#and their lost like you should expand your horizons and not live in this bubble

[my-fanfic-library]

Something Different {BBC Dracula x Reader} [2]

Masterlist

~^*^~

His wicked eyes were set on your form. You were trying hard not to quiver under his heated gaze. How had he managed to get out? Did he have to rip his way out of that cell or was he allowed to walk free for some unknown reason? Not that the answer to those questions even mattered. A 6’4” vampire who had openly discussed your influence on his appetite was standing before you.

Should you flee? How does one overpower a vampire, anyhow? You had read in the account and heard it right from his mouth that Dracula could turn into certain creatures. It would take one shift of him into the black, beastly wolf for him to hunt you down with ease. You’d never even make it back up the slipway.

Your mind pounded and the indication that your heart was doing summersalts came to your attention as Dracula audibly took in a breath. He hummed in satisfaction as he released your scent. He knew he had managed to catch you completely off guard.

Within your bag, your phone began to vibrate and Dracula looked accusingly down at it. You bit your lip, fingers delving in to grab the decode and quickly answer.

“[First]?” Zoe’s voice rang through your ear.

“Zo-Zoe...” your lips trembled and it had nothing to do with the cool sea breeze.

“They let him out. They let Dracula out!” Her voice was in a similar state of panic and you knew it was because she was one of the only other people in the world who knew of his capabilities.

“Zoe, I-“

“Apparently he has a lawyer! Can you believe it?! Anyway, you need to be careful. He seemed to take a liking to you during the time you spent with him today. Promise me you’ll look after yourself.”

“Zoe-“

“Promise me, [First]-“

“It’s a little bit too late for that...” you trailed off, eyes locking with the man’s towering above you.

“How do you-... Where are you?!”

You had no chance to reply as cool fingers brushed against your own. You watched in horror as Dracula snatched the device from you and lifted it to his own ear.

“Dr. Van Helsing, how nice to get into contact... yes I know... trust me, I know... I suppose you could say it is a curiosity of sorts. It’s mere curiosity... what am I doing it for? Something different. Don’t bother us again, we’re busy.”

You could hear Zoe’s desperate pleas on the other end of the phone but Dracula had already figured out how to end a phone call and that was that.

“Absolutely amazing...” he breathed, turning your phone through his fingers as he inspected it, “they gave me a larger one in the Foundation. Did you know you can do practically anything on these little things? And it must be enchanted, considering it can deliver your voice to someone else so far away.” The wonder held in his eyes as he spoke made him seem almost human. Almost.

“Yes, I knew that...” you began, voice slow and as steady as possible, “but it’s not enchanted, it’s electric.”

“Electric...? How curious...”

“What is it that you wanted, and don’t just repeat your answer.” You folded you arms, trying to remain composed but your mind was whirring with the thought that this may be your last moment or two alive. If he really had decided to choose you as his next meal...

He sighed, an agitation growing deep in his chest. One of the only things he had ever craved so deeply was company. Most humans that he had interacted with were dull, cardboard cutouts of one another. Over 500 years of the same specimen got old and fast. There had only ever been a handful of humans that satisfied his thirst for something other than blood - good company. And Jonathan Harker, Sister Agatha Van Helsing and her descendant Dr. Zoe Van Helsing had been the only ones to peak his curiosity. But hours ago, when you had come in with a front of iron, and a poorly hidden core nothing short of anxiety-ridden, you had peaked this curiosity once more.

The sea groaned away in the distance and the seagulls had decided on steering well away from the undead figure on the sand. It was much more quiet, much more intimate and grew much more darker with every passing moment. Dracula’s eyes seemed locked on you, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to read between the lines of your stoic gaze up at him.

“What would you like my answer to be, [First]?” He inquired softly.

“Truthful, for starters.”

“Alright. You see, after 5 centuries of the same old types of people, one becomes accustomed to those who flee and quiver at the mere sight of a beast such as myself. I will never forget the day I made my entrance at the nunery Sister Agatha resided at.” At the mention of this woman’s name, you noticed a tenderness fill his voice and a small smile threatened the corners of his lips. A spark of wonder lit up in your chest. Had a cold, ancient, blood drinking beast grown a soft spot for one of the only people to put him in his place? His eyes glazed over momentarily and he seemed to look right through you.

“You still haven’t answered the question and you’re about to drool at the thought of this Sister Agatha.” You rolled your eyes. He immediately snapped out of it and there was a low rumble emitting from his chest for a split second.

“I like good company. Sister Agatha was good company. She was inquisitive and intrusive of my routine. While she lost our personal battle, she most certainly won my attention.” He looked down at you and noticed goosebumps rising on your skin. The sky was darkening even more and the navy had stretched out and was almost kissing the horizon, “goodness it’s late for a mortal, isn’t it?” His eyes glossed over the North Sea that expanded far into the horizon.

“Count Dracula?” You spoke, “are you going to kill me - or are you waiting for me to submit myself to you?” You has to ask. You needed to know if your life had reached its expiration date.

“Hm? Oh, not at all.” He looked down and then back towards you, a most wicked and mischievous grin taking hold over his features, “whilst I do enjoy a little food play every now and again,” he stepped forward and his right hand came up to cup your face delicately, “I have no intention of feasting upon you. Not yet, at least. Your scent alone is intoxicating. But your wit, your strength and your character are making me so very interested in you, Miss [First].” He stepped forwards, beginning to close the already small gap between you, “no, I think I’m going to have to keep an eye on you, young lady.” He spoke gently, eyes now boring down into your own. His orbs glistened in the moonlight, “I want to see just what you’re capable of.” He whispered.

“Maybe another time.” You suggested. Your eyes flitted up to the moon and back to him, “if all of this vampire lore is real, surely you should be off to your Transylvanian Earth to protect yourself?”

“And why would I do that?” He scoffed.

“Because it’s a full moon and that means werewolves.”

At the mere notion, the Count could no suppress the deep and hearty chuckle that bubbled up from his stomach. His eyes crinkled and his laughter caused him to bare his white teeth, currently blunt and of no means a weapon brandished to hurt you. For a moment, disbelief struck you as his laughs echoed along the beach and he let go of your face to smooth over his jacket. It took another moment for him to gain composure.

“Werewolves - now you’re being ridiculous.” He smirked down at you. He shoved one hand into his pocket.

“So a 523 year old vampire from Transylvania who wants to befriend a human because they’re using scientifically proved tactics to not die as prey and wants to know if there is any more substance to that is totally just mormal but you draw the line at warewolves? The supposed arch-enemy of vampires?”

“It’s ridiculous, I mean, how on Earth would the first warewolf even be created?”

“Well how were you created?” You challenged.

“Well, when a man loves a woman-“ he smirked.

“If you continue to speak, I really will drive a stake right through your chest.” He groaned inwardly at your response.

“I must admit, I do like your flare. You are very much lively, aren’t you?” He cocked his head.

“Livelier than you.”

~^*^~

When you awoke the next morning, you knew that you were in for some serious trouble. Zoe had left you over 30 missed calls, along with a plethora of concerned text messages inquiring about your and Dracula’s whereabouts. Although you could no longer answer for the Count, you found yourself sending a snarky reply that you were currently in bed. This turned out to be a mistake as within 10 minutes, your front door had burst open and Zoe, along with five armed men appeared at the foot of your bed.

You should have known that Zoe of all people would have freaked out over your contact with Dracula - she had been chasing him her entire life. Now he had been found. Not only had he been found, he had somewhat been resurrected and was on the prowl again for food and destruction. And you were a prime target.

After checking your body for bite marks, she began to harass you for every single detail about your encounter with Dracula the previous evening. You told her about him finding warewolf lore ridiculous, the obvious obsession he seemed to have with Sister Agatha, and how he had most likely revealed just a little too much to you about his true intentions. He wanted good company and anyone who rose to challenge him or stand out from the usual screaming meals he usually dealt with was a possible target for his attention.

“I don’t get it... I mean, I kind of do, it must be lonely to have everyone be afraid of- no I don’t get it.” Zoe sighed, “he’s an unnatural predator. Everyone is meant to be scared of him. A lion would never go for a snake because the snake would never be afraid of a lion. It wouldn’t even pay the snake any attention whatsoever! It would go after a zebra or something. So why is Dracula so focused on the snakes...”

“Thank you for insinuating that I am a snake, Zo.” You rolled your eyes.

“Not just you, but it seemed Jonathan Harker was a snake in Dracula’s hunting ground as well as Sister Agatha... I am said to look just like her, and I take no bull crap from him either...” You could tell she was losing you as she drifted off into a train of thought, “you’re going to have to cater to Dracula. We need to know what makes him tick.”

“What? So you’re going to use me as bait to do your little experiments on him?” You frowned.

“You said yourself he doesn’t intend on harming you.”

“Yeah, because a vampire never lies, huh, Zoe?”

“Please, [First]. I promise you we will do everything to keep you safe.”

“You better have a whole S.W.A.T. styled team on my ass at all times, Zo.”

“Only the best for my favourite assosicate.” Your ease to obey her wishes and commands caused a smile to break out on her features.

~^*^~

Walking along the pier, you allowed the hot summer breeze to ruffle your hair and cool your hot skin a little. Looking to your right was the Abbey perched high on the cliffs. You could make out some forms of the last tourists enjoying their visit. The sun had yet again sunken well below the horizon and your heart thumped in your chest. You anticipated a certain undead male’s arrival at any moment. It wasn’t that you had invited him out, but you knew that if he had become attached to your scent, he’d find you.

It was only a matter of time before he did find you. And you dreaded that moment.

#probably sucks like the last one sorry but yall asked for it #also i kind of know where im going with this but not really #im just enjoying writing drac #dracula #bbc dracula #claes bang #dracula x reader #bbc dracula x reader #dolly wells

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

17 with domestic starker

Don’t Shadow the Light

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Word Count: ~4k Notes: Mm, domestic Starker immediately made me think of the Counting Airplanes verse - so I hope you don’t mind that I went in that direction.  Warnings: Tony has PTSD, so that’s mentioned. A bit of none descriptive phone sex.  Summary: 

Uncle Ben’s is doing great, so Peter signs up to attend a conference in hopes of networking and expanding the coffee shop. Tony, the anxious little bean, struggles with the separation. 

do the thing, send in all the prompts

For the first time in 3 years of marriage, Tony had to survive a couple nights without Peter. Uncle Ben’s was doing insanely well and, in an effort to expand a little bit, Peter signed up to attend a business conference. If it weren’t for the huge Boeing deal they were trying to close up, Tony would have gone with him – but duty called for the both of them.

A part of him felt irrational – he was a very grown, very mature man that lived on his own for a long time before Peter came around. He went through basic training without anyone to write to and survived the confines of a cell with nothing on the horizon other than the sweet release of freedom. Self-sufficiency was a thing for such a long time, yet – he still felt anxious about the whole thing; Peter’s presence brought him peace.

Forcing himself to get over it, Tony made the most of the night before Peter left – they had a good dinner and spent a little bit of time talking about Peter’s adventure over the next couple of days. His husband could sense his hesitation and anxiety about the whole thing and promised to FaceTime and call as often as he could. Tony loved him for it but expected the smarty pants he loved more than anything to take advantage of the resources available to him while he was there.

They finished off the night with a couple of fantastic rounds of sex – Tony always appreciated when he could get his old, beat-up body to cooperate and perform like he was Peter’s age again. Satisfaction lulled him to sleep with Peter in his arms and the thought of his husband leaving early the next morning far from his mind – at least for a little while.

True to form, Tony’s nightmares dragged him under that night – they’d been getting better, but the build-up of feelings he’d been trying to hold back was too much. Like most things that fed off a victim, his fears ate up the negativity and weighed him down, the struggle to get back to the surface a little harder than normal. When he did come back around, Peter was looking at him with an unreadable expression.

Tony didn’t have the brain bytes to think too deeply about what it meant, he simply dug his face into the crook of Peter’s neck and clung to him. It felt like no time at all passed before Peter’s alarm was going off and both men were stumbling out of bed. Still a little shaken from his episode, Tony sat on the toilet seat while Peter got in the shower, the warmth of the bathroom grounding – the severe need for the closeness to his husband he got sitting there something he wouldn’t admit, no matter how obvious it was.

Peter didn’t say anything when Tony followed him out of the bathroom and into the bedroom – until he walked out of the house, he knew that he’d have a Tony sized shadow following him around; that coping mechanisms one of the harder ones for Peter to adjust to. No one was prepared to have a person follow them around, but Peter took it in stride. Instead of shunning him away, Peter accepted Tony’s need and embraced it. Tony figured Peter had no idea how much that truly meant to him.

The inevitability of saying goodbye came before Tony could stop it – Peter pulled him into a tight hug and held him close for what felt like several long minutes, his hand moving rhythmically up and down Tony’s back. It was reassuring and torturous all at the same time; Tony never wanted the gentle caress to ever stop. Giving Peter a tight squeeze, Tony pulled back just enough to let his lips linger against his husband’s – the kiss on the verge of becoming desperate quickly.

“I have to go. I know you don’t want me to, but it’ll be okay. I’ll call you when I get in, okay? I’ll call you,” Peter mumbled, the man pulling away out of necessity. His hands framed Tony’s face, the grip not letting him do much other than look right into Peter’s eyes. “I’ll miss you just as much, Tony.”

Pressing forward, Tony slotted their lips together, his eyes clenching tightly together. “I know. It’s just a couple of days. I’ll be fine, Pete. I’m just going to miss your wet towels on the floor of the bathroom, that’s all.” Tony wiped at his eye and took a step back. “I love you,” he whispered, the words finishing with a watery smile.

A soft look moved across Peter’s face, his own wet eyes widening with affection. “I love you, too.” Peter replied without hesitation. He shot Tony a smile, then quickly turned and got into his car. Any hesitation would’ve dragged the already excruciating situation out more than necessary – Peter was leaving for 3 days, not a lifetime.

Though Tony knew that, it felt like one. The dream from the night before clung to him in a way that made it hard to want to do anything, let alone go to work. He called Steve and didn’t even have to explain the situation, his friend reassured him things were taken care of for the afternoon and let Tony get off the phone. With that done, he walked back into the bedroom and crawled into Peter’s side of the bed.

Sleep didn’t claim him again for a while – Tony laid in the sheets that smelled so much like his person and attempted to relax but couldn’t find the way. He rolled around for a while, then flipped the covers back and climbed out of his cocoon just long enough to get the TV on and playing some show he wasn’t going to pay attention to, anyway. He just needed some background noise – anything to drown out the weirdly desolate hollowness in the recesses of his mind.

Thankfully, exhaustion overtook him and allowed for a couple hours of uninterrupted sleep – his eyes blinked open for the first time when he heard the familiar ringtone sounding from his phone. His heart rate picked up, the flash of “Husband” on the front of his screen an easy way to wake him up as quickly as possible. Clearing his throat, Tony answered the call, a smile slipping across his lips as he did.

“Petey,” Tony said in greeting. The remark pulled a laugh from Peter across the line, the sound of it making his chest warm with happiness for the first time all day.

“Hey Tones. From the sounds of it, I woke you up. I hope you were able to get some rest,” Peter replied, his voice soft, the tone of it meant to be tender and reassuring. Each word worked magic on him and made him feel calm – any type of presence from Peter at all a proven magical remedy.

Rolling a bit, Tony shifted until he was sitting up. Laying the way he was made him want to fall back to sleep, the heaviness of it trying to cling to him. “I’ve been sacked out for a couple of hours,” Tony admitted, a yawn overtaking him. “Did you get in okay? Is New York everything you remembered it to be?”

“I did – I got through the airport, into a cap, and checked into the conference, then spent a little time at the welcome banquet. New York is exactly how I remember it – busy and a little gray. Can’t touch Colorado,” Peter remarked wistfully. “I miss you.”

The simplicity of the words rang in Tony’s ears, the way they made him feel still so intense – like every time Peter said them was the first time. He gripped the phone in his hands a little tighter, his traitorous eyes watering. “There’s not a lot that can touch Colorado, Pete.” He let the cookie cutter remark come from his mouth first and then – “I miss you. A lot. More than 12 hours of separation should call for.” He laughed at himself, the absurdity of his words not lost on him.

Peter was quick to negate him, however. “It’s okay that we miss each other, Tony. I’ve spent every day falling asleep next to you for the past 4 years. The idea of not doing it tonight is crippling.” He adjusted then; the movement apparent in the rustle on the line. “You’re my husband, Tones. I’m obsessed with you and don’t want to fathom that I don’t have your warm chest to cling to.”

Blushing, Tony forced himself to take in a long breath – he knew Peter’s words were the truth, he heard them often enough. The vulnerability of them, however, never ceased to stop him in his tracks. “You are kind of obsessed with me.”

The two of them talked for another hour before the call of fatigue was too much for Tony – he fell asleep with the sound of Peter’s voice in his ear.

----

The next couple of days went by at a snail’s pace. Knowing that Steve and Rhodey couldn’t take on all of the work sitting in the garage, Tony got up and went in the next day. Waking up to a dead phone and a 5 hour long call on his log when he got it powered again, Tony felt a little bit better. Peter’s words from the night before stuck with him – his husband missed him just as much and it was okay to feel the clingy feeling of discomfort and irritation.

For a second, Tony let himself remember the reason why he never connected with someone else – the exact feeling bubbling within him. That thought was short lived, however, his brain supplied him with every reason Peter meant what he did to him; their connection was the only exception.

Getting through the workday provided a good distraction – the hours in the shop were packed with enough engine replacements and upgrades that thinking about anything other than the science wasn’t viable. The second he walked into the empty house, however, Tony felt loneliness creep over him. It took him a while to get further than the kitchen and then even longer to get out of his clothes and in the shower to clean off the day’s grime.

Not in the least bit hungry, Tony turned the TV on in the bedroom and let his body drop into Peter’s normal space again – the sheets smelt a little less like him than the day before, but the scent lingered regardless. Digging his nose into Peter’s pillow, Tony took comfort in the familiarity of it. The memory of their shopping trip to buy the fluffy thing flashed across his mind and eased the vice grip on his anxiety.

Like the previous night, Tony fell asleep with Peter on the other side of the phone. He opted out on the FaceTime calls – seeing Peter’s face might make the whole situation harder. Instead, he let Peter talk about his day and all of the different things he learned and wanted to apply to Uncle Ben’s. The passionate way he spoke made Tony’s heart ache and relaxed him further. Falling asleep mid-sentence, Tony missed the softly muttered ‘I love you’ and affectionate sigh that followed.

Steve and Rhodey took pity on him the next day, the two of them forcing Tony to sit in the small hangar kitchen and eat the admittedly delicious pizza from the parlor down the road. Apart from necessary stuff around the shop the last couple of days, Tony hadn’t talked to either of his closest friends – shutting down was the easiest and still took a lot of effort to not let that be his default reaction.

After spending a couple of hours trading stories and actually getting his head out of his ass, Tony went home feeling okay – he only needed to make it through 20 more hours before Peter came home. Between the effort of his friends and that knowledge, he felt determined to not fall into a lump of nothing the second he walked into the door.

Tony managed to get a few things around the house done before getting into the shower and settling down for the night. Still a little wired, he wondered if Peter was alone and in his room getting ready for bed, too. It felt like too long of a time since he heard his husband in the throes of passion – in that moment, Tony felt desperate to change that.

As if he were reading his mind, Peter called him, the sight of his name sending a rush through him. They didn’t partake in phone sex often, there wasn’t ever much distance between them – yet, he craved it; the need for that connection more important than the usual nerves he felt about talking, let alone saying anything about the way he felt.

“Hey, baby,” Tony mumbled, the nickname he reserved for times just like this one tumbling from his mouth.  Clenching his eyes shut, he shifted a little and waited for Peter’s reply.

“Baby, huh?” Peter started; a chuckle apparent in his tone.

The echo Tony could hear next made him realized he’d been put on speaker – his nervousness lessened a little. Hands-free meant having the ability to use said hands that were free. Keeping his eyes closed, Tony let Peter continue.

“I like that. Hey yourself. What are you doing right now, Tony?” Peter asked, the tone of his voice dropping a little. Without much of an exchange, Peter understood him immediately.

