wedding kimono intact, a stainless white futon, and an empty room without Gojo. 

The maids here knew better than to talk about it, even behind your back. They were aware of the power and status you held and that made everything a lot worse than you expected it to be. You had access to a lot of things, the family history archives, the financial sources, his previous missions— everything tied to him. Your husband, Gojo Satoru, was the clan head as well as the master of this mansion so there were no elderly people pushing responsibilities onto your shoulders like back at home. There was a sense of serenity in the air but how could you breathe it in for the rest of your life? 

Satoru Gojo was the kind of man whom one could easily desire. Despite being his wife and the future mother of his children, trying to love him felt like a cyanide for you. You wanted your husband, not some Satoru Gojo oozing with knowledge and power. You wanted to look him in the eye, not just his back which you barely get a glimpse of at the crack of dawn as he occupies the sad side of the bed under a separate duvet. In earlier stages of this marriage, there was no curtain separating you and your husband’s side of the bed but after a month of utter silence and stealing glances, the first thing he installed was a curtain in the shared canopy bed. If he needed some privacy he could easily ask you to shift into another room but he bothered to talk one of those clan servants to install a fucking curtain as if the silence was not enough of a gulf in between you two. 

Sometimes you thought that he was cheating on you but you always pushed it under the rug telling yourself, “You’re the wife of Satoru Gojo. No one can take that from you unless you walk out of this marriage. Not your father. Not that marriage broker —”

— Not even Gojo Satoru himself because he only married you to silence those nosy elders of his clan who pretend to be oh-so-worried for him. You were not foreign to that concept, after all, you are wrapped in the same shroud for all your life.

“You’re the wife of Gojo Satoru . . .No one . . .” 

“You’re the wife of Gojo Satoru . . .” 

“You’re the wife . . .”

“You’re . . .”

But the thought of getting his dick sucked by some other woman or man, or him putting his dick into someone — it filled you with too much anger to sleep in bed that night. For the first time, you miss home because there you are free to go anywhere even at night. 

Satoru came home early that night, which was odd for his schedule, and was greeted with an empty bed after a long while. The sky is yet to be cracked open by sunlight. It is still too dark to be wandering around. Where could his wife have been gone to at this hour? He takes a spoonful of strawberry ice cream from the giant tub he held in his other hand before starting to look for you. But where should he look first? He does not know anything except the fact that he had put veils in different places of his house just to keep this house free of low-energy cursed spirits. Those veils sure did their job well but sometimes they would keep out non-sorcerers, people like you. His heart rejoices at the thought that he has to look for you in places only he is aware of, which means this is going to take a little less time, and he will find you much faster. Come to think of it, he has not been in the library section for a while but it is still as spotless as the first day he came here. Have you been visiting? Man! That sure worries him.

The pink layer of the tub has come down to half along with its skin being wet while the spoon is still experiencing the fierce appetite that Satoru had for anything sweet. He stands at the entrance of a long hallway before checking, thinking that this is the last place he has to look for but could it be possible that you were embarrassed enough to go back to your home?

Ahh…ahhh!

The spoon hits the wooden floor with a dull clatter as a wretched realization comes crashing down through his veins. Have you been cheating on him all this time? In his house? With some lowly servant ? Well, that sure makes it easier to end this sham of a marriage. He opens the door of a certain archive room as swiftly as possible trying to minimize the sound of his presence, making sure he does not shock you awake from your rendezvous. He is determined to catch you red-handed but when he opens the door he witnesses something that could have knocked the lights off his brain if he were not one of the greatest sorcerers of his time. The sight was not something of a fair appetite for ordinary people yet you sat by the marble slab of the giant window, with one of your arms nuked under your sapphire jinbei in between your legs as your skin glowed under that pale moonlight as if diamonds and pearls were embedded on your skin. 

You were sweating, arching your body, moaning and all your husband could do was watch in awe. Your free hand travels from the bottom of your cleavage and up to the apex of your nape as you turn your head opening your eyes for a brief moment. You see the world so blurred that it spikes your approaching high, but as you open your eyes for the second time your high is gone like it never existed. Your husband, Gojo Satoru stood before you like an ivory statue of certain abandoned ruined cathedrals. The dress covers most of your body so a wave of relief washes over him despite realizing how dangerous the spot you chose . . .to . . .umh. . . pleasure yourself . 

How long? How long was he watching you ? You shift your body to face him, and your hand slowly emerges from the warmth between your thighs. Satoru tries to ignore but traces of your arousal and his yearning are flourishing like fluorescence on your fingers as it rests on your thigh. You watch him gulp. Suddenly, Gojo Satoru is out of words. Teacher to his students of Jujutsu High, the strongest sorcerer, Nanami’s certified yapper is suddenly out of words. The slight slice of your boobs visible through your robe does not help either in the coherency of his thoughts. He had plans. He had plans to walk out of this marriage without being tainted as a “cheater” because the jujutsu society is so fucked up that they will not stop until they found this particular person that had made this marriage impossible to work on so that you, the wife, had to walk out it and dear God, they certainly are not fond of obstructions.

“What a nice place you chose to—” he finally looks away to keep the tub of semi-molten room-temperature strawberry ice cream on some bookshelf but before he could shift back his gaze on you again you were gone like a storm. The sound of your footsteps echoed in his ear till it stopped before he heard the click of a door. He does not understand if you are just too dumb or too brave to act the way you are acting right now. He follows you as a grunt of dismissal escapes from his chest. As he stands in front of the bathroom door he drowns yet again in utmost disbelief. He can still hear your shrill gasp of pleasure and he is not liking how his cock is responsive to it. At first, he hesitates to touch himself but the faint sound of your moans, the wet squelching sounds of your fingers moving in and out of your damp folds despite the door of the bathroom being locked buzzes in his ears like bees out in the hunt of honey. 

Satoru gave up . You hear a thud as you continue to finger yourself knowing full well that your husband must have followed you all the way here after witnessing you in such a state. Indeed, you could have been accused of cheating on him without him checking the door and it would have been much worse. He sits against the bathroom door unfurling the black ribbon with a swish to take his cock out of his baggy white pants. The tip is already leaking. His cock is throbbing in his palm as he encapsulates his fingers around it, moving his fingers up and down slowly. On the other side of the door, as you could finally feel the pinnacle of your high you heard a soft groan; a pain, that seemed familiar, was palpable underneath that shrill cry of pleasure. Still when your fingers touched the part inside you that almost felt like unknotting something from inside you, at the basal of your navel Satoru’s hand moved faster to chase the similar high that had started to bubble in his body under the influence of your ripples of pleasure. You heard your husband moan as tears rolled down your cheeks when you closed your eyes feeling the knot finally unwinding.

Perhaps, both of you came simultaneously. Perhaps not, because you immediately opened the door after you had calmed from your high, only to be greeted with Satoru sitting right at the opposite wall of the bathroom door, legs folded in L-manner so that he could keep his hand over his knee. His cock is still visible through his white pants and it is still so hard. One of your eyebrows raises in silent reply . Satoru notices that. He looks at you and then looks away. You extend your hand towards his face, gaining his stern azure pair of eyes shining against whatever dim light the crack of the bathroom door could allow. There was no sign of resistance in him so as your palm touched his cheeks, you waited and gave him time to protest. yet none ever followed,  instead, he surrendered to your touch, and your fingers curled under his chin as you ran your thumb over his lips. Satoru coiled against your touch imbibing as much as he could like a tide being high enough to touch the moon . . .a familiar voice shocked both of you awake.

“Lady Gojo. . .” 

[evillesbianvillain]

'“I didn’t want to be a cog in that machine any more. For some time now, I have been both disgusted and horrified by the way higher education has developed into a cash register – essentially a money-making, MBA, lawyer-run, hedge fund-cum-real estate operation, with a minor sideline in education, where money has determined everything, where respect for pedagogy is at a minimum,” Khalidi says. “Research that brings in money, they respect. But they don’t care about teaching, even though it is the students with their tuition who provide a huge proportion of private universities’ budgets.”

[...]

Khalidi resists questions that demand a crystal ball. He is a historian who prefers to focus on analyzing what past actions tell us. His next book will focus on Ireland, and how it was a laboratory for Palestine. It stems from a fellowship he had recently at Trinity College, Dublin. He says that to understand Palestine, you have to understand British colonialism more broadly. He is hoping to examine key figures in the British aristocracy whose Irish experience was central to everything they did afterwards – people such as Arthur James Balfour, Sir Charles Tegart and Gen Sir Frank Kitson. He is hoping to show how the Irish experience was exported to India, Egypt and Palestine, and then returned to Ireland again during the Troubles, having been magnified in the colonies. “It is astonishing how personnel and counter-insurgency techniques, like torture, assassination, find their roots with the British in Ireland,” Khalidi says.

His personal family history, his scholarship and the front row seat he had as part of the Palestinian advisory group during talks in Madrid in the early 1990s show him that until the US shifts its total, uncritical support for Israel, the Palestinians will not get anything close to sovereignty. “It’s never statehood, it’s never self-determination,” he says. “It is an extension into the future of the status quo with epaulets.”

When he looks back at the 1990s, he is reminded of what the Palestinians were up against, and why they didn’t stand a chance. And why the peace efforts of the time were destined for failure. Not only did Israel have its own lawyers, combing over every detail, it had the backing of the US too. Khalidi understands that it was a fundamental error on the part of Yasser Arafat and his team to think that the US could be an honest broker.

“That is what drives me: Israel cannot do any of this – killing this number of Palestinians [more than 40,000 at the time of writing] without the US and western European countries. The US gives Israel the green light. It is a party to the war on Palestine. That is what drives me as an American. I am not just at this because I am a Palestinian. It is because I am an American. Because we are responsible.”'

[leiandroid]

yakuza au

ok fam this au is now separated from my previous inohina yakuza/bratva au. had to fly the girls back to japan and they got a whole new backstory ! big wall of text incoming ↓↓↓

-- uchiha clan

a clan that was once powerful but was slowly eating itself from the inside. rife with internal conflict and distrust, key figures sought to strengthen the clan and each had an idea of how to bring about that change, though no two could come to an agreement on a single method. tensions amongst the ranks began to fracture the uchiha.

taking advantage of the power struggle, madara, with the hopes of seizing total control, ignites a spark that quickly turns into a bloodbath. many low level thugs employed by the uchiha flee the compound as each key figure and their loyal followers battle it out until so few are left standing it could barely be called a clan anymore.

the power vacuum left behind by the dissolution of the uchiha has created an extremely volatile environment in the crime world as different yakuza families seek to claim the uchiha’s previously held operations and territory.

-- hebi

sick of the endless politics and weakening bonds amongst the clan, sasuke left to forge his own path. as punishment for leaving the clan itachi takes his eye.

he had never expected that the power struggles within the uchiha would lead to a massacre. so when he heard about the bloodbath occurring inside the uchiha compound, he rushed home to save his parents from a grim fate. but was too late when he witnessed itachi kill them by his own blade.

sasuke quickly enacted revenge by killing itachi and when the dust settled and madara emerged as victor, sasuke turned his blade on him too and snuffed out the flame of the uchiha forever.

karin is an ex-cop that was the uchiha's informant within the police. she brokers deals and negotiations on behalf of sasuke. she is his mouthpiece, so to speak.

sasuke is also seeking two who were once allies/friends. suigetsu who had always dreamed to join the seven swordsmen's guild, and juugo a talented and brutal fighter who dominates the underground fighting scene.

together he hopes to form a small mercenary group for hire.

-- inoshikacho alliance / inoshikacho rengo

one of the first yakuza family alliances ever made going back generations. inoshin yamanaka, chosuke akimichi and shikanazai nara where the first of each clan to join the families into an alliance that has since become one of the strongest and long-lasting alliances in yakuza history.

at the age of 25 each member of the alliance is to have at least two children to ensure the next generation of the inoshikacho alliance grow up together and are trained to take on the mantle for the sake of the alliance's future. this also ensures that at least 3 generations are alive at any one time (if they don't meet an early grave that is).

the yamanaka run brothels, which act as a communication and information network. every girl is hand picked by ino or by trusted subordinates and trained in the art of seduction and information gathering. the yamanaka have large underground garden operations that cultivate plants for poisons with all kinds of effects and traceability, from the quick and painless to the slow and destructive.

akimichi control entertainment districts, money laundering operations and run the largest underground fighting scene. money flowing in and out of casinos and other avenues are fully controlled by the akimichi.

the nara are drug traffickers that control market price and distribution.

-- hyuuga clan / hyuuga kai

the strongest and most notorious yakuza in all of japan. their efficiency in all that they do make them a fierce clan. when the clanhead was found dead, many other groups thought this was finally the crack in the hyuuga shield and made moves to try and see if they could challenge their authority. but the second daughter stepped into place and ordered everyone in within a certain radius of the hyuuga estate dead.

if they thought hyuuga hiashi was a ruthless leader, hanabi, in one day alone, managed to put herself up as one of the deadliest and horrifying yakuza leaders in recent history.

their efficiency in the business and economics sector, as well as having ties within governmental and political bodies, makes them a very powerful clan with many branching factions reaching far and wide across the country.

someone, somewhere, always answers to a hyuuga.

-- neji hyuuga (tian)

after hizashi failed to protect the hyuuga leader's eldest daughter, he had to pay with his life in front of his only son.

watching his father commit seppuku and then swiftly beheaded by hiashi in front of the elders and close family, stuck with neji his whole life. he made a silent vow to exact revenge on hiashi. the bitterness in his heart made living amongst the hyuuga a slow acting poison. his hate for hiashi became stronger than his love for his father and he could never look upon a picture of hizashi anymore because his face was the face of his enemy.

neji bided his time for years and years until one fateful night he murdered hiashi in cold blood and fled the hyuuga estate. he made his way towards mainland china with some aid from a contact in the chinese triads. he disappeared for many years living amongst a guild of killers and started going by the name tian.

his next order of business was to find the abducted daughter that caused the death of his father and kill her himself.

-- hinata hyuuga (makoto)

the abducted hyuuga heir, taken from the hyuuga clan at a very young age. makoto lives her life as a simple woman, adopted by an elderly couple in the countryside, unaware of who she is or where she comes from.

when a 'chinese' man that bears an uncanny resemblance to her shows up at her cottage one day, calling her a name that does not belong to her, her life is flipped on its head and she finds herself plunged into the underbelly of society.

-- chinese triads / pirates

tenten is a weapons smuggler. though she is affiliated with the chinese triads, she smuggles and trades weapons for anyone that buys them, as her true loyalty is to money.

tenten's operations are done by sea and she has control over a small fleet of boats that answer to her. other than a port owned by the triads, she has claimed a small remote island as her home and base of operations.

she was also neji's contact that helped him sail the seas to mainland china after he murdered hiashi.

-- korean mafia

kiba is an animal trafficker. he acquires exotic animals for their ivory/fur/leather as well as selling them alive to the wealthy for their collections and keeps.

he has sold exotic birds to the yamanaka for their gardens. gathered all manner of cervidae antlers from around the world for the nara's collection. has captured the most venomous snakes known to mankind for several organisations, including certain individuals of the uchiha family. has also sold a number of species of animals for tenten for her island.

he is generally in good graces with all kinds of people/groups due to his connections and ability to acquire the even the most endangered and rare species in the world.

