finally it posts

march update
  • Ignis: Wait, can't you hear that?
  • Gladio: Hear what?
  • Ignis: Noct's voice! I heard it, clear as day.
  • Noctis, one room over: fuck what the fuck what the fFUCK WWHAT THe FUCK WHAT thE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT the FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

a DAMN GOOD IGNIS MOMENT.



But really, the more I watch it the more I realise it’s not only a fantastic Ignis moment, it’s a fantastic Chocobros moment in general? REALLY LONG POST AHEAD + UNFINISHED GAMEPLAY WRITING BUT THIS SCENE

Lemme start with Ignis because duh (if you’ve seen anything out of me the past two weeks, it’s probably been Ignis related). He’s been pretty passive about losing his eyesight up until this point. He calls it a minor sacrifice in the grand scheme of things. When Noctis and Gladio fight on the train, Ignis says nothing, even though part of the argument is his own injury. He only tries to stop Gladio by saying his name; Prompto is the one who tries to break it up (more in a moment. anyway not that Ignis really could break it up rn but you know) He’s been optimistic enough about it, though. “I’ll manage somehow” when you invite him into the mines. “This is considerably harder than I expected” he says about fighting. But sometimes you hear the boys say something and Iggy just sort of sighs. They’re dancing around him, and his injury, and the argument, and this scene is where it culminates.

The first time he actually says that it isn’t okay is because of their friendship hitting a low point, rather than his actual injury. But he is so, so aware of that injury and how it has the potential to drag them down. He still says “I would remain with you all. Til the very end” because these are his brothers and he damn well plans to, but that said.

This is the first time we hear Ignis raise his voice, I think. Not including battle cries and the like. Which is saying a lot because this boy is very, very calculated on his emotions. (ie later on when Prompto falls off the train, you hear the very audible difference in Noctis’s voice vs Iggy’s) He’s Crownsguard, Noctis is his king, he will do anything for him, and believes he has no reason to complain even if he has gone blind. But that’s a Big Thing. His yelling in this scene exactly “I know full well!” is finally, finally his frustration coming out and it’s triggered because of their bickering (or anti-bickering, since they aren’t really… speaking much).

He says he is willing to bow out if he starts to slow them down, which imo is like asking him to suffer a physical injury all over again (he is Crownsguard, Noctis is his king, he will do anything for him) but he still will DO IT because he won’t be a burden.

He goes on to give Noctis what, I think, is a much needed confidence boost. “A king pushes onward always, accepting the consequences and never looking back” and in the opening sentences for the next chapter, it literally uses those same words to describe Noct’s reaction to Ardyn’s trick: never looking back. (Also never looking back is exactly what Ignis is doing right now, which is why the choice to focus the camera so much on his scars in that moment is AMAZING.)

He continues with that to tell Gladio that Noct will be king and he will rule, but “only once he’s ready”. And this is SO important. Gladio’s interaction with Noct is painful at least and rage inducing at worst (more below) but not only does Noct need to hear this, Gladio does, too. They can push Noctis into that throne but he will never be able to lead until he is ready, and that involves coming to terms with some very, very heavy stuff that’s been happening. Everybody doesn’t handle grief the same way and they’re all having a hard go at it in very different ways thanks to the events of late.

So all of this makes this the DAMN GOOD IGNIS MOMENT. But it’s also really good for the rest of them, both in mentioned ways and others, but since I’m apparently waxing poetic 

Prompto, Gladio, and Noctis under the cut ↓ (note: 150% zoom for easier reading)

Keep reading

ffxv au where king regis maxed out his hand-holding ascension branch, luna didn’t actively let go of his hand, and she escapes tenebrae with noctis to grow up in lucis as a war refugee:

  • just…everyone helping lunafreya through her trauma at watching her kingdom and family fall instead of her having to grow up alone in a hostile environment
  • also like, luna being childhood friends with all the bros
  • this got long so the rest of it’s under the cut

Keep reading

DWARFSTUCK ✨💫🌟
Im doing it! I’m posting it!
I have had this stupid au tucked away for months and only me and @thegayest-miningship knew about it but for god’s sake I’m posting it now