Switching his own phone to speaker, Tony shifted a bit and got himself comfortable in the middle of the bed. His skin was still a little damp from the shower, so he was only covered in a pair of grey boxer briefs and nothing else. The rush of heat he couldn’t help danced across his limbs, gooseflesh following in its wake.

“I just got out of the shower. I had a little energy when I got home, so I finally moved the stuff in the garage and changed all the air conditioning filters.” Tony tried to sound casual, though he’d already given himself away. It felt good just to hear Peter’s voice – he wanted his husband to know that first and foremost.

Yet, Peter was his other half for a reason – where Tony wanted to beat around the bush, Peter stepped right through it and took Tony by the back of the neck. “Thanks for doing that. Now why don’t you tell me about what you’re wearing.”

The mix of praise and command didn’t foster anything but compliance, that thought making Tony answer without thinking. “I’m wearing those Calvin Klein’s you got me for Christmas last year,” Tony muttered, his fingers moving to the waistband to trace the letters. He remembered the nervous look on Peter’s face – they were a different brand than Tony’s usual; change didn’t always go over well. When he saw them however, he immediately felt sexy – if Peter wanted to see him in the expensive underwear, he’d gladly do it.

A drawn out ‘mmm’ brought him out of the memory’s haze, the noise shooting a direct line of heat right to his groin. Peter hadn’t said to yet, but Tony couldn’t help it – he reached down and cupped himself, the feelings coursing through him on the cusp of overwhelming.

“You look great in those. Especially the gray ones. Are you wearing the gray ones, Tony?”

For a while, Peter asked him questions that progressively got more sexual. ‘Do you think your underwear would look better on the floor?’, ‘Are you thinking about my hands on you or your hands on me?’, or the best one – ‘How bad do you want to cum?’ Tony answered each of them truthfully, his coherency diminishing, but need to please Peter in the forefront of his mind the entire time.

Peter’s ability to pull him out of his own head and actually enjoy the things he liked became more apparent over the phone. He catered his responses to the things Tony said and when he finally let him cum, Peter was right there with him. Coming down, Tony listened to Peter’s breaths across the line like he would if they were tangled up with each other in person. The only thing that was missing was the thump of Peter’s heart against his ear, but he’d have that back soon enough.

“Are you feeling better now?” Peter asked after a while, his voice light and sleepy, the ultimate post-orgasmic tone. There wouldn’t be too much more conversation for either of them.

“Much. I miss you, Pete. I’m ready to touch you again – you calling every night has been nice, but I’m so ready for a hug,” Tony admitted, his own sleepiness making his lips a little looser than usual.

The light laugh he heard pulled his lips up into a smile, his spirit still high from the admittedly good day and the even better ending to it. Peter’s melty tones and chest deep noises were just icing on the cake.

“Fuck – I miss you, too. Especially when you’re being all soft like this. I can’t wait to have you in my arms again, Tony. Just a few more hours – I’ll be home before you get off of work tomorrow afternoon,” Peter replied, the obvious attempt to reassure not missed. The way Peter loved him, with so much incredible depth, made his heart race.

“Don’t tell me that. I’ll be watching the clock the whole day,” Tony joked, his lips still taut in a grin. “In all seriousness, though – I’m ready to see you. Please make time speed up a little.”

Like the last few nights, Tony let himself be lulled to sleep by the sound of Peter on the other side of the line. He got up out of bed to clean himself off and get into a clean pair of shorts, then got comfortable. Peter told him a little more about the conference and the stupid keynote speaker who didn’t bring the right presentation to an auditorium filled to capacity.

After a little while of Tony not replying, Peter stopped talking, his breathing getting heavier with each passing minute. Right before Tony passed out for real, he blinked awake to hear the soft snuffle of Peter’s kind-of snore. Grinning, he nuzzled back into the pillow and promptly fell asleep – the nightmares finally far, far away.

----

Knowing that Peter was going to be home when he got through the door the next day gave him a motivation he hadn’t had since the man left. If he immersed himself in the work, the time between him and getting to see Peter wouldn’t feel so long. It wasn’t sound science, but it seemed to work – he got lost in the remainder of the Boeing customization and didn’t look up until 10 minutes before quitting time.

He went about getting out of his coveralls and his hands clean – the process taking the remainder of the open hours for the garage. Both Rhodey and Steve knew that Peter was back, so they didn’t bat an eye when he raced out without saying much of anything. He turned and opened the door with his back, a soft smile on his lips – Tony sending them a wink. Feeling good wasn’t overrated – he appreciated all the moments that made his blood course through his veins like it was right that second.

His impatience made the drive home seem twenty minutes longer than it actually was – Tony tapped on the steering wheel irritably the entire time. Seeing Peter’s car in the driveway made his eyes light up, he hadn’t even seen the man yet and he already felt a billion times better just knowing Peter was there, waiting for him.

Fine motor skills took way more focus than usual – his excitement making it hard to think about anything other than getting out of his car and into the house where his beautiful husband was. He left his workbag on the front seat and made his way hastily across the grass and into the house; the door blessedly unlocked.

Peter peeked his head out of the kitchen door at the sound of footsteps, his eyes widening when he noticed Tony. The peanut butter sandwich that was about a quarter of the way to Peter’s mouth dropped on the plate Peter was holding that went to the corner of the counter, his hands dropping to his sides to wipe the crumbs off on his pants before taking quick strides and closing the distance between them.

Tony let out a long sigh as Peter’s arms wrapped around him. His husband smelt like recycled air and sweat – a lovely traveler’s concoction that shouldn’t have been as appealing as it was. Ducking his head into the crook of Peter’s neck, Tony clung to him, his body completely relaxing for the first time since he heard about the trip. “I’m so glad you’re home,” he said, the desperation disguised by the glorious muffle of words against skin.

Lips on his seemed like a good enough response, Tony leaned into the kiss and let himself melt a little further – words weren’t ever his forte, anyway. Peter put a lot into the kiss, his hands clenching first at Tony’s shoulders, then down his flank to settle at the edge of his shirt. So lost in the kiss, he didn’t notice fingers starting to creep under the thin t-shirt he threw on before walking out of the hangar’s locker room.

Gasping, Tony pulled back from the deep kiss, his skin prickled from the cold hands that were now flat against the planes of his back. “Holy shit, Pete,” Tony exclaimed, his hands batting Peter’s out of his shirt to stop the overabundance of cascading stimulus. They shared a smile, his husband’s eyes glazed over and overtaken by rogue pupils – the sight beautiful.

Those same cold hands cupped his cheeks, Peter’s fingertips running around the line of his lips to trace the shape of them – the touch was still tingly cold, but he got used to it as the seconds passed. Glad to simply be back in his presence, Tony soaked up as much as he could.

Peter had a lot of good things coming for him – this wouldn’t be the only time he left to better himself. Loving him meant being there to support him, which meant not falling apart at the seams. In all the bogged down feeling he experienced while Peter was gone, Tony realized that it was worth it – finding a way to enjoy life together from afar.

There wasn’t anything quite like that ‘good to see you’ feeling.

#starker #ironspider #bobbie writes #counting airplanes #nonnie #anonymous #don't shadow the light

[queenbirbs]

find you in the night | Mal x MC

Pairing: Mal Volari x h!MC (Elwyn)

Word count: 2600+

Summary: A little conversation at sixty-three feet in the air. Or: Mal invites Elwyn to see the abandoned wonder of Westavia Woods.   Title taken from Andrew Belle’s “In My Veins.”

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“This is a lot less fun than you said it would be.”

“I dunno. I’ve got a pretty spectacular view from where I’m standing,” Mal counters from where he leans over the edge, no doubt getting an eyeful.

Though she can’t see the smirk on his face, given that she’s too busy climbing up the side of a castle, Elwyn knows it’s there. The handhold she chose gives way under her palm, tearing her attention away from the man above. She digs through the vines and finds another, her nails scratching at the stone in a way that sends a shiver up her spine – and not in a good way, either.

“A little help down here?” she calls up.

In the span of a second, Mal straddles the turret’s wall and waggles his fingers for her to take. Elwyn frowns up at him, even as her boots slip across the protruding stone blocks. “There’s no way that’s safe. Throw me a rope or something.”

“It’s perfectly safe!” he defends. His confidence dims when he eyes the distance between them again. “Safe-ish. C’mon, kit, we haven’t got all day. Sun’s gonna set before you manage to inch your way up here–”

“Fine. Give me your damn hand, then.” She huffs, grinning all the while – he answers in kind with his own as he leans down and grips her hand. His skin is warm from the sun-baked stones, his palm rough from spending a lifetime scaling such structures for treasure.

“That’s it,” he coaxes. “Up and over.”

She climbs the rest of the way up and throws a leg over the wall, drawing in a breath to calm her nerves. She sucks in another when she takes in their view.

“Oh, wow.”  

“I know.”

The castle they sit atop, formerly owned by some pompous asshole (Mal’s words, not hers, though she tends to agree with his sentiments regarding the upper class), sprawls across several acres.

Or, at least, it once had. Now, some hundred or so years since its abandonment, much of it has fallen into disrepair. The gatehouse and several of the towers are nothing more than moss-coated rubble. Dense sheets of vines crawl their way up and over the remaining towers and keep. The courtyard is now an extension of the forest, trees and shrubs filling the neat square where people once bustled about.  

What’s left of the castle towers high above Westavia Woods. The name is a bit of a misnomer, considering the massive spread of forest between Undermount and Whitetower. After leaving the elven city and winding down through the Salus Mountains (while battling a few trolls along the way), they’d stopped here to rest. Tyril had called the area Tel’ eath, which roughly translated to ‘the endless.’ Elwyn didn’t need him to expand on that one.

The view before them is an ocean of green, the forest stretching as far as the eye can see. Already low in the sky, the sun traces the line of the horizon a brilliant gold. Birds soar across the landscape, their forms thrown into sharp relief.  

“I thought it’d be nice to get away.” Mal glances her way and lets out a sigh of content. “Glad to see I was right.”

“Like an adventure from our adventure?”

“Exactly.” He reaches down into his bag and produces a small bottle. The golden liquid inside almost shimmers in the waning sunlight. “Swiped this from the winery while you were grabbing the mangy cat-bat his own bottle.”

Popping out the cork with the tip of his dagger, Mal hands it off to her for the first sip. The taste is sweet, almost to the degree of too much, before the mellow hint of herbs emerges to soothe the dulcified liquid. If the Celestial icewine was sunshine-and-snow, the honey-wine is a gentle wind through a willow tree, or the first bite of autumn. Elwyn thinks of the field of meadowsweet on the eastern edge of Riverbend. How she would spend afternoons hidden in the dense thicket, her nose in a book of fantastical places like Cordonia, or La Huerta, or Lykos, or Brooklyn.    

“I can see why Threep likes it,” she says, taking another sip before passing it back to Mal.

Rolling her shoulders to ease the muscles now sore from her ascent, she indulges in the scenery. From this height, she can easily spot camp, where the steady stream of smoke from their fire snakes up through the tree cover. Their friends’ voices are nothing more than a distant thrum, indecipherable on the wind.

“I’ve never climbed something so tall. There was an old fortress south of Riverbend that I went to the top of, but it was only three stories high. And the view was nothing like this.”

“All by yourself?” he teases, making a show of licking his lips clean of the wine. “And here I thought you hadn’t taken part in a single adventure until I came along.”

“It wasn’t much of an adventure. And I went with the town blacksmith.”

“Ah. What’s his name, then?”

“Her name is Simona.”

Mal hums a tone of interest, one eyebrow peaked. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t ya?”

She levels a look of her own at him. “You did see me make out with that mermaid, didn’t you?”

“It’s not like I was ogling you two,” he points out with a scoff. “Not that you’ll ever hear me admit it again, but I was jealous.”

“Oh, I know. You’re not exactly subtle about it.”

“I’d try to hide it, but you seem to see right through me.” He’s grinning as he says it, but there’s a softness in his gaze that wasn’t there weeks ago.

It’s his only tell that she’s been able to spot. Maybe because he lets her, she considers, and the thought warms her, oddly enough.

Turning from her companion, Elwyn scans the farthest edge of the forest as best she can, looking for the age-old sign of civilization: right angles. Even far beyond her sight, she knows that the great city of Whitetower is still many, many miles away. The thought of visiting the capital city has her torn in two.

On one hand, it’s somewhere she’s always wanted to go, after seeing a painting of the sparkling, white castles rising high into the sky, the cobblestone streets below filled with the smudged outlines of its citizens. After living most of her life in a tiny, backwater town, she longed to experience a real, bustling city filled to the brim with people.

On the other hand, she knows that it’s the last stop on their adventure through Morella. Elwyn has no doubt that they’ll find the last shard; has no qualms about fighting the Shadow Court; has no objection to doing whatever it takes to get her brother back.

She can only hope that her friends make it out alive.

A quick tug on her braid brings her out of her woolgathering.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

“Wondering what awaits us in the city,” she answers, trying her best to hide the anxiety she feels.

Mal rolls his shoulders in a lazy shrug, exuding a carefree appearance. It’s a good act, she’ll give him that.

“Destruction, devastation… death. But that’s the usual for Whitetower.”

“I know you don’t want to return, but I’m glad you’re coming.”

“It’s not that,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’d always planned to go back, of course, what with my sister still living there. But that sort of visit would be a quick in-and-out, do a bit of business, and be off before anyone who cared to know even suspected.”

Squinting out at the horizon, he sighs before flashing her a wry grin. “I have a feeling we’ll be making quite the entrance for ourselves this time.”

She watches the grin fade away as his brown eyes search hers.

“I have few memories of my village,” she tells him, “but not all of them are good. And I’m not only talking about the night it was destroyed. So, I understand about wanting to leave the past where it lies.”

“I’d be lying if I hadn’t thought about it burning down to ash. Parts of it, at least,” he amends. “I don’t wish any harm on the citizens.”

“I’m guessing those parts would be the castle.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, something dark flashing in his eyes. “Just those.”

Before them, the sun has disappeared. It throws its last light out across the treetops, a vain attempt to keep its hold on the day. The night arrives like a deep, blue blanket thrown over the sky. High above them, stars twinkle into existence, materializing in droves. It’s as if someone has flicked a white paintbrush across the heavens. A cool wind rushes past; Elwyn shudders along with the vines.

She thinks of Kade and the realm he’s trapped in. Can he see the night sky from wherever he is? Can he keep himself sane by listing off the constellations, something that used to annoy the piss out of her growing up? Can he even still be alive?

She thinks of Kaya, frozen in death, her fear sculpted across her glass form, all alone at what seemed like the bottom of the world. Of all the terrible thoughts that bubble up, Elwyn thinks the worst might be her hands. How they were raised to shield herself from the attack, how that same instinct of survival runs deep in everything, no matter the species. Had she known what was coming? Or was there surprise hidden somewhere behind all that fear?

“Should we have… done something for Kaya?” she asks, hating how small her voice sounds.

“She was beyond our help.”

“I know that. But it still feels like we abandoned her. We left her down there.” Elwyn scrubs at her eyes, wishing she could banish away the immediate well of tears. “I keep thinking about the last time I saw Kade. He had that same expression. What if he thinks there’s no rescue coming? What if he does, though, and we can’t? What if–”

“Hey, hey,” Mal cuts off her worried rambling. He cups her face and drops a kiss to her forehead, and then another just under her eye. Something squeezes tight in her chest at the gesture. “You’ll worry yourself in circles like that.”

“I know,” she whispers, her hand covering his. “But I can’t–”

“Help it. I understand. And I wouldn’t lie to you, not about this. Kade… he–”

“May be lost forever,” Elwyn finishes for him.

He winces, but gives her a quick nod.

“I know that,” she tells him. “After all we’ve seen of what the Shadow Court can do, I can only run on blind faith at this point that I’ll get him back.”

“Hey, now. It’s not only faith. You’ve got the four of us.” He pauses and frowns. “Well, five if you count the cat, but he’s at most a glorified stomach with wings. But that doesn’t mean that we won’t fight like hell for your brother.”

His thumb sweeps across her cheek, steadying her. She turns her head and presses her lips to his palm, wishing she could express the gratitude she feels that they’ve all stuck beside her this long. Instead, she shifts to take another long look at the world as the night closes in on them.  

“I feel like I could see Riverbend from here.”

“If it weren’t for the curve of the world, and if your eyes were as good as mine, you probably could.”

She gives his thigh a light smack.

“My eyes are just fine, thank you.”

“Very fine indeed,” he agrees, that familiar smirk of his firmly in place.

She realizes that she would like to wipe it right off. Sliding her hand down along his arm, she wraps it around his bicep and hauls him down for a kiss.

He’s quick on the uptake, his arms coming around to circle her waist and drag her closer. His tongue runs across her bottom lip, asking for entry; she acquiesces with a tilt of her head and deepens the kiss. The taste of him is a concoction of aged leather, a rain-soaked forest, and a spice she can’t seem to put a name to, something that seems to be uniquely Mal.

His touch dances across her back and up along her ribs, one hand around her waist to keep her steady while the other sinks into her hair. She hooks a leg up and around his hip, drawing him flush against her. Her move is met with a satisfied hum. Pleasure travels through her veins, slow and steady like treacle. It’s dizzying, the effect of him. If he asks, she’ll blame it on the dangerous, sixty-foot drop mere inches away, but they both know a lie when they hear one.

He breaks their kiss to trail his mouth down her neck and across her chest.

“If you wanted to get me all alone so you could have your way with me,” he pauses, his tongue tracing the lines of her collarbone in a way that makes her breath hitch, “you could’ve just said so.”

“I thought our resident rogue and self-proclaimed ‘king of stealth’ would enjoy my attempt at subtlety.”

He laughs, his beard tickling at the sensitive skin of her throat. Some deep, tucked-away part of her would like to hear the sound every day of her life.

“Elwyn, I’ve seen you flirt with every living thing we’ve come across. You wouldn’t know subtle if it was branded across your forehead.”

Dragging her hand down his front, she treats him to a hint of her nails, pleased when he sucks in a breath as she continues lower.

“The way I see it,” she murmurs, “why waste all that precious time and energy when I can be as brazen as I’d like and get there even faster?”

Sliding her touch back up his body, she fits two fingers under his chin and urges him to meet her for another kiss. Her toes curl inside her boots at the heady slide of his lips against hers.

“Would you like to know my next idea?” he asks, nipping a path along her jaw to below her ear.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Once we can get away from our merry band of misfits for more than two minutes, I plan on taking you to bed.” He bites down at the soft skin below her ear, a breathy chuckle escaping him when she bites her lip on the end of a groan. “Once there, I plan on coaxing out all these lovely noises you’re keeping bottled up.”

Shivers dance up her spine, but in a good way this time.

“What a coincidence.” She grins up at him when he pulls back to return to her mouth. “Because that’s exactly what I plan on doing with you.”

He gazes down at her with something akin to wonder. “Great minds think alike, then.”

At the horizon, the sunlight empties out the last of its parting glass. The dark blue of twilight seeps across the canvas before them. “We should probably get going,” he sighs, the disappointment ringing through his words. “Especially if we want to eat something before Threep hoards it all for himself.”

Elwyn concedes his point and casts a wary glance down the side of the castle.

“Um, how are we going to get back down?”

“Like any normal person would. By the stairs.”

She would wipe the shit-eating grin off his face if she wasn’t worried she’d knock him straight off the turret.

“There are stairs? You told me the only way up was to climb!”

“The only interesting way up. C’mon, El, what’s life without a little adventure, hmm?”

“Don’t call me El.”

“I think it suits you, but all right, fine. How about Wynnie?”

“I will throw you from this castle, I swear.”

“Ah, but you’re laughing. Admit it, you like it.”

“You’re absurd.”

“You know what, you’re right. But it’s a shame you can’t come up with a nickname for me, what with my name being so short.”

“I’m sure I can find something that suits you.”

“Oh, surely you must know by now, Elwyn. It’s you – you suit me right down to the ground.”

+

+

+

AN: Me, ending a story with lines of dialogue instead of giving it a proper send-off? Truly unprecedented.