-- suna siblings

kankuro and temari own a small medical clinic. kankuro is a general family doctor. people come to him for check-ups and simple treatments and minor operations. temari handles all the logistics, and appears as the clinic's secretary. they have 3 nurses: matsuri, yukata, mikoshi.

kankuro is also a certified surgeon and operates on all sorts of gang members in the hidden basement operation room. matsuri has been trusted to help kankuro with these operations when needed. their practice offers complete discretion and the clinic has become off-bounds for any gang violence, even if rivalling groups happen to meet each other on the premises. they enter a truce for as long as they are within a certain radius of the clinic.

the brother and sister duo are a respected, unaffiliated group, and they also use their operations to get clues on their brother's whereabouts.

gaara was kidnapped at a young age and was tortured to the point that psychosis was induced. he is held in the same place as juugo and both are used in fights that many come to pay dearly to watch and bet on.

-- police

with his parents killed and taken from his home, naruto was raised by a gang who kidnaps boys to beat and torture, and train them into savage fighters. he dreamed for a life where he could see the sun and the sea, to eat a hot bowl of ramen once again.

when a police investigation finally bore fruit, naruto was rescued from the place. he was taken in by iruka, one of the cops, and eventually followed in his footsteps. he made a promise that he would find and save the redhead that had once clung to him down in those dark cells.

tsunade is chief of police. sai is a detective. lee is a chinese detective commissioned by the chinese police to go to japan to work alongside the tokyo metropolitan police dept to follow the chinese triads operations in japan. (or is it the hosting country that commissions?? anyway) a number of jonin from naruto are also police including: kakashi, yamato, genma, anko, etc etc.

-- sakura

sakura is the head of a large hospital that was once tied up with the uchiha who used her as an in for smuggling medical supplies. she was called upon as their emergency doctor to treat key figures when needed.

upon hearing about their massacre she felt total relief that the family threatening her life were finally gone. she thought she was free from them when a certain uchiha and 2 others showed up at her door demanding treatment.

she can't say she was happy to be back in such a predicament but it seemed that this uchiha didn't have a penchant for threatening her life as his family did. and for selfish reasons, she was okay with this arrangement.

-- the aburame

a family of assassins. their efficiency and untraceable methods make them a highly coveted group of hitmen whose services are sold to the highest bidder. the aburame have close ties with the yamanaka of the inashikacho alliance as they outsource some of their poisons from the yamanaka gardens.

even though the yamanaka, akimichi, and nara families formed an alliance generations ago, this agreement between the yamanaka and aburame remains a secret from the rest of the alliance.

the aburame are a completely neutral party and the yamanaka understands this. to pay for their secrecy and treachery towards their sworn brothers, the yamanaka accept that if a hit were ordered against their own, it wouldn't affect their business with the aburame.

if u read all this many hugs and kisses mwah

[thehauntedetheral]

Can I request Yandere doctor x patient???

Yandere Doctor

Requests are open!

• The world should just end. It was the only thing you were manifesting right now as you were walking down the street.

• Why? Because well when you were mourning at home on your parents death anniversary your boyfriend of years was cheating on you with some random girl. And also your landlord has given you the notice to leave the house in 2 weeks all of a sudden. The only thing you have now is your job.

• You were going to meet a broker to find a new house when your stomach ache started again. You have been feeling this way for quite some days but you ignored it as you haven't got much time between finding a new house and your love life's drama. And on top of that this stomach ache. Just great. Please god just kill me you thought when out of nowhere you felt fainting. No. No god I just thought that figuratively not literary Please don't kill me you thought before black took you over.

• You woke up and found your self on an hospital bed. An IV attached to your hand.

• An handsome doctor came in giving you a polite smile. "Glad you woke up. You fainted on street a kind stranger got you here. You fainted due to appendicitis. It was infected so we took out via surgery. The staff called your emergency contact which is your friend I guess. she signed all the surgery and consent paper while you were unconscious. We have to keep you here for two days under observation just in case nothing serious." The handsome doctor said. Well that explains everything how I ended here you thought.

• After the doctor went your friend came in. Fussing all over you.

• Your friend stayed with you most of the time during the 2 days. You both thought that the doctor was so polite, good looking and handsome. Especially more handsome in his scrubs

• During the two days you were in the hospital. Yan Doctor would stop at your room a lot unnecessarily.

• He would check up on you a lot saying "doctor duties" when it was not at all necessary but who is gonna tell you anyways.

• Would try to chit chat with you and your friends during his break.

• Switched his shift with his colleague just to be around you went it was his day off.

• When he heard you were looking for a house. He told you a house beside his is empty and affordable so if you want you can move there.

• After getting discharged you went to get a look at the house. It was so spacious and beautiful yet it's price was too low according to its infrastructure you thought when it should cost a lot. Nevermind the owners loss you thought and moved into that house.

• You and yan doctor were neighbours now.

• He would often invite you for meals at his house. Under the facade of "I again made too much".

• Helps you in shifting and settling down. Saying "I am just being a good Neighbour".

• Well in reality the owner of that house is none other than yan doctor. He knew that this house's rent value is a lot but he told you less because he wanted you closer to him. In fact he wanted to give you this house to live at free but that would cause a lot of suspicion so he told you a very low price.

• Has been obsessed with you since he saw you unconscious on the stretcher brought into hospital looking beautiful as angel. He thought you looked beautiful while unconscious. But when he talked to you saw you smile, heard your voice he thought you were out worldly. Just Divine.

• This man is madly in love with you.

• Kills your ex with a overdose of drug making it look like an accident just because he was jealous and mad that he hurt you emotionally. How could someone cheat on such a perfect human? He thought.

• Tries his best to become close to you and become your friend and more.

• Gives you health advice all of the time.

• You fell sick? This man becomes your personal doctor, nurse everything.

• Has so much money that always showers you with your favourite coffees, meals and tickets to movies or concert. His reason? "Well I was just passing by and saw this I know you like it so I bought it for you". When in reality this man specifically goes to that place just for getting it for you.

• He sees your one smile and feel like he won in life. This man is whipped for you.

• If you ask this man for his heart he would literally tear his chest and pull his heart out for you. Nothing matters to him except you. You are his everything.

• When you get an invite to a wedding. You thought who should I take with me as a date?

• Yan Doctor keeps throwing hints at you all week indicating that he wants to be your wedding date. This man is so desperate for you.

• When you finally ask him to be your wedding date. This man is the most happiest person in world. You might think you just asked him to marry you by looking at his happy expressions.

• Well don't worry darling because he is damn sure you are gonna marry him one day.

• With you being conscious or high with drug. Choice is yours darling. After all he is a good doctor and knows how to use them well.

Requests are open!

For more yandere reading:

[joonsytip]

Side by Side || Hoshi

Pairings: Hoshi x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut, mafia boss! Hoshi, cold husband! Hoshi, doctor! Reader, arranged marriage au.

Synopsis: Your marriage to Soonyoung is just a form of convenience to all and you're fed up trying to make things work. So what happens when you start being bratty and it brings out an animalistic side to your cold mafia boss husband?

Warnings: hoshi being the typical cold & rude mafia boss, mafia clan jargon intended, betrayal, reader becomes bratty, couple fights, marriage of convenience, hate sex, angry sex, creampie, choking, biting, marking.

Word Count: 5.5k

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 🔞

In the frosty heart of the city, there's a large edifice owned by Soonyoung, a mafia boss, who goes by the alias Hoshi. He is a man of few words and even fewer smiles, a dangerously cold man who rules his criminal empire with an iron fist.

However, even the coldest hearts can take a hit under the circumstances. One day, Soonyoung's advisors come to him with a proposition: an arranged marriage to you, brilliant young physician and the daughter of a powerful ally now, but previously your clan had been prime rival of his clan, things still on the brink of simmering sometimes.

The advisors believe that this union would strengthen Soonyoung's hold on his territory, as your father controlled a large part of the city's medical services and underground capo. Always a man of strategy, Soonyoung agrees to the arrangement, despite his initial lack of interest in matrimony.

The reason, more of the truth is, Soonyoung's empire is under threat from a rival gang and your family has the resources and influence to help turn the tide in his favor. By marrying you, he would secure an alliance that could tip the balance of power in his favor.

Soonyoung has always been a complex man, a man who has built his empire on fear and ruthlessness. But beneath that icy exterior, there is a hint of loneliness and sadness. He has always been a solitary figure, never allowing himself to get close to anyone.

Being an orphan, he was basically raised on the streets of the city. He had learned early on that the world was a cold and unforgiving place. He had made his way up in the criminal underworld, using his cunning tactics and ruthlessness to secure his position as a boss.

To begin with, he had fallen in with a small gang of street thugs and by providing himself as a quick learner, he soon became their leader. It was during this time that he met a seasoned mobster, who recognized his potential and took him under his wing.

Soonyoung's rivals are the Kims, a powerful and ruthless mafia clan who controls a significant part of the city's criminal underworld. They had been feuding with his gang for years over territory, resources, and power.

You, on the contradictory note, are a fiery, independent spirit. You had grown up as the heir of another wealthy and influential mafia clan. Despite your privileged upbringing, you had never allowed yourself to be intimidated by the criminal world that surrounded you.

You had always been a bright and curious child, with a love for learning, excelling in studies, particularly in the field of medicines. Despite your family's objections, you had pursued the medical degree from a prestigious university.

You have seen deaths growing up, so the main reason for becoming a doctor was a way of protesting, while your family killed, you wanted to save lives.

You are shocked on receiving the marriage proposal from Soonyoung's advisors. It's not that you had never expected to be married into another mafia clan but you had never imagined it would be Soonyoung's. You have seen your brothers held at the gunpoint by the said man, in exchange for royalty. Things might look good on the surface but you know better.

So after much discussion and negotiation, you agreed to the marriage. Your family saw it as an opportunity to broker a more prominent peace treaty with Soonyoung's gang.

Though you have agreed to the marriage, your impression of Soonyoung was simple, the leader of the Kwon mafia clan who's ruthless and walks on the blood of people.

You saw this marriage as an opportunity to gain more independence and autonomy within your own family, a chance to make a difference in the criminal underworld by promoting peace and cooperation.

The first time you two meet is at a formal dinner arranged by your family. Though you both are seated next to each other and pleasantries are exchanged, Soonyoung doesn't pay much mind to you.

He is distracted during the dinner, paying more attention to the men of the gang and their discussions, than to you. However as the meal went on, he couldn't help but be drawn to your strength and poise.

Later that evening, when the dinner ends and the guests are leaving, Soonyoung finds himself lingering near you. After much consideration, he asks you to go for a walk in the gardens outside the estate.

As you both walk together in the moonlit gardens, you try to make small talks with him only to meet with dry replies. You can sense the coldness and aloofness in his aura.

His eyes narrow as he asks you bluntly, "So, tell me. Why did you agree to this marriage?

You weren't expecting a blunt question this quick but who are you kidding, it's Soonyoung afterall. Feeling a pang of disappointment, you reply tersely, "My reasons for agreeing to this union are none of your concern. Enough about that, let's return inside."

He seems to ignore your words and continues to press on you, his voice low and rough as he asks, "Do you really think you can handle life with me, as my wife? As the leader's wife?

Soonyoung's sharp tone causes a chill to run down your spine, but you refuse to back down. Meeting his frightening gaze boldly, you reply, "I can handle whatever comes my way, Soonyoung. I am not some delicate flower that will wilt at the first sign of trouble."

His lips quirked into a small smirk at your bold response, his demeanor softening just a little. He couldn't help but admire you for your bravery and strength, and he suddenly feels a desire to know more about you. "Well then..."

He begins to lead you to a secluded part of the garden, away from prying eyes. The moonlight illuminates your path as you both walk together in silence. "I suppose we will have plenty of time to get to know each other once we are married," he says at last with a hint of sarcasm.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, he abruptly stops walking and turns to face you. His expression is unreadable as he says, "Y/N, I want to make one thing perfectly clear. Just because we are getting married, it doesn't mean that I will be easy on you."

He continues, "You will be my wife in name only. I expect you to follow my orders, no matter what they are. My position as the leader of our people is everything to me, and nothing, not even you, will ever come before it."

You look at Soonyoung, eyes narrowing as you listen to his harsh words. Despite his warning, you could see the uncertainty in his gaze, and it gives you a hope. "I understand." you say quietly.

Over the next few weeks, you are forced to throw yourself into the preparations for your wedding. The entire city is bustling with activity, but one person seemed to be conspicuously absent - Soonyoung. He sends his men and servants to assist with the preparations but he has not been seen in days.

Despite your frustration, you try not to let it show. You don't want to give your would-be husband the satisfaction of knowing that he is getting under your skin. But as the days turns into weeks, you couldn't help but wonder if he is even going to show up for the wedding.

You try to reach out to Soonyoung numerous times, but never receive a response. You have even sent messengers to his estate, but they all returned with the same message - he is unavailable. You even attempted to visit him herself, but were turned away at the gate.

As the days went on, you couldn't help but rethink your decision to marry Soonyoung. You shouldn't have given the nod, shouldn't have agreed under the pressure of your family because Soonyoung is distant and completely unwilling to let you in. You are compelled, you divert yourself back into your regular routine, living in the hospital dorms just to keep yourself busy and your mind away from all sorts of unpleasant thoughts.

With each passing day, you grow more and more convinced that you have made a mistake. You couldn't shake the feeling that Soonyoung would never truly care for you and that your marriage would be nothing more than a political arrangement.

The day of the wedding arrives. You stand wearing the white gown, looking out at the assembled guests. Your heart feels heavy with doubt and you couldn't help but wonder what your life would have been like if you had followed your heart.

The crowd grows restless as the ceremony draws near and there is still no sign of the groom. You try to push down your growing anxiety but you can't shake the feeling that something is terribly wrong. And then finally, as the sun begins to set, Soonyoung appears.

He looks unapologetic and nonchalant as he strolls towards you with small smile on his lips, seeming completely unfazed by the fact that he has kept his bride waiting and takes your hand without a second thought.

As the vows are exchanged, you feel your doubts grow even stronger. You wonder if you would ever be able to truly accept a man who has so carelessly disrespected you. But for now, you bury those feelings and force yourself to smile, knowing that it was too late to turn back now.

The rest of the wedding day passes in a blur. You go through the motions, dancing and laughing with your guests, all the while feeling a growing sense of emptiness inside. And as the night wears on, you are convinced that you have made a grave mistake.

From the start, Soonyoung's cold demeanor and possessive attitude caused friction between you two. He expects you to cater to his every whim, but you have promised yourself to never be intimidated by his threats and his icy stare.

As newlyweds, you both settle into the honeymoon suite. You feel your heart sink once again because you had hoped that the spark would be reignited once you both were alone, but Soonyoung seems more interested in the bottle than in you.

You sit on the edge of the bed, your eyes fixed on your hands. Your husband stands by the window, nursing a glass of whiskey. The silence is palpable.

"Soonyoung," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, "Why did you leave me alone at the altar today?"

Soonyoung turns to face you, his expression unreadable. He takes a long pull from his glass before answering, "I didn't leave you at the altar, if I did then we wouldn't have been married and you wouldn't have been here."

His face hardens as he steps closer to you, "I don't have time for your tears or your theatrics," he snaps, "You knew that this isn't going to be a normal marriage with rainbows and sunshine so stop whining and play your part."

Your eyes are narrow as you stand up to face him, "I may have agreed to this marriage, but I will not be treated like a doormat," you say, your voice is steady and strong, "I am more than just a trophy wife."

