#not huge changes to the point he'd be unrecognizable at any point but yeaH

[saevus-brutalis]

you see that guy with a scarred face and you're not gonna start sweatin’?

vincent elijah vahn-reyes | mercenary, ex-military, sniper

do NOT repost, copy, use or claim as your own. thanks

dob; 12th November 2019, Night City [58] nationality; American-Swiss affiliation; Afterlife underground, Lazarus CO. family; Alexis Sylvia Vigo [mother], Keana Emily Reyes [half-sister], Damien 'Skiff' Vigo [uncle], Philip Norman Reyes [father], Chalice Stephens-Reyes [step-mother]

body stats; 198cm / 162kg hair; black (natural), greying eyes; pale, milky-pink; blacked out sclera, magenta glow identifying cyberware; custom-made Monarch PX44 manufactured by Nocturne Cybernetics, heavy-lift military-issued cybernetic spine implant manufactured by Militech other identifying features; large burn scar on the back, chemical burns on the right leg and left shoulder, neck scars

lesser known facts; — suffers from chronic back pain due to faulty cyberspine. it is impossible to swap out the faulty cyberware without causing significant damage to both nerves and muscles, so in order to function somewhat normally he's forced to inject himself with painkillers directly into his back and rely on pain-numbing drugs. — Vincent Vahn is not his real name but an alias. the name belongs to a dead man, whose name he saw etched onto a stone niche in North Oak Columbarium. however Elijah is his actual middle name given to him by his mother. — surprisingly good with small kids, not so much with teenagers — doesn't like showing off his burnt back, especially to strangers, people he's not close with. — his taste in men includes mainly nomads and rockerboys — dog tags around his neck belong to him and his deceased friend from the army - Michael Joshua Bryant — certified big boy senior citizen

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝕊𝕋ℝ𝔸ℕ𝔾𝔼ℝ𝕊 (Crumb)

You were once his colorful spark of adventurous dreams while he was stuck in a monotone nightmare of what had been chosen for him. And now, years after he'd escaped and quietly disappeared, he's back- and you're nothing but strangers.

Tags/Warnings: non-idol AU, Angst, Friends to strangers to lovers, smut, I know you've all been waiting for what mom might make out of the groceries aka topless calvin Klein kook, mentions of death, mentions of questionable past time activities (smoking, drinking, drugs but no consumption of such, sex, gambling), more TBA

Length: ???

-> this is going to be a One-shot. Additional content can be added if requested.

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"Where's puffball?" Jungkook asks, carefully walking into your apartment, visibly tense as he follows you slowly, rather taking a look around.

"Where he always sleeps." You simply say, and Jungkook needs to think for a second, before his face turns towards the corner near your entrance door, where a small coffee table stands instead of the tiny red dog bed he was expecting-

A picture of the tiny off-white poodle mix on top of it, his baby blue collar in front with a candle unlit.

"Oh.." jungkook can't find the words, his throat suddenly clogging up. Everyone always said how ugly that dog was, and yeah, objectively he was- with the overbite and tongue hanging out, he truly wouldn't have ever won a beauty contest. But you loved the little guy- and Jungkook loved him too, despite his constant yapping.

"Died of kidney failure last year December." You shrug as you search through a bookshelf, opening a folder with documents. "Wasn't surprising."

"I'm.." he starts, before he bites his lip, scratches the back of his neck. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" You chuckle, trying to just brush it off. Truth be told it still hurts to talk about it- but you don't want him to know that. "You didn't kill the guy." You joke, taking out some paperwork as you sit down on the couch.

"No, It's not that-" he says, eyes focused on the grey-ish pull out couch in front of him.

The same you both made love on, years ago, the same he held you on through the entire night before you went for a round two in the morning, the same he decided that he needs change on.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there. To.. comfort you." He offers.

Again, only a shrug of your shoulders. You don't acknowledge him at all, it feels like.

And he can't even blame you.

"Here- that should be all the papers for the car." You instead change the topic, holding out the documents- which he takes, though he sits down next to you as well, with a respectful distance. It feels off, awkward, like punishment for his cowardly behavior years prior.

It's like you switched sides- your tattoos covered up by simple black leggings, blank white top covering your upper half. The only hint of color is in the split ends of your hair- though even that's faded to the point of almost being unrecognizable.

And now he's the rebel of the two of you, going against the norms with his tattoos and piercings and hair and everything- something he'd always admired you for, back then.

But the world had finally broken you down it looks like- society having forced you into submission after all, despite your back then huge ambitions.

"Are you sure I can just.. have it?" He asks again, just to make sure you really don't want the car any longer- and you nod.

"I had a seizure three months back, so I'm not allowed to drive anyway." You say nonchalantly, leaning back against the couch, arms and legs crossed to almost fend him off it seems like. "Not that I'd want to ever again." You confess.

"..down the old EDM club." He suddenly says, looking at you. "Near the main road. That was you?" He asks, and you nod, though your furrowed brows and challenging eyes show clearly that you're asking for why he knows about it. "I.. kept up with the news and.." he sighs, running his fingers through his hair, the other hand careful not to clutch the papers too hard. "I wanted to know you're alright."

"Cool." You simply say, nothing else.

He looks at you, waiting for something more you might day- but you don't. You just look at him with a strange mixture of emotions he can't really distinguish. It's all washed together into one muddy mess- and he knows it's his fault that you're so on guard.

He's a stranger to you now, after all.

"Car was never fixed up, by the way." You say, moving to get up. "So you've got some work to do or money to spend." You say, and Jungkook gets up as well, walking after you towards the door that you open for him.

He slips back into his Chelsea boots, before he looks back at you, mouth opening before you can even deny him. "I know you're pissed at me." He says. "And you got every right to."

"Great we talked about that- now leave." You say, pointing out the door.

"I'm not gonna say this to get my dick wet." He tells you with a serious face, as you stare him down, daring him foe his next words. "But I need you to know that you.. what happened between us, that was fucking special." He says. "So much so that I knew I had to change in order to.. become someone." He says.

"Someone what?" You ask, crossing your arms defensively- because his words are getting to you.

"Just someone." He explains. "I wasn't anyone at all back then. Just.. a puppet who did what I for told. I had no personality. No ambitions, nothing- I only had you." He words out, and your gaze softens. "And I couldn't stay with you because.. I would've probably hurt you at some point."

"You still did." You say, and he nods, tongue playing with his piercing.

"I did." He agrees. "But not as bad as I would've if I'd stayed." He tries to justify. "I- listen, can't we.. start over?" He wonders, looking at you with hopeful eyes. "We're basically strangers by now anyway, aren't we?"

You are.

The jungkook in front of you is nothing like the blank canvas he used to be. He's vibrant despite the lack of color he's actually wearing, full of emotions, opinions and views. This jungkook is filled to the brim with things-

While you've become empty instead now, taking his place.

"I don't think I'm the person you remember." You deny. "We don't fit- in fact, we never did." You shake your head.

"Five years might change a lot-" he says, round black orbs watching you intently. "-but the won't change what's in here." He says, offers, hopes, inked finger gently pointing to where your heart sits underneath the shirt and your skin and bones.

And much to your demise, he seems to be right.

Because you're sure he can probably feel it beating faster from this faint touch alone.