References: a line from Syfy’s Alice and the Roman goddess Salus that I named the mountains after.

Was I inspired to write this by the fact that Mal Volari is essentially the whatever-century-this-book-exists-in version of Nathan Drake? Yes, thanks. Was there ever any doubt I would love him the moment he opened his smart mouth? Nope!

Honey-wine is actually another name for mead, though there is a chance they could be different drinks depending on the region (thanks wikipedia). No matter what, though, I imagine the drink tastes a lot better in the Blades universe than my only taste of it at a pub in Pitlochry.

#mal x mc #mal volari #choices blades #blades of light and shadow #Kaila writes things #f: find you in the night

[void-tiger]

Shirotember Day 2: Alone

It was dark. Why was it dark. Where was his Team? He reached out in front of him, groping in the dark as his mind caused iridescent and nebulous swirls of anticolor and shapes loom at the corners of his vision, threatening to surround him, and—

Shiro took a breath. Held it. Released.

Except…he couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel his chest expand against ribs, or muscles contract with the exhale and—

He breathed again, but didn’t expect to feel himself do it. He wasn’t disappointed. Shiro wished he were.

At least he didn’t hurt. No phantom throbs from a limb that didn’t exist, no aches or swelling from too dense bones that had been broken and rebroken and forced to heal again until they felt much too dense. No sharp tugging from his scars as they protested when the rest of his skin flexed and relaxed. Shiro couldn’t convince himself that was a good thing.

Shiro tried reaching out to his Lion. But the Bond felt slack.

.

He was so cold.

No…not cold. His scars and bones would protest from cold. He just wasn’t warm. He reflexively crossed his arms, anyway, intent on rubbing some warmth back into them. To just feel something.

His brain told him he was millimeters away from touching skin. His hand and arm said there was nothing there.

Panic rose in him again as he tried to rub his face. Nothing. His hand waved through where his brain said his face should be there and bile rose to his throat but didn’t burn and—

Shiro laughed. Long and hard and probably just a touch hysterical. Okay, a lot hysterical. Not that he had to worry about his Team witnessing it and scaring them. His Team wasn’t here…which was both a pain and comfort. At least they were safe…he hoped.

And he couldn’t hear any of it.

.

He didn’t bother trying to test the gravity of whatever this space was. His brain told him it was The Void. Shiro tried not to think of it as such. Void was too close to Nothing and too close to Dead.

But…it was definitely a void.

Which meant he was most definitely dead.

Was this hell, then? Not that he believed in it, but…he imagined it would either be burning or full of other beings’ tormented screaming in the dark. Just not empty.

Who was he kidding. He couldn’t imagine hell being worse than this.

“Hey Black. Don’t suppose you’re here to? No, didn’t think so.”

.

Voices. His Team! But they were too distorted and far away yet oh so close but underwater or behind a wall—

“Hey!” he screamed. “I’m here!”

The voices pulled further away.

“NO! Don’t leave me here! I’m here!”

His ears strained at the sudden silence. Ringing filled them in their desperate attempt to hear something again.

“…no. I’m not. I’m not dead. I’m not…”

He was pretty sure he was.

Shiro’s nonexistent arms pulled his nonexistent legs toward him as they curled into his nonexistent chest. And if nothing about him existed then he wasn’t crying. HA.

.

“Hey, Black. Don’t suppose you sense me yet. Getting out of wherever this is would be really appreciated.

“Oh right…you can’t. ‘Cause I’m dead.”

.

“Thought death was supposed to be like sleeping. Which…I’m definitely awake. Conclusion: I’m not actually dead. Maybe comatose? Think I read stuff about coma patients actually having some sense of awareness…but think they could feel their bodies, too. I can’t.

“Counter argument: ghosts do not have bodies. Therefore I’m a ghost. But…even ghosts can at least see some projection of themselves, and haunting their surroundings. Conclusion, I’m not dead, ‘cause even being a ghost would be better than this.

“Hey, Black! Care to offer your opinion?”

Silence.

“…didn’t think so. If I am dead then I’m haunting you, Cat.”

.

Voices again. Shiro sniffed derisively. Probably just what was left of his consciousness inventing things. Wouldn’t exactly be the first time.

Only…the voices were alone this time, not lumped in a crowd, before trading out with another one.

Slowly his world brightened to a dark purple, as the watery pink of a coming dawn faded into existence before dimming again into pale, white pinpricks of light. The world brightened again with hints of yellow and green before they, too faded into the inky purple, deepening into a rich indigo and swirling the white pinpricks into galaxy arms. But…Shiro thought he could make out some sort of surface, now…even if light shined below it instead of just over it.

But he could cry from relief out of just being able to see something again, even something so simple as color. It didn’t matter, his eyes lapped it up ravenously.

The ground further solidified into something resembling a shallow salt flat covered with a half inch of clear liquid. And Shiro realized that the colors actually felt familiar, and maybe those voices were his Team, and—

“HEY!!!” he cried again. What did he have to lose. “I’m here! I’m still here!”

The blue light faded into the water and a larger prick of light, its voice replaced silence.

Shiro sank to his knees, splashing the water as it displaced. Well. At least something about himself was solid again, but he couldn’t quite swallow the bitter disappointment.

Finally the indigo touched with red, this voice clearer than the others had been.

“…Shiro—“

“KEITH!!!” Shiro cried. “Keith, I’m here! Please!” Shiro felt a tug at his quintessence, the rumble of what he dared to hope was his Lion, and shoved as much of himself as he could. Yet it met resistance, something pushing his quintessence back into himself except for that small tug.

“NO!!! Keith, please sense me!”

But the light faded into a pinprick of red. Shiro was alone in the dark again, but this time with the stars for company.

…well. He hadn’t lost anything.

.

Adam had demanded how he could stand going to space so often. Shiro said he couldn’t ever grow tired of the stars, and couldn’t fathom how Adam just didn’t understand. Sam did. So did Matt. And Sam even risked the stars betting on Shiro.

Shiro now wished he could take it back, beg Sam not to risk his career on him, get a different pilot. One better who could’ve gotten in and out of Kerberos faster. Or maybe a worse one, who got there too slow to even intersect with the Galra’s flight plan.

Or even if they all really had crashed. It’d have been quicker and more decisive than whatever the Galra planned for the Holts. And it would’ve been better than being stuck in whatever limbo this was.

The Void’s star-dusted sky rumbled with gentle thunder or a Lion’s Roar. Shiro couldn’t bring himself to care. If that was Black, it was all too little, too late. If the Lion wasn’t going to get him out, then the Team was better off just getting a new Black Paladin.

Shiro hadn’t thought he could ever grow tired of the stars. But he was definitely weary of these.

.

A new shape rose onto the horizon. More solid and larger than the others had been, but also dimmer. Its corona barely lapped around the edges, and flickered fainter with every passing tick. Something pulled at his quintessence again as the sky rumbled and flashed and the Red Star grew to blinding.

Curiosity bubbled in Shiro, and on a whim he fed the tug. Stars streaked into contrails as the entire Void seemed to be rushing towards…something. Then just as suddenly, it stopped. Shiro lost his balances and crashed into the water.

The corona, now nearly completely snuffed out, slowly brightened again. Shiro rose to his feet…and realized that he could see his limbs for the first time in ages. The water reflected his shape, but the light still remained too dim to make out his features.

“…we found him.”

And ember of hope smoldered back to life. “Keith?” Shiro called hesitantly. “Can you hear me?”

But Keith’s voice faded with the dimming red star.

.

“…what’s wrong?”

Shiro blinked. That was his voice. But he was inside…what he guessed was the Black Lion’s quintessence, although he didn’t exactly understand how.

A paler version of him reflected underneath the water…wearing his uniform. “Oh you can’t be serious,” Shiro growled. “That isn’t me you stupid Cat!”

The phantom blinked as a pained look crossed his face. His hands clenched, before falling slack. “Keith…I’m going to need you to lead this mission. The Black Lion isn’t responding…looks like you’re the Black Paladin now.”

A strange mix of vindication and dismay swelled in Shiro’s chest as the impostor faded away. So Keith had done as he’d asked. But if Shiro really was dead…then what did it make him, exactly.

“…I’m sorry,” Shiro whispered. “I shouldn’t have called you that.”

Thunder rumbled gently, briefly brightening the indigo sky as the eclipse corona faded.

“…but you know I was joking about haunting you, right? So if Keith’s your paladin now…what do you need me for.”

Thunder rumbled again, this time with cloud lightning clustered closer together…close enough for Shiro to fully see his reflection for the first time…and see it staring back at him in shock while wearing the Black Paladin armor.

.

“…I’m sorry. I know I promised to stay away, but…Keith isn’t flying with you. And sure I miss…”

Shiro glanced up. The corona was brighter again. Sure enough, several feet away stood the doppelganger. Something vicious twisted inside of him at the sight of the other him.

“…yeah that’s not important. Forget I said it.”

The Other Him tugged at his hair. Shiro quirked an eyebrow at the other man’s shorter fringe. At least he didn’t have the audacity to wear Shiro’s uniform this time…but did that mean Keith was instead?

A defeated look crossed the phantom’s face, but his posture remained erect. Shiro wondered who the Other Him thought he was fooling.

“They’re going to get killed if Keith stays away. And all I can do is watch.”

The Phantom turned, then slowly dissolved from sight as the corona dimmed.

.

“Please! People’s lives are at stake!”

The Phantom again. But as sporadic as the doppelganger’s visits to the Black Lion were, Shiro heard Keith’s voice echo through even less. What had happened that would make this Other Him dare return? Where the hell was Keith?

“You trusted me once!”

“No she hasn’t!” Shiro screamed at the specter. “That was me! You had nothing to do with it!”

“…trust me again.”

Thunder rumbled and Shiro could practically feel the Black Lion whine with the same desperation Shiro heard in that Other Shiro’s voice. Shiro’s eyes pinched shut as he released his quintessence, bridging the gap between that Other Him and his Lion.

“…thank you.”

“This isn’t for you,” Shiro snarled, “but for them. Protect my Team. And don’t make me regret this.”

“Converge on me! Form Voltron!”

.

Keith’s voice never returned, but the clone did. Some moments Shiro resented him, wondering if the clone was the reason Shiro never heard bits of Keith’s Voice echoing in the Void. But other times Shiro couldn’t help but pity him, empathizing with the clones fears and frustrations as he poured out his heart to the Black Lion, wondered if he was even worthy…completely unaware of the Real Shiro forced to eavesdrop the entire time.

Because one thing was crystal clear to Shiro: that other him thought he was the real thing. He also feared he might be a threat, and often begged the Black Lion to make Keith come home, that he’d be okay even though he loved being a Paladin…but something wasn’t right with him and it scared him.

At those times Shiro pinched his eyes shut and tried not to envy the Lion’s clear adoration of the clone, and how the clone was out there with his Team while Shiro remained trapped inside the Lion itself.

And very much dead. Probably. Maybe. Did dead people have quintessence?

So when the clone ordered the others to Form Voltron! Shiro sent his quintessence along the clone’s bond to make up the slack. The clone without fail always thanked who he thought was the Black Lion for the assist, and promised to do better.

Shiro swallowed the bitter (brain supplied…) taste in his mouth and couldn’t help but be relieved when the clone’s phantom image left.

Even if the clone’s absence plunged the Void into mostly darkness yet again.

.

“…we found Commander Hol-er-Sam. But he’s in Zarkon’s possession, and the Team’s ready to just either murder Lotor or walk away, and I don’t know what to do!”

Shiro’s heart sank. He’d trusted his Team to the clone, but things seemed to continue to deteriorate instead. The clone had vanished for what Shiro guesstimated to be at least a week…not that the Black Lion’s void provided any true sense of time. Or even how long Shiro remained trapped inside. A phoeb? Decaphoeb? The best gage Shiro ever got was listening to what were essentially panicked diary entries and feeling like a voyeur…about the same guy who stole his spot. And the Team still hadn’t even noticed.

But when the clone returned, he confessed that he nearly took a pod and left for good, terrified that he’d lead the Team into another Naxxela. That he’d hoped that Keith was finally ready to come home…only that by the time Matt had ran into him and coldly told him to talk to Keith, Keith had already left for the Blades again the second Lotor was placed into a solitary cell in Voltron’s custody. “Shiro” never learned why Matt insisted the two speak, and Keith continued to ignore the clones attempts to contact him.

And by proxy, neither did Shiro.

“I can’t let them trade Lotor. We’d be trading one life for another when Zarkon’s already promised to execute his own son. But Katie can’t see that this is a trap! And since when would Zarkon even keep his end of the deal? And…dammit, I want Commander-Sam-home…safe, too! I can’t lose him again!”

The clone’s phantom continued to pace across the surface, then suddenly collapsed while clutching at his skull. Thunder rumbled again as Shiro felt the Black Lion nose the clone in concern. The clone whined in pain, but slowly pushed himself back onto his feet, using what Shiro assumed was the Black Lion’s paw. Fear and exhaustion clung at his features…but to Shiro’s horror the clone’s eyes now glinted Druid Fucshia that glowed in the Void’s gloom.

“…’m fine. Zarkon can’t have you, and he can’t have Sam, and he won’t have Lotor. I won’t let him! But…I don’t know how much time I have left. I just hope I can end this war quickly before then. And I think we can trust Lotor to succeed Zarkon—it’d only be chaos if he doesn’t. But…why do I feel compelled to trust him, like that’s the only—nnnngh!”

Shiro’s eyes scanned the clone. The clone’s eyes flared brighter with Haggar’s quintessence…which meant the witch in some way was controlling him. And all Shiro could do was watch, helpless, as the clone tried to fight through what he apparently thought was just a never ending migraine. And while the clone thought he was dying but too terrified to admit it…Shiro couldn’t help but look at his doppelganger as a ticking time-bomb. One that threatened his Team and the universe itself.

Shiro had to try to reach his Team again. He hadn’t tried in some time, not since Keith vanished. But time was running out. Maybe there was something Shiro hadn’t thought of yet to get out.

.

“SHIRO!!!”

“—C’mon where are you!”

“SHIRO!!!”

“He’s not getting through.”

“Where is he?! We need him!”

Panic choked him and roared in his ears as his Team’s cries echoed through the spot where the Clone’s Phantom reside. Only…the clone was prone. Gingerly Shiro touched the phantom. The phantom clone’s head lolled back limply, fushia pouring out from underneath half-lidded eyes. The corona rapidly began to drain.

Shiro had to think fast. The clone barely had enough quintessence to form Voltron, often relying on Shiro to make up the difference whether he realized it or not. Whatever maneuver the Team was currently attempting was taking too much, leaving only Druidic Quintessence behind and outright killing him…while still not being enough to do much more than bridge the gap between Shiro and his Team.

Well, Shiro’d take it.

Shiro’s arms snaked underneath the clone’s phantom’s armpits and pulled him close—despite how transparent the clone’s quintessence-based representation was, he was surprisingly solid—and, for a lack of any better idea, fed his quintessence through the clone.

Immediately angry fucshia claws tried grabbing at him in a sea of white static, the clone’s natural purple quintessence flickering as a weak, wisping flame. Time was running out.

Shiro rushed forward, slashing at the enemy quintessence with his fist—Shiro absently noticed that it glowed indigo instead of fucshia like it had in his fight with Zarkon. Not the time. He’d ponder the meaning later. If he survived this, he’d have plenty of time either way. The claws reared back then flanked and chased from behind. Shiro made a diving roll for the clone’s quintessence, barely brushing it with his finger tips, and—

—black static swirling with deep blue surrounded pillars of purple, red, blue, yellow, and green. The pillars for the other lions shown with bright, white, blinding light. But…as his eyes adjusted he could make out other colors within the pillars themselves. Oh, the Paladins’ quintessence within the Green and Yellow pillars, but the similarities ended there. The Blue Lion’s Paladin’s quintessence was pink of all things, while the Red Lion’s Paladin was blue?

What was going on? Shiro thought the Paladins’ quintessence mirrored their Lions’. But clearly two did not.

The Blue Lion’s paladin vanished in a flash of blue, white, and pink light.

Right. No time to think. If Shiro had any chance of reaching anyone at all, it was now or never.

“Pidge! Hunk!” Shiro called out. But both Paladins with matching quintessence vanished as well.

“No! Come, on, anyone! Keith? Lance! Please one of you still be here!”

“What? Shiro?”

“Lance!” Shiro cried in relief. “Lance, you gotta listen to me!”

“What?”

But Lance vanished before Shiro could try again. “NO!!!” Shiro tried shoving more of his quintessence into…whatever this place was, desperate to follow or for another chance to reach his Team. But his own quintessence yanked him back, back through the clone’s white static, and slammed him face-first into the Black Lion’s void.

Shiro swallowed against the bitter disappointment threatening to choke him as he pushed himself back to his feet. The corona glowed faintly, but steadier than it did before he left, however briefly. The clone’s form still lay prone against the ground. Shiro slowly made his way over to him, weariness weighing down his steps as he slogged through the Void’s strange, shallow sea.

Shiro raised two fingers to check the clone’s pulse underneath his jaw…although if he was being honest with himself he wasn’t really sure the Void worked that way. Then again, the clone had a body to return to. Shiro, apparently, didn’t.

“You better not die on them,” he muttered. “They’ve already been through that once. Don’t let it be a second time.”

…probably a bit petty and hypocritical of him, Shiro admitted to himself. But the clone had something to return to, his fears be damned. And at this point Shiro was beyond simply aching to go home. Who knows. Maybe Lance heard enough to figure out how to find him. But if not, then Shiro would try with the clone the next time he visited the Black Lion.

He was tired of being alone in the dark.

#shirotember #day 2: alone #takashi shirogane #heavy angst #sensory deprivation #isolation #shiro #blacktashi #jiro shirogane #vld astral plane #is not a nice place #character question dead or living status #a lot #read more #long fic

[turtle-steverogers]

the good and the bad

hi i want bread

warnings: death uh, crying

editing: no

ship: ralbert

word count: like 2000 ish

September 23

Leaves crunched under Race’s shoes, the noise amplified by the accompanying silence.  It was warm still, the sun bleeding persistently through the trees, combated only by the few leaves that remained on the branches.  There wasn’t a clear path through the woods.  The thick underbrush made it nearly impossible to walk normally, but he persisted, trudging onward.

He wasn’t entirely sure where he was going.  He just needed to clear his head; get out of the house for a little while.  He was craving somewhere new and exotic, but his options were limited within his small hometown.

So he decided to expand his horizons within the confines of his little bubble.  Explore a little- find somewhere new and refreshing.

So when his legs carried him off of the sidewalk and into the expansive stretch of woods that surrounded his neighborhood, he resolved to trusting his instinct.  

It was a pleasant Fall day.  Entirely ideal for this sort of adventure and he smiled, feeling at ease in his afresh solitude.  The land sloped downward and the tangle of trees thinned out to reveal a small clearing.  

Yellow grass blanketed the flat land, countered only by the small clumps of flowers that were scattered at random.  The tree line seemed to create a perfect circle, sheltering the area from the outside world.  

Race had long since lost track of the sound of traffic and other clues to life, but he didn’t mind much.  He was getting what he came for.

He trailed along the edge of the clearing, coming to a halt in front of two trees.  He sat down, leaning his back against the trunk of the nearest tree and closing his eyes, allowing the sounds of nature to swallow him.

“Yo,” a voice sounded directly above him and his eyes flew open, his heart leaping into his chest as he froze.  Someone dropped out of the tree adjacent to him, sticking the landing heavily.

Race’s gaze traveled from the guy’s shoes to his face, taking note of the utterly obnoxious way he was dressed.  Despite his borderline fuckboy clothing, he was charming- attractive even.  The sun reflected flatteringly in his auburn hair and he seemed to have a permanent glint in his eyes.

The guy barked out a laugh, “Didn’t mean to scare you, sorry, but,” he raised his eyebrows, “did you just check me out?”

Race fought the smile that threatened to grow on his face, “Nah, bro, you just literally landed in my line of sight.”

The guy studied him for a moment before plopping down in front of him, crossing his legs and sticking out a hand, “‘Sup, bro, I’m Albert.”

Race allowed a small smirk to form as he took Albert’s hand, “Race.”