Soonyoung sneers at you, his annoyance growing. "Then what are you, Y/N? You're nothing but a foolish woman because you agreed to this marriage knowing there would be no love, no obligations."

Your eyes flash with anger as you bite back with a retort, "Fine. If you want to play the game of cold indifference, then let's see who breaks first."

You take a step closer to him, your voice low and dangerous, "Don't test me, Soonyoung", you warn, "I may not be a man, but I am not as weak as you seem to think. I can give as good as I get.", you reach up and grab a handful of his shirt, your fingers digging into the fabric.

Soonyoung's eyes widen in surprise at your sudden burst of anger. He opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off with a sharp look, "I am done being your doormat", you say, your voice full of fire and determination.

After that night, you both settle into a cold and distant marriage. You live in a lavish mansion but the tension between you both is palpable. But even after the heated word exchange, you tried your best to make the marriage work, but Soonyoung's cold and rude demeanor made it impossible.

You made constant efforts to engage with him. You organized dinners and gatherings, hoping that you'd connect over shared interests. You tried to talk to him about the relationship, expressing your desires for a more loving and supportive partnership.

You also made an effort to spend quality time with Soonyoung. You would plan trips and outings, clearing your schedules, hoping that the time alone would help you both grow closer. You would often try to initiate deep conversations in the hopes that it would melt his cold exterior.

Despite your best efforts, your husband remains the same. He shows no signs of caring for you or reciprocating your affections. The lack of feelings weighed heavily on you.

You try to warn Soonyoung when you discover that he has been secretly meeting with a member of the rival mafia clan. As a doctor, you feel strongly about upholding the law but as his wife, you couldn't help but worry about his safe being.

Soonyoung isn't a fool. He knows what he is doing. He has his own reasons for secretly meeting, whoever he is meeting. He believes that forming an alliance with them would bring more power and wealth to his own clan, securing their position as a dominant force in the criminal underworld but if he fails to coax them to form an ally then he'd finish the whole clan.

"You don't understand the ways of the mafia, my dear wife. I do what needs to be done, whether you approve or not.", he answers you.

"And you don't know what you're getting yourself into," you plead, your hands gripping his arms in desperation. "The rival clan is ruthless and they will stop at nothing to take us down."

Soonyoung's expression hardens as he pulls his arms out of your grip. "You don't trust me to handle this, do you?" he accuses, his voice full of rage, "I am the leader of this clan, and I know what I'm doing."

Suddenly, Soonyoung's expression darkens as he looks at you, "You have a secret it seems," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "Is there something you're hiding from me because how the hell did you know that I'm meeting the people of rival clan?"

Your eyes flash with defiance as you walk out of the room, leaving Soonyoung standing there. You couldn't believe he would accuse you of hiding something from him even after she have just warned him about the danger. He seems to have forgotten that you too belong to a powerful mafia clan.

Since that day, your relationship becomes more strained as you both stopped speaking to each other. Soonyoung is always staking out doing something you don't care about anymore and you sort to spending more time at hospital.

Your heart stops, one night, as you see Soonyoung walk into the home, his clothes soaked in blood. You run to him, your hands reaching out to touch him, to make sure he is okay.

"What happened?", you ask, eyes scanning his body.

Soonyoung's voice is distant as he speaks, "It's not my blood." he says, pushing your hands away. "I killed someone before he could kill me."

Your eyes wander before you look at him. Something about his story doesn't add up. You step closer, studying his face and see the faint traces of tears in his eyes, "Soonyoung," you say softly, reaching out to touch his cheek. "What really happened?"

Soonyoung's reaction takes you by surprise but you don't let it deter you. You follow him quietly to your shared bedroom, watching as he collapses on the bed. "Soonyoung," you repeat, your voice softer now, "Tell me the truth."

Soonyoung lets out a sigh as he turns to face you. He looks into your eyes, knowing he couldn't hide the truth from you any longer, "I had planted a mole, one of my trusted men in their gang.", he admits, his voice barely above a whisper, "He got caught by them and was already dead when I found him."

Soonyoung hesitates, taking a deep breath before continuing, "If I had arrived a bit earlier, I could have saved him. But I got a hold of some of them and killed them all.", he turns away, his voice filled with regret.

Your concern for your husband overpowers any disappointment you have in him. You move closer to him, your hands gently examining his body for any injuries. "Are you hurt? Is that your blood?"

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with pain, "Yes," he whispers, "I was stabbed."

He lifts his shirt, revealing a long wound on his side. You gasp, your hands immediately going to the wound as you inspect it.

You quickly grab some bandages and disinfectant from the first aid kit and carefully clean the wound before wrapping it up, making sure it is clean and protected. "We need to get you to a hospital," you say firmly, "This needs stitches."

He grabs your hand and tells you that he can't.

You frown at his response, but you don't let it deter you, "Soonyoung, this is serious," you say, trying to keep the worry out of your voice, "You need medical attention."

Soonyoung shakes his head, his grip on your hand tightening.

His actions cut through you like a knife, "I don't need your help", he spats out, his voice filled with anger and frustration, "Just leave me alone." He pulls his hand away from yours, turning his back on you as he tries to hide the pain in his eyes.

You know that he needs medical attention and you are not going to let him suffer any longer. Gathering up your sewing kit and some painkillers, you approach him again.

You sit down next to him, carefully cleaning and numbing the wound before starting to stitch it up. The entire process is painful and tense, with Soonyoung gritting his teeth and occasionally flinching as the needle goes in.

You don't receive a thanks, rather you receive an ultimatum to never interfere in his matters again.

As the weeks went by, you both grew more distant. You'd only see each other in the bedroom that too occasionally and your conversations are always short and perfunctory. As demanded by your husband, you have finally stopped caring about his matters.

Soonyoung bursts into the mansion one evening, his face red with anger. He has heard something he couldn't believe. He shouts out your name, closing in on you as you sat on the couch.

Your confusion turns into fear as you see the anger in his eyes.

"You dated Minho.", he declares, gritting his teeth, "The son of Kim's, the next boss of their clan."

You hadn't expected him to find out about your brief relationship with the rival gang member. Your voice is stern when you say, "I did date him, but it was years ago when we were both in college. But I broke up with him as soon as I found out who his family was. I never would do anything hurtful for my family or the people I care for."

Soonyoung has been boiling the entire time, he is frustrated, he is mad. So he hurls some insults at you and you do too. The fight has turned into something else entirely. You both are overwhelmed with emotion.

"What kind of man doesn't want his wife?", you yell at him, "Maybe I should go back to Minho, at least he would treat me better."

At this point you're saying anything and everything to bottle out your frustration.

"So you want me to treat you as my wife?", Soonyoung turns calm suddenly, his tone low, "You want me to want you?"

And before you both know it, the anger has turned into something darker and more primal.

Soonyoung reaches you in long strides and kisses you by grabbing your head.

He backs you to the bedroom, lips still connected. One gaze after he pulls away and the tension snaps. You both rip each other's clothes off, your bodies colliding in a rough wave.

You bodies now move in a desperate rhythm, each thrust and grind a testament to the months of frustration and pent-up desire that had been building between the you of you. Soonyoung's hands roamed all over your body, gripping your hips, pulling your hair and squeezing your breasts roughly.

His voice is low and rough as he speaks into your mouth, "You're mine, Y/N.", he says, his hips pistoning into yours, "I can't get enough of you, even when I hate you for speaking of some other man when I was infront of you just because you were feigning for some touch. I'll show that I could all and above."

You meet his intensity with your own. You claw at his back, leaving red marks on his skin as you scream out your own frustration, "I'm not yours, Soonyoung," you spat, "I never was."

You buck your hips, meeting his thrusts with equal ferocity, gripping the sheets tightly. Your body is aching with pleasure and pain because of the roughness.

"You're just a means to an end," you say with a feral glint in your eyes. "You always were."

Soonyoung's lips curl in a savage smile as he hears your words. He grips your hips tighter and slams into you harder, the headboard banging against the wall with each thrust, "I'll make sure you never forget me then."

His hand wraps around your throat, not enough to choke you but enough to assert dominate. He leans down, his breath hot against your skin as he sucks and bites at your neck, marking you as his, "Happy to finally get what you wanted?"

Your breath hitches as his hand tightens around you throat but you don't back down. You meet his gaze with a fierce glare, your fingers digging into his back deeper as you hold on, "I'll always be a thorn in your side."

Soonyoung chuckles darkly, his hand finally releasing your throat, now placing it on your hips again, pulling you closer to him as he thrusts deeper, "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

In response, you wrap your legs around him and meet each of his thrusts with one of your own, your bodies slapping together in a heated dance.

His eyes darken with desire as he continues to thrust, the two of you getting lost in a wild and animalistic rhythm. He reaches down rubbing your clit, causing you to moan loudly as you come undone beneath him.

Feeling you clenching around him as you came, Soonyoung couldn't hold back any longer. He thrusts into you a few more times before spilling himself inside of you, his fingers gripping your hips tightly as he releases everything he had.

But even as he holds you close to him, he knows that your relationship would never be simple. You are fiery and independent, a woman who would always challenge him and keep him on his toes. But he wouldn't have it any other way.

You lay in Soonyoung's arms, your body still trembling and humming with pleasure. You have never felt so alive, so free. You have always been a thorn in his side, always pushing back against him, never making it easy for him.

But in this moment, as you lay together, bodies still entwined, you couldn't help but feel something more for your husband. You aren't sure if it is love, or just a deep and primal attraction, but you know that you have found something special in him.

And so, as the night wore on, you and Soonyoung lay there, holding each other tightly.

But eventually, the night had to end. The first light of dawn begins to break over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the room as you wake up to an empty bed.

And as the sun continues to rise, you both go back to your usual ways, each pretending to be indifferent to the other. But deep down, you both know that something has changed between you both, that you are no longer just enemies, but something more complicated and unpredictable.

And so, as the days passed and the war raged on, you both find yourselves drawn to each other again and again, your fiery chemistry impossible to resist. You fought and fucked, through it all, never not craving each other's touch.

Another such episode comes when you storm into Soonyoung's office, your eyes blazing with anger. You had a long, shitty day at the hospital so you are here, into the vicinity of your husband, ready to give him a piece of your mind.

As soon as you see him, sitting there behind his desk, claded in a fitting suit, all your other thoughts go into the gutter. You couldn't help but feel a deep, primal desire for him. And from the look in his eyes, you could tell that he felt the same way.

Soonyoung's jaw clenches on seeing you and he couldn't help but let his anger show, "What the hell do you want?", he snarls, standing up and slamming his fists on the desk, "How dare you barge into my office?Can't you see I'm busy?"

Your eyes narrow and you let out a low, dangerous laugh, "Oh, I see", you say, sauntering towards him with a seductive sway in your hips, "I thought you'd be busy jerking yourself off to the thought of me."

Soonyoung lets out a laugh as his control snaps. He reaches out and grabs you, pulling you towards him before turning you over and bending over the desk, his hands roughly gripping your hips as he grinds himself against you.

You gasp as his hands roam over your clothed body, igniting a fire within you that you couldn't resist. You moan as he presses himself against you, your body craving his touch despite everything, "Fuck me, Soonyoung."

His voice is low and rough as he leans in close to your ear, "You want me to fuck you, my wife?" he growls, his hot breath sending chills down your spine, "You've been begging for it since the moment you walked in here."

Your smirk turns into a gasp as he turns you around again, hands ripping your clothes. His gaze marvels at you in nothing your lingerie before tearing them as well, revealing your naked body to him. You swear under your breath as the cool air hits your skin, but it's quickly replaced with the heat of Soonyoung's touch.

"You're a fucking animal."

Soonyoung's only response is a guttural growl as he lifts you onto the desk, spreading you legs and entering harshly into you without hesitation. Your hands work on undressing him as he thrusts in. The sound of the bodies slapping against each other fills the room, along with your moans and his grunts of pleasure.

The heat of your bodies is overwhelming and your head falls back as you surrender to the pleasure that your husband is giving you. The pain of his rough treatment mixed with pleasure and you find yourself moaning loudly, scratching at his back as he continues to rearrange your insides.

His thrusting never slows as he looks down at you, his eyes dark with desire. He smirks, leaning down to whisper in your ear, "You like that, don't you? Being treated like the filthy slut you are."

Your glare turns into a snarl as you grab Soonyoung's throat, your fingers digging into his skin. "Shut up and fuck me harder.", you growl through gritted teeth. Your grip tightens around his neck as you pull him closer, your faces inches apart.

Soonyoung snickers at your response, the smirk never wavering, "With pleasure, my dirty little whore," he responds with a chuckle before kissing you passionately.

"You're damn right, I am." you say pulling away, your grip tightening even more, "Now fuck me like the animal you are."

You pull him down for another rough and bruising kiss, refusing to let go as your bodies collide in a mess of sweat and heat.

He breaks the kiss, a triumphant smirk on his face as his thrust takes animalistic speed.

Your moans and his grunts of pleasure, floods the rooms. You bite on his shoulder blade, leaving an angry red mark as you hold on and let him ravage her body.

Soonyoung's thrusts became more erratic as he feels his orgasm building up within him, ready to spill. Your body shakes with pleasure, the two of you reaching the climax together.

He pulls out of you and collapses onto you, panting and covered in sweat, "Fuck," he says with a grin.

"You're wild.", you glare at him, but a smirk of your own forms as you try to push him off you.

Soonyoung slides off and stretches, his muscles aching from the exertion of your passionate encounter.

"You think that was good just because you could keep up with me?", you laugh with a seductive smirk on your lips, "I've fucked better and rougher."

Soonyoung flexes his muscles, a smug grin on his face, "Well, I guess it was a good thing for you then, wasn't it?" he shot back, pushing your buttons with ease.

You roll your eyes but couldn't keep the smile off your face.

"You know what?", you say as you hop off the table, "Keep telling yourself that.", you start walking towards the bathroom, "I'll take a shower first, wanna join?"

You look down at your torn clothes and laugh with a playful glint in her eye, "Well, looks like I'll be walking out of here naked", and look over at your husband with a smirk, "I guess you want all your men to see me like this."

Soonyoung's temper flares at the thought of all the men in the office seeing his wife naked. He quickly follows you into the bathroom with a fierce determination on his face.

"Fuck no." he mutters to himself and turns you around to face him.

He cups your face and looks deeply into your eyes, "You're mine and I won't share you with anyone.", he says possessively, a fierce protectiveness in his gaze, "So, either put on my spare clothes or wait till I get you something to wear."

Your eyes flashed with a hint of defiance as you shrug off in hold, "I don't care if anyone sees me naked.", you snip to rile him up.

Soonyoung steps closer, "If you let another man look at this state of yours whether or not I'm around, I will rip them apart," he growls.

And he doesn't waste any time. His carnal instincts takes over once again so you are now bent her over the bathroom counter, his hands gripping your hips as he plunges into you from behind as he fucks with a wild abandon.

The bathroom was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing and the slick slap of the bodies. His fingers dug into your hips as he thrust deep inside you, his lips pressing a savage kiss to your shoulder, "Mine."

Your head falls back, breath hitching as Soonyoung hits a particularly sensitive spot deep inside you, "Yes.", you gasp, "All yours."

As your orgasm subsides for the second time, Soonyoung gently pulls out of you and turns you to face him. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, "I mean it," he murmurs, "You're mine."

You are taken aback by this sudden affectionate gesture. You hadn't expected tenderness from him after your rough session earlier. You look up at him and smile softly, a strange warmth spreading through your chest, "I'm yours, Soonyoung.", you repeat, your voice softer this time.