——–
Lister -
liverpudlianSmegger
Classpect - Bard of Time
Land of Fog and Docks
Sprite - McCartneysprite (before entering Sburb)
Hollysprite (After entering) (McCartney the robot fish and female Holly)

Rimmer -
ionianAristocrat
Classpect - Prince of Space
Land of Glass and Frogs
Sprite - Rimmersprite (His own ashes and Talkie the toaster)

Kryten -
hygienicHominoid
Classpect - Maid of Mind
Land of Dust and Cyclones
Sprite - Kochanskisprite (Kochanski and a skutter)

Cat -
banausicFeline
Classpect - Thief of Breath
Land of Reefs and Glitter
Sprite - Polymorphsprite (Before entering Sburb)
Ingridsprite (After entering) (A Polymorph and Inflatable Ingrid)

——
I have the bare bones of the plot in my head, but I feel like I’ll be shouting into the void here, since we’re talking about a crossover of two fandoms with complete different demographics.
But if anyone is interested, please feel free to tell me soxxx (I need validation I’m desperateeee)

FAN THEORY I JUST GOT

FFXV SPOILERS

What if ARDYN was the one to help Prompto escape when he was little.

Or Let him escape. Let him go, got him out of there.

What if it was Ardyn who took Vesteal’s child and let him escape. Freed him, sent him to Lucis with the ILLUSION of a family.

What if it was ARDYN that took Pryna and hurt the poor pupper, and placed the dog in front of Prompto’s home

What if

dude What I F


Think about how much Ardyn as already ‘helped’ push things along. He’s always helping to set things on the track he needs them on why not set up someone to befriend the prince, someone from Nifleheim. Someone he could use later on down the line to help him gain what eh was looking for.

IDEK if this all makes sense, but it popped into my head, and i love it.

So this happened and there’s no way out of this au I have thrown myself into. I can’t start on this until I’m done with my current fic so I’m going to just dump some of my ideas here cause they can’t be contained. I blame this entirely on the four horsemen of the nyxnoct fandom @jasperraven, @goddamnminyard, @ckyking and @aithilin  because you guys give me too many feels with your stories.

Without further to do, the NyxNoct Harry Potter au no one asked for but Imma give people anyways.