“Race,” Albert said, slowly, “exotic, I like it.”

“It’s not exotic,” Race countered, “It’s a nickname.”

“Even cooler,” Albert said, “So,” he leaned back, propping himself up on his forearms and stretching his legs in front of him, “what brings you to my woods?”

Race cocked his head, letting out an amused huff, “Your woods?”

“Hell yeah, man,” Albert said, throwing his head back and looking towards the sky, his hair falling behind him, “been coming to this place to catch my breath since I found it like a year ago.  No one else has ever come, so I called dibs on it.”

Race quirked an eyebrow, “How could you call dibs when no one else was around to challenge that.”

Albert furrowed his eyebrows and looked back at Race, “Uh,” he paused, “well you’re here now, so, dibs.”

September 24

“Welcome back.”

Race grinned up at Albert where he was standing on a branch right above his head.

“Couldn’t stay away?” Albert asked, sitting on the branch and reaching a hand out to help Race up.

Race floundered for a moment before settling beside Albert, dangling his legs towards the ground, “Guess I couldn’t,” he admitted, “S’nice here.”

“Sure is,” Albert said, turning to face Race and sitting back against the trunk, propping one leg on Race’s lap and letting the other swing back and forth, suspended in the air.

Race looked down at the leg on his lap, “Already on this level, huh?”

Albert laughed, lifting his leg and poking Race in the chin with his shoe.  Race yelped rearing backwards slightly and nearly losing balance.  Albert’s eyes widened and he sat up hastily, grabbing Race’s bicep before he could fall completely.

“Whoop, sorry about that,” he said, sincerely.

“You’re good,” Race said, gripping Albert’s hand to steady himself, “I’m good.”

The silence they fell into was oddly comfortable.  Although Race hadn’t known Albert for very long, but something about him felt familiar- reassuring- and as they sat in the tree, watching the sky turn from dull blue to orange, he couldn’t help but feel as if something had led him here.  A pull stronger than curiosity.

October 14

“You okay?”

Albert wasn’t in the tree when Race showed up.  Instead he was sat on the grass, knees bent in front of him.  His eyes looked oddly devoid of their usual glint and Race frowned, worry spreading through his chest.  He didn’t give any hint as to whether he’d heard Race or not and Race could see his fingers twitching as he fiddled with his watchband.

“What’s up?” he asked gently as he sat next to Albert.

Albert’s eyes flicked towards him for a moment, the only acknowledgement he’d made to his presence so far.  He didn’t answer the question directly, his shoulders shrugging somewhat uncomfortably as he spoke.

“M’not gonna be good company right now, you don’t gotta stick around.”

Race grimaced, “We don’t gotta talk about it, but I’ma stay, dude.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause I like it here, too,” Race said, “And I care about you, I don’t want you to be alone.”

Albert nodded, lowering his chin to his knees, “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“Anytime.”

The breeze around them picked up, and Race clenched his teeth to keep them from chattering.  He scooted towards Albert slightly, hoping he’d take the invitation.  To Race’s surprise, he did, tucking his head onto his shoulder and shifting closer as well.  It wasn’t much, but it provided some shield against the wind.

“We should bring a blanket out here or something,” Albert stated, “It’s getting too fucking cold.”

“It’s not that cold,” Race pointed out, “Only, like, 50 something degrees.”

“Too cold,” Albert pouted.

Race laughed, shrugging the shoulder Albert was leaning against, “Alright, buddy.”

Their breaths synced, an even rhythm echoing between them.  Race closed his eyes, allowing tranquility to envelope him.  He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, but neither of them seemed to want to move.

“My little brother is sick again,” Albert spoke softly, “And he’ll be fine, I hope, but shit in my house always gets really hectic when he gets flare ups and I just,” he sighed, moving almost impossibly closer to Race, “I wish it didn’t have to be like that.”

Race nodded, placing his hand over Albert’s and rubbing his thumb across his knuckles soothingly, “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” Albert said, trailing off for a moment before continuing, “It hurts seeing Elijah like that and I know it hurts my dad and Thomas, too.  I wish we could all just be happy and healthy.”

“You will be one day,” Race tried to console him, “One day, Elijah’s gonna beat this shit and you’ll all live long, happy, healthy lives together.”

“I hope so.”

October 31

“Broughtcha some candy, dumbass.”

Race had gotten there before Albert that day, opting to arrive early and set up the mini blanket fort under the tree they’d been plotting for ages while Albert took his brothers trick or treating.

He peeked his head out from the blanket that draped down from the lowest branch, acting as a door.  Albert was staring at the fort with wide eyes, pillowcase full of candy in hand.

“This is sick,” he breathed, snapping out of his reverie and joining Race inside.  

He’d opted out of adding a roof, content with peering upwards past the treetops where faint, twinkling stars could be seen.

“I know, I slaved on it for hours for you,” Race teased, plucking a snickers bar out of the bag and popping it in his mouth.  

“Fake,” Albert said, smiling at him.

“You’re right,” Race said through a mouthful of chocolate, “Took me like fifteen minutes.”

They laid back on the comforter that Race had laid out as the floor, pulling another blanket over themselves as they settled in.  They curled into each other, fitting together like a puzzle piece.  It felt natural, the way they melded into one another so seamlessly, a silent understanding ingrained into their souls.  

Race rested his head on Albert’s chest rolling over enough so he could still see upwards.  He could feel Albert’s heart beating beneath him.  The steady pulse grounding him and pulling him further into the earth, cementing warmth into his stomach.

He lifted his head, rolling onto his stomach and propping himself up onto one elbow.  Albert looked down at him, a silent question in his eyes.  He opened his mouth to say something, but quickly shut it, eyes flicking almost inconspicuously down to Race’s mouth.

Race leaned forward, eyes falling closed as he pressed his lips to Albert’s.  They let out simultaneous sighs, the final knot tied as they deepened the kiss.  

Neither of them pulled back for a while, losing themselves in each other.  Eventually, Race leaned away, keeping his eyes closed as he felt a smile stretch across his face.

A hand brushed his face and he opened his eyes, seeing Albert looking back at him with an awed expression.

“I love you.” Albert’s voice was a faint whisper, the words reserving themselves for only Race.

“I love you, too,” he whispered back.

November 11

Race sat and waited in the clearing, hours upon hours passing with no Albert.  Figuring he must have just been busy, Race left.

November 20

Once again, Race was left alone in the clearing.  This time, a sick feeling in his gut growing more intense as the minutes passed.  He hadn’t heard from Albert in days.  Something wasn’t right.

November 30

A month since the kiss.  Three weeks since he’d last seen Albert.  No sign from him.  No explanation.  Nothing.  

Race sat numb, back against the same tree as he stared at the sky, wishing for answers it couldn’t provide.

December 3

It was officially cold.  The real definition, not Albert’s, and as Race trekked towards where he’d discovered the other boy lived, he couldn’t stop his body from shaking.

Partly from nerves, mostly from the biting wind.

He knocked at the door, shoving his hands in his pockets as he waited.  A boy, no older than 13 answered, staring at him with quizzical eyes.

“Yes?”

“Uh, hi,” Race swallowed, the realization that he had no idea what he was going to say hitting him like a truck, “I’m a friend of Albert’s, are you Elijah?”

The boy shook his head, “Nah, Thomas.”

“Right, sorry,” Race said, “uh, nice to meet you, is Al home?”

Something in the boy’s face changed and his eyes grew cold as he answered, “He’s not here anymore.”

The world seemed to muffle and Race shook his head, confused, “What do you mean?”

The boy blew a breath out through his nose and he looked to the side, “I mean,” he looked back at Race, eyes glistening, “He’s not here anymore.  Freak football accident.  You’re his friend, didn’t you hear about it?”

But Race couldn’t hear anything anymore.  He distantly heard himself thank Thomas and turned away before the door closed.  The world was spinning as he walked.  He couldn’t hear his footsteps, or the sounds of the street, or his own thoughts as he walked on autopilot to the place he’d grown so used to visiting.

The clearing seemed darker than it had been before, less welcoming and entirely unfamiliar.

The blanket fort was still up.  He hadn’t bothered to take it down.  Besides, Albert and him had planned to use it more.  One of the blankets blew in the wind, falling unceremoniously from the tree.  

It seemed to wilt along with the rest of the place.  Even the trees had lost their charm.

Race became acutely aware of the tears that stained his cheeks.  He only just remembered to breathe as sobs forced their way out of his stomach in painful waves.  

He didn’t remember walking to the fort, or taking down the blankets, attempting to fold them nicely, but giving up halfway through and discarding them with an angry shout.

He wished he’d never come here.  He wished that he’d stayed painfully oblivious to the beautiful clearing and the beautiful boy it had brought with it.

But he was cursed with the fate of meeting Albert.  Cursed with the fate of falling in love with him.

Doomed with the fate of losing him.

He sat down heavily on one of the blankets, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.  Eventually he stood back up, crossing to their tree and clambering onto their branch.  He struggled to stay balanced.  Albert was usually there to help him stay on.

As his tears ebbed away, leaving him empty and hopeless, the life of the forest seemed to rush back to him.

Animals were still traipsing.  Wind was still blowing through the trees.  Life was still going.

But he was gone without him.

-

maybe i should write some Not Angst next, thoughts?

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

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#newsies fic #newsies #ralbert #racetrack higgins #albert dasilva #chaotic boys #chaotic sad boys #yikes #adlskfjsdl

[n0tenough4you]

Letter to someone who recently came into my life after nine years

The dictionary has over 1 million words, and there are infinite combinations of those words that i could say to you. A limitless algorithm, some words less well matched and others will slide perfectly into place. There is however a limit to the words I can say to you in this letter, and honestly I don’t feel that there are enough words to get across what i am trying to say. So many combinations, so many ways to try to say what is going through my head and so i write another draft and the words don’t fit. They are not in the right order; and so another letter is discarded and I fall asleep trying again the next day to scramble this internal dictionary in a way which will have the least painful ramifications and the truth is I think its a near impossible task. At the end of this, someone is going to be hurt, someone is going to end up with a hole in their chest and is it not jus  so selfish of me to pray that I am the one who leaves whole? and so there goes another draft and I am slowing peeling apart the layers to try to speak from a place that is not covered in the black tar of depression which i seem to be swimming in a lot. I am trying to write with words that plant seeds of happiness and flower in the most comforting way. So far all I seem to be doing is tying nots with metaphors and tripping over them in the natural rhythm of my writing. I know it can be confusing to understand but please i am trying to make my thoughts clear. But they are sand and the innumberability and infinity of them is rather overwhealming.

At the end of it all, when I close my eyes and think of our time together it is as soft as petals and as sweet at the most intoxicating perfume. It is not mine, your time is not mine and you are not mine. You belong to someone else.

We all want security, to feel safe, we need stability and consistency. It is an innate desire which is shared by all humans and trust. I trust you to make the right choice and to think with your head rather than that thing in your chest. In one year we will be different people, with different lives, in two  years the patchwork of ourselves will have expanded beyond our current horizons and in 7 years each cell in our body shall be replaced and fit into a mold left behind by who we used to be yet we are not the same. The grooves of day to day life will have altered us and in 7 years 2,557 grooves will have changed our true selves a lot

Nine years is a lot of change and it was so comforting to see the same spark of life that drew me to you all those years ago. Nine years is a combination of 3287 days, 78,888 hours and 283,996,800 seconds and somewhere in all those numbers I see the same smile I did before and that real was a ray of sunshine in my life, so thank you. To think that in 3287 days I was somewhere in your head, Girl in the back of your mind, maybe not always consciously but still to be thought of means so much.

“The best feeling in the world is knowing your presence and absence both mean something to someone.”

Unknown

But maybe that is better? Maybe to remain in a box in the attic of your brain is a safe space and something that is easier to deal with. You have a plan, you may have doubts but all the best people doubt themselves and it is so natural. You will stay with what is safe, you will move in with this woman who you love who has been there physically for three years. Throwing all of this away for someone who you haven’t known since a child is ridiculous. I will forgive the wound in my chest and never forget the flowers of our time together. I will wish you nothing but happiness.

“Wherever I go, I will speak of you with love”

Clive Barker, The Thief of Always

Loosing me, I know it isn’t what you want. You care so much for me and i for you. I am not lost, I will continue to  be and to grow, to be me. I shall continue to live and blossom. I just won’t be in your bubble, so to speak. At the moment I am shipwrecked in this isolated state of absence and trying to fill the void with tangible substances. I am sewing myself a blanket of metaphors and grasping at others words to help me understand the path still so ambitious in front of me. I am tripping over the right choices and trying not to fall into bad decisions and maybe one day I shall find happiness and a way of live that feels like the small infinities I share with those I love before i return to my island.You are so lucky, to have two people who love you and a path to walk. You may doubt it, but you are so lucky. We collided in the most beautiful way but it is over. We left physically unscathed, and the wounds in our hearts will turn to scares and make up the fabric of our new selves.

Maybe  in five years, 8 years or 10 years we can see each other again, but I wouldn’t hold onto it. As it currently stands I don’t feel that I can be just friends, I can’t be in your life and not feel pain as I watch you with someone else. I don’t know if that will change but I feel something between us.

do you feel that? the cackling energy in the space between our fingertips as if the universe is begging for us to touch

Edgar Holmes, Her Favorite Color Was Yellow <https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36660045-her-favorite-color-was-yellow>

I have little experience with love, loss however is an old friend and a constant companion. Like I said before, I sit in this , the only constant I can have is myself. I can pulls myself through this tar surrounding my head, I can sail the ship across the ocean and find happiness. I do what i want so to speak.

Hope is dangerous, as is optimism, coming from someone who wears her heart proudly exposed for people to break I can tell you that no matter how many times hope is swept from under your feet and you are left with the pieces of youself shattered around you it never gets easier. In the end you become accustomed with the emotions and a stronger person emerges. I doubt that i will ever lock my heart away and refuse to allow anyone in. I probably should, it would save me from pain but when you lie to yourself you refuse to allow yourself to feel the good as well as the bad. If i had been closed to love i never would have found it within you and I don’t know who I would be right now if you hadn’t taken my hand and pulled me out from my tar and danced with me in the sunshine. I don’t know if I would have lines under my eyes from smiling or if the world would have looked so beautiful without the rose tinted glasses of your companionship.

Friendship:

“In your entire life, you can probably count your true friends on one hand. Maybe even on one finger. Those are the friends you need to cherish, and I wouldn’t trade one of them for a hundred of the other kind. I’d rather be completely alone than with a bunch of people who aren’t real. People who are just passing time.”

Sarah Ockler,  Fixing Delilah

I feel as though if i were to stay in your life I wouldn’t feel real. I would be passing time and caught in a web of hope, craving your hand in mine and that is not honest. I am still getting through each day, taking each second as it comes and fighting through a cloud of tar to embrace and love each moment [Carpe diem] I am sizing the moment, but you, you need to seize the future because I have 100% certainty that yours is going to be spectacular.

In summery

•You should choose your girlfriend

•I have a long way to go before I can be in your life

•Maybe our stories will cross again but don’t hold onto that

•be happy

•????

I hope that you read this and that the combination of words makes sense this time. I hope that i got it right. I hope that you hold my words in your chest and that you never think badly of the girl in the back of your head and know that she forgives you for putting her in a box and ignoring her while you push through reality.  I hope that the boy in my head (you) will forgive me for boxing him away and allow me to continue navigating my way to somewhere happier.

[egoiistas]

Your story “it’s theirs” was just so so so beautiful. I was wondering if you where considering expanding on it and maybe telling the story of Riza telling Roy she is expecting? Would love to see your take on it, if it’s something you would entertain. Thank you for your beautiful work ❤️

it’s theirs

YES. ALWAYS YES. ALSO THANK YOU ❤️❤️❤️ AND THANK YOU B-GRIVEROS FOR DRAWING FROM THIS DFJKSNDFKRated: K+ Words: ~1200 

On the third anniversary of Grumman’s administration, the late spring congratulated the Fuhrer with breezy weather just as it did the first year when Amestris dusted itself off at the knees following the Promised Day. The man’s ethos had not been lost with his youth. In fact, Roy would say the very same, ambitious, young man spoke and captivated the audience with his speech – rather than codger with a cane haunting Central Headquarters. The attendants laughed, they cried and stared off fondly into the distance over a heartfelt phrase. Roy might’ve wanted and waited and risked his life for this position, but he imagined the geriatric military man waited much longer.

“I’m expecting.”

With his attention focused elsewhere, he almost missed the Captain’s comment; it was delicately said and soft. He presumed deliberately quiet for discretion so he leaned in towards her to answer. “For him to retire soon? Me too.”

“No,” she said pointedly.

Cluelessly, he continued her guessing game. “Expecting rain? A letter?” Someone shushed him from the row behind him. Roy ignored them, turning to her before comprehension connected the dots. She held her gaze straight ahead; the sun’s light picking up golden flecks from adamant brown eyes. Her face gave no indication she’d said anything. She shook her head. “Then are you going to finish that sentence?”

Riza pushed air through her nose. The muscles on her neck turned taut as she swallowed.  For a brief second, there was a subtle tremble in her eyes like she was trying to avoid eye contact with him. She wasn’t. She glanced at him for an even quicker second.  In that cursory glance, an unprecedented amalgam of unease, concern and apprehension spilled out of her like a torrential surge. Her throat cleared and she straightened in her seat. “No, sir, I’m-”

The applause snatched away the rest of the words. He didn’t need them. She stood. The rest of his row stood in congratulatory ovation and he sat with his mouth slightly agape. Riza tapped his shoulder, because more is expected from a newly promoted General. However, the blood drained from his face when he lifted himself off his chair. He clapped slowly, staring into the distance from the acute shock. He managed, “When did you-”

“Today. Right before the ceremony.”

“And you tell me now?”

“Less likely for you to make a scene.”

“How about breaking the news privately?”

“You still would’ve made a scene.”

He scoffed and held back the words sitting on his tongue because she was right. There was little he could say and he was limited in how he could react. She’d chosen the perfect time. Bodies began to move, emptying out from their seats. “We need to talk about this.”

“Now’s not the time.”

“Now’s precisely the time.” The Captain protests were muted when his hand guided her by the small of her back through the crowd. Roy humorously made excuses to the curious guests that his adjutant was merely ill from the heat and her flushed face assisted him with that ruse. The maze-like corridors were no adversary of his; he’d frequented the Fuhrer’s personal estate enough to know his way around to an unoccupied room. He shut the door behind him and stared at the gilded door knob, holding it for support more than he realized.

“I ask that you think about this.”

Roy sighed with enough force to feel it through the back of his gloved hand. “I’m sorry this happened.”

Silence lingered over them and he felt a thousand thoughts screaming at him all at once.

“That’s not- I don’t need you to apologize. This happened because of something we both chose to do.” A Hawkeye answer if he ever heard one. A well disguised one if he didn’t know better.

Riza Hawkeye was nervous and it almost stole him of breath. Tearing himself away from the door, he sailed towards her. She stood in her own island in the middle of this ornate parlour room, and she stared at the intricately patterned carpet as if the swirls were waves hitting her feet. Her fingers fidgeted with each other; an idiosyncrasy of hers tucked away and dormant for fifteen years. Her gaze refused to meet his even as his hands offered refuge from that weight along her jaw. That she was not alone in this. “How do you feel about this?”

“Strangely new and…” he could hear the strength in her voice, like her confidence, taper down to a whisper.  “Terrified.”

“Why are you terrified?” He asked softly.

She took her time to look at him and the war veteran sniper, the paragon of military officers, the trusted bodyguard, disappeared from sight. In her place, he saw a younger woman, an alchemist’s daughter in trouble.

Her eyebrows twitched together and she frowned. “Why aren’t you?”

Roy opened his mouth thinking he knew the answer. Because he loved her. Because she loved him. Because this is how things were supposed to be in the past. Because this was long awaited and creating something of their love would be the final testament that he will not be separated from her. He closed it because he was scared. Bubbling, as always, to the forefront, he knew something like this could endanger their livelihood and erase all they’ve worked for at great expense – easily, like footprints in the desert. Fraternizing in the shadows was one ordeal, creating a kid was another.