Your husband smiles back and tilts your head up so he can see you better. He looks into your eyes, his own softening as he sees the sincerity in your gaze., "And I'm yours.", he whispers before leaning in and kissing you softly.

You have already melted the icy shield and Soonyoung thinks it's time he starts to show that he can be sincere, that he too wants this marriage to work.

Urgent knocks on the office door makes Soonyoung scrumbling out of the bathroom, searching for his clothes in a hurry. He knows that the pattern of those knocks always meant some trouble.

Just as he goes to open the door, he hears the clanking of the gun and turns back only to feel the metal being pressed on the skin of his forehead.

"Hey, Hoshi.", you smile at your husband condescendingly, holding him at the gunpoint.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip.

[edenprime]

I keep flip-flopping on whether I like Liara's change in characterization post-ME1. Was she changed exclusively by the devs/writers so that she could be an action girl, which is considered more interesting/sexier? Was it a side-effect of her being put on the "everyone is now an edgelord" train? Or did it actually make sense?

At the present I'm inclined to think it's a mix of the last two. At the start of ME, she says that she's barely an adult by asari standards, that her work isn't taken very seriously due to her young age. We overhear, in ME2, an asari on Illium say that she's 60, so she's finally moved out of her parents' house. I'd say this makes Liara's 106 years around the equivalent of early to mid twenties. She suddenly finds her mother, an extremely well-respected woman in her society, betraying her people and going off with a rogue man who's rallying one of the galaxy's boogeymen to work for him, hunting down and killing innocents, turning them into monsters. Then, when she's gone to hunt her down to stop her, she finds out she's indoctrinated, that she set out to stop Saren, not join him. Benezia finds her mind for a few minutes, tells her she truth of the indoctrination, and attacks her and the person she's falling in love with (her first love, too!) only to die in front of her.

Whether Shepard rejects her or not, it's clear that she's in love with them, that her feelings are still there when the collectors attack the Normandy. And right then, she sees another person important to her, at best a friend and at worst a lover, die in front of her. She finds out there's a race to get their dead body, that it can be given to their murderer, or to a terrorist organization. She chooses, for better or worse, the second, the one who, as she says on ME2, gives her some hope. She admits to Shepard that her feelings got the best of her in that case. After dying for the cause, she sees their reputation be torn to shreds and every discovery they made be buried by politicians.

She loses Feron, another ally, another friend.

So yes, she changes. She's a 23 year old who went from exploring 50 thousand year old dig sites to being in the center of a belic conflict with her mother as an enemy. She sees her love die a horrible death, choking on nothing in front of her.

Of course she becomes obsessive and single-minded. Of course she adopts some of Benezia's worse traits. Of course she hunts down the shadow broker with such ruthlessness. And of course her behavior softens with Shepard - they came back. She's not stupid, I'm sure she knows her gamble, when she gave Shepard's body to Cerberus, was not without its dangers. She knows Shepard could rightfully be mad at her. She knows Shepard could have not come back at all! But she did it all anyway. Regardless of how her behavior can be seen as creepy or morally wrong, I can see where she's coming from, and I don't think she's all that wrong for feeling the way she felt. She stops being the saint she was on the SR1, but she's not an evil witch, and she's definitely not even among the top 5 squad members who needs the most atonement. Or jail time.

[ruvviks]

Chapter >> 14 [x] Characters >> Cato Wu (oc), Lauren Dimas (oc), Mikhail Koshechkin (oc), Thibault Lajoie (oc), Vitali Dobrynin (oc), a long list of side characters Total >> 7.8k words Warnings >> Alcohol mention, arguing, blood mention, death mention, family / parents, violence mention

‘Need everyone in mission control, stat! Don’t just fuckin’ stand there- get Misha! Lauren, come in- I need you to get the boss on comms!’

Cato hurried through the hallway, maneuvering around the mercs on their way to mission control to get there before they would. She was attempting to get the clip of her chest armor fastened but with every footfall the two halves bounced off each other and she was starting to get increasingly frustrated about it.

‘Can’t get a hold of him,’ Lauren replied in her earpiece, her voice tense and a little distant- telling Cato she wasn’t even sat in her chair yet. ‘Still out on recon- out of signal bounds? I’ll scan the Net, see what I can find.’

She pushed the door to mission control open with her shoulder, the room already overly crowded with mercenaries; everyone who was in the building at the time, all loudly talking to each other while moving between computers and laptops and pointing at the screen on the wall.

Not much was happening yet. It simply showed a radar of Night City- pings from the NCPD, showing targets, people on the run- none of them the man they were looking for and frankly Cato had no idea how they would ever find him back.

‘What’s going on?’ Thibault asked, jogging over the second they noticed her entering the room. They were dressed in casual clothes; not suited up for gigs or a security shift, simply around to help out in the office itself for the day. Like most of the mercs in the room, for that matter; no one had expected this to happen. Which had exactly been what had allowed it to happen in the first place.

‘Ravager escaped.’

Edward Keizer.

Ex-Maelstrom, now one of Matvey’s mercenaries, personally responsible for many lost resources, injured mercs and both Mikhail and Vincent’s brief captivities in the past. Vitali had managed to capture him after they had successfully rescued Vincent from the man’s facility; and had kept him captive ever since, even after Ivan Dupoint’s unfortunate death earlier that year.

Cato had honestly forgotten a little bit about him.

Too preoccupied with other business; monitoring the situation with the Broker, keeping an eye out for any signs of another attack being planned- catching up with gigs as fast as possible- and then of course their brief time spent with Roksana Dobrynina, who had in her few days of being there proven to be more than a handful to Cato to the point she had needed to take some time off.

She’d only been back for a few days and hell had already broken loose again.

Entirely their own fault- all of them combined, it was of no use to point fingers and try to pin the blame on one person alone. They had not kept a close eye on him anymore and were now facing the consequences; but they needed to find him back. Who knew what he would do out there.

‘Fucking bastard,’ Thibault mumbled, following Cato to one of the computers that was still available. ‘How’d it happen?’

‘Hux went to bring him his breakfast and he wasn’t there anymore,’ Cato plainly answered. ‘Fucker escaped from his restraints, crawled out of a window and dropped himself on one of the lower floor’s balconies.’

‘Jesus.’

‘Got desperate, I s’pose. What’s a fall from over twenty high when you’ve already been stuck in a room for a few months?’

The door of mission control swung open again and Mikhail entered the room- finally, and after briefly looking around and finding Cato he quickly hurried his way over to her.

‘Already long gone,’ Cato said to him, shaking her head and throwing up her hands in desperation. ‘Dunno when he escaped exactly, Lauren’s getting settled in as we speak- she’ll know more soon. Dunno where he’s headed, dunno fuckin’ shit. And the boss isn’t here either! Bit of a pickle we’re in, it seems.’

‘Fantastic,’ Mikhail muttered and placed his hands on his hips. ‘Lauren?’

‘I’m here, I’m here, gimme a minute.’ A pause on the other side of the line, followed by soft humming and the brief flicker of the lights above their heads as Lauren logged into the systems. ‘Gonna try and see when he escaped, when he left the building. See if we can get a direction, make an estimate where he’d be right now.’

In Vitali’s absence, it was Mikhail who was in charge- though he never made any decisions entirely by himself, always needing Cato by his side for a second opinion. They worked well together; of course they did. Had worked together in the past and despite everything that had happened in their years apart, it was often as if they had not even been separated in the first place.

‘We should’ve paid more attention to him,’ Cato quietly said, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she watched security footage from the building pop up on the screen. ‘Bet he’s already found his way back to Dobrynin Senior by now. Wherever that may be.’

‘Either that, or worse.’ Mikhail clicked his tongue and visibly clenched his jaw as a sharp exhale left his chest. ‘We know what he is capable of. Who knows who else he might hurt while out there?’

‘Geez, kids, lighten up a little? Take a look.’

The both of them redirected their attention to the screen again and watched as Lauren showed them footage from early that morning; five minutes past six, the exact moment Ravager dropped himself onto a balcony and took the elevator down to ground level.

‘Where’s he headed?’ Thibault asked.

‘North,’ Lauren answered, ‘from what I can tell at least. Headed to City Center in a stolen vehicle- I’ll see if I can track him down in a minute. I’ll first try to get the boss on the line again now, stand by.’

‘Cool beans.’ Cato paused and turned to look up at Mikhail. ‘And in the meantime?’

Mikhail quietly repeated her in Russian, glancing around the room and exhaling sharply a second time. ‘We do what we can, the old-fashioned way. Wish me luck.’

‘Break a leg, big boy.’

Cato watched in silence as Mikhail walked up to the front of the room, nervously rubbing his hands together as a string of tics left his lips and he tilted his head to the side a couple of times. Not a fan of speaking for a crowd- and Cato knew that, but encouraged him to do it anyway knowing the other mercs were far more likely to listen to him than to her.

‘Alright, listen up!’ Mikhail yelled, instantly drawing everyone’s attention and silence washed over the room.

‘We are working on an exact location,’ he continued. ‘Might take an hour- might take a day. Longer, who knows. Everyone who’s here today is going to make themself useful; I want teams out in field, eyes and ears on the streets. Vitali won’t be back until tonight and I’m not going to simply sit around and wait for him to return.’

‘Convenient for him, isn’t it?’ someone suddenly said, their voice sharply cutting through the silence of the room. ‘Like earlier, with the raids. With the cargo incident.’

‘What exactly are you implying here?’ Mikhail asked, a dark shadow washing over his face and Cato immediately straightened her back to see who was talking; she knew very well Mikhail was not actually asking for an explanation.

One of the newer mercs, she presumed- short, curly hair and big blue eyes behind glasses, and she had never seen them around before. They opened their mouth to speak again but noticed the warning looks from those around them and wisely kept the rest of their commentary to themself.

‘But what if he’s doing this?’ someone else suddenly broke the silence once more and everyone immediately started talking over each other at once- Cato couldn’t make out much of any of it, but she could hear both agreeing and disagreeing noises erupt from the audience.

‘Who fuckin’ said that?’ she yelled, turning around and putting her hands on her hips as she tried to oversee the crowd; but her height didn’t allow her to see very far and she quickly gave up, eyes slowly trailing her surroundings until she found Vincent, standing miserably by himself in the corner of the room.

Part of her understood why some of the less involved mercenaries would find Vitali’s regular absence suspicious. Those who knew him for longer knew how he liked to be involved in his business- and how he would go out into the field himself more than often to join his mercenaries on gigs or to deal with situations himself.

But the unfortunate timing of it all played right into Matvey’s hands and with each passing day, more and more people seemed to start turning against their fixer.

But Cato would never be one of them.

She had not known Vitali as long as Mikhail and did not know him as well as Vincent, but she didn’t need to. He had offered her shelter and protection after she’d shown up there several years back, on the run from Kang Tao with no other fixer wanting to do business with her because of it- and when Daniil had shown up and had attacked her earlier that year, Vitali had not stopped apologizing profusely to her later that day as if he had attacked her himself.

Cato maneuvered through the crowd, shoving some mercs aside to get to Vincent and she carefully reached out for his arm to get his attention. He merely clenched his jaw and shifted position against the wall, briefly glancing further into the room before redirecting his attention to her.

‘He’s not doing this,’ he quietly said, his voice barely audible above the clamor. ‘He wouldn’t- He would never do something like this.’

‘I know,’ Cato said, softly squeezing his arm as she spoke. She turned around again and straightened her back, clearing her throat before continuing.

‘Everybody shut the fuck up!’

Silence washed over the room and people turned to look at her- some relieved, others annoyed. Cato threw up her hands and gestured at the screen behind Mikhail; once more showing the radar with the map of Night City, and this time with areas marked in bright red where Ravager could be.

‘We’ve got work to do,’ she said, dropping her hands again. ‘All of us, Vitali included. In fact- he’s already been busy since what- six, seven in the morning? And what are you gonks doing, standin’ here? Yelling about whether or not he’s doing all of this himself? I’m sorry, are we talkin’ about the same man here?’

‘This is exactly what his father is trying to do,’ Mikhail chimed in. ‘Trying to create a rift between him and us. Trying to take everything away from him- orchestrate his downfall by launching attacks and trying to shift the blame to him. And I for one am not going to let that happen.’

‘And neither should any of you!’ Cato paused, turning to look at Vincent again and she gave his arm a quick, reassuring tap before moving away and walking over to Mikhail, to join him in front of the rest of the crowd.

‘Ravager escaped. He broke free, and he’s on the loose right now doing lord knows what and right now we’re the only ones who can get his ass back in containment where he belongs. Anyone too much of a pissbaby to help, leave the fuckin’ room right now. We don’t need you here.’

Silence, once more. People nervously glanced around, waiting for any sort of movement; and after a few seconds of nothing, a few of them slowly started making their way back toward the door, gazes glued to the ground, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

‘Thank you for being honest,’ Cato sarcastically called after them. ‘Don’t let the door hit you on the way out. Hey- How’s Matvey’s boot taste?’

‘Cato,’ Lauren quietly said.

‘Bunch of fuckin’ cowards.’ Cato clenched her jaw and took a step back, exhaling sharply when one merc threw up a middle finger in her direction on their way out. Mikhail quickly placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed softly- not that it was all that necessary. Cato wasn’t planning on going after the mercs anyway.

‘Everyone else,’ Mikhail said, ‘make teams of four. Lauren will assign you to an area and I do not want to see you back until you’ve gone through every single street in that neighborhood. Understood?’

‘I need Panam, Thibault and V here with me,’ Cato added. ‘Anyone else can get to work. Let’s find this motherfucker before he hurts someone else.’

She watched in silence as people immediately got on the move, mercs finding each other to form teams and reaching out to Lauren- who disconnected temporarily from the inner circle’s channel- to get an area assigned. The three people she had called out for slowly found their way to her, while Mikhail sat himself down backwards on a chair nearby.

‘Special treatment for us?’ Panam asked, giving Cato a wink while hopping onto one of the desks. ‘What gives?’

‘We’re staying here,’ Cato said. ‘V- please, before you say anything- I know you’re eager to go out, but we gotta stay alert. Might just be another trap or part of Matvey’s plan. If Ravager comes back with reinforcements, we need to be ready.’

‘You’re better off asking Eddie to stay rather than me,’ Thibault said, gesturing at himself with a nervous little smile on his face. It faded the second he realized Cato wasn’t kidding.

‘I know what I’m doing,’ she said. ‘Best of the best. Eds is stronger in the field. We both know that.’

‘No luck with Vitali thus far, he is well out of bounds,’ Mikhail said, resting his arms on the back of the chair and placing his chin on top. ‘Best to assume he won’t be back until sunset, so until then it’s up to us.’

‘I know where he went,’ Vincent said. ‘I can easily go and get him if-’

‘No, V. I think- I think for now this is for the best.’

Cato stayed quiet as she looked between the two of them, biting the inside of her lip. Having the boss there with them in a time of crisis was nice, and reassuring; but she understood why Mikhail didn’t mind that he wasn’t there now, knowing very well Vitali had reached the end of his rope a long, long time ago.

She hoped they would find Ravager back before Vitali’s return. It would be the easiest for all of them- especially Vitali- and with a bit of luck she would be home before dinner and could get a good night’s rest.

The longer the situation lasted, the wearier everyone became.