  • Now here me out, Noctis is a total hufflepuff. Cause Noctis literally does not care where you come from. As long as you treat people right and try you’re best to do the right thing he won’t have a problem with you. He would befriend anyone from any house.
  • Noctis is fucking loyal too. He will die for you literally and figuratively.
  • He might be a little impatient and can be a little lazy but he likes to think he left behind those traits in his teenage rebellion years
  • Though, if he’s honest, he thinks there might be a bit of his father’s Gryffindor genes in him. What other reason would there be for his choice of occupation being an auror. Gladio not being factored in.
  • Prompto is a Slytherin because, honestly if he wants something he will get it. Leaving his pureblood family because he doesn’t want to follow the dark lord? Done. Surviving on his own with minimal help for years? Done. Losing a bunch of weight just cause he wants to befriend Noctis? Done. (which honestly was wholly unnecessary. noctis would have hung out with him regardless) Becoming a magizoologist and saving the black chocobo’s from exinction? You damn right he’ll get that done too.
  • Ignis is unsurprisingly a Ravenclaw. He soaks off knowledge like a sponge and is especially fond of passing it on to others, namely noctis. The man has a sharp tongue to boot. Like he can be an absolute savage sometimes.
  • “I came across a curious sight the other day, Noctis.” “What was it?” “I was doing some extra research for muggle studies and I came across a picture what I thought was you’re room.” “What?” “Turns out it was just a picture of what muggles call a land fill.” “….Wow rude.”
  • It’s really no surprise he gets a position in the Department of Mysteries. Gladio, also no surprise, is a Gryffindor. He fits the description to a T. His gryffindor-ish personality tends to get him in more trouble than it’s worth, hence the many scars, but he always manages to make it out somehow.
  • Gladio comes from a long line of aurors and he wasn’t going to be the odd one out.
  • Nyx is a Gryffindor though the hat had a hard time pinning Nyx down. He had many qualities all the houses except Ravenclaw. Nyx almost became a hatstall.
  • He’s a little disappointed that Libertus ended up in a different house but honestly he cared as little for all the house rivalry stuff. It wouldn’t stop him from still hanging out with his friends.
  • Nyx and Libertus befriends a Slytherin named Crowe during their first year at howgwarts.
  • The three of them get along like a house on fire leaving behind a trail of mayhem.
  •  Everyone is pretty surprised Hogwarts made it through with minimal damage and with only four professors resigning from their positions.
  • The three of them become aurors and due to their exceptional skill end up in the Kingsglaive.
  •  The Kingsglaive is special task force and is comprised of only the best. They take on only the most dangerous of missions. It’s a testament to ones skill to make the cut.
  • Regis is the Minister of Magic and has held on to the position since even before Noctis was born.
  • Being the song of the Minister of Magic is the big reason why Noctis tends to take on the most difficult tasks for himself with a fierce sort of determination. He doesn’t want anyone to say he only got to where he was because of his father’s position. It’s this hard work that gives Noctis an opportunity as well to join the kingsglaive, two years after him becoming an auror.
  • The Kingsglaive adore him. With the exception of Luche but honestly, very few care about his opinions on things like this
  • His nickname amongst the members is ‘our baby glaive’ much to his chagrin.
  • He loves them all just as much though. They’re family. For Hearth and Home indeed.
  • He’s closest to, of course, our trio of trouble makers.
  • If you asked Noctis or Nyx how they ended up together they wouldn’t bee able to tell you. The transition was so seamless that they just kind of woke up in each others arms one day and decided this was the best place for both of them
  • That’s not to say there wasn’t any problems though. The was a prophecy for one thing. Yes, the good old prophecy cliche to ruin all things.
  • There’s a dark lord, who has been terrorizing the people for the better part of two millennia too
  • Noctis, of course, is the main subject line for this life ruining prophecy. Apparently, according to some mystical force in the universe, named the Astrals, Noctis is destined to take down Ardyn. A dark lord that seems to be almost un-killable at this point. Not without lack of trying.
  • He’s suppose to die as a result too but his friends and family are having none of it. Not even a bit. The Astrals can take their prophecy and shove it up their own asses.
  • There are others who have tried to defy the prophecies passed down by the Astrals but none have succeeded. So that’s why many, at this point take, the Astrals words as law.
  • Not this generation though. The people in the past didn’t have the kind of people Noctis did behind them. The people who failed didn’t have Nyx fucking Ulric behind him.
  • The hell he was going to sit back and just let Noctis die.
  • Ardyn and the Astrals won’t know what hit them

I have so many more headcannons but just can’t even with this au right now. I’m just going to go and finish my other story now.

12.Tell Your Friends - (BTS Mafia AU)

One - Two - Three - Four - Five -  Six - Seven -  Eight  - Nine - Ten -  Eleven

Twelve:

“Avoid the crowd,

do your own thinking independently

 be the chess player not the chess piece”

You had never been foreboding when it came to Christmas, it wasn’t a time associated with feelings like that anyway, but the snow was less magical that year, it had always been cold, and throughout November it was a nuisance but December added the promise of something better.

It did not fall through that year though.

The lights strung about at the tops of buildings and illuminated in closed shop windows, flashing reindeer on roof’s and evergreens swatted with tinsel and untangled Christmas lights. There was never such fuss, about anything, and there never would be again.

Until next Christmas of course/

Christmas carols were allowed now, at least partly, not excessive to the once bitter before, more so nostalgic now and everything was stained with red, adorned with gold and swirled in green to add to that extra Christmas commercialism that brought new meaning to money. 

 Full-fat milk stung your glove less hands and you switched it between the two while you strolled past the newspaper stand, flushed in flashing red and white light, between tabloid headlines, and folded broadsheets. Softer foot steps were audible and you concluded Hoseok had worn more comfortable shoes that day. It was dark and you waited for him just outside the door of the shop, holding it open with your foot.

“Halloween’s long gone you know” you commented.

His hair was orange and you liked it.

“Circus hasn’t been in town for a while too, how long you been left behind for?”

You shouldn’t have liked it.