Except, to turn his back on this would undo something greater but self-serving at its root, and incredibly painful altogether to live without. The toll of what her loss would cost shook him to his very core during Promised Day, realizing he ignorantly took each day for granted, that her life was tethered to his. He had never felt blinder with sight.

Now, he felt like the world was new again like daybreak crowning over the horizon, brighter than the day he regained his sight. This time, it wasn’t in his visions of his ambitions flourishing from his mind but, what he can only assume, a clump of cleverly conjoined cells in her womb, probably no bigger than a sweet pea. His sweet pea.

However, it hung in the balance, as heavily in the air as in his chest. Roy sighed again, breaking away from her eyes, and his hands slid over her collars to her shoulders, then to her sleeves where he felt the rigidity of her tense arms. They could be in doubt about themselves for the rest of their lives, but one thing was clear: “You’re carrying our child, Riza.”

Her frown deepened, this time angrier than scared, something she defaulted to at times. “There’s more to this than just emotions. I think we should really consider–”

Roy interrupted her with a tilt of her chin and a chaste kiss where he lingered over her lips longer than the actual kiss. Then, he held her close, uncaring that her hands were still in front of her making the buttons of his uniform poke uncomfortably into his skin. He held her with hands tucking her head into his shoulder, fastened her to him as a simple man trying to preserve a memory.

She, too, hugged him fiercely after he murmured, “Whatever we decide, we can let ourselves have this moment.”

#royai #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #royai fanfiction #me: will always jump at pregnant riza prompts #okay not exclusively those but i'm weak for these #also i tried not to go too far into it #hopefully its cohesive since i am at work like a naughty girl eating leftover pizza #kdfjshdfjksdfhsjkdfh #fma #roy x riza #roy mustang x riza hawkeye #*shine #not happy with the first line but yolo

[micahrodney]

Thread; Chapter 3 - Over The River

The following is a commission for Matthew Caveat Zealot.  Neil screamed, and started forward.  His head collided with something hard, but it wasn't his claustrophobia-inducing ceiling. As the foam-padded leather made contact with his face, he realized he was no longer in bed.  The young man was sitting upright, belted into the rear passenger seat of his father's Plymouth Voyager.  

“Whoa-” Neil's father cried in response, nearly losing control of the vehicle.  “Are you okay?”

Taking stock of his new reality required some mental recalibration.  Last he remembered was spending the evening with Damian.  The people-pleasing and worldly youth had been attempting to get Neil to broaden his horizons – and more relevantly his palate – by eating some chicken dish called Tom Kha Gai.  Afterwards they went back to Neil's place and may have had a bit to drink.  He vaguely recalled getting a voicemail from his father.  His dreams were vast and vivid, but as he tried to scrape together the scattered fragments of his vision they faded away.  More importantly was the rather noticeable gap in events.  

Neil took a deep breath as his father began to steer the vehicle towards the side of the highway. The digital clock above the tape deck read 5:45 PM. A large highway sign revealed that they were just 60 miles outside of St. Clair, Michigan.  They were 300 miles from his dorm room.  

To his left was his sister, Dawn. She was the younger of his two sisters, but she still had two years on him.  While the older sister, Kim, had been the spitting image of their mother, Dawn looked more like their father.  Her hair was naturally chestnut brown, though it was presently dyed black with electric yellow streaks, the better to match her grunge aesthetic. Dawn's usual attire was comprised of leather jackets and jeans, though she was wearing black sweats for the road trip.  

Occupying the passenger seat, into which Neil had just rammed his head, was his brother Travis. His beard seemed to have grown two inches since they had last spoken.  The boisterous one in the family was oddly quiet today, wearing a plain forest green sweater.   This was also a far cry from his Hawaiian shirt obsession.  

“Neil?” His father asked, after putting the car in park on the shoulder. “You good?”  

“I'm sorry, I just had a nightmare I think,” Neil explained. Maybe he was still having a nightmare.

That, or he had somehow lost several days of his life. They were on their way to his mother's memorial, which meant he had somehow fast-forwarded his life by about three days.  Which begged the question:  how the hell did that happen and why could he not remember any of it?  

“It's a nice change of pace, dude,” Dawn said, her attention split between her Gameboy, Walkman and the stick of gum she was chewing on. “Honestly you've been kind of a zombie since we picked you up.”

“Oh yeah, says the Borg,” Travis teased.  

“Don't hate my tech.  It makes the real world way more bearable,” Dawn retorted, resting her temporarily-misplaced headphone back over her ear.  

Neil took special notice of the word 'zombie' and decided to expand on that thought. “Have I been acting weirdly?”  

“I mean I figured you were just sad because of... you know,” Travis gestured towards the others in the car.  

It had to be especially hard for him, now sitting in the spot where their mother had for most of their lives, until the accident.  Three years had passed by in a miserable blink.  What were three days in the grand scheme of things?

“This is gonna sound weird,” Neil began, and that was putting it mildly. How exactly did one ask the question he was going to ask?  

“That would be a first,” Dawn quipped sarcastically.  Clearly The Smashing Pumpkins were not excluding her from the conversation.  

The proud patriarch Kevin Brown turned to Neil and gave him that same kind and understanding gaze that he always did.  His gentle eyes, that distinctive cleft in his chin, and a soft smile that won over even his mother. Neil could trust this man, out-of-touch as he was, with anything.  

“What day is it?” Neil asked.  

“Neil, you're scaring me now.  Are you okay?”

“Dad, please.  What day?”  Neil insisted.  

“It's Friday.  We picked you up from your dorm this morning,” Kevin said. “Neil... you're not on drugs are you?”  

“No, dad it's not like that,” Neil scoffed.  “I just-  I don't know, I haven't been sleeping right lately and everything is all... hazy.”

“Dude, it's dad.  If you're on something he won't get mad at-”

“I'm not on anything!” Neil shouted.  The confusion had devolved into frustration and Travis's well-intentioned comment was doing nothing to abate it. “Just because you fucked up your scholarship-”

“Hey!” Kevin interjected soothingly, reaching back to place a bracing hand on his shoulder.  “Easy now, there's no need to go off on your brother like that.”

Travis had turned back to face the road.  A few cars passed them, one even blaring on its horn unhelpfully.  Dawn popped a bubble between her teeth.  

“Now listen, son. If you say you're not, then you're not.  I trust you completely,” Kevin said.  “We'll take you to a hospital when we get to St. Clair and have the doctor check you out, okay?”  

“A hospital,” Neil nodded.  “Yeah, that's probably a good idea.”  

“Maybe they'll put you in a straitjacket,” Dawn smirked.  

There was no malice behind the comment.  Underneath the would-be nihilist's harsh exterior was a tiny grain of affection for her family, especially her younger brother.  This was her twisted way of trying to calm him down and make him feel at home.  And, oddly, it was working.  

“Sorry, Travis,” Neil said.  “I'm just really... I don't know.”

“You don't have to apologize,” Travis said, still not turning around. “It's a hard time for all of us.”  

He had the biggest heart of any of them, but it was also the most easily wounded.  When they were younger, Neil had been intensely jealous of the theater kid brother of his.  He was the center of attention, and by a wide margin the “favorite” child of their father.  As a result, the two boys fought constantly and viciously.  

Things only started to change when Travis left for college and started to mature.  But with the maturing mind came evolving tastes. He was a self-described “party animal”.  And one night he had partied too hard on the wrong side of LA.  Within a few weeks he was absent to all of his classes, and a no-call no-show termination at work.  

They found him on the UCLA campus between two bushes.  It had taken a lot of work, but their father had managed to turn a five-year jail sentence into two months of rehabilitation.  Being a lawyer's son had its perks.  The true penalty was the loss of his football scholarship.  That and the expression on their mother's face when he confessed to her he was an addict.  

Neil regretted his words now.  Apart from being the one big taboo in the otherwise accepting family, making such a cheap shot at his brother made him feel unclean.  When Neil had first found out, he was a little too keen to finally have something to one-up the perfect son with.  Teenage hormones were no help, and he hadn't developed a proper sense of empathy yet.  

“There but for the grace of God go you,” their mother would always tell Neil.  

That was bullshit as far as Neil was concerned, in the infinite wisdom of a adolescent.  He was better than Travis.  He was smarter. He didn't fall into the stupid obvious traps that all drug users did.  The mandatory D.A.R.E. Program had done a number on his concept of nuance.  But even as Neil railed on his brother, all their parents could do was just shake their heads with a mixture of disappointment and sad amusement.  

Disappointment.  That was a potent word. And that's what Neil felt like:  The family disappointment.  In spite of Dawn's fashion sense, Travis's past, and Kim's taste in men, Neil was the one who didn't fit in.  And it was nobody's fault but his own.  

---

St. Clair, Michigan was the homestead of their mother.  It was as far removed from Voxton as you could be.  The scenic town was nestled in the isthmus between Lake Erie and Lake Huron.  It was founded along the St. Clair River which flowed somewhat unimaginatively into Lake St. Clair.  

The river was one of the geographical borders which marked the edge of the continental United States.  Across the river to the east was Canada, should one feel inclined to attempt a crossing in the frigid waters.   Neil had only been here a few times in his life, and never while his mother was alive.  For some reason it was her dying wish to be interred in the family plot a few miles up-river, but she'd never expressed any interest in visiting the place.  

This was their fourth trip to the charming post-card worthy dell, where every street corner looked ripe for a postcard and every citizen seemed to come straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting. The skies were blue, the horizon dotted with lighthouses and the only noise was the sound of motorboats gently cruising down the river.

“How are you feeling, Neil?” His father asked, when they parked the car outside their hotel.  While Kevin Brown dressed to the nines when he was with clients or in court, he preferred a casual look; khaki's with a crimson-and-grey striped cardigan.  

“I think I'm okay for right now.  Still a little fuzzy on the past few days,” he replied.  

Fuzzy, but details were coming back to him.  It was rather odd, more like he was recalling an episode of a television show which he'd fallen asleep during.  He seemed to have some vague idea of stumbling  to his classes for the week, but there was something hollow and robotic about the memories.  They had no spark to them, no authenticity.  It was like he was on auto-pilot, which may have very well have been the case.

For a moment he did consider the possibility that he had been drugged.  But the only people he had been with in the past week were Damian and his classmates, none of whom had the means or motive to do so.

“We'll have a doctor check you out anyway,” Kevin said, in the way that brokered no argument.  “There's a nice new facility just south of here in East China.  Only opened up a couple years ago.”  

Modernity was Kevin Brown's sole rubric for quality.  

“Daddy!” Came an overeager feminine voice from the opposite end of the parking lot.  

Kim, the oldest child, was eternally dressed like was late for a board meeting.  Straight out of the 80s with a shoulder-padded salmon pantsuit and her dyed-blonde hair in a perm that framed her slightly chubby face.  She had come a long way from the auburn-haired teen in overall's Neil had a vague memory of from his childhood.

She was tailed by her current boyfriend, a middle-aged trucker who chose to mark this momentous occasion by putting his least-stained plaid shirt.  The corners of his stubbled mouth were still dripping with chewing tobacco residue.  

“Honey!” Kevin said, embracing his daughter.  “And this must be uh...”

After disentangling herself from her father, Kim lifted a hand gesturing vaguely in the direction of the gentleman.  “This is Rocky.”

“Pleased to meet ya, sir,” said the trucker, taking Kevin's hand.  

“Uh, likewise Rocky,” Kevin replied, shaking it hesitantly.  He was presently engaged in trying to calculate the staggeringly narrow age-difference between him and the man now dating his first child.  

“Guys how are you all!” Kim said, pulling all of them in a group hug.  

Only Travis truly returned the hug.  Neil was trying not to suffocate under the noxious fumes of whatever perfume she was wearing, and Dawn with her slender frame had managed to slip out of the grasp entirely.

“Glad to see you haven't changed, sis,” Travis teased. “Still pushing papers?”

“Papers nothing, little bro.  Real estate has never been this good.  You know I don't know what that guy in the White House is doing right now, but if keeps it up, I'm gonna be filthy rich,” Kim laughed in a way that she surely thought was musical.  

“Maybe you can buy some clothes that come in colors  that don't belong in an old folk's home,” Dawn remarked, her attention somehow still fixed on the Gameboy which should surely have been running out of battery by now.  

“Oh you,” Kim sighed, giving Dawn her own special hug.  A sour-sounding electronic chirp seemed to indicate the gesture had cost Dawn a life. “I love your hair!  I bet this is such a fun time in your life.”

That was the saccharine-sweet way of saying “this is just a phase”. There was definitely a wide line between the two older children and the two younger.  Travis had been made humble by his fall from grace. Had he not, he would have turned out exactly like Kim.  Brimming with sunshine and not a drop of it genuine.

“So,” Kevin said, cutting in.  “The ceremony begins at noon tomorrow.  We have to run Neil to the hospital real quick.”

Kim let out a dramatic gasp.  “Oh no!  What's wrong, little man?”

“It's nothing big,” Neil replied, dodging another attempted hug.  “And it's kind of a private matter.”

Kevin caught the comment and nodded his approval.  “Dawn, Travis are you two going to be okay here at the hotel by yourself?”

Dawn nodded and began walking towards the hotel.  If she had enough AA batteries, she could have survived in a cardboard box.  

“I think we'll be okay, Pops,” Travis said.  “I hope you feel better, Neil.”  

Neil patted Travis's shoulder in a conciliatory way, and the two parted.  He was unable to dodge the second attempt at a hug from Kim, who pushed her head into his shoulder, even though she had to lean down slightly to do it.  

“Feel better, buddy!”  

“Thank you, Kim,” Neil grunted, more than a little embarrassed.

---

The doctor's visit was about what could be expected.  There was nothing wrong with his brain, according to a CAT scan and an MRI.  Kevin Brown's money always did the talking about both procedures were tackled over a five-hour period, despite a warning from the doctor of potential complications with the readings.  

His father was brilliant and humble, but he knew exactly how to get what he wanted. To benefit his children he would go to any lengths.  After Neil had been poked, prodded and had an unseemly collection of fluids removed from and added to his body, the final diagnosis was remarkably unhelpful.  

“Stress-induced narcolepsy?” Kevin asked.  “My son wasn't asleep, he just doesn't remember anything.”  

“That's the best conclusion we have right now.  Some patients with narcolepsy can also experience somnambulism; sleep-walking.  It's uncommon, but it has happened,” replied the stoic, but clearly annoyed Dr. Faust.

“I just,” Kevin sighed in frustration. “I don't understand.”    

“Sir, your son's brain chemistry is fine,” Dr. Faust explained. “Apart from a little sleep deprivation his scans are perfectly normal. Furthermore the toxicology reports show a clean bill of health.  Only that came back was a little bit of underage drinking.  It's not drugs, it's not some form of mental disorder.  The truth is, sir, I don't know what happened to your son.  The best thing we can do is keep an eye on him and if he has another attack like that, bring him right in so we can examine him.”  

“This is unbelievable,” Kevin fumed, his docile nature slowly ebbing away from stress.

“It's okay, Dad,” Neil said, placing a hand on his father's shoulder. “Let's just go, it's midnight and we have the memorial tomorrow.”

Kevin was willing to stay there all night if he had to, but Neil's pleading had worked. He put his jacket back on, without bothering to roll up his sleeves and straightened his tie.  Ever requiring the last word, he turned back to Faust.

“I hope you're right, Doc,” Kevin declared.  “Come on, Neil.”  

#writing #commission #shortfic #cosmichorror #scifi #sliceoflife #fiction #serial #thread

[randomfandomimagine]

Sunshine in the Moonlight. Chapter 10: Unknown Feelings

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Pairing: Prompto x Alexandria (OC)

Previous Chapter - Chapter Index - Next Chapter

Wattpad - AO3

It had been quite an odyssey, but we were safe and sound. Stranded, as we lost track of the Regalia amongst the commotion, but alive. So there we were, camping in a caravan in the middle of nowhere.

I had been extremely quiet ever since then. Too many things had happened that I couldn’t get out of my mind. I felt confused and anxious, bothersome and helpless.

Faced with a twist in reality, I had grown thoughtful and pensive. Was I really so arrogant to believe that I could go from a civilian advisor to a Crownsguard wannabe in merely a few days? With so little training and knowledge on the art of fighting?

My pride meant nothing if I didn’t show my value, if I had to constantly depend on others no matter what. Like I depended on my friends, like I indirectly depended on Ardyn when I had to resign myself and go so we would be saved from the battleground after our battle with Titan. I needed to make myself stronger, to expand my horizons and learn more fighting skills. Perhaps master wielding other weapons, new techniques and movements. I needed to do something to end this endless cycle of self-pity and apathy that had moved me these few days. It wasn’t fair for the boys to have to put up with me in such a state. No matter how much I enjoyed their company and friendship, a part of me wanted to flee far away from there. Distance myself to gain a new perspective, perhaps a new strength.

Thinking back to how vulnerable I felt, with a twisted ankle and no way to defend myself while my friends fought for their lives… it made me want to scream. Not because I was too proud to admit that they had seen me like that, but because I wasn’t content with myself. How could I, when I was reduced to a mere spectator while they fought? When I should have been there to help them? I couldn’t continue the journey with them until I was stronger, both physically and mentally. Perhaps emotionally as well. Until I left all puerile and selfish impulses back.

My mission was to help Noctis, even if I was still with friends. Despite it all, Noct was still King Regis’ son. Even if I could forget it because of how casual and fun my friend could be, he was still destined to be king.

I promised myself that I would stop subduing myself to that kind of pressure, yet the old Alexandria was resurging. The grave and tense Alexandria whose only duty was that to the crown. Now it wasn’t only that, however. I had a duty to myself, to my friends. I was devoted to improve in order to be comfortable in my own skin, in order to be able to help them.

All those deep thoughts vanished as soon as a hand heavily fell on my shoulder.

“How’s your ankle doing?” Gladio’s deep voice brought me back to reality, to the outside of the caravan we were going to sleep in. To the darkness of the night.

“Alright” I replied, a bit upset at him still.

Although cooled down a tad, things had still been somewhat tense between us two ever since then. He knew he had said some hurtful things and behaved impulsively. I too, had been pigheaded and proud. Nonetheless, I had expected Gladiolus to apologize. To tell me that he didn’t expect me to fight like they did because I wasn’t a trained Crownsguard like they were. Yet he never did.

Perhaps I was too used to Ignis’ gentle treatment and Gladiolus’ stubbornness was unfamiliar to me. Perhaps he was right. In any case, I would accept his apologies and smile at him if he said the words. But he didn’t. It might have been that he was also expecting me to apologize, although I saw no reason why I should. Unlike him, I hadn’t hurt his feelings.

“I’m gonna crash” He nodded towards the caravan where Noctis and Prompto already were sleeping in. “You two don’t stay up too late”

I nodded as my glance was directed to Ignis, sitting across from me in the white plastic chairs that were displayed in the open. Sensing this, his green eyes fell on me as well. I stared, knowing he would say something. He had been far too patient with my silence and apathy, it was about time he confronted me about it.

“You can’t sulk forever, Alexandria” His tone was surprisingly grave and severe.

“I know” I replied before he could kept talking. “I’m trying”

Ignis sighed in response, incapable of maintaining that authoritarian and stern exterior. Just like with Noct, he was too soft to act like Gladio did sometimes.

“Would you like to share something with me?” He leaned forward in his chair, attentive and open to any confessions I may have to make.

“If you don’t mind, I prefer not to dwell on it” I averted my gaze in shame. “I will solve it in my own time”

I clenched my jaw, determined to get over it once and for all. On my own. I was determined, I sought all courage within me to keep me going by replacing all that remorse.

“Don’t forget” Ignis paused, standing up and resting his hand atop of mine. “That you can always speak to any of us about any matter”

“I know” I replied, forcing a sad smile. “Thanks, Iggy”

My friend nodded solemnly before getting in the caravan himself. Once left alone, I heaved a big sigh.

Although I kept breaking the promises I made myself, I tried it once more with another one. I told myself that, starting tomorrow, I would fight to achieve my goal. I would be led by courage and determination to get better and stronger.