Understandably so; Matvey had been around for long enough now, if you asked Cato, and she would be glad to have him dealt with sooner rather than later. Even though it had been a while since he himself had shown his face, his lasting influence on both the office and the city as a whole was hard to ignore and Cato wondered how much longer it would take for the situation to escalate for the worse.

With the rising threat of a new attack breathing down their necks, Ravager's escape had a highly unfortunate timing. Cato doubted it was part of the plan- no way Ravager could’ve still had contact with Vitali’s father in his captivity- but she did not want to take any risks either, which is exactly why she was staying behind.

‘All teams have been assigned,’ Lauren suddenly said, her voice audible to all of those still in the room with Cato. ‘I’ll continue monitoring the situation, see if I can close in on a specific location. Connecting you through to Judes right now, she’ll take care of any on-location business while I’m surveilling the Net.’

‘Alright, baby, be careful,’ Cato quickly said, clenching her fists behind her back to prevent her mind from wandering back to what had happened a couple of months ago, when Lauren had almost not woken up anymore after nearly getting fried-

‘Of course, sweetheart. Always.’

And the line went silent.

Cato clenched her jaw and lowered her gaze, unable to look any of her friends in the eyes as she took a moment to calm herself down. There was no need for panic, now; Lauren knew what she was doing and there was no way Matvey would be monitoring them so closely that he would see her diving into the Net and consider it a direct threat.

‘Alright, fuckers, I’m strapped in, let’s get going,’ Judy’s voice suddenly said through her earpiece. ‘Exits are covered, let’s secure any resources we still have and get some weapons ready.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ Cato said and nodded at the door, signaling to the others to get a move on.

She lingered behind, waiting for Mikhail to get up from his chair again and briefly turned off her earpiece- and he followed her lead, not questioning it as they waited for the others to leave the room.

‘If we don’t find him before Vitali returns…’ Cato quietly started, but Mikhail shook his head and cut her off.

‘Not for you to worry about,’ he said. ‘As far as he’s concerned this is my operation- I’ll take the blame. We tried reaching him and couldn’t and that is all there is to it. No need to try any harder, we will only be wasting more time.’

Cato knew Vitali did not mind Mikhail handling things for him without discussing anything beforehand; though given the circumstances she feared he would mind now, especially taking into account how Ravager had hurt both Mikhail and Vincent and how Vitali had absolutely not been done with him yet.

‘We should have just kept a closer eye on him,’ he quietly said and shook his head again, reaching out to Cato to tap her twice on her upper arm. ‘Too late for that now. All we can do now is try to get him back, yes?’

‘Yeah,’ she replied, reaching out to grab Mikhail’s hand and she pulled it to her face to plant a kiss on the back of it.

‘Come on. Let’s get to work.’

Another day, another fight.

Vitali flinched involuntarily when the door of the living room slammed shut. He was hidden away in his room, but the noise was more than loud enough to reach him and it echoed through the entire house together with Nadya’s heavy footfalls as she stomped through the hallway toward the front door.

Leaving again. Classic.

Vitali exhaled sharply as the front door slammed shut with similar force, the vibrations shaking the windows and rattling his bones. He glanced at his alarm clock- it was nearly seven in the evening. If he and his siblings wanted to have dinner any time soon he would probably have to make it himself, now.

Nadya had gotten angry at Matvey again.

Of course- what else? He had come home and had dared to look at his laptop after work hours to check his emails and Nadya had instantly decided to pull open her mouth, when she could have easily chosen not to. Matvey had tried to explain himself, she had taken it personally, he had gotten frustrated and the situation had escalated into a ten minute lasting shouting competition with neither party in the right- and one of them significantly more in the wrong than the other.

Vitali barely cared anymore. His parents’ disagreements often boiled down to the same few things and it was impossible to tell anymore which of them had caused the entire chain of dominos to fall in the first place; in the past he had occasionally tried to figure it out, but if anything thinking about it all for too long had only made him feel worse.

The house was eerily quiet now.

Vitali stared outside for a little bit longer, allowing his heartbeat to settle down. Whenever his parents would argue, he would simply not be able to keep himself under control even when in the safety and comfort of his own room, as if their fight was happening right there in front of his eyes and it was all his fault.

He often wondered if it was his fault. He had proven on many occasions to be more than a handful to deal with.

He pushed the thought out of his head and got up from his bed, leaving his room without giving it a second thought. The door to Roksana’s room was slightly ajar; he briefly stopped to peek inside, and gave his sister a soft smile when she waved at him from within the half-finished pillow fort on her bed that she was building with Daniil.

Vitali carefully entered the living room, quickly turning to move into the kitchen, expecting his father to be on the couch- yet much to his surprise he nearly ran right into him and it startled him for some reason, taking a jumpy step back as his heart skipped a beat.

Matvey still wore his Arasaka uniform; he had not even gotten the opportunity to change into something else yet. Jacket off, tie loosened and sleeves of his shirt rolled up as he leaned back into the kitchen counter with his hands solidly placed on top, white-knuckled with his fingers curled tightly around the edge.

He looked exhausted. Vitali was unsure what was going on for him at work, but he knew it hadn’t been easy for some time now; Matvey had been forced to make longer days than usual and it had already happened on multiple occasions that Vitali would come home from a party at four or five in the morning and his father would already be awake and getting ready to leave.

‘Sorry- Am I in the way?’ Matvey asked, noticing Vitali standing indecisively at the dining table.

‘No-! No,’ Vitali quickly responded and walked closer, leaning past his father to grab a glass from next to the sink and reaching for the fridge. ‘Just- wanted a drink.’

He exhaled sharply as he stared at the contents of the fridge, eyes slowly scanning for anything of his liking; and they lingered on the bottle of whisky inside the door for just a little longer than necessary, right before he snatched the carton of apple juice off the top shelf and closed the fridge door with his hip.

The silence that followed was deafening. Just the two of them standing in the kitchen, Vitali slowly pouring himself a glass of juice as his heart nearly pounded out of his chest again from stress. He glanced into his father’s direction; the man had still not moved and merely stared blankly ahead, his grip on the countertop still as tight as before.

‘Long day at work?’ Vitali quietly asked, setting the carton down on the counter and stuffing his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

‘One crisis after another.’ Matvey slowly shook his head and closed his eyes. ‘I won’t bore you with that. It is nothing for you to worry about.’

‘I mean- I asked.’

Another silence as Vitali briefly considered just walking away again- but instead he pushed his father aside a little and hopped onto the countertop, pulling his legs to his chest as he grabbed his glass and took a sip.

‘What did you do?’ he asked, pretending he hadn’t heard every single sentence of the fight already while Matvey turned to lean sideways against the counter to look at him.

‘I checked my email,’ he bluntly answered. ‘Which is something that I have to do sometimes if I want to keep the job she wanted me to have so badly.’

‘You’d think she would understand, considering she has to do the same.’

‘Hm.’

Vitali bit the inside of his cheek and watched his father fiddle with his watch, eyes absently focused on the sink as if he was in deep thought. He used the moment of silence to lean toward the fridge again and slowly put the carton back inside, hoping the awkward tension that had suddenly arisen would settle down again.

Nadya’s hypocrisy was crystal clear to everyone in the household, yet Vitali was still often the only one brave enough- or stupid enough- to call her out on it. How often she would chew Matvey out for things she herself did too; how often entire fights could have been avoided altogether had she just taken a moment to realize how unfair she was being.

‘Can I ask you something?’ Vitali suddenly asked, slightly startling himself with the wave of confidence as he turned back to look at Matvey.

‘You just did,’ Matvey simply said in response, and the corner of his mouth slightly pulled up when Vitali dramatically rolled his eyes and kicked his foot in his father’s direction.

‘Go ahead.’

‘Why are you two- you know, still together?’

Matvey’s smile faltered.

Vitali clenched his jaw and watched his father slowly rub his hand over his face, eyes wandering off to the living room and then the wall as he took a few steps back. For a single moment he genuinely seemed to think about Vitali’s question- but then a surprisingly sad look in his eyes replaced his thoughtful frown and he lowered his gaze, as he pushed himself away from the countertop.

And Vitali instantly felt bad.

At times, he truly wondered if his parents still loved each other; the way they could barely hold normal conversations anymore, the way they slept in separate rooms and the way there would be days they wouldn’t even look each other in the eyes.

‘I’m- I’m sorry,’ he quietly said, lowering his legs again and letting them dangle down over the edge of the countertop while nervously rubbing his hands over his lap. ‘I didn’t mean to-’

‘It’s alright. I understand.’

Matvey turned around again to look at him and gave him a reassuring nod, putting his hands on his hips as he sighed and averted his gaze.

‘I love your mother,’ he said and Vitali felt his heart drop. ‘I truly do- I always have. And yes, she can be a little stubborn sometimes- and she often says things in the heat of the moment she doesn’t mean- but I- I just-’

He couldn’t finish his sentence.

Vitali lowered his gaze and quickly finished his drink, a sudden knot in his chest causing his head to hurt- the feeling of tears threatening to well up in his eyes.

He understood his father’s frustration more than anyone else; Nadya was impossible to talk to and because of that nothing was ever talked out, and when she would come back after storming out of the front door she always expected everyone to apologize to her but never did any of that herself.

He set his glass back near the sink and carefully hopped off the countertop, eyes finding Matvey again; he had not moved yet, frozen to the ground and eyes staring straight ahead as he took visibly shallow breaths, falling apart at the seams in a way Vitali had never seen him do before.

‘You don’t speak of this to her,’ he suddenly said, not even able to look Vitali in the eyes.

‘Of course not,’ he quickly replied. ‘I would never.’

He could walk away now. Conversation was clearly over.

But something caused Vitali to hesitate and he stood there for just a little longer, thousands of thoughts and questions racing through his mind; and Matvey noticed his hesitation and finally looked at him once more, frowning lightly as he opened his mouth to speak again.

And without thinking, Vitali stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his father, hugging him tightly- something he had not done in years- with his face turned away and pressed solidly into his shoulder.

Matvey tensed up and did not move for a second, and Vitali half expected him to push him away; yet then he relaxed and hesitantly placed his hand on Vitali’s back, absently running it up and down a little the moment he realized Vitali wasn’t going to move away any time soon.

He knew it wouldn’t solve anything.

Nadya would come home that night, Matvey would apologize, they would go to bed in their separate rooms and the next morning everything would go right back to how it had always been. Perhaps Matvey would still be there around breakfast- giving the two of them the opportunity to bicker before either of their day had even started, and if Vitali was lucky enough he would already be awake to witness it happen in real time.

He couldn’t help but wonder, when his parents had last hugged each other.

He slowly let go again and stepped back, hands nervously clasped together as he slowly nodded and let his gaze wander through the entire kitchen, simply to avoid having to make eye contact. Matvey had regained himself now; straightened his back and gestured at the door leading into the hallway, his eyes also searching for anything to focus on other than his son.

‘Go get your siblings,’ he quietly said, a softness to his voice Vitali was not used to.

‘Your mother won’t come back for some hours, anyway. We’re ordering pizza.’

He should never have left.

It had not even been that important anyway; more of a wild guess than an actual possible lead and after an entire day of scouting in Pacifica and part of the Badlands Vitali had managed to draw the conclusion his father’s forces had merely been there to resupply, rather than anything else.

‘He’s entering the Megabuilding now, jefe. First team is at least six minutes away with this traffic- you’re closest as of now.’

He should never have fucking left.

Should have just sent Vincent, like he had offered the day before; should have just let his mercenaries deal with the situation and should have just gone to the office like every day and stay there, be there when his mercenaries would need him.

Vitali tightened his grip on the steering wheel to the point his knuckles hurt and he put his entire weight on the gas. Maneuvered around the other vehicles on the road with ease- the streets of Watson were still cluttered with cars but he was too high on adrenaline to be bothered by any of it, going well over the speed limit as he hurried his way to his destination.

How could he have forgotten about Ravager? Obviously not entirely so- the man had been present in his head just enough for Vitali to not forget to feed him and allow him daily bathroom breaks, but for some reason it had never occurred to him that the cyborg would probably try to escape at some point.

Vitali was not even entirely sure anymore why he hadn’t just killed him yet.

‘He’s taking his sweet time,’ Lauren said. ‘Stairs instead of the elevator. What floor was it again?’

‘Twentieth,’ Vitali absently answered, taking a turn a little too sharply and cutting the curb, swiftly steering around some pedestrians only just managed to jump aside and yelled at him as he passed them by.

It was nearing midnight.

Vitali had been away for the entire day and despite his mercs’ desperate attempts they had been unsuccessful at tracking down Ravager in his absence. Everyone out in the field had already been on their way back to Wellsprings- and then Lauren had suddenly received a ping from another runner in her corner, telling her the ex-Maelstrom merc had been spotted in Little China.

He had taken the metro, to Megabuilding H11.

And Vitali had instantly known something was terribly wrong.

He finally arrived at the entrance- jumped out of his car and sprinted inside, ignoring the looks of the building’s residents as he passed them by. The elevator was already down and he jumped in, knowing very well his leg would not allow him to run up that many sets of stairs; he startled an old lady by accident and quietly apologized while repeatedly slamming the button for the twentieth floor.

‘Need me to send reinforcements over?’ Lauren asked.

‘Have them on stand-by outside,’ Vitali answered, once again glancing in the direction of the old lady and reassuringly gesturing at her that everything was okay. ‘I can handle this myself.’

His eyes briefly moved over the corner of the elevator- the exact corner he had sat in not too long ago, unmoving for nearly an hour as he had been unable to drag himself back up on his feet and go back home. The knot in his stomach tightened and he shakily exhaled, quickly averting his gaze and reaching for the side of the elevator to lean against before he would lose his balance.

It didn’t feel right, being back there. The fight they’d had was still fresh in Vitali’s memory and it was all coming back in waves now the more the elevator ascended.

What could Ravager possibly gain from this? Why go there out of all possibilities- was it payback? An act of revenge- but for what? Directed at Vitali, for holding him in captivity for so long? Directed at Matvey, for not breaking him out?

The elevator came to a stop and Vitali ran out, bolting up the last set of stairs and taking out his handgun. He hoped he wasn’t too late; perhaps Ravager was still a few floors down, perhaps Vitali still had time to intercept him on his way to the apartment-

But the second he entered the hallway and noticed the front door slightly ajar, he knew that wasn’t the case.

Vitali moved forward. Every step heavier than the last, every footfall echoing loudly through the hallway and his head as he once more closed in on the small, remote apartment in Megabuilding H11, gun pointed as steadily as he could at the door and heart nearly beating out of his chest.

What if he was too late? What if he had already-?

‘No cams nearby, I’ve lost you. Talk to me, Vito- what’s happening?’

Vitali reached for the door and for a split second he hesitated again; shaking hand hovering mid-air, fingertips brushing past the cold metal sending a shiver down his spine. He was scared- terrified, holding his breath and biting his tongue until he tasted blood-

And he pushed it open.

‘Vitali? What’s going on? Did you get him?’

He was frozen.

The apartment was still how he remembered it; the same, poorly lit interior with worn furniture, the walls empty, the paint peeling. He still vividly remembered how she had stood there, at the door. How she had stepped aside, had allowed him to enter- had reached up to gently cup his cheeks-

Vitali slowly reached for his hearing aid, switching off the communication channel as he ignored Lauren’s continuous attempts to get him to answer. He could barely keep the gun still but refused to lower it, the barrel pointed right at where he wanted it to go.

They had not heard him enter.

And he did not know what to say.