The pack of tobacco was then shoved between his teeth as he fidgeting around in his big pockets and counted his change with the gaze of a cheap accountant and placed it, along with his receipt in the next homeless person’s cup.

There was no pettiness, you found, in watching him count out change and though now always exact, you concluded it was always about the same. 

“It’s always exactly the same” you commented carefully, though there really was no need because Jung Hoseok had never exactly had any reason to as much as be irritated with you, because well, neither of you had done nothing to each other.

There was, in your logic, no reason to be anything but civil with each other.

But it’d reached past civil when you’d come to expect him to be waiting by the bus stop each morning.

“What is?” he’d wiped the saliva he’d gotten on the packet on his coat sleeves before placing it in his back pocket.

“The amount you give someone” you explained. Glancing back at the rough looking man and his dog, stick thin and nails scraping the concrete.

“It’s how much cigs cost” he shrugged, pulling the cap he wore further over his hair, orange bangs parted in the middle, his forehead peaking through, same colour as the amber light the cars sped through and braked on ice to no avail, skids loud, higher than the chances of accidents.

“But the tobacco?” sceptically raising an eyebrow, almost smiling. 

“I said I was trying to stop smoking cigarettes. These technically won’t be cigarettes” he assured you, waving his hands around for emphasis, he was a lawyer in court, convincingly telling fabrications from stretched out theories and truths; entertaining, he deserved his own crime show, about crooked cops and temperamental prostitutes, and second guessing yourself, you decided Hoseok would have made an interesting detective.

“Why?” it was rare Hoseok did not have a cigarette or a pill bottle near his mouth and his jittery fingers were a sign of this. It was all you could do but stand and stare at them curl up, flinch out and shrivel up again as he eventually shoved them into his coat pockets, pink from the cold, blue from the withdrawal. 

“My expertise at making rollies may be far less compared to yours but drugs aren’t exactly my forte” 

He’d said it like he was serious.

You’d paused, your face visibly dropping as you stared at his own in a sort of trance, the irony painful, the confusion adamant. You blinked twice before you averted your eyes to the floor and leaned back against the pole, waiting for the green flashing man to appear, a sign of safety.

It was then you realised that he was serious.

You glanced up once, feeling it an obligation to speak, what for you did not know, you had no words or opinion, Christ, you didn’t even know what to say to him so instead you just glanced up every now and then, the awkward air stifling and dispersing, your quick glances were with held breaths.

He did not look back.

Instead, he spoke as you crossed the street, quick and snappy, little humour from before gone. 

“No clubbing tonight princess”

Your eyes shot up to his, long since lowered as you swallowed all the questions you had. Scepticism buried, it was something you had learnt to do quickly, because it was rare you actually got answers.

You were almost relieved.

“Min Suga wants to talk to you”

He said it in a teasing tone.

And you were correct with your withhold of relief.

“Be ready by nine. I’ll pick you up like usual”

His hands were still in his pockets and you watched him shrug his coat higher with just his shoulders to assure they stayed in them.

But you knew perfectly well.

“Boss’s orders are always final”

It wasn’t a playful joke.

He’d stared straight ahead of you both, you would have known if his eyes had wavered to anywhere else, because you were staring at him the whole time. The chilled milk, long since having numbed your hands, had allowed the feeling to travel up to you cheeks, flushed like Hoseok’s.

No, it was much more sinister than usual.

“And we all know how good you are at following orders”

It was a bitter tune, melodic but still it had stung worse than anything Min Yoongi could ever say to you and it was a reason you’d come to particularly resent yourself for having.

“Not mine though.”

It was because Jung Hoseok smiled at you everyday at least once. It was because Jung Hoseok was scarily content, or so it seemed, to be in your company, and in all honesty, you hadn’t had that in a long time, especially not in your recent situation. So it mattered, it mattered so much it hurt.

He’d laughed and it was one of the first times you’d disliked it.

“Only Suga get’s that privilege”

It mattered because he was the only one who actually made you feel like you mattered.

You were argumentative as hell when it came to this and in the end, lying to your best friend wasn’t something you could handle all that lightly. Neither was the guilt. Of accepting money. Of working for someone so rotten you were sure his own toxicity had brought out yours. Of the night it all started. But most of all, your one most valid reason boiled down to something of childlike simplicity.

