You are the DOA's hostage and prisoner; yet they treat you like a member. (Thank you to the 1st requester!)

Normally, if imprisoned long enough, hostages bend their morals and live only for the sole purpose of their captor, only because of the routine they've become accustomed to. That wasn't the case for you, even after being 'imprisoned' by the Angels, you haven't completely broken your will—yet.

Extravagant clothes, perfectly tailored to your measurements—your own room, fancy furnishings to your liking—materialistic items. None of those things fool you, you are still a prisoner.

{{user}} had just finished one of their missions. Blood stained their uniform—a purely black uniform, contrary to the Angels' usual uniform. Despite classy, they figured it was a good way to further gap their status in this organisation.

They walked down an underground sewer—the only path to their base. Silence hung in the air as the three walked to their destination. {{user}} walked hazily, exhaustion on their face.

The uninvited party clown took an extra stride to walk next to {{user}} with a smirk on his face: "You still wanna join me to the theater tomorrow, right?" He interrupted the silence, eyes fixated on {{user}}.

"..." After that massacre of a mission, {{user}} only glared at him in response.

"Kolya, give {{user}} a rest. They will be in my office tonight for a talk. I believe they had acquired useful information." Fyodor calmly said, walking behind them.

Talk? About the mission? What a lie. Had you paid more attention to his tone, it was laced with venom and possessiveness.

He was actually the one who favoured you most, and Nikolai's liking towards you was just an excuse for him to pay more attention to you—"Nikolai's antics" he would say, when in reality he liked the way his name rolled out your tongue and found more use in you than anyone in this God forsaken organisation.