Slightly resigned and exhausted, I walked into the caravan and lied down in my shared bed. I tried not to wake Prompto up as I positioned myself next to him. Reminding me that my physical weakness wasn’t my only concern, a strange feeling took over me as I admired his sleeping form.

If it weren’t because his argument that ‘the smaller ones of us need to share’ because there were only four beds when he distributed the sleeping arrangements, I would believe that Ignis also knew my feelings for Prompto, despite the fact that I couldn’t explain them myself.

Tearing my gaze away from his peaceful expression, I lied down on my back and blankly observed the roof. In spite of my tiredness, it felt impossible to fall asleep with so many thoughts on my mind.

Making the bed bounce slightly, Prompto stirred and yawned. He was awake.

“Did I wake you?” I whispered, not wanting to disturb the others.

“Nah” Even though he seemed very sleepy, he adapted a casual attitude. ”Can’t sleep”

“Neither can I”

“Got too many things on your mind, huh?”

“Precisely”

Prompto appeared pensive as he grew silent for several seconds.

“Is it about the fight with Titan?” His words caused me to lock eyes with him, bewildered.

“I…” Shying away from his gaze, I kept my eyes glued to the ceiling. “I don’t want to talk about it”

“Oh… Sorry that I brought it up” Awkwardly, he shifted so he lied on his back as well.

The feeling of his arm resting against mine distracted me, as we were stuck together in a one person bed.

“It’s alright” I forced myself to say, screaming internally at the strange effect he had on me.

“If there’s… anything I can do to make you feel better…” Prompto dared to say after another short hesitant silence.

“Actually, there is” I piped up, somewhat cheery when I was struck by a brilliant idea.

“Shoot!” He encouraged me, nodding with enthusiasm.

“That’s what I want”

“Huh?”

“I want to learn how to shoot” It would make me feel like I could protect my friends along with myself, making me feel more capable and useful. Besides, I liked the idea of being taught by Prompto. Who better to teach me than him?

“Oh!”

“Would you teach me, Prompto?”

“Sure thing!” To my surprise, he sat up. “You’ll probably do better with a long distance weapon!”

During the time we had been stuck in that place, Prompto had tried to encourage me with excuses as such. Saying I wasn’t as efficient as usual during our encounter with the Archaean because of my sprained ankle, or because of the heat and tremors. Mostly because of the fact that ‘Titan’s huge, c’mon! Have you seen that thing, Alex?! Don’t beat yourself up!’, which was his most recurrent phrase on the subject.

It usually didn’t have the desired effect as it only reminded me of my failure. Of the fact that I wasn’t good enough, which in turn flustered him and rendered him a mumbling mess as he attempted to correct himself and praise my fighting abilities instead.

The silence became louder as I stared at him in his sitting position, wondering what was going through his head. After a comedic pause, he sighed and looked at me.

“We can’t do it now, can we?” He chuckled, plopping back down into a lying position and turning his head to me. I shook my head at him, secretly amused.

“Enough already!” Gladiolus hissed in a monotone voice. “I can’t sleep with you two mumbling”

Noctis’ soft snores comically filled the noiseless moment until Ignis spoke up. Our royal friend was not bothered by Prompto and me talking in the middle of the night.

“It is quite late” Iggy said too, clearly irritated. “We should get some rest”

“Sorry!” The blond quickly lied on his side, ruining any possible further conversation. I smiled to myself as I did the same, facing his back and cuddling over myself.

The fact that it was the first time I smiled in days thanks to him was a reminder that I needed to analyze my own feelings concerning him. They appeared to be irrational and erratic to me. Those complicated thoughts were what lulled me to sleep.

“Alex” A gentle voice called me, along with a hand softly shaking my shoulder. I groaned sleepily, too comfortable and cozy to comply.

“Five more minutes, Iggy, please” I turned my back to him and tried to get some more sleep.

I could hear the birds chirping and feel the sun sneaking in through the window. It had to be early in the morning.

“C’mon, sleepyhead!” It wasn’t Ignis, the voice belonged to a certain bubbly blond. “You’re gonna learn how to shoot a gun!”

I opened one eye and was welcomed with a pair of very bright and vibrant blue eyes that I was familiar with. They sparked with friendliness when they locked with mine.

“Mornin’!”

“What time is it, Prompto?”

“Pretty early, but we gotta do it before we leave”

I rubbed my eyes and stirred in my spot, not really wanting to oblige. The laziness was taking over me. Besides, I didn’t rest well as I had an uneasy sleep.

“Get up already!” He chuckled, taking my arm and pulling me into a sitting position. “We don’t need another Noct!”

I couldn’t help but to chuckle at his callback, which made him laugh again as well.

“Alright, I’m up” I gave in, still trying to sober up.

“Wait for you outside!” Prompto excitedly ran into the open.

I shook my head, fondly thinking about that goofy and adorable boy. He was like our personal ray of sunshine. It was cute how he remembered my petition and was willing to go through with it.

Only that was enough to help me brighten up from my usual emotionless state from the past few days. It gave me strength to go forwards with the promise I made myself.

After taking a few seconds to completely wake up, I left a sleeping Noctis and Gladio to meet with Prompto outside. I imagined Ignis was already awake as well. I squinted my eyes at the brightness of the sun and glanced at my friends instead and yawned a little.

“Good morning, Alexandria” Ignis received me. “Prompto told me he’s going to teach you how to shoot a gun”

“That’s right” I feebly combed my hair with my fingers, realizing I was probably suffering from a bad case of bed hair.

“Is that a safe practice?” His green eyes darted from him to me. “Mindlessly firing a weapon while in a drowsy sate?”

“Don’t worry, Iggy” Prompto kindly patted his back. “We’ll be safe, Scout’s honor”

“I highly doubt you were a Boy Scout” Ignis humored us, grinning just a little.

We both laughed at his joke, but analyzed his expression as we waited for his permission and approval. Even though we didn’t actually need it, but he was like the unofficial mother of the group.

“Just be sure to make it back before Noct wakes up” He budged in the end.

“That gives us lots of time” I joked as well, making the boys smile in awe at my unexpected burst of humor.

“See you later!” Prompto waved goodbye at Ignis as he took me by the arm and dragged me with him.

We isolated ourselves from everything not to bother anyone in a wide radius. The loud sound of gunfire could alarm some people and we wanted to avoid that.

I just observed Prompto as he jumped around me, jittery as he made up his mind. I assumed he needed to plan how to approach his lesson.

“Okay” He finally settled up, positioning himself in front of me. “Here’s my gun, careful with it”

“Alright” I held my hand up as he summoned it and made it spin in his fingers before giving it to me. The weapon felt heavier than I expected, and the cold metallic feeling to it took me by surprise.

I looked up to Prompto, curious about his expression, and recognized an excited but cautious hint to it. He then stood next to me instead, motioning for me to get started. Unsure, I wielded the gun in my hand and pointed ahead to nowhere in particular.

“Should I wield it with both hands or just with one?” I asked when I realized I didn’t know how to properly hold it.

“Whatever is more comfortable” He nodded simply, resting his hands on his belt and shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

I tried to hold the gun with both hands and found that it felt better. It made me feel more comfortable and confident that way.

I turned my head to look at Prompto, holding an inquisitive look. He nodded again and grinned a little.

“Let me see your stance”

“I… thought this was my stance”

To be quite honest, it wasn’t a conscious one. I was merely pointing my gun, trying to get a good grip on it and keeping my arms straight.

“You have to have a firm stance before you shoot, tense up a bit”

I nodded and focused on my posture. I straightened up my back and did my best to stand in a solid position, with my feet firmly placed on the ground. I raised my eyebrows, questioningly, as I glanced at him. Prompto shook his head a little and stood behind me. He awkwardly cleared his throat and hesitantly placed his arms over mine to study my posture. The intimate closeness triggered a sudden warmth in my cheeks, so I resolved to keep my gaze up ahead so he wouldn’t notice.

I realized then, my idea of having him teach me was either brilliance or stupidity.

“Do you mind?” He shyly asked me, his breath tickling my ear.

“N-No” I bit my lip when I realized I had stuttered. “You’re supposed to be teaching me”

“Right! And… you’re too tense”

“But I thought you said I have to tense up!”

“Yeah… Well… no” When he shook his head again, his hair briefly brushed my cheek. “It’s just that you have to keep alert at first until you get used to it”

“Why?”

“Because… you have to get used to the recoil”

“Oh” I chuckled, feeling silly for not realizing on my own. “That makes perfect sense”

“But you have to relax a bit” His hands settled in my wrist as he spoke.

I did my best to follow his instructions, keeping my posture intact but relaxing my stiff muscles. He must have felt the change under his arms, because he nodded.

“Yeah, like that. Now let’s focus on your aiming” Sliding his hands a bit lower until they wrapped the back of mine and he lifted them a little, he continued talking. “Try to keep your arms parallel to the ground, you’re more solid that way”

“Alright, arms parallel” I repeated, trying to take a mental note of it. “Keeping them straight as well?”

“Mm-hmm” He made me fold them at the elbows by putting a bit of pressure towards my chest. “If you fold your arms, the recoil will make you stumble back”

I was flustered by how much he knew about it, especially since I found it so oddly attractive. I did a great effort to suppress the sudden grin that wanted to occupy my mouth as well as those intrusive thoughts.

“Is that it?” I asked instead, trying to occupy my mouth with something else instead. Words happened to be the best thing I could improvise.

“Not even close” Prompto chuckled, and his laughter caressed my neck softly. “Next, we gotta focus on your hands”

I looked over my shoulder to him and frowned, confused as to why he said that. I thought my hands were already in the right place.

Prompto moved my fingers and repositioned them until they occupied their rightful spot. His hands were kind and gentle even if a little clumsy. He seemed as flustered as me because of the closeness, but I assumed it was necessary in order to teach me. Not that I was complaining.

My index fingers now rested on the trigger as the rest of them securely wrapped the handle.

“There really is a lot to consider” I commented, also thinking back to my sword training. “I didn’t know it was as complicated as this”

“That makes me more of a pro, right?” He joked, chuckling cheerfully again.

“You are quite skilled” I grinned as I dropped the compliment.

It triggered a mixture of shy chuckles and incoherent words before he cleared his throat and continued with the lesson. I smiled, slightly smug about the effect it had on him.

Prompto clumsily took the safety off and made a pause before carrying on with the lesson.

“Now shoot” To my surprise, his voice sounded deeper and more authoritarian than usual. He surely made it on purpose to recover from his previous timid moment. Still, it sent shivers down my spine.

“Are you sure?” I checked, knowing his body was still resting against mine. “Now?”

“Yup” He casually replied in his upbeat tone. “I’ll hold you when the retail makes you stumble a little so you-”

“I’m not gonna stumble” I scoffed, finding his lack of faith disturbing.

“You don’t want me to steady you then?”

“It’s not necessary”

“Okay, if you say so…” There was a hint of playful smugness in his voice.

Prompto separated himself from me, even if I could still feel his body warmth closely behind me. But there was now a slight distance between us.

I quickly glanced at him over my shoulder, earning an encouraging nod from him. I then took a deep breath and looked back ahead, ready to fire the gun for the first time.

I aimed for a distant bush, taking a few seconds to remember his instructions. Arms straight, parallel to the ground. Index fingers on the trigger. Alert but relaxed stance.

Then I held my breath as I pulled the trigger. An involuntary squeak escaped my throat as the gun violently shoot.

The gunfire had been louder than I expected, and the power with which the bullet left the barrel was much stronger than I imagined too. Like Prompto had foreseen, it pushed me backwards a little and made me stumble.

Luckily, his hands were ready to steady me by holding my hips in place. That was why he was so smug about, he knew it would happen. That I wouldn’t be prepared to the impulse it would give me.

I stared at him blankly, surprised and embarrassed about my first attempt.

“See?” He chuckled, deeply amused. “It’s more violent than it seems!”

“It is…” I rolled my shoulders as soon as I felt the impact of the recoil in my muscles. “Ow!”

Prompto was beaming as he patted my shoulder playfully.

“Your footing is a bit weak, that’s why you stumbled so much”

“I didn’t stumble that much…”

The blond grinned widely as he summoned another gun to wield himself. Then he demonstrated his own stance, standing sideways and holding the weapon with just one hand. It looked quite neat and, again, he looked oddly attractive doing it.

I mentally cringed because of those distracting thoughts. Why was I seeing him differently all of a sudden?! Was it because of that stupid dream?

Realizing he was staring expectantly to make sure I was paying attention, I tilted my head to the side, trying to memorize his form. Then he easily and gracefully shifted forward so both his feet were horizontally parallel and wrapped his other hand around the gun.

“Copy me” His eyes locked with mine as he spoke.

I frowned in concentration as I tried to mimic his posture. Legs slightly spread, back straight and arms parallel to the ground.

“Like this?”

“Let me see”

With another skillful spin, Prompto saved his gun in his pocket and approached me. He analyzed my stance for a second before he settled his hands on my shoulders.

“You have to bend your knees juuust a little bit” To demonstrate, he shook me and showed me that my posture faltered when he did. “And then you should be fine”

His hands shook my shoulders again once he softly pushed me down so my knees bent down. Then, my posture didn’t falter, just like he had said.

“Should I fire again then?”

“Go for it!” He rested his gun on his shoulder in a cool pose as he watched me carefully.

I prepared myself again, but found that I didn’t feel as confident anymore. I sought his eyes when I looked behind me, and he leaned forward in response.

“Could you…” I began to say, slightly embarrassed. “Could you steady me this time?”

“Sure!” More comfortable now, his arms rested over mine as his hands wrapped around mine.

His front stuck to my back as he used his body as a wall to stop me from moving backwards. The warmth, as well as the secure support, made me feel confident again.

I held a breath back as I pulled the trigger, shutting my eyes tight and preparing for the moment of truth.

The impact wasn’t nearly as bad as the first time. My shoulders and arms didn’t hurt as much and I barely even stumbled backwards. Prompto was a great teacher, he was right!

I was pushed into Prompto’s chest due to the recoil, however, but his support surely helped.

“You’re getting the hang of it!” He encouraged me, even if I was grimacing when I turned around to meet him.

“Not really, I get startled when it fires” I confessed, still holding the grimace.

“You’ll get used to it with time, but your form is fine”

His hands settled in my waist, making me jump up slightly when his fingers softly dug in my flesh. An unknown fact about me was that I was very sensitive, not even Ignis knew that. Probably because he wasn’t physical or playful like Prompto was, but the blond was about to find out because of that gesture.

I looked him in the eyes to explain, and I smiled when I noticed he had put his hands up in the air, scared that he had upset me.

“Careful, I’m ticklish” I explained, feeling the smile widening in my lips watching his confused expression.

“Good to know” He soon recovered, though, because his hands reclaimed their spot in my waist –gingerly this time, hesitant and gentle not to tickle me –and he rotated my body a little. “But you need to make sure you’re not too tense, you’ll need to use your hips to jump back or dodge”

I nodded, aiming while I did as he said and rotated my hips in order to move backwards and sideways. His hands didn’t move as I shifted my posture, they stayed in my waist to make sure I upheld the right stance.

“Am I doing well?” I asked him once I felt like my movements were fluent enough.

“You’re doing great!” He exclaimed happily. “All you need to do now is practice”

“So is that all?”

“Those were the basics, you still need to learn more stuff, I’ll teach you later”

“We’re going to practice now?”

“Yyyup!”

He was almost skipping as he went over to a big rock that stood in front of us, a few meters from where we were standing. Then he took something out of his vest and I laughed out loud when I realized it was empty containers of Cup Noodles. Most likely, emptied by Gladio himself.

Then Prompto came back to me in a nimble jog and looked at me with a cute expression as he waited. Since I didn’t respond at first, he gave me another of his encouraging nods.

“Here goes nothing…” I said under my breath, holding the gun and aiming it at the containers.

I mentally went over all that the gunman had taught me and focused on perfecting my stance to make it more firm and sturdy. When I thought I was ready, I exchanged a quick glance with him to ask for validation. Prompto absently bit his bottom lip as he moved to stand next to me and gently pushed his hand against the small of my back so I aligned myself better. Then he energetically nodded again, and so I shot.

I winked an eye to try and aim better and pulled the trigger, making my first gunshot.

Not only did I squeak loudly, still not accustomed to the loud bang –at least the recoil hadn’t made me stumble this time –but I didn’t even graze the container.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get it!” Prompto cheered me up, excitedly rubbing his hands together as he waited for me to try again.

I deeply inhaled and took my time to get the aim right. My hands weren’t as steadied as I would like to admit, which I only realized once I had to keep them completely still to make an accurate shot, but I pulled the trigger nonetheless.

That time I internalized my reaction and slightly cringed at the very loud noise of the gunfire. Yet the bullet didn’t touch the container that time either.

I pouted and looked over to Prompto, discouraged. He grinned in amusement and motioned with his hand in my direction. At first I thought he wanted me to hand him his gun to demonstrate himself, but he shook his head when I offered it to him. With a simple movement, the other gun he was carrying on his hand disappeared and he stood behind me again.

“Here, let me help you” He said with his kind and cheerful voice. “Aim first”

I frowned in concentration as I positioned my whole body in the right manner and aimed my gun. I maintained the posture waiting for him to do something. His arms reclaimed their place over mine and his hands warmly enveloped mine once more. I found myself smiling, thinking this was one of the best ideas I ever had after all. His chin rested on my shoulder in order to get a better view of my aim. I was suddenly very conscious of his chest against my back and his hair against my skin. I bit my bottom lip hard as I tried to dismiss those thoughts. I wasn’t used to such closeness and intimacy, not with him nor with anyone. Perhaps it was why I was so focused on Prompto lately, because I enjoyed such affection and he seemed to be the only one to provide it for me. I closed my eyes tight and told myself to focus on the task and not on him.

“You need to aim a bit higher than the target actually is” His hands lifted my arms slightly. “And try holding your breath as you shoot, you’ll move less and will be more accurate”

“Okay” I mumbled absently, taking a deep breath and holding it in as I aimed.

I was afraid that I would accidentally hit Prompto because of the recoil seeing as he was so close to me. He seemed to realize this too, because he took his chin off my shoulder and hid his face in my back instead, his arms never leaving mine. I chuckled at the playful gesture and had to take a few seconds to get back to my serious concentrated state that I needed to shoot.

I breathed again, holding my breath as I prepared to shoot, and pulled the trigger. I noticed Prompto’s grip getting firmer, helping me stand still. The bullet, indeed, hit the container and made it fall. I gasped in surprise and excitement. Prompto separated himself from me, letting out a cheerful scream.

“What did I tell you?” The blond’s voice was laced with a hint of joking smugness. “Bullseye!”

“I did it!”

“Try again, come on!”

I tried to contain my joy as I aimed again. The fourth and last container was my target, so I focused on aiming and standing properly. After I aimed, I held my breath and did my best to keep myself still and firm as I shot once more. The cup fell over when the bullet hit it. Regardless of being startled by the gunfire and being slightly sore because of the tension and recoil, I was beyond delighted.

I turned to meet Prompto, who was beaming as he held his hand up in the air. I gladly high-fived him and smiled back.

After I was more familiar with the basics, Prompto proceeded to teach me postures and more that had to do with gun wielding, like reloading and even firing two guns at once. Once my knowledge was increased, we went through what I had learned.

I practiced some more by shooting targets –the surviving Cup Noodle containers –and Prompto took advantage to snap some pictures while he was at it.

When we got back, Ignis received us with delicious toasts. Gladiolus and Noctis were awake as well, and as we had breakfast we decided that it would be best to head to the chocobo farm so at least we would have that transportation at our disposal while Cindy investigated the Regalia’s whereabouts.

We had to walk all the way there, so we made a brief pause at a diner. The five of us scattered around as we took a look at the shops around it, also searching for possible quests in case we needed it. Not really interested in any of that, I sat in the shade as I waited for them, resting my tired legs. How I missed the Regalia!

“Hey, Xanders!” Prompto walked closer to me, hands tucked behind his back and displaying a bright grin.

“Hi” I looked up at him, using my hand to shield my eyes from the brightness of the sun behind him.