Could only watch in pure terror as Ravager held Nadya tightly in his arms, her hands cradling his cybernetic face and their lips pressed against each other, a kiss more passionate Vitali had ever expected of her.

His arm felt heavy.

He could no longer hold up the gun and slowly lowered it, a shaky exhale leaving his lips as a frown took shape on his face. For a second, he was no longer sure if he was awake or not- had he fallen asleep behind the wheel? Had someone managed to put a bullet between his eyes during his recon mission and was this hell?

‘Mother?’

She pulled back the second he spoke- as if she had touched fire, pushing Ravager against his chest to get him away from her. And she turned her head, eyes searching- and finding Vitali with ease, the blood draining from her face.

A deafening silence washed over the room. Vitali’s eyes were unfocused; he could barely see straight anymore and the apartment spun around him and for a brief moment he feared he was going to pass out, all by himself in a hostile environment with a loaded gun at the disposal of anyone who wanted to hurt him.

The mere thought of that alone shook him awake again and he grabbed his weapon tightly in both hands, raising it up to Ravager’s chest- the man raised his hands in defense, but the grin on his face told Vitali he felt not even remotely intimidated and was simply playing along.

If he wanted to, he could charge at Vitali and disarm him with ease. And Vitali knew that the both of them were well aware of it.

‘What are you doing here?’ Nadya asked, her voice shaking as she crossed her arms in front of her chest and defensively took a step back.

‘I followed-’ Vitali quietly responded, but for some reason could not find the right words to say. ‘I thought that- I thought he would-’

‘Just get outta here, kid,’ Ravager suddenly interrupted him. ‘This isn’t any of your business. Just walk away.’

Vitali’s stomach turned and he could suddenly almost taste his poor excuse of a lunch from earlier that day in his mouth again, barely able to keep his composure while his chest tightened and he nearly threw up. Nadya muttered something in Russian- but he couldn’t focus on her voice enough to hear any of what she said, the ringing in his ears too overwhelming and the numbness in his head pressing down on his eardrums.

‘What is going on?’ he quietly asked and lowered the gun again, taking a single step toward his mother and ignoring Ravager doing the same. ‘Does he- Does he know?’

His mother didn’t respond.

And that told Vitali enough.

A sarcastic scoff left his lips and he smiled weakly, licking his lips while sticking the gun back in its holster and walking backwards until his back found solid wall. The voice inside his head was screaming at him again- telling him to get out of there, just walk away like Ravager had said-

‘Millions of people in Night City,’ Vitali said in a low voice, slightly tilting his head as his gaze caught Nadya’s again. ‘And you decide to fuck the man who is more of a walking corpse at this point than a human being.’

He felt disgusted.

Of course he had no idea what else had been happening- perhaps Nadya and Matvey were no longer a thing, perhaps it didn’t fucking matter. It shouldn’t matter at all to him, either way- why would he care? It really was none of his business.

Yet something about it all caused him to be sick to his stomach and another scoff left his lips, eyes glossing over again as he felt his entire world start to crumble around him and he felt his shoulders cave in.

‘All he wants is his revenge,’ Nadya said, a sob spilling out of her throat with it and she covered her mouth with her hand, as if she startled herself with it.

‘So you do this?’ Vitali asked, vaguely gesturing around the room. ‘Very mature. I love how your communication skills have developed backwards since I left home.’

‘What could I have said?’

‘What could you- I’m sorry, anything?! You’re his wife, for fuck’s sake!’

‘It would not have changed anything! He hasn’t loved me since the day you were born!’

‘Oh, so now it’s my fault again? How do you keep- He hasn’t loved you since- I’m sorry, are you blind?’

‘Why are you protecting him?’

‘I’m not protecting either of you- I’m just fucking baffled by your stupidity! Not every bad thing in your life is caused by others, you know that? The world doesn’t fucking revolve around you!’

‘And it doesn’t revolve around you either!’

‘Yet you seem very insistent that I am single-handedly ruining every fucking aspect of your life when you could have easily decided to just get a fucking divorce at any point in time and walk away like you have always wanted to do!’

Vitali’s words nearly echoed through the room and dead silence followed, his chest heaving as he attempted to catch his breath. He was seething again- the same red hot anger he had felt before raging through his system once more and fighting to get out, everything he had always wanted to say to his mother rolling off his tongue before he could reconsider any of it.

‘I don’t know what went wrong between you two but you should both be ashamed of yourselves,’ he panted, instinctively wiping his mouth with the back of his hand- half expecting there to be blood on it when he pulled it back.

‘I didn’t mean for this to happen,’ Nadya quietly cried in response.

‘For what to happen? This? Or for me to find out about it?’ Vitali paused, glancing at Ravager and huffing softly. ‘Hear that? Apparently you were a mistake.’

‘Hey- I have just about the same amount of stakes in this as you,’ Ravager simply replied and raised his hands in defense again. ‘I honestly don’t give a shit. I’m just here for a good time. You’re the one losin’ your damn marbles about it.’

With each passing second, Vitali started to regain himself more and more and he suddenly felt- embarrassed. His cheeks started to burn and an involuntary, strangled chuckle left his lips.

Ravager had a fair point- why was Vitali even trying to argue? Why did he care?

‘There are so many other things you could have done instead of this,’ he quietly said, redirecting his attention to his mother. ‘I don’t- I don’t get it.’

Nadya had always had something to say to him.

But now, she was quiet.

Stared at him with wide, hazy eyes, and she looked terrified- of him, perhaps? No longer the woman she used to be- far from it and somehow worse than Vitali remembered, the display of feigned shock and fear more frustrating to him than her pure rage and seething hatred for him when he had been younger.

‘There is nothing to get.’ Ravager scoffed and shook his head, clearly enjoying himself thoroughly as he continued. ‘If you’ve been gone for so many years- what do you really know? You weren’t there to see it. Who are you to have any say in any of this?’

Vitali wasn’t listening anymore.

He turned around, ignoring his mother saying his name- once, twice, trying to get his attention- but he was already out of the door and stumbling through the hallway, squinting his eyes at the sudden bright light and barely able to keep his balance.

He was just confused, now.

He had not been inside for more than ten minutes and yet he could already barely remember how it had gone- only one third of his own words still lingering in his brain and none of Nadya’s, he hadn’t really cared about any of her responses and not a single one of them had stuck.

The knot in his stomach finally tightened and so did his throat, seconds before he fell to his knees and threw up on the cold, concrete floor of the building. No one around to help him back up on his feet, this time; it was just him and the big, gaping hole in his chest of which he wasn’t really sure why it was suddenly there.

Nothing more than childish revenge.

Nadya’s stakes in the matter were crystal clear to him now. He finally understood why she had stuck around- and now she could finally leave if she wanted to, her newly found love back in her arms and enough money in her pocket to comfortably retire if she so pleased.

He wondered where she would go. The east coast? Another country?

He dragged himself back up on his feet, shivering and shaking and his hands freezing cold. For a split second, he wanted to go back- take out his gun and put a bullet between Ravager’s eyes, and a second one, and a third, and a fourth. Wanted nothing more than to tear his dead body to shreds with his bare hands, burn his remains, bury the ashes deep underground-

I want to go home.

A choked sob left Vitali’s lips and he suddenly felt exhausted.

Why did he even bother anymore? With every passing day it became harder and harder for him to keep going and he kept learning things that made him feel even worse than before; and he knew that none of it should matter. His family didn’t want him back anyway.

And yet there he was, spilling more tears for them as if it would help wash away his sorrows and his pain, as if it would undo everything time had done to them and bring back the days where everything had been good, when his parents had loved each other so- and had still loved him.

If they had ever even done that to begin with.

Back in the elevator, Vitali reached for his hearing aid again and switched the communication channel back on. Lauren immediately said something to him- but her words didn’t reach him anymore, his mind completely elsewhere as the elevator slowly began descending.

‘Everything is fine,’ Vitali bluntly said, suppressing another sob and straightening his back- regaining his composure, for nobody in particular. ‘You can call everyone back- Ravager is not our problem anymore.’

In hindsight, he didn’t know why he hadn’t just killed him. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted to do that in front of his mother- but she had worked for Arasaka Security long enough to be more than familiar with death and this wouldn’t have been any different.

Vitali bit the inside of his cheek, Lauren’s voice reassuringly in his ear yet none of what she said made sense to him anymore. He leaned against the wall and rested his head against the cold glass of the elevator, closing his eyes as he opened his mouth one last time to speak.

‘I’m going home.’

[randomdragonfires]

Moon Song | One Shot

Text Divider by @saradika-graphics

SUMMARY | He killed Lucerys, but Aemond sees the ghost of his nephew wherever he goes - especially in his sweet wife's eyes.

WARNINGS | 18+; Smut; ANGST; Delusions; Incest; Dark Themes; Kinslaying; DD;DNE!

WORD COUNT | 6.6k

A/N | Originally written as a birthday gift for @humanpurposes. Nothing says happy birthday like a dark fic about madness and murder I guess? :)

RAIN-SOAKED AND WEARY, AEMOND TRUDGES THROUGH the murky streets of King's Landing, his cold and damp riding leathers offering no respite. Each step echoes with the haunting images of Vhagar's reckless attack on Luke, the small, agonizing details etched into his mind like a deep carving. The city, shrouded in an eerie mist, seems to mourn his nephew in silent empathy.

A scared face. The cracking of jaws. The sight of Arrax’s wing flapping aimlessly down into the sea. Luke, falling free through the skies…

The Red Keep looms ahead, its imposing towers piercing the darkened sky. Aemond ascends the ancient stone steps in silence, his solitude a curtain shrouding the tempest raging within him. The guards watch him cautiously, sensing the palpable storm that accompanies the one-eyed Prince’s return. As he passes, the torches on the wall flicker, casting grotesque shadows that dance along the corridor walls.

Entering the shared chambers, Aemond's presence goes unnoticed at first. His wife awaits him, her gaze filled with a mixture of concern and anticipation as she sits at the edge of the bed, finding his gaze and immediately making note of his distress. He can feel her scrutiny, her eyes seeking answers he isn't ready to give. With how disappointed she may be, he is not sure that he’ll ever want her to know. But he knows she must, and that he’d rather it come from him than anyone else.

Words remain unspoken as Aemond, drenched and disheveled, closes the distance between them. She hasn’t moved, holding onto him by the waist as he encloses his cold hands onto the back of her head, finding some semblance of comfort in the warmth of her hair. His wife's face softened, ready to welcome him, oblivious to his guilt and agony. In the silence that hung thick in the air, he braced himself for the storm about to engulf their world.

“You’re cold, Aemond. Let me find you something warm to wear,” she says. He doesn’t let her leave him; he will not let her leave him, ever. In heavy times like these, he’s always quite liked having her to hold - and right now, it seems like she understands it just as well as she always does. She is a part of him, made to be by his side.

She’s my twin. She is mine. Her place is by my side, and nobody else’s!

He remembers the words. It was the night he had come to, after his eye had been slashed out. The marriage pact had been brokered in the aftermath, a compensation for the losses suffered. His nephew's tantrum and those venomous words had sown the seeds of a bitter possession, one that manifested in the subtle manipulative gestures that followed.

He had reveled in taunting Luke, relishing in the knowledge that he had triumphed over his nephew in more ways than one. Aemond had married his niece, a Princess of Targaryen blood, a strategic move with which he had alleviated the stain of bastardy off of her. He’d spend years taunting Luke over his wins, and he’d finally taken his life too. And now, his wife was about to cast him aside for it. 

As he confessed to his wife, his eye, haunted by the accident, bore into hers, seeking understanding, pleading for empathy. The air grew dense, the chasm between them widening like an insurmountable abyss, a reflection of the irreversible consequences that now consumed them. 

I need you to believe me.

In the flicker of candlelight, hope clung to Aemond like a shadow, a desperate desire for his wife to see beyond the tragedy. Yet, her features twisted in disbelief, mirroring the horror within him. He had not expected any less, but to see it happen is like a dagger twisting in his heart.

He’s losing her. He cannot lose her. As she tries to draw away, he lets desperation take over him. He would be damned if he let her slip away over something that he did not mean to happen. 

His grip on her tightens to the point of choking, her eyes widening as she realizes that she is trapped. Not just in his hold, but in this marriage with a man that would stop at nothing, and is not even above killing family to survive. How long before he kills me too, she probably thinks. 

He longs to assure her that he wouldn’t hurt a hair on her head, but she is angry. She does not want to hear from him, so he will settle for her forced presence for now. Surely she’ll see. He cannot bear for her to look scared and fearful - she looks too much like her twin when she does. The last thing Aemond needs is to be reminded of him. 

Her sobs soak through his already damp clothes. She tries to push him away, but he is like a never-ending nightmare - the more she tries, the tighter his hold becomes, refusing to give her the solitude she craves. He wants to, he is simply scared - what if she never chooses to welcome him again?

Why?

His touch, once a source of comfort, now repulses her, but he remains oblivious to her inner turmoil. In the midst of her agony, he lowers her gently onto the bed, attempting to offer solace through caresses and kisses, unaware that his touch has become a reminder, a brand of her brother's murderer. She refuses to believe that it was an accident, and he is further pained at the dark realization that he may not be above killing her if she tries to betray and leave him over this. After all, if he cannot have her, no one else will.

"Stay with me, wife. Stay with me, and you will be kept alive and safe.” Try to leave me, and you will not live to see the next sunrise. 

The unspoken threat hangs in the air, a chilling promise that holds its own through his silence and her sobs. She closes her eyes, her unease palpable, a fear of the man she shares her bed and heart with. Aemond, too, watches her drift away, inch by agonizing inch, knowing he will have to learn to endure. He’ll have to, if her place is by Aemond’s side - and the day he married her, he’d solidified that.

What he won’t quite get used to is realizing how much like Luke she looks in fear, and how her eyes make it seem as though he is boring into his nephew’s instead. The resemblance unnerves him as he is taken back to the skies of Storm’s End in his mind once again - Luke had looked just as fearful for his life in his last moments. She is a reminder of what he’s done, of the half of her who is now lost.

How could he have expected that his own living, breathing wife would haunt him so?

THE LIBRARY IS CLOAKED IN A HUSHED DARKNESS as Aemond buries himself in his book, the words flying over his head as he tries to comprehend them. The oppressive silence of the night presses upon him, mirroring the strain in his heart. His worry for his wife weighs heavily on his mind, a persistent ache that refuses to be ignored. She has withdrawn from him, choosing silence over conversation, and the void between them grows deeper with each passing day.

In dreams, Luke sits atop his fledgling dragon, looking at him with a somber expression that makes him appear at peace. They are in the skies of Storm’s End again, only this time, neither of them is involved in a chase. They face each other, and each time, Luke talks, and Aemond seems to have no choice but to listen.

This did not have to happen, uncle, he would say. You could have let me live.

Every time, he wakes and resists the urge to slam his fists and pull his spun silver hair out as he wills the fragments of Lucerys to leave him be. He had initially blamed the shock, but even as he gains his bearings, the visions, dreams, and voices only seem to become louder, stronger, and sharper. It would seem that the more desensitized and ready to face war he becomes, the more his nephew insists on haunting him - reminding him that he is no war god, but simply a boy forced to grow into a man too soon.

This did not have to happen, uncle. You made a terrible mistake.

“Leave me in peace bastard, be gone!” He would scream as he slams his fist into the table and sends parchment flying. 