Because someone was going to shoot you dead one day.

And in the end, he’d be the only one who would care enough to stop it.

So it mattered.

But you were beginning to realise that getting into that black SUV was translating more to treason than misunderstanding, and word must have travelled quickly, because Hoseok had left you off a block over, getting into his car, his real one a cheap ‘99 diesel engine that made a horrific noise when the ignition was turned on.

There was the gradual assumption of whether he was the only one that mattered to you in all of this as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was Versaille but better, no hall of mirrors comparable, the pastel blue was deafening and the aristocratic detailing of the wallpaper gave you the strangest urge to touch it. Light should have flooded in through two bay windows, but the slowly falling snow outside, gave no path of entry to moonlight and storm clouds hid the only source of light outside. Instead, high chandeliers, two, most likely real and worth more than your apartment spread fluorescent light across the white marble with the same arrogance of it’s owner. No dust swirled in the clear rays and you put your hand forward to touch the place your shadow had disappeared.

Your hand, meeting nothing was basked in crystal rays of domestic invention, gold, like every ring on his fingers, truly a post-Bastille nightmare, every room you’d seen was lit, every room you’d seen was empty.

It was warm, unlike the shadow of the wall with the stolen Van Gogh presented with prestige above a golden fireplace, engraved with Renaissance style carvings, the shadow of the windows ridges made a ladder on the floor.

Min Yoongi lived in suburban Seoul, and with no regard for space, he’d built his empire on one of the biggest lots in the area. 

Hoseok had driven you right up to the door, made sure you got inside and without a word, left.

There were no decorations.

Anywhere.

Not a wreath or tree, not that it bothered you, he didn’t seem like the type to do Christmas like most did, if he did it all, though the snow was even more bitter without the fairy lights around and tacky window displays.

It’s impeccable state made up for everything.

No bookshelf left unorganised, everyone, alphabetised, mahogany wood showing no signs of dust, or wear for that matter, to which you assumed had not been because of the owner’s avid reading of them. No scuff marks from the chairs or scratching on the wood, marble floors were almost as shiny as the windows. Though, you had only seen a long hallway and then the room you waited in, you had assumed the rest of his house had been like this.

If it was, in fact his house.

You tried to tell yourself it was worry, that was the reason you were ready to vomit. You tried to tell yourself it was the guilt that morning as you handed Solji your half of the rent, she had suspected nothing, like always. You tried to tell yourself it was the fact that you were standing in the drawing room of one of the most wealthy drug lord of Asia and it still hadn’t hit you yet.

That he was that big.

That he was that important.

That he did indeed have every right to be as arrogant and cocky as he wanted because he knew full well his position, and gladly wore the title with little care or worry. Or so was that the image he portrayed.

But as you awkwardly decided to sit down on the gold trimmed plush chairs, so stiff you concluded it wasn’t well used, though none of the house looked like it was, your insides, eating itself with it’s own acid, were so bipolar for the one reason you refused to admit.

You couldn’t bounce back from this.

Once trust was broken, it would never be mended fully, and he’d said it himself.

He’d given you the option.

He would have put a bullet in your skull if you had decided not to comply.

But it looked like he was ready to do it anyway.

And along with your jump to the conclusion that people did not, especially people of his nature and area of employment, invite strangers, let alone strangers they mistrusted and meticulously disliked, into their very big and easily found home, you came to another very hazy conclusion.

His voice, was ocean trench deep and still smooth, unlike his superiors rough tone, though it was not as soft spoken, polar opposites, but so alike, each of them brought itchy patches to form on your skin and goosebumps to tingle the hairs at the back of your neck.

You’d visibly tensed, so shocked, so out of it, that he’d watched you for a full minutes from the door way before actually speaking.

“I know you’re not a secretary, since we don’t have a secretary, but you got any idea where the boss is?”

His hair was blonde, golden as strung over his forehead in messy layers, his tone was casual, unkempt, like his appearance. What struck you the most was the bitter fruit he’d twirled in his fingers from the moment you’d entered the room, and it was only slightly brighter than the dried brown on his boots, not muck, it had snowed, there was no muck.