“How’s about we go get a milkshake at the diner? Whaddaya say?” He grinned excitedly. “Bet they have strawberry flavor!”

“Sure, it should be fun” My eyes were directed towards the shop, where our friends were still at. “Although I don’t really see Gladio or Ignis being fans of milkshakes, but Noct might like one”

“I mean… well… yeah, the four of us… uh…” Prompto frowned, troubled. His cheerful expression had completely fallen as he started to mumble to the point that I couldn’t quite hear him. “Like… What I meant was… S-Sure, all of us”

“What is it?” I worried, confused about that sudden change in his demeanor.

“N-Nothing, never mind” He then walked alone, entering the diner.

I stood up and looked at him through the window. I wondered what had happened as he plopped down in one of the chairs at the bar and ordered something.

“What’s gotten into him?” Gladiolus was walking my direction, even if his eyes were focused on the lonely Prompto as well. Noctis came by just then, listening to our conversation.

“I don’t know… he asked me to go for a milkshake” I closed my eyes for a moment, completely baffled. “And when I replied that you and Ignis wouldn’t like milkshakes…”

“He asked you to get a shake and you said that?” Noctis chuckled, even if his laughter evolved into a more intense one that made him hold his stomach. “Oh, man!”

“I don’t get it” I looked from one to the other. “What’s funny?”

“For such a smart girl, you're pretty thick sometimes” Gladiolus smirked, deeply entertained as well as he rested an elbow over Noctis’ shoulder.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I snapped at him, offended by such comment. Why would he say that out of nowhere?

“He was asking you to get a milkshake, Alex!” Noct pushed me a little, still giggling.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you! Alone! Not all of us!”

“Oh” A fond smile showed up on my lips. “That is sweet of him, to pass the time with me while we wait for you guys”

“You’re completely oblivious, aren’t you?”

“He wanted to spend some quality time alone with you, if you know what I mean…”

“I’m afraid I don’t…”

“Flirting 101” Gladiolus grinned as he tapped a finger against his temple.

“F-Flirting?” My glance was immediately directed to Prompto, who cautiously looked over his shoulder towards us. His eyes widened when he realized I wasn’t on my own anymore, and he rushed outside to meet us.

“W-What’s up, guys?” He stirred uncomfortably in his spot. “What are you talking about?”

“Girls” Noctis replied casually, calmly eyeing his friends.

“With Alex?” Prompto’s blue eyes fell on me, puzzled that they would be having a conversation as such with me.

“We weren’t-“ I started to say, attempting to clarify it wasn’t our actual conversation subject.

“You like someone, Prompto?” Gladio nudged him, taking him by surprise and making him stutter.

“N-n-no…”

“I thought you liked Cindy!”

“Well, I… I, uh… uh…”

I knew what they were trying to do, their mischievous expressions spoke for themselves. Noctis and Gladio were trying to tease us about our connection, perhaps implying that we would make a good couple. Yet I refused, even if would find myself craving his affectionate gestures, for we were just friends.

The blond kept on stammering as we stared at him, anxious to hear his answer. I was genuinely curious to know whether his crush on Cindy had passed or not.

“All set” Ignis’ voice interrupted the conversation. “Shall we carry on to the farm?”

“Yes!” Prompto pointed at the tawny-haired man. “Thank you, Iggy”

To avoid giving a direct answer, the blond walked off, taking him along too. The other two talked amongst themselves, speaking in a secretive tone that intrigued me.

“What is it?” I asked them both, concerned about their odd glances to me.

“Nothing” Gladio, however, was smirking as they started walking and he playfully pinched my cheek.

Even with our lively banter, the endless walking felt tedious. It contributed to my immersion into a reflective mood once again. My brain burned with ideas and possible solutions to my insecurity problem. I hadn’t forgotten about my new purpose, I was merely distracted by it for a brief moment.

After much deliberation, I believed that straying myself to be on my own temporarily was the best option. I needed the time to think and analyze myself and my emotions, my strengths and flaws. Which was quite hard being constantly surrounded by my friends, no matter how much I enjoyed their company.

It felt wrong to be hiding my inner monologue from them, but I wanted to be absolutely sure before I made any decisions. Yet it felt equally wrong to be accompanying them while I didn’t add anything to the group.

A flash of light made me blink repeatedly, slightly blinded by the brightness. I didn’t hear the familiar sound of Prompto’s camera yet I knew it was what brought me back to reality. Noctis and he were taking a ‘selfie’, which the blond loved so much. Since they had stopped for a brief moment, I observed them curiously. The two saw the picture and started laughing out loud, which hinted at a theory that they had been making silly faces when they posed. Probably Prompto’s idea. I smiled at the sight, thinking how endearing he was. Prompto just managed to always keep a smile in our faces, our very own ray of sunshine. I felt lucky to have known him, he almost made me feel like home. Which was ironic as he was literally the only one out of the four that I previously didn’t know as we left in our journey.

Yet I thought back to the moments we spent together, and the way he made me feel… So warm and content, so happy and excited. His mere presence brought me comfort and joy. His mere existence was refreshing and exhilarating. Prompto was almost like a reminder that there could be light in the world, that darkness existed so we would appreciate the beauty.

He was just… cute. And not just cute in the obvious way of his exterior appearance. It wasn’t only about his adorable freckled nose, his bright smile and his gorgeous blue eyes. Prompto had a beautiful mind and soul as well, pure, kind and innocent.

Just thinking about him released butterflies into my stomach, whimsically floating around and filling me with a foreign yet pleasant warmth that made me want to smile. It invited me to giggle out of pure delight, it unexpectedly made my heart race.

I had never felt like that before, but I was hit with realization when I identified such feeling. It wasn’t just fondness or affection or friendship.

It was love. Infatuation. Romantic love.

I froze at the thought, terrified, despite the fact that it was unequivocal. I was… I was in love with Prompto Argentum.

I only noticed I had stopped walking when Noctis walked into me. With such sudden movement, all my friends focused on me.

“Are you feeling alright, Alexandria?” Ignis asked me, concerned. His eyes fixed on me as he absently shoved the glasses up his nose.

“Yeah, you look a little pale” Gladio placed a reassuring hand in the middle of my back.

Despite all their attention and eyes on me, mine locked with his vibrant blue eyes as he hurried to stand in front of me. Prompto seemed confused as he watched me, also mildly concerned too.

“And now you’re turning red!” Noctis commented too. “What’s with you?”

“N-Nothing” I uttered, finally dragging my glance away from his eyes and digging it into the ground instead. “I just feel a bit under the weather, is all”

“Is something worrying you, dear?” Ignis’ arm hovered around my waist, wondering whether he should embrace me in such manner or not.

I merely shook my head, forcing myself to look into his eyes. When they reciprocated the gaze, I dedicated him a serene smile that soon faltered as my eyes unwillingly left his.

My mind kept heading to Prompto, I couldn’t stop thinking about him and about how much I liked him. The foreign feeling sent me into a panic, which lead me to my first instinct. Which was speaking to the person I trusted most.

“Ignis” I still said, determined as I locked eyes with him. “I need to talk to you, please”

“Of course” He significantly glanced at our friends until they started walking without us to give us some privacy. “What seems to be the matter?”

Protectively, his hand rested on my back, soothingly moving up and down to calm my anxiety.

“I would say you’re a wise man” I started to say, extremely nervous about the mixture of unknown emotions stirring within me.

“Why yes, I would say so myself”

“I-I need advice… I feel lost”

Feeling their eyes on us, Ignis glanced at them and held a hand up reassuringly.

“Everything is in order” He reassured them, since they were absently walking while they stared at us.

“I’m okay, I’m okay” I had overreacted, and I didn’t want them to think it was a matter of importance like last time. I didn’t want to scare them. “I just need to talk to Iggy for a moment”

“We’ll meet you there then…” Gladiolus furrowed his brow, preoccupied. Nonetheless, he started walking. Noctis followed after a brief second of hesitance. Prompto, however, stared at us and refused to leave without us.

“I’m fine, Prom” I laughed a little, because… How could I not love him? He was so sweet. “Honestly, I just need to tell Iggy something”

“Okay…” The blond softly told us. “See you later”

I nodded to reinforce his words, confirming that I would meet him there. Not without a bit of reluctance, Prompto finally went with Noct and Gladio.

“You’ve been quite erratic lately, Alexandria” Ignis started as we were left alone, crossing his arms elegantly. “Are you ready to share why with me then?”

“I think so” I heaved a big sigh, trying to put some order into my disordered thoughts. “I… I’m thinking about leaving the group for a short period of time”

Although it was there reflected in his eyes, Ignis managed to conceal his surprise extremely well.

“I am ashamed about my actions during our encounter with the Archaean” I confessed, observing him and watching how his expression was one of resigned sadness. Ignis had known that it was exactly my problem ever since we left the Disc of Cauthess. But he didn’t know everything.

“Alexandria, you were injured…”

“I shouldn’t have been, I felt helpless and I couldn’t fight alongside you… even if I hadn’t been injured” I sighed, averting my glance from his worried eyes. “I was worthless, merely a burden to you all”

“You are being too harsh on yourself, you are not a burden” Ignis placed a hand over my shoulder. “But an essential addition to the group”

“Perhaps as a travelling companion, but not as a fighting partner” With that statement, my friend got quiet. He had no argument to that, because he knew I was right.

“And you believe leaving will help you in that matter?”

“I will get time to myself, to train and make myself stronger” I thought back to what Gladiolus said to me, accepting the truth of his hurtful words. “Gladio was right, I need to learn how to take care of myself”

I could tell that Ignis was troubled, torn between letting me grow and being proud and impressed that I wanted to take such a big step and being concerned about my safety, and hating to leave me on my own to fend for myself. Even if that was the entire point.

“If you believe it to be the best for you I shan’t impose”

“I do, it’s something I need to do, Ignis”

“I understand” My friend dedicated me a soft smile. “You need to be extremely careful, however. You-“

“I won’t be alone” I cut him, interrupting his incoming lecture about safety. And sensibility. “I will have to sleep somewhere, I’ll go to a diner and stay in the caravans”

“Where would that be?”

“Hammerhead, perhaps… With Cindy and Cid?”

“I would feel more at ease if you stayed close to Hammerhead, certainly”

“Don’t worry, I will”

“What about the money? You will need-“

“Ignis, there’s nothing to worry about. I will be alright”

“Very well…” He sighed, resigned yet compliant.

A silence settled, in which we looked at each other wondering if there was something more to be said. I wanted to address my other concern, but it was a more sensitive matter than the other one. One that I felt embarrassed to talk with Ignis about, although I did want his opinion.

“Is there something more beyond that matter?” Ignis absently took his glasses off and started cleaning them with the hem of his shirt.

“Yes, I… also feel… confused. Lost, distracted, excited, frightened, happy and smitten. All at once”

“Why would that be?”

“I… I think I’m in love, Ignis”

He nearly dropped his glasses out of utter shock, not expecting to hear that. Perhaps he knew me extremely well, even to the point of realizing I did have certain feelings for a special someone. It was obvious who they were directed to as well once I exposed I had them. Whatever the case, Ignis had not foreseen that I would burst it out like that.

“Is… is that a problem?” Ignis put his glasses back on and gave me a sweet look. “I have always believed that romance is a wonderful gift”

“Yes, it is!” I agreed, tilting my head to the side and making a face. “Yet it triggered certain emotions for the first time… And… I don’t know how to act, what to think, what to do! Or if I should do something about it at all”

I sighed, hating to feel so constricted and disoriented. I needed to wrap my head around the fact that I felt something for Prompto, far beyond my initial beliefs that I just enjoyed his platonic affection. I had to get used to my own emotions and decide how to act on them.

“It is perfectly understandable”

“Should I call Cindy then?”

I pulled out my phone as I carefully watched his expression. Ignis pursed his lips in resignation and bowed his head softly.

“If you are certain in your decision, by all means”

I started dialing Cindy’s number, yet I stopped myself before I made the call. I looked up to Ignis and smiled at him fondly.

“Thank you, Ignis. For understanding and for listening”

“My pleasure”

We continued walking then, trying to catch up with our friends as they were probably at the chocobo farm already. I positioned my phone next to my ear as I called the garage.

With the corner of my eye, I observed Ignis as I waited for Cindy to pick up. My friend seemed a little sad, no matter how masterfully he held his elegant and composed tall stature and firm stance. I could read the distress in his expression, and I found myself wondering what exactly he was thinking.

“Hello?” Cindy’s friendly voice responded, dripping with that thick accent of hers.

“Cindy, it’s Alexandria” I started to say, forgetting about Ignis for a moment. “Prince Noctis’ friend”

“Howdy there! What can I do ya for?”

“I was wondering if you could please send a car to the chocobo farm”

“Where are y’all going?”

“Actually, it’s just me”

“Kay, where are ya headed then?”

“To Hammerhead”

“From the chocobo farm to the garage, comin’ right at ya!”

“Thanks, Cindy”

“See y’all!”

When I hung up, I cautiously looked over to Ignis. He dedicated me a small and sad smile. I did too.

The two of us just kept walking. We didn’t say one word for the rest of the way.

I knew our friends were anxious when I noticed they hadn’t approached the chocobos. They were too preoccupied with reuniting with Ignis and me and hearing what we had to say on the matter.

Thinking about bidding farewell to them was heartbreaking – I was about to separate myself from the men I had spent every moment of every day with for the past weeks. The thought of being away from them was unbearable, but I convinced myself that it was part of growing stronger.

“Why the long faces?” Gladio broke the ice as soon as we walked their way.

“Alexandria as some news she would like to share” Deciding it was best if I told them myself, Ignis motioned over to me.

“Oh, boy…” Prompto grimaced slightly, worriedly looking from the boys to me. “What’s wrong, Alex?”

“I have decided to distance myself for some time” I started saying, attempting to ignore the bothersome lump in my throat as I spoke. “I need some time alone with my thoughts”

“What?” Noctis was the first one to reply, seeing as the blond was speechless and Gladio stared at Ignis in search of a proper explanation. “Why?!”

“Alexandria believes it to be best for her, Noct” My best friend endorsed me, though he wasn’t happy with the idea himself. “Sometimes we need to isolate ourselves in order to come back with a clearer perspective”

I was greatly surprised by how well Ignis understood my situation, as he had put it perfectly into words. I couldn’t have said it better myself. Sometimes it made me feel like Ignis conveyed my own emotions better than I did myself.

“Where you gonna go?” Gladiolus piped up, crossing his arms over his chest and giving me a grave glance.

“Hammerhead seems like the best option” My eyes changed from Gladiolus to Noctis and finally to Prompto before settling back on Gladio. “I have friends there, not to mention nourishment and lodging”

“Good for you then” To show me his support, the big man patted me in the arm. “We’re gonna miss ya, though”

I smiled sweetly at him, grateful. My glance was directed to Prompto, as he was still quiet and recovering from the shocking news.

“Well…” He let out one of his small chuckles, albeit this one was falsely cheerful and definitely more distraught and surprised. “Cid and Cindy will take care of you”

“Yes” I looked around, seeking any signs of her arriving. “She should arrive any minute”

“Wait, you’re leaving right now?!” The blond panicked, moving his whole body in a violent reflex.

“I’m afraid I will never do it otherwise”

“Guess you’re right”

“But, Alex! But… but…”

“You were always so pigheaded” Noctis ignored the babbling Prompto and friendly pushed me with his fingertips. Ignis smiled a little, at last, as though agreeing with him.

The engine of a car broke the uncomfortable and raw silence. We looked to realize Cindy was behind the wheel, getting prepared to park the automobile. With the realization that Cindy’s arrival also meant my departure, their eyes fell upon me.

“Howdy, y’all!” Cindy waved to all of us as she exited the car, and we all reciprocated the gesture. I expected them to walk over to her and greet her properly, but none of the four moved from my side. I was startled by this, especially since Prompto hadn’t even glanced at her.

“I… guess…” My voice broke and I had to pause for a moment. “Guess this is farewell”

Ignis took a step forward, wanting to be the first one to say goodbye. A nasty shiver spread through my back with the thought of leaving them for an extended period of time.

“Iggy, I’m gonna miss you so much” I wasn’t leaving forever! Why were my eyes becoming watery?

“As will I. Please, take care of yourself” Ignis squeezed me fondly, making me smile against his shirt. “Do call us if you ever need anything at all”

“I will” I looked up at him and smiled, as did he. Our eyes didn’t part as he stepped back and allowed somebody else to go next.

“You’re coming back, aren’t you?” Gladio raised an eyebrow, suspicious of my sudden farewell, as he positioned himself in front of me.

“Of course I am!”

“Don’t be a stranger now”

With one arm, he pushed me against him in a bear hug that made me smile in spite of myself, in spite of the sad moment and the frightening consequences of my parting.

Noctis jokingly pushed him a little as he came to say goodbye himself.

“I wondered when you would snap and leave” He smirked, refusing to have our farewell be a sad one. “Took you longer than I thought”

“You’re insufferable, Noctis” I rolled my eyes at him, feigning annoyance. “But not that insufferable”

“Come back in one piece, okay?” The embrace that followed next was slightly awkward and forced, yet we enjoyed it nonetheless.

“I will try” I replied as I softly broke the hug, locking eyes with him. His pale eyes were smiling fondly, making me nod in appreciation.

I briefly looked over my shoulder to Cindy before facing the dreaded moment. The grease-monkey girl was smiling, warmed by the interactions, as she waited patiently. Seeing as she would wait for a little longer, I sought Prompto.

The boy stood there, seemingly nervous and uncomfortable. He was playing with his hands and appeared oddly small at that moment, as though he felt extremely vulnerable and lost.

The sight almost made me want to change my mind and stay there with them. Until I remembered that he was a big part of my decision, that the butterflies flew into my stomach at the thought of him. That I wouldn’t be able to perform properly until I settled the giddiness and jitteriness he caused in me.

I took a deep breath, walking over to him when he didn’t move from his spot. If saying goodbye to Noctis, Gladio and Ignis had just widened the lump in my throat, talking to Prompto made me want to cry.

I opened my mouth, not really knowing what words would come out of it. I let my instinct take over as my brain couldn’t create any coherent thoughts, being overwhelmed with such varied emotions. Prompto, however, spoke first.

“Would you mind if… I texted you while you’re away?” Such question was completely unexpected and left me at loss for words.

“What?”

“You don’t even have to answer me, you can ignore me! I mean, I won’t text you if you don’t want me to but…”

He was starting to ramble and stutter again, like most times we shared a special and intimate moment. For a brief second, a spark of hope started in my heart wondering whether he reciprocated my love. I blinked repeatedly to diminish those thoughts and slowly placed my arms around his neck, hugging him in an attempt to soothe his anxiety.

“I would love to exchange messages with you while I’m out, Prompto” I told him kindly, rejoicing in the comforting and warm embrace.

The blond squeezed me lovingly, bowing his head down until his nose brushed against my shoulder. He sighed against me and I had to restrain myself not to do the same.

“Take care out there, okay?” He was the one to pull away, but I allowed him.

I nodded in response, too afraid that if I said anything else I would start crying. I directed my glance from one to another, foreseeing how much I would crave their presence next to me once I was left alone at Hammerhead. I smiled at the lot of them and took a deep breath as I went to meet with Cindy. I didn’t understand why my heart started racing as I did.

“Alex!” Prompto’s voice stopped me from walking. I turned around, wondering if he would ask me to stay. Perhaps I still could, perhaps I was on time to change my mind. When our eyes met, I noticed he was sadly pursing his lips together. “We’re gonna miss you”

His voice had become almost a whisper, barely loud enough for me to hear him. I frowned, mentally scolding him for making me emotional. For sending another shiver down my back that announced my need to start crying.

Biting my lip and shaking my head vehemently, I stood in my spot for a few seconds, distraught. Then I exhaled a breath I had been holding in and ran in their direction, engulfing them all in one last hug.

Tagging list: @prince-of-wind, @toranyx. 