Aemond's torment continues unabated, the ghost of Luke lingering in every corner of his life, a silent spirit that refuses to be exorcized. Late at night, as Aemond lies in bed, he catches glimpses of Luke's face in the shadows that dance on the walls, his eyes hauntingly fixed upon him. The weight of his gaze bears down on Aemond's soul, making sleep an elusive and tormenting escape.

In the courtyard, where the echoes of laughter resound, Aemond finds himself frozen in place, the air heavy with Luke's presence. The wind carries whispers that seem to be the soft murmur of Luke's voice, leaving Aemond questioning his sanity. He can almost feel Luke's hand on his shoulder, a touch that sends shivers down his spine and leaves him grasping at the emptiness.

During war strategy sessions, Aemond's mind plays cruel tricks on him. As he pores over maps of wargrounds and fortified keeps, Luke's reflection materializes beside him, scrutinizing terrains with an otherworldly knowledge. Aemond's fingers tremble as he traces the borders, half-expecting Luke to offer his uninvited and foolish insights, but the silence remains.

In the Great Hall, where feasts were once lively celebrations, Aemond finds himself unable to escape the ghostly presence. The sound of revelry - that Aegon insists upon as they celebrate Luke’s death - becomes a haunting cacophony, and he can almost hear Luke's laughter intermingling with the echoes of those who celebrate his demise. Aemond often finds himself raising his goblet in a futile toast, the wine swirling like a macabre dance, mirroring the torment within him.

Even in the solace of nature, where one would hope to find peace, Aemond can't escape the ghostly reminders. Trees cast shadows that resemble Luke's silhouette as Aemond and Vhagar fly overhead, and the chilly air seems to whisper secrets that he strains to understand.

As he closes the book, a phantom chill creeps into the room. A sense of unease claws at him as he tries to erase the recollections from mind, as though doing so would remove the occurrences altogether. The chilly night air outside intensifies, causing the candle flame to dance wildly before it sputters and extinguishes with a subtle hiss. Aemond dismisses the notion, attributing it to a mere draft, and turns away from the now darkened candle.

As he turns, his reflection in the ornate mirror catches his eye, but instead of his own weary countenance, the mirror unveils the ghostly image of Luke. Aemond's breath catches in his throat as he stares into the haunted eyes of his nephew. The dim light casts an eerie glow on his ethereal almost-figure, and the air in the library seems charged with an otherworldly energy. The weight of guilt and the eerie manifestations converged, leaving Aemond paralyzed in the haunting stillness of the library, caught between the realms of the living and the departed.

"This did not have to happen, uncle," Luke's voice carries a weight of unspoken sorrow, each word etched with the regret of an untimely departure. The ghostly echoes linger in the air, weaving through the ancient shelves of books that stand as silent witnesses to this mad exchange.

Aemond - his breath catching in his throat - struggles to find the right response. The weight of guilt presses upon him as he gazes into Luke, dazed. The regret, palpable and suffocating, threatens to consume him. Luke lingers, a reminder of all his irreversible choices. Caught in the grip of the moment, Aemond feels a lump forming in his throat. "I never wanted it to end this way," he whispers, his voice tinged with regret that he would never have admitted to feeling if he hadn't had to voice it out loud. 

"You made a terrible mistake," Luke's voice echoes, the accusatory tone cutting through the oppressive silence of the library. 

Aemond's eye meets the hollow gaze of his nephew. "I am aware, and I am burdened by it… by you." He confesses, the weight of guilt hanging heavily upon him. Memories of happier days in his marriage pass his mind, and he is once again left with the gnawing pain of not knowing if she will ever seek him out again. Is he going to be made to live with this chasm between them forever? How could she live without him?

And immediately, as thoughts of his sweet wife cross his mind, the image of Luke transforms into when he was much younger, his curls a lot more prominent and his face a bit more round. He says the words again, the same words that Aemond had heard him say about his marriage - and it is all he can do to not fall apart. "She's my twin. She is mine. Her place is by my side, and nobody else's!" Luke's words resonated in the stillness, each repetition intensifying the haunting atmosphere.

The air crackles with unresolved tension as the words loop, a haunting refrain that refuses to fade. Each spoken phrase intertwines with the musty scent of ancient books, filling the room with a lingering sense of melancholy. As the words pass through the room, the library stands witness to the unfolding chaos. Dust motes, disturbed by the weight of the conversation, hang suspended in the air like transient memories. The ambient firelight, filtered through the stained glass windows, casts a surreal glow on the troubled face of a man who desperately tries to escape the consequences of his actions. The words create ripples in the stillness of the library, a transient disturbance.

His fists clench, and with a roar of frustration, he lashes out at the mirror. The impact shatters the haunting reflection, the fractured pieces falling like a cascade of broken memories. Aemond, panting and wild-eyed, stares at the shattered remnants of the mirror as drops of his blood stain them all an angry, bloody red.

ON A DARK, EERIE MORNING, Aemond decides he will seek refuge in combat training with Cole. The rhythmic clash of steel on steel promises a momentary escape from the haunting of his tormented mind. In these fleeting moments, he clings to the hope that the precision demanded by the dance of death will anchor his thoughts, keeping them disciplined and resolute.

But the training ground transforms, and the air shimmers with the echoes of unsheathed swords. In the midst of training, Luke materializes. The world blurs as Aemond's gaze locks onto his nephew's phantom form, the arrogance etched upon his face mirroring the smirk that haunts him. A tempest of confusion descends, and in the blink of an eye, he lunges forward, sword clashing against an illusion.

Reality slips away, and he finds himself ensnared in a mirage - a realm where the dead dance with the living, taunting them with all they have left. In the throbbing aftermath, the truth bears down on him like a relentless storm.

He killed him. The admission echoes in the hollow chambers of his conscience, overtaking him completely. The clash of blades morphs into a funeral dirge, and as he stands amidst the lingering consequences of his actions, the training ground transforms into a graveyard of memories. The air hangs heavy with the scent of remorse, and the phantom of Luke lingers, a silent witness to the torment that now possesses Aemond.

How he wills for his nephew to leave him alone. How he wishes he could turn back time, to a day when his wife was happy with him, when he was not the object of repulsion in her eyes. How he wishes she would welcome him with open arms again...

But why would she, uncle? Why would she, when you have slain her twin and taken me away from her? Her true other half?

He swings his sword once more, the blade cutting through the air with a desperate force. Each slash is a fervent plea, hoping that the slashes would tear up the ghost of his bastard nephew to ribbons that fly away with the wind. Even in death, his nephew is a stain on his life that refuses to let him live in peace. First his eye, now his wife.

Her place is by my side, uncle. And by killing me, you only reminded her of that.

The echoes of Luke's haunting words reverberate through the empty training ground, as Aemond battles not only the illusions before him but also the relentless demons within. The weight of his actions, the echoes of his nephew's voice, and the damning truth merge into a haunting symphony that accompanies each swing of his sword, forming an enemy much more dangerous than the Blacks that he’d sworn to kill.

The air is thick with the acrid scent of remorse. Aemond's movements become more desperate, as if trying to carve out a safe haven from the phantoms that encircle him. The blade slices through him, yet Luke's voice persists, an unyielding reminder of the havoc wrought upon not just his life but everyone’s around him.

Amidst his violent dance with illusions, Aemond longs for the solace that has eluded him since that fateful day at Storm's End. His sword becomes an extension of his anguish, a vessel through which he hopes to banish the nightmares that torment his every waking moment. The words resonate, mocking his attempts to escape the repercussions of his actions.

Aemond's grip tightens on the hilt of the sword, the struggle etched across his face as he battles the intangible. The illusion persists, refusing to be vanquished, a testament to the indomitable force of guilt and regret.

He lowers his sword and the ghostly echoes of Luke's voice linger. The training ground falls silent, a wave of unresolved grief as Aemond grapples with the realization that, even in death, his nephew remains an inescapable presence in the twisted tapestry of his existence.

Luke smiles once more, and Aemond slams the tip of his sword into the gravel, watching it fall to the side as he screams. Luke’s reflection is a sharp image on his blade, but when he looks up, the ground is empty, save for a worried mentor that watches him from the side. What must he do to gain solitude again?

The air in the training ground seems to thicken further as Aemond walks away to put his sword aside. The haunting memories of his past misdeeds cling to him like a shroud, and the distant echoes of Luke's words continue to reverberate in his mind. The once-familiar grounds feel like a journey through a desolate and forsaken landscape as he somehow registers the distant sounds of Cole calling out his name in worry.

As Aemond picks up the sheath, he senses an eerie silence enveloping the surroundings. The wind carries whispers of his regrets, and the atmosphere is charged with an unsettling energy. He looks up to see his wife standing at one of the windows, her gaze fixed on a seemingly endless point beyond the horizon. The pain of a fractured marriage weighs heavily on his shoulders, and his arrogance, once a shield, now crumbles under the weight of remorse.

Their eyes meet, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. He reads the emptiness in her eyes, an emptiness that reflects the void he has created between them. Aemond's heart sinks, realizing that his mistakes have irreparably damaged the bond he once took for granted. The echo of Luke's haunting voice intertwines with the desolation that surrounds him.

She is his, but he does not want to have her like this; unwilling. Unable to withstand the haunting gaze, Aemond turns away. The clang of metal against metal resonates in the air as he sheathed his sword. The once-sharp blade now feels heavy, burdened with the weight of his own sins.

Before he leaves, compelled by an unseen force, Aemond looks up at the tower once more. But this time, it is not his wife who meets his gaze. Instead, the window frames the ghostly figure of Luke, staring back with fear etched on his face. Before he can further contemplate the vision, she is right there again, looking away. With the many sightings of Luke that he is subjected to, Aemond is not fazed anymore. But he is once more reminded of how similar his nephew and wife look in fear. He does not like seeing her this way.

A shiver courses down Aemond's spine as his gaze meets the ghostly visage of his nephew. Before he can avert his eyes, the apparition transforms into his wife, each manifestation carrying an accusing, sorrowful, and frightened expression. The visions alternate with unsettling speed, a haunting dance where Luke and his wife exchange places in the blink of an eye. 

Aemond is unnerved by the rapidity with which the pair appears almost indistinguishable, their features blending into an eerie resemblance that sends chills through his soul. The accusatory eyes of Luke and the sorrowful gaze of his wife interchange with a disorienting fluidity, leaving Aemond trapped in a whirlwind of regret, fear, and a gnawing sense of the uncanny.

He walks away, steps definitive and terror-struck as he steps into the tower. The silence is deafening, broken only by the echoes of regrets and the distant wind. Aemond, haunted by the consequences of his actions, contemplates the surreal encounter. The armor-laden grounds, once a place of training, now serve as the stage for the haunting manifestations of his past. The ghost of Luke remains and so does his remembrance of a happier wife - who, for reasons he cannot fathom, reminds him of his biggest mistake. A constant reminder that redemption may be forever out of reach.

THE WORD HOLDS TOO MUCH EMOTION than he can bear to pour into his voice, but he says it all the same.

“Wife.”

As Aemond approaches her, he takes in the sight of her, a weak vision of House Strong's distinct features marked by dark hair and blue eyes. The vibrant happiness that once defined her has been replaced by weariness, one that seems to have settled into the very core of her being.

Her brown hair, once a shiny cascade, now hangs in loose tendrils, lacking the luster it once possessed. The dim light highlights her fatigue, revealing the toll that the sorrow of losing her brother has taken on her. The lines etched upon her face speak of countless nights spent wrestling nightmares and the strain of unanswered questions. Her eyes, once bright and expressive, now carry a perpetual sadness and seem to bear the weight of all her losses.

Does she grieve for them too? For their marriage? For him and all the time they’ve lost?

As Aemond gathers the courage to approach, he can't help but feel a pang of regret for the role he played in casting this shadow over the woman he once knew and still loves. The air around her seems heavy with declarations unmade, the room echoing with the quiet desperation of a fractured connection that he is grasping at to mend. Aemond, yearning for reconciliation, steels himself to bridge the gap that has grown between them, hoping to heal not just their relationship, but her as well. 

She turns to look at him, the faint moonlight from the window hitting her face as she assesses the man that stands before her. Not her husband, no - Aemond knows how she looked at him when she loved him. Now she simply stares through him, understanding that it’s her brother’s killer that she is facing. He doesn’t know what hurts him more - her grief, or her cluelessness. 

She doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t walk away either, empowering him to take a few steps further. He reaches out to her and takes her hand, and smiles by the corner of his lips when she doesn’t grab her hand back. 

“Are you… well?”

The idiocy of the question while he sees how tired she is does not escape him, but in all honesty, she has him tongue-tied. Aemond has missed her touch, and simply getting to hold her hand again has set a fire ablaze in him that he cannot seem to quell.

“As well as one can be, considering the circumstances.”

Time stands still as he takes in the sound of her voice, hoarse from not having said much in a long while. His mother tries with her, but even the Queen can’t make his grief-stricken wife budge - she would stay until she couldn’t, leaving his wife to her thoughts. What could she say to make things better anyhow?  I’m sorry my son killed your brother? I’m sorry you’re caught in a war that is not of your making? I’m sorry you cannot look at your husband with anything but disdain?

He is rendered well and truly silent as he tries to measure her feelings, but she beats him to it as she speaks again - addressing the elephant in the room as quickly as she is able. “Are you here to apologize for murdering my brother?”

“It was an accident.”

He knows he shouldn’t be arguing, but what was he to do? He’d let the world speak cruelly of him and brand him a kinslayer, but he cannot have his own wife hate him so. His defense of his actions only seem to spur her further as she pushes her free hand into his chest, and he holds onto her hand tighter, unwilling to let her go like she wants to.

“Don’t demean yourself by justifying your venom, Aemond. You have hated Luke your entire life, and I’d rather you not make years of hatred seem like nothing in your pursuit to make a better name for yourself with me now. You’re well past that, valzȳrys.” She spits out the last word, making him feel hurt and horrendously out of place. husband

“You don’t believe me.”

“You killed him!”

She sobs, her tears making it very clear that he is a lot less in her eyes now than he used to be. He fights the urge to scream, to hold her by the shoulders and shake sense into her. He wants to remind her that he is not what she thinks him to be, and that he genuinely would never do anything to hurt her. But he has. And he is now facing the consequences of weighing the choices and choosing wrong. How he wishes he’d simply let Luke leave - Aemond had won, why didn’t he?

Her sobs echo in the strained silence, the air thick with the weight of unspoken grievances. In a moment of raw vulnerability, she hits him square on his chest - each strike of her closed fists carrying the weight of accumulated sorrow, an outward manifestation of the tumultuous emotions that have festered within. Aemond, initially taken aback, winces. 

Yet, even as the blows intensify, Aemond doesn't recoil. Instead, he envelops her in a desperate embrace, a gesture born not out of defiance but of a shared longing for understanding. The chamber becomes a battleground of emotions, the struggle to make sense of their fractured marriage playing out in light of all that has taken place.

“I want to hate you so much.” She says, the words choked out as her voice comes out muffled. Her lips are branded onto his chest as she mouths the words over the leathers he wears. “I want to. You’re a monster, that's all I see. I hate you so much.”

He pretends to not hear any of the damning words, for fear of hurting her in the anger that they rouse in him. She looks up at him, and all he wants is to crush her in his hold as he feels the anger creep up on him. But what she says next knocks the wind out of him, reminding him of why he has taken the trouble to come here to try and repair their marriage. 

“But I love you all the same, and I don’t know if I hate you or the love I hold more.”