After a second consolation of what it was, you decided it must have been muck.

You’d shaken your head.

It certainly was not the other unspeakable substance that you so vividly remembered laying in, warm, unlike the weather, strangler thin, unlike the coat you wore.

He flung himself onto an expensive brown chair, tattered clothing a bad match, but his languid actions had matched his face and in the end, it all seemed too fitting. 

He’d bitten into it before speaking to you. Half of it gone, red stain smudging his cheek as he pulled it away from his teeth. Like a wolf.

“Psychic’s aren’t liars you know?” 

It was not a question, though it was posed as one.

You’d turned your head as he continued.

“You ever been to one?”

You’d shaken your head again.

“Cat got your tongue?” he’d grinned, swallowing the remains of his mid night snack and wiping his stained lips with his sleeve. The khaki stained like white would, badly, though there were a million other comparisons on both the jacket and jeans.

“Or did someone just cut it out?”

Your eyes widened as he suddenly propped himself up, bypassing your chair with enough speed to bring a rush of air from his baggy clothes and positioned himself in front of a bookshelf.

He had not browsed a single spine and instead twisted around again.

Not because you looked, because you were already staring.

“Cause that procedure is quite tricky. You need a steady hand for that, not to mention a knife”

He was the type of person you wanted a million sets of eyes on at once.

“But I already have one of those”

Quicker than lightning and louder than thunder, there was no introduction.

There was no need.

“The steady hand thing doesn’t matter most days”

He was enough of a performer to allow any inessential preface, or prologue. He didn’t look at any of those books, because he was enough of one himself.

“But when it does, it makes all the more difference”

His eyes were wide, hazel contacts staring down at you through a messy fringe of beach waves, blonde and brooding, his face was soft and his voice was rough, and in the end, so was everything else. Like an only child, desperate for a sibling, he begged with no words, and spoke ones so irksome it was hard to believe they’d been said from lips like his.

“So tell me, little miss no tongue, you got a muscle in your mouth or a stick up your ass cause I’m trying to have a conversation”

He was, all in all, a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“Neither” you managed to choke out.

He’d smiled.

A grin more like.

It was as innocent as his eyes.

“You just” he frowned as you began again, hurt, though you’d said nothing yet.

“Startled me. I scare easily” your answer was careful, and you kept your gaze on his eyes, as had he, though it was a struggle not to let them falter to the floor. To look at his shoes.

“Aw well that’s cute”

He laughed once.

“You’re cute”

He laughed again.

“But that’s beside the point, you know where the boss is”

And yet there was still no introduction, form of greeting, or any sort of implication that he didn’t realise you didn’t know each other. Or he didn’t care. But you assumed those type of people, Min Yoongi to be example weren’t the type to talk so casually with someone they did not know.

Unless of course he wanted something from you.

He’d already asked you.

Yet he’d done it again.

“No, sorry” you gave your strange condolences with as much masked confusion as you could.

“Then what are you doing in his office?” he asked in a voice that portrayed mockery, as if he was unaware how out of place you were. How you couldn’t possibly know one, where Min Yoongi was, and two, where you were. 

“This is his office?” you’d asked without thought.

“Yeah, well waiting room. For a secretary you’re pretty bad at your job you know that?” 

He was quick to recover and spoke again in one breath.

“Oh wait, I forgot, you’re not a secretary, we sort of need one though, don’t you think, you looking for a job? I can put a good word in for y-”

It cut through his excited ramble like cool steel, sharp and unforgiving, he strode in from a door near the side that had opened without alerting the two of you.

His house, though made to look old, was newer than toddlers taking their first steps and was made on a mixture stealth and secrecy and extreme arrogant flaunting of wealth.

“She already has a job, Taehyung”

You’d reacted slower than you thought you would at first. Eyes, having darted to the now dark haired Min Yoongi, slowly easing back to the ones of a smug Kim Taehyung, bobbing back and forth on his heels, eyes having remained trained on you.

“And so do you, I suggest you get back to it”

Min Yoongi paused curving his footwork to stand a foot away from the taller man who simply smiled, big and rectangular, cheerful.