It is all the confirmation he needs. She is not out of reach just yet. Aemond, grappling with the weight of her words, feels a heavy tension in the air as her lips remain pressed against his chest, the muffled admissions still hanging in the space between them.

As she lifts her head, her eyes, red and swollen, meet his. Aemond sees the internal conflict etched into the lines of her face, torn between the desire to loathe him and the persistent, undeniable love that refuses to be extinguished. He remains silent, understanding the gravity of her admission, aware that any response from him could tip the fragile balance they are trying to restore.

In a moment suspended between resentment and longing, she tentatively reaches up to touch his face, her fingertips tracing the contours of his jaw. Aemond, still holding back the urge to speak, feels the warmth of her touch, a gesture that speaks volumes. Then, as if guided by an invisible force, their lips meet in a hesitant, exploratory kiss. It is not a fiery embrace born out of passion; rather, it is a delicate connection, an attempt to bridge the emotional distance that has grown between them. 

And then Luke surfaces, yet again.

He holds her tighter and kisses her deep, his tongue begging for entrance as he fights the ghost of Luke, staring right at him as he tries to make his wife forgive him. With every movement of their joined lips, he refutes his dead nephew’s words. He is hers, and she is his. From this day, till the end of their days. 

Not Luke’s. His.

“Mine,” he mumbles in between kisses. Over and over until the blasted bastard’s spirit hears and lets him live. But why should he, when Aemond did not offer him the same courtesy? “You’re mine. No one else’s.”

“What?” He doesn’t answer her murmured question, not quite ready to make her privy to the haunting of his mind by her twin. He does not want to let him ruin this moment for them, not any more than he already has. His hands involuntarily find her skirts, pushing them up as he lowers his lips to kiss her neck.

The skin of her thighs are as soft as he’d remembered, his hands relishing in the touch as it disappears under her dress. She clings to him, a slight whine escaping her lips as his fingertips graze her skin, holding onto her backside as he lifts her up effortlessly, feet carrying them both and pushing her into the nearest wall. The kiss is never ending, and he’d not have it any other way.He presses into her, his hands holding her by the hip so tight that he’s probably bruising her, but he is too far gone to care. He needs to prove his nephew wrong, and with each moment he believes he is closer to vanquishing the ghost of the Strong pup from his consciousness.

“Take me,” she says. He hears her, but he is not quite sure he is listening. However, he does as she says. He has wanted this for long, having missed her touch for long, having missed her wanting him for long. He has wanted this for too long to do anything otherwise, and so he does. He growls as he bites her neck, while she unlaces his breeches and lets his cock spring free. The weeping tip is erect and stands proud, and he hopes she can see what she could have had in the time that she pushed him away. No matter, she’s here now.

He is taken aback by how tight she is, how warm and inviting she is despite it all. Her wetness engulfs him as he thrusts into her, making up for wasted time. With each thrust and with each moan that she lets out, he hopes and prays that their marriage will endure - but the phantom of his nephew is never ending as he refuses to fade. Aemond claims her as is his right, but as he does, he realizes his true goal is to simply remind the ghost in his head that she is his, and no one else’s.

“Mine.”

She leans into him, meeting his forehead with hers as her hair falls around them. Her panting breaths and heaving chest has him in a tight chokehold, and it almost keeps him from being haunted by her twin. Almost.

She peaks with a shuddering moan, and as she falls into him - limp and willing - he chases his pleasure. He brings her down to stand and mindlessly thrusts into her as he chants mine, mine, mine over and over again and when he does spill in her, he wants to be able to only experience pleasure, and nothing else. 

Surely his mind is playing tricks on him, or Luke has simply taken over Aemond in a capacity far beyond his control - for he is certain he sees him in her eyes for just a moment, taunting him and reveling in his misery.  

The memory hits him like whiplash, and it is all he can think of.

Aemond’s hands encircle her delicate throat, pressing her frail form against the unforgiving stone wall, as though he intends to merge her essence with its cold surface. The echoes of her labored panting reverberate in the air, a desperate struggle for breath, while he, consumed by an unrelenting force, cannot cease his actions. 

Her blue eyes roll back in agony, and the veins on her neck stand out more prominently than usual, appearing blue in certain lights and green in others - details he might have discerned if not blinded by rage and madness.

He sees clearly, he always does. But in this moment, the intensity of his anger clouds his judgment, rendering him as blind as he is perceptive in moments of calm. Her pallor intensifies, and her hands futilely attempt to pry his fingers from her skin, seeking reprieve - he wants to let go, but he cannot. How could he?

His nephew has haunted him for years, much like the famed phantom of Harrenhal. Luke may have only been nine years of age when he took Aemond’s eye, but it has wielded a malevolent influence throughout his journey from boyhood to manhood. It has been the root cause for a lot of what he’s done - right from marrying her, to now killing her so she can join her brother wherever he is.

He needs to banish the haunting memory of his nephew from his tormented consciousness. He wants so badly for the words to stop playing in his head, weaving a harsh thread of thoughts that he cannot seem to find his way out of. Her life hangs by a thread, one that he stretches taut until she snaps.

As much as he resents acknowledging it, perhaps Lucerys was right. He isn't killing her; he is merely guiding her to where she belongs, by his side. “Aemond…” Her plea is feeble, choked, and nearly devoid of a voice. “Husband, please…” He hears his sweet wife’s last words, but he refuses to listen.

As the light in her eyes slowly dims, he watches as she struggles to keep her eyes open. Her hold on his choking hand loosens and loses its fight, and she gives in. It is almost as though they are back to how they were, in the days when they were happier, and his hands had been around her neck in much more sensual moments - always just enough, never as tight and deadly as this.

She looks almost peaceful in this state, in the last moments where she’s accepted that she has outrun her course. He cannot have her this way, does not want her this way -  where she fears him and what he has truly become; where every moment that she looks at him with mixed emotions, he is reminded of his nephew and the day he died.

Cursed bastard.

Her once kind smiles, the very essence that once distinguished her from her twin, have undergone a haunting transformation. Her face has since been etched with an unspoken terror, a fear that clings to her like a shroud of impending doom. Every glance she casts seems laden with an eerie anticipation, as if she is poised to deliver a fatal blow.

In those harrowing moments, the resemblance between them becomes a grotesque mirror, reflecting a likeness he cannot bear to acknowledge. The weight of her presence - his presence - is suffocating, an unsettling reminder of his own recklessness. He cannot afford the luxury of a wavering mind, not in the midst of a relentless war that demands his unwavering focus.

This connection has become an unbearable burden, stoking a fury within him that knows no bounds. All he craves is the dissolution of his nephew's haunting memory, an obliteration that refuses to comply with the confines of his subconscious. Instead, it lingers, an ominous specter that shadows his every waking moment, intensifying the horrors that plague him day and night.

And then, her breathing ceases.

The chilling realization of what he’s done crashes over him like a wave, dragging him into the abyss of his own making. The haunting echoes of his nephew's voice, the relentless specter that had tormented his every waking moment ever since the fateful day at Storm’s End, had finally ceased. However, the newfound silence is shattered by the ghastly thud of her lifeless form crumpling to the floor, unleashing an eerie force that wraps its tendrils around his soul.

She seems liberated from the oppressive shackles of fear and her lifeless face descends into an eerie calm that chills the marrow of his bones. In death, she appears more tranquil than any moment he witnessed in life since her twin’s passing. The grotesque disparity between her and Lucerys’ final moments sends a shiver down his spine, the air thick with the stench of regret and the palpable weight of his transgressions.

With a trembling hand, he reaches out to touch her slowly chilling forehead, pressing a sorrowful kiss upon it. The chamber becomes suffocating, the air thickening with an oppressive calm that clings to the shadows. In that macabre stillness, a chilling certainty takes hold — Lucerys will no longer haunt him, but the cost is etched in the lines of his lovely wife’s lifeless face.

As the reality of his irreversible choice seeps into his bones, a haunting question claws at the edges of his conscience: Was the liberation from the phantom of his nephew's influence worth the mad ending of his wife's life? The Seven bear witness to another one of his kinslaying crimes and the heavy silence that follows - a testament to the darkness that now envelopes his soul, as the shadows of the hearth themselves seem to recoil from the stench of blood that stains the very fabric of the air.

Now the twins are together in death, by each other’s side. 

Aemond is free.

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MASTERLIST

[whirlybirbs]

— BURNER CELL ; 2 ; DABI ; 荼毗

summary: after a week of silence, you finally text dabi. pairing: dabi / f!reader ; quirkless word count: 1.3k tag: humor, maladjusted dabi meets normal adult woman, flirting, canon-based world building, cancer mention, texting as a plot device, slight au, univeristy student!reader a/n: this stole all my concentration. siri play emo boy by ayesha erotica ← previous | the tag

It's the kind of week where, aside from class, human interaction isn't really on life's setlist. 

It's also the kind of week where you rediscover making a meal of raw cookie dough straight from the package. Your econ textbook might have a stranglehold on you, but you make enough time to scarf down a few globs between chapters — after all, who needs protein or fiber when you're sure this five-year master's program will kill you first?

Your head hurts.

You slump against the counter, refilling your water bottle. 

It's late now — and you can feel the quiet woes beginning to wane as you blink at the clock. By now, your friends are probably on their second or third drinks. You turned the invite down when they asked yesterday. Nuri tugged on your sweater sleeve and pouted the best pout she could manage, but you didn't budge. 

I've gotta finish this paper, I'm sorry, Nur'. 

You roll your jaw as you shut the faucet off, wandering to your freezer to wrangle some cubes from the tray. You bend it slowly, deep in thought. A few pop out, and you idly drop them into your water bottle with a twang. 

You're staring at your phone. It's by your computer on the counter. 

...You never did text Dabi. 

You told yourself it was for the best — after all, you weren't looking for a catastrophic derailment of your life at the moment. Things are good. You're two semesters away from finishing University, your family's bakery back in Kyoto is doing well, and Dad's chemotherapy seems to be working. Things are good! It's almost fall, you've managed to stick to your monthly budget, and Mizu settled in happily to your new apartment. 

No four-day poop strike like the last time you moved.

The large tuxedo cat in question ambles through the kitchen — brushing against your leg and letting out a long, low mrrooow. 

Things are great! 

You shouldn't text Dabi.

But... even if you did, it's not like it'd be the end of the world, right?

Wait, could he figure out where you lived from your number...?

You could use one of those anonymous texting services. Then, it wouldn't even be your number. Just some fake string of digits that allow you to satiate the bizarre curiosity that's been swirling in your head for the last week. 

You're sure the novelty will wear off. 

He's probably not even going to respond. 

You're telling yourself this is stupid as you begin to set up an account with the service — the app boasts privacy, andunlimited calls and texts... You can't help but feel a little strange as you finalize your account. 

It's done.

You import his contact with two taps and stare at the blank screen. 

...Now what?

Are you really going to do this? I mean — he's a wanted criminal. He's a member of the League of Villains. If anyone ever found out you were in contact with him, you'd be toast. You'd have All Might kicking your door in and demanding to look through your phone and that mental image is enough to make you cringe. Say goodbye to your degree, goodbye toyour future as Sakura Flour's owner, and goodbye to freedom. You're sure the Safety Commission would place you on some watch list for the rest of your life, and frankly, your tweets are already questionable. You don't need more scrutiny. 

...So, there are two options. 

Delete his number and move on... or don't get caught. 

You shouldn't text Dabi.

...But, you do.

Truth be told, he isn't shocked to see that cute Nuri girl hanging on Giran's arm again. The Broker seems pretty into her — the guy even mentioned something about taking her to a nice dinner during the week as a congrats on passing some big test. Dabi can't blame him. She's cute. Looks good in red. Not his type, but he can appreciate it from time to time.

However, Dabi is a little shocked that you're not a part of the group cheering in Giran's VIP section. There's bottle service being ordered, laughter, dancing, and a gaggle of pretty, five college girls — and none of them are you. 

His lips twist into a scowl. 

He decides he's leaving; his piss-poor drink is tossed back, and he dumps a bill down for the bartender before tugging his hood up and sucking his teeth. 

He never liked this club anyway.

He's crossing the threshold of the back door, stepping into the damp and dark alley, when the phone in his back pocket buzzes. Someone's smoking a Marlboro by the dumpster. The familiar smell makes Dabi's fingers twitch. 

He's tryna quit.

He tugs the phone from his pocket, no longer bothered by the splintered glass screen. His battery is at 13%. This fuckin' thing barely holds a charge anymore. 

The number on the screen isn't one he knows.

Dabi's passcode is unnecessarily long. His phone clicks open as he narrows his eyes and shambles towards the opening in the alley. He doesn't know this number. He has everyone's cell memorized that he needs. Shigaraki, Toga, Spinner, Jin, Compress, even Giran. He doesn't keep contacts. Doesn't work when he's ditching phones all the time. He's got his noggin. That's good enough.

The text is one word:

hi.

Dabi's squinting at the text when another buzzes through. 

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:48pm sorry, this is bar girl

→ dabi ; 11:46pm thought u were never gonna txt me ur girlie nuri is here where r u

There's no way.

Your phone buzzes three times from its far place where it sits face down on the counter — you just walked away from it, hellbent on distracting yourself while you waited out the potential reply. You go rigid in your kitchen. 

Did he seriously text you back immediately?

You purse your lips, then slink towards the phone. It buzzes again.

→ dabi ; 11:47pm c'mon don't leave me hangin pretty

Your eyes are wide as you stare at the string of replies. He has read receipts turned on like the psychopath he is. 

You lean back against the counter, chewing your cuticle as you let out a ragged sigh. Nuri is with him? Or... No, they said they were going to that club you hate. 

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:4pam oh, are they at the bar?‎

Dabi's fingers move fast.

→ dabi ; 11:49pm nah in downtown club tropical or whatever the fuck it's called

You snort a little.

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:49pm i hate that place. their drinks suck.

Dabi has started making his way back to their hideout — back to the shit box apartments they're renting above Kurogiri's bar. He's slow, idly texting as he weaves through the crowds of nightlife in Kamino Ward. 

→ dabi ; 11:50pm a girl after my own heart where r u ur dodging my question u on a date or smthng????

He's insistent, you'll give him that. You cross your legs as you lean back against the laminate counter and chew the inside of your lip.

He's typing. It starts, then stops, then starts again. 

When you start typing, the bubble disappears. 

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:50pm nah, got a huge paper to finish uni student, remember? sorry to disappoint 

→ dabi ; 11:51pm ur missin out giran got bottle service  him and nuri looked cozy

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:51pm not shocked she thinks she can fix him

→ dabi ; 11:51pm ooooo love when that happens poor girl

Typing... 

Typing...

→ dabi ; 11:51pm u think u can fix me? :p

The emoji makes your face break into a smile — it's so... not what you expected. 

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:52pm nah i'm not stupid

→ dabi ; 11:52pm just busy.... really lame of u tbh coulda been fun

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:52pm wasting cash on mid drinks is the opposite of fun

→ dabi ; 11:52pm i meant seeing me

Oh, what the fuck.

Why does that text make your face feel hot? Why does that text make you feel like you're not texting the League of Villain's #1 Arsonist, but some cute boy from class? He's not a cute boy from class. He's a danger to society. 

You're glad you don't have the opportunity to reply. Your phone is buzzing in your hands, the haptic feedback lighting the neurons in your brain on fire.  

→ dabi ; 11:53pm gtg phone is gonna die have fun with ur paper u loser hope u get a good grade or whatever i'll txt u later

You shouldn't have texted Dabi.

But you did.