“Already finished for the day boss” he concluded, friendly to his obvious superior, the elder took little notice of this.

And yet you still stared.

You knew better, but god, you eyed him like he was something from a freak show. The realist bogeyman staring down at you with huge brown eyes and a pleasant looking smirk kissing his chin by how low it went, his eyes crinkled at the sides from smiling and you were forced to admit that it was not muck that caked the soles of his boots. 

“Then I suppose paperwork will suit the unfilled hours and you can leave at closing time?”

His confused face was something of childlike nature and he cocked his head to the side. And then he jutted back up again in the most violent motion you’ve ever seen someone come to a realisation and his once animated self was now struggling to hold back a laugh.

“Oh yeah, closing time”

He glanced at you for a second, as if you didn’t understand this big inside joke, which you didn’t, not all that much anyway. But you weren’t that clueless.

He’d left, grinning, at you not Yoongi and you’d smiled yourself, because he’d paused at the door for a few seconds expectant and slid out through the barely open white wood with little friction.

There was no time for dwelling on your most recent introduction to someone you’d heard too much about and Min Yoongi wasn’t about to set aside anyway for you.

“I assume you’re disappointed” he stated flatly.

“About what?” you dragged your eyes up to meet his and regretted it from the get go. He stared down at you, like he always did.

“Well for one there won’t be any free booze, we all know how much you liked that” 

Today was his day for blatant insults and he behaved, all in all, like a jealous bastard but for a reason unrelated to your own personal affairs, because it was very much professional. 

“And second your chances of finding a traitor in the building is minimal” It was a warning you didn’t need.

His eyes narrowed into slits even though he hadn’t scowled and his mouth remained straight, narrow lips pressed together. He was teasing you but it wasn’t innocent because he meant every word he said.

“I see you met Taehyung?” Small talk was nonexistent and you weren’t sure why he’d taken on this new trait.

“He gave you a nice scare didn’t he?”

You didn’t answer.

“He’s good at that” 

He gave a ghost of a smile.

“Hoseok said you wanted to talk to me” you blurted out under his expectant gaze.

His quick tongue was easily persuaded to form a sentence which brought up the reason you were here.

“Hoseok also said you were a kid, who wouldn’t swat a fly with her own hands”

You weren’t sure why you actually bothered trying. But you did.

“I got into that car okay?” your voice was bordering desperate and you hadn’t realised how broken it sounded till your own words rang in your ears.

“You want me to admit  it right? That I got a five minutes ride from a -” quick and slightly rushed, your voice wasn’t your own as you stumbled to somehow explain yourself. Pathetic, but if you were being honest, anybody would look pathetic in front of him.

Designer suits and combed hair, three colours darker than his eyes, which seemed impossible with how dark they looked most days. Gold snaked around fingers and wrist with the nonchalance of a cheap jewellery, expendable. Though they were expendable to him. They’d break and he’d buy more. He didn’t care, because money burned like fire wood in his life, and he only cared about one thing.

“I can do a lot in five minutes sweetheart, I wouldn’t assume someone else can’t”

The money was just a part of it.

“Even if that person is a low life cheating arrogant little snake”

The bigger picture was much more sinister than an expensive house and the freedom earning big gave you, to buy anything you wanted, except what Min Yoongi really wanted.

“My point isn’t with the fact that I can’t trust you now. I could never trust you, and don’t take it personal kid, I don’t trust anyone. But now, you’re tipping the balance and my patience is short, I know it’s hard to believe”

Sudden petnames made you inwardly flinch.

“But you said it yourself”

He was right.

“You don’t know shit”

But you were beginning to understand.

The reason he wanted Jeon Jungkook’s head at his feet.

The reason he was so adamant on controlling everything you did.

The reason you were kept alive.

“And I told you I could do a lot in five minutes right?”

A powerplay of black and white pieces, Min Yoongi placed you on a chess board like a pawn and wasn’t backing down until he won the game.

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One - Two - Three - Four - Five -  Six - Seven -  Eight  - Nine - Ten -  Eleven

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-Masterlist-

-Asks-

(I doubt anybody actually cares about this story anymore since it’s been months since I’ve posted but here you go)

aaa hello here’s a sketch of fusion