#sunshine in the moonlight #sitm #prompto #prompto argentum #prompto x oc #prompto argentum x oc #ffxv #ffxv fanfiction #ffxv fanfic #final fantasy xv #final fantasy xv fanfiction #final fantasy xv fanfic #story #ffxv story #final fantasy xv story #noctis #noctis lucis caelum #ignis #ignis scientia #gladio #gladiolus #gladiolus amicitia #oc #no reader insert

[dalemeetsworld]

Chef Anthony Bourdain once said, "If you're young, physically fit, hungry to learn and be better, I urge you to travel- as far and as widely as possible. Sleep on floors if you have to. Find out how other people live and eat and cook. Learn from them wherever you go." Those words inspire me and impacted my whole being. I'm 25 and fortunate to have traveled the world and absorb what it has done to me. Through it, I realized that traveling is a better investment than more material things. Why? It's because there are so many life lessons you can learn from it. I can tell you some of my favorites.

1. IT IS OUT OF YOUR COMFORT ZONE

There is nothing more like diving out of your comfort zone to make you realize that you are a newbie in life no matter what your age is.

When I was younger, middle eastern countries used to be terrifying and scary to me. Maybe because the way these countries are portrayed by media can sometimes be negatively biased. But that has all changed when I visited Abu Dhabi and experience it first hand.

It's exhilarating to forget what's familiar for a bit and expand your horizons. Once you do, there is no better feeling than taking on unfamiliar territory and making it familiar. All it takes is pulling the trigger, and you'll come home with endless stories.

2. IT DE-STRESSES YOU

It helps us break our behavioural patterns when we feel like too many days look the same. It's also a great way to add a new dimension to your life, which makes the hustle bearable.

As cliche as it sounds, sometimes we don't know how to handle issues and what we want to do, until we step away from our family, friends, workmates and tune in to our inner voice. Travel gives you the space to just be you and think alone in a way you could never do back home. It's so much easier to deal with issues and solve problems when you look at them from the outside. It gives you a lot of time to think without destructions and make healthy decisions.

3. YOU GET TO TASTE DIFFERENT TYPES OF FOOD

Life is too short to eat the same type of food every single day. Imagine there's a book with thousands of pages and you read over and over the same first page never turning it once, that's how most people live their lives. I never thought that pelmini, sushi and kimchi would become some of my favorite dishes in the world until i tried them country to country. Try a restaurant serving ethnic food and avoid the touristic ones with equivalent food from home.

As a cook, I cannot go to a restaurant in a foreign country without mentally reverse engineering the food that I am eating. Many times your waiter will tell you the recipe. Afterwards, I try them out in my kitchen. Not only it gives me the pleasure of eating the food, but also helps me become a better cook.

4. IT IS A MORE ADVANCED FORM OF EDUCATION

Traveling is like condensed education. So many scales and new forms of interconnected knowledge merged together in a travel experience. It gives you a detail of insights whether about Geography, History, International events or even Language which others only study in school books. It makes you realize how much you don't know, and it opens your mind and broads your perspective. These absorbed information will stick around a lot longer than what you learn from school. After all, experience is the best teacher of all.

5. YOU MEET NEW PEOPLE

The best part of traveling is the people you meet along the way. I've found out that it is extremely rare to come across another traveler who isn't eager to hear your stories, where you've been, or where did you come from. You listen to their stories, tell yours, share the same interests, hear various opinions and experience things together with people.

Some of my favorite friendships are the ones I found from traveling. To name a few: with a Mexican guy called Arnold and a Danish old man named Ben. During a carnival in Veracruz, a man named Arnold approached me and asked stuff about my camera, turns out he is a blogger from Tampico who came to celebrate the carnival. He gave me a liter of local beer and took me to his group of friends and partied all night. The other one is with Ben, who offered me a lift to Esbjerg downtown because he was worried that I'd be walking longer than i thought. And the list goes on. Who would have thought that simple situations like these help you build relationships that would last a lifetime.

It is a beautiful thing to say that you're friends with people around the planet.

6. YOU START TO UNDERSTAND OTHER CULTURES

Living somewhere completely different gives you a new perspective that's different from just hearing or reading about it. People fear what they don't know or don't understand. Just because someone lives in another geography than you do, their skin color is different, and they believe different religion than you, it doesn't mean they don't share the same emotions. When you travel, you'll find that most people are good and welcoming, and they'll share with you what they have in order to make you feel good.

The act of being somewhere new allows you to fully immerse yourself and appreciate that new place, from the people, the language, the clothing, and everything in between. Taking the time to interact with the local culture is the way to experience and appreciate it fully. Again, this can't be taught, only experienced.

7. YOU'RE EXPOSED TO NEW IDEAS

Whether you are staring at a menu realizing you have no idea what the items are, or jumping on a bus that you hope will get you somewhere familiar, traveling is exciting. It forces you to do new things, and it's gonna be easy after the first couple of times which eventually makes you learn the system. Being in new territory will probe new ideas and curiosities- what the local customs are, the local food, what language is spoken and religious practices. It gives you a better understanding, and therefore turning these curiosities into discoveries. This will then make you hungry to learn more, ask questions and completely immerse yourself into a new place.

8. IT MAKES YOU MORE INDEPENDENT

One goal in life is to be independent. Meaning, if it comes to it, you're own set of tools is enough to keep you going. Most parents are overprotective and do not allow their children to face the hardships in life until it's too late. You grow up in a bubble, and the reality hits you like a brick on the face. When you travel, you will learn one of life's most important skills, self reliance.

I remember the first time I visited Venice, I was alone by myself, only got 2 euros in my pocket (I had enough cash but in a different currency which isn't acceptable in the local area), without an internet connection and even got lost, since the city was pretty sketchy. It didn't bother me. Instead, you'll find it more valuable. Nothing like being lost in Venice where every corner has beautiful little bridges that serves you a very peaceful view. One's paddling the Gondola, while some walks slowly and taking their time, with their eyes mesmerized. You have to trust yourself and understand that life's circumstances aren't bad at all and sometimes it'll lead you to somewhere even more beautiful.

9. IT FORCES YOU TO BE MORE SOCIAL

People says we're always connected because of how technology develops. But a digital world is an invisible world. Sometimes, people lack of personality because they no longer go out to form one. Due to our indoor existence, we are forming our personalities based on almost the same type of pattern provided on the internet, until we become products of what companies wants us to be. When we travel, we get to have real life conversations, talking to people we don't know and learning from them. Our connection should be invested in real people, from our neighborhood to the world.

10. THERE WILL BE NO MORE WARS

It's only when you travel that you will realize how big and diverse our world really is, but also how similar we are as one people. What if world war III would happen. The people that will be harmed are the people you became friends with, the people you met in the cafe, or in carnival, people who gave you a lift, gave you recipes, people who smiled at you on the streets, or the receptionists who are very courteous, the children you saw on their way to school because they have dreams. You will realize it's never going to be okay to see them injured or get killed. I think, even world leaders would feel the same.

People are our most treasured gifts in this life. Go meet them. Let them see we are all one too. If we could do that, we can change the world. One traveling peace maker at a time.

[naturepointstheway]

Day 30/30: “Days in the Sun Will Come Shining Through”

Finally. We come to the end, and okay, I may have cheated a little and used one of my earliest BatB fics back in June, but I expanded and improved on it, so...it’s both old and new in a way, and don’t worry, it all ends on a happy note. Perhaps think of it like what a lot of artists do, doing a redraw of a piece of artwork they did a year ago (or six months ago or whatever), but in this case it’s with an old piece of writing done five months ago. 

For the curious, here’s the original prompt from back in June that had come from @morgaine2005

Stars burned bright for the first time in forever in a gloriously cloudless night sky above the castle, as though they too rejoiced in the return of the prince to his human being. Much revelry inside and outside of the castle had gone on for hours, nay, days now, but who could blame the people for rejoicing that they were human again and were reunited with loved ones? Who could blame Plumette and Lumiere for spending quality hours behind a locked door (and unlocked doors)? Who could fault the prince for spending hours with Belle, telling her all that had happened in his life, in the comfort of her arms? Who could blame Mrs Potts for almost never letting Chip out of her sight, bestowing him with cuddles and kisses whenever she could to make up for all that lost time?

No one, not least of all, Prince Adam, could find it in themselves to blame anyone for wanting to rejoice. Yet, despite his own overwhelming relief and happiness at the curse’s undoing, Prince Adam found himself desiring quiet away from the crowds. He couldn’t remember a single time before the curse when he had ever desired such a thing. Once, he desperately longed to be in the centre of attention at festivities and parties, but now he found himself just as—if not more so—content being on the periphery of the crowd.

It was on one of these joyous evenings, bubbling over with song, music, and dance, that the prince quietly slipped away, leaving Belle to chat with much animation to Plumette, with whom she had become instant companions, like they had been friends all their lives. He had to smile internally when he saw just how much they were the best of friends, and a well of happiness for Belle filled him on knowing she finally found the companion she never had the chance to have for most of her life.

On this particular night, the prince wandered down candlelit hallways resonating with song from the ballroom, where Garderobe was giving it her all. Cadenza’s passionate harpsichord melodies lilted and danced and twirled down on the warm, summer air that wafted through the windows of the palace. Without really thinking about it, he began humming along with the melody, letting its romantic notes fill every part of his soul with its beauty. He even found himself dancing along to it, waltzing in tandem with the melody.

After a while of wandering the halls on feather-light feet, Adam stopped before a doorway that opened out onto a quiet balcony of the castle. It had been left ajar; perhaps someone had already gone out on the balcony to catch some quiet and fresh air, maybe even gaze upon the stars stretching from horizon to horizon. Perhaps they stood out there now, hands on the ledge of the balcony, eyes closed as they inhaled the sweet scent of night-time deep into their very soul. And was that a shooting star that just streaked across the sky, so bright that it left behind an impression of itself on Adam’s eyelids?

May as well go watch the stars too, Adam decided, pushing the door a little more as he stepped outside, and enjoy some peace and quiet.

The prince strolled out, his shoes tapping against the stone floor as he approached the balcony’s edge. Once he reached the ledge, he leaned forward on it, eyes still gazing upon the dazzling night sky. His elbows dug into the stone still warm from the day’s sunshine. His hands clasped together over the ledge, hanging out in mid-air as he listened to his own thoughts.

Curious, isn’t this? Curious that I should love the quiet when once upon a time I sneered at the idea.

As he stared up at the twinkling stars coating the sky in glittering magic, he listened again to the loud, clear music in the distance–Cadenza and his wife were still playing into the night for an adoring audience. The prince was sure that the couple could play well into the next dawn if they so desired, fuelled by nothing but their passion for the art of music.

“Care to enlighten me with your thoughts?”

Adam flinched in surprise at the new voice, turning aside to see Lumiere had joined him, a tall glass of champagne in each hand. Right now, he was offering one to the prince, who accepted it with a quiet thank you.

“To happiness, mon ami,” Lumiere said, raising his glass to clink it with Adam’s.

“It’s been a long time coming,” Adam mused as he turned around to lean his back against the railings, unconsciously mimicking Lumiere’s own cross-legged stance. “Where did you come from?”

“Paris?”

“I didn’t see you on the balcony.”

“I was here all along, my prince! You just didn’t see me, that’s all. Plumette’s still talking with Belle, I take it?”

“Like they’ve been friends all their lives.”

“Ahh, here, let’s have another toast—to friendship.”

Adam couldn’t help a small grin when their glasses clinked, Lumiere taking a long gulp from his own glass, draining it.

“I’m glad for Belle that she’s found such a good friend in Plumette,” Adam said, “I don’t think she’s ever had a best friend in her whole life before she came here to this castle.”

“Poor cheri, but she is happy now, non?”

“Happier than she has ever been in her whole life.”

Lumiere raised his glass as though to toast again, then made a show of astonishment when he saw it was empty. He left Adam’s side to quickly grab the bottle from where he’d left it on the ledge farther away before returning, glass already filled. He offered the bottle to Adam, who shook his head as he lifted his own glass, still half-full.

“A toast to our Belle,” Lumiere declared, clinking his glass against Adam’s again. “She has been the light of our lives since she came to the castle. And to think it all started with being clobbered by a stool.”

Adam accidentally inhaled his sip of champagne at the unexpected comment, coughing and wincing as the liquid burned down his throat. Lumiere thumped him on the back until his coughing mostly subsided.

“Let’s not drown our joys in champagne, Adam. Drowning your sorrows is one thing, but joy is another.”

“Context. Now.”

“The stool? Oh, nothing too dramatic—don’t scoff!—except for Belle smacking me with a stool when I first introduced myself to her in the tower. She was lucky you weren’t there.”

Adam didn’t have to try too hard to imagine his outrage had he been there to witness it. He always had a zero tolerance approach to anyone harming his staff—especially those he’d known his whole life long—or anybody else in his household. He might have yelled at his servants, but he would never have laid a finger on them, not like his father would have done.

“Lucky it was you she met, then,” Adam said, “And not someone in a more fragile form.”

A brief silence passed between them, both men trying not to imagine what could have happened had that been the case.

“She must have known,” Adam said, right out of the blue, earning a confused look from Lumiere. “The Enchantress. She must have somehow known I wouldn’t hurt any of you. Why else would she allow some of the household to be transformed into fragile household items?”

“You know…” Lumiere leaned his elbow on the ledge, resting the side of his head against his hand as he studied the prince in some thought. “I think she sensed there was still some goodness in you left.”

Adam scoffed a second time.

“Don’t scoff, my prince,” Lumiere said, “Mrs Potts was discussing this with us the other day, you know. Said she always had faith in you all along, even when we…well. Let’s just say some of us lost all hope.”

“I probably deserved it back then. You all were unhappy.”

“You think so?”

“You were serving a ruler who treated his subjects in an appalling manner. I mistreated my people,” Adam’s voice threatened to crack, and he stopped, trying to take a deep breath, “I should have been overthrown.”

“And you weren’t.”

“Eventually, Lumiere, had the Enchantress not come along that night. You and I know full well.”

Silence again.

“Why didn’t you and the others leave with the guests?” Adam asked after a time, “It was your chance to flee from the castle.”

“We couldn’t just leave you, mon prince, not when you were in so much agony.”

“You could have run while you had the chance.”

“And we didn’t, did we?”

“You wouldn’t have been cursed with me.”

“And you would have been all alone, and what would you have done then?”

“I—” Adam’s voice caught in his throat, staring over at another part of the castle silhouetted against the night. He could see it from here, that tower that he had climbed, the highest point of the castle, that night when the hunter shot him. “I don’t know.”

“You know full well.”

“I do?”

“Adam, how long have I known you?”

“A while.”

“If by a while you mean since you were about five or six, then yes, I’ve known you a while. Long enough to know well what you would have done had you been completely alone.”

Another few moments of quiet passed, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, even if shrouded in sobriety.

“I couldn’t have lived with myself had you become inanimate for good,” Adam confessed, “At least you and the others made it. Belle broke the curse in time to prevent you turning inanimate forever.”

The silence that followed, somehow hesitant and sombre, unsettled the prince.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.” 

It wasn’t a question or accusation from the prince, but the words of a friend to another whom they knew all too well. There was something heavy in Lumiere’s silence, an unspoken refutation of the prince’s own assumption they never turned inanimate. A chill crept down his spine, and he opened his mouth but found he couldn’t voice what he wished to ask. Fortunately, he was saved this difficult question when Lumiere confirmed it in a few words.

“We did become inanimate, at least a little while. Fortunately,” Lumiere’s voice lightened again, leaning back toward its more usual tones, “A certain young cheri was just in time.” 

“Belle…” 

“Belle,” Lumiere agreed, now placing a firm, confident hand on the prince’s shoulder. “As for me, old friend, I am a phoenix. Burn me and I shall return, rising from the ashes.” 

Despite himself, Adam couldn’t help a jovial laugh at Lumiere’s dramatic words.

“And what would I be? The terrible troll under the bridge?”

“The Beast in the enchanted castle,” Lumiere said without missing a beat, “Who awaits romance to save the day, and save the day it did.”

“Not without dying first.”

“Love looked the Grim Reaper dead in the eyes and thus said, you will not defeat me yet. Love then turned on its heel and walked out of Hades back to the land of the living, and voila! Here we stand, triumphant against death.”

“That’s…very dramatic.”

Lumiere laughed, raising his glass, “To our penchant for the dramatic.”

“Really?”

“My glass awaits.”

Adam shook his head in amusement, but clinked his glass with Lumiere’s nevertheless. Lumiere pointed at the prince.

“Your turn to come up with something to toast to next time. It can’t all be on my shoulders.”

“I don’t know what to toast to.”

“Anything. The stars, the music, the sun, anything.”

“We’re going to be here all night just toasting to everything if you had your way.”

“I would never!”

“You’d toast to every individual guest if you could.”

“Excuse me, I am the maître d’ of the castle.”

“Point taken.”

“So, what will you toast to?”

Adam considered the question, stopping himself in time from saying an automatic “I don’t know”. Lumiere was right, really—there was so many things he could toast to; there were so many things he was grateful for that deserved a toast. Most certainly, he was grateful, eternally so, for Belle having coming into his life. And he was also grateful for those who had stayed loyal despite everything that had happened, even if he still wondered if he deserved such loyalty.

What was it about them? What was it that kept them going? What was it about Belle that made me feel…

That’s what it was. Hope. Hope that maybe things would turn out alright in the end. And it did, it really did. Adam raised his glass, Lumiere’s face breaking out into a grin.

“And? What shall we toast to, mon prince?”

“To your unfailing hope that days in the sun will come shining through,” Adam declared, “And to the future full of more days in the sun.”

“Perfect.”

Clink!

#Beauty and the Beast #and fittingly it's just sunrise #the sun is shining through #the window to the east in my bedroom

[awakeindeath]

Back To Work

"Hey Mom," I said into my phone as I walked out of the back door of my home. The night air was cool enough to give me goosebumps and send a shiver up my back. It didn't help that my arms were soaked up to the elbow.  It was fall, the leaves were well into changing, with half paper bag brown and the rest still bright green.  I lived out of family's old farm. The barn and house still stood but the farmland had long ago been sold to some large corporation. We were surrounded by open fields that spread out to the horizon, with other homes and buildings barely visible as shadows in the distance. The corn had been harvested a few weeks ago, leaving only the refuse of dried stalks and brown dirt. We were far away from the city, a mile or so from my closest neighbor. The sky was clear and the night was bright with stars and the moon, enough so that I cast a shadow as I stood. My roommate, Alice sat in a lawn chair next to the unlit fire pit, a cigarette held loose in her lips and a can of beer on the grass next to her. She looked like a poster girl for hot redneck. Light brown hair, sun-dark skin, John Deere hat, NASCAR shirt, torn jean shorts, and worn cowboy boots. She sat spread out like a languid spider, without a single muscle in her body working to hold her up. She didn't look up as I came outside. Just kept staring at the cold, charred logs of last night's bonfire.

"Leo is missing." My mom's voice was tired. Normally, those sorts of statements carried some kind of fear or worry. But my mom sounded resigned.

"Leo?" I asked.

"Your sister's boyfriend," Mom said.

"Her boyfriend is a douche" Alice muttered, life starting to come into her as she began reactivating.

"Shut up Alice," I growled as I flopped into the chair next to her.

"Gonna have to clean that up." Alice pointed to the mess I was leaving on the chair.

"Still got that going on, huh?" Mom asked.

"Got what?"

"That Alice thing."

"It's not a thing. She's just my roommate."

"Bullshit, you need to take of that. Get rid of her. For good this time."

"Mom. Missing Boyfriend." I had to cut her off. She would go on and on and on forever about how Alice was unhealthy for me. She was probably right, but I couldn’t abandon Alice. She’d been with me too long.

"Oh. Yeah. Your sister went home from the shelter last night and found her house was torn up. Like another fight happened. Leo was nowhere to be seen."

"Well, that's a good thing isn't it?"

"I think it's a good thing," Alice said as she sat up and stretched, arms reaching for the sky.

"The police are looking around and talking to people, but they have no idea what happened to him," Mom said.

"Well, I mean, that sucks. Anything I can do?" I sat in the chair next to Alice and took the cigarette out of her mouth, put it to my lips and drew in a long breath.

"You've already done enough. I just wanted to let you know what is going on." Mom's breathing paused for a moment before going on. "I'm not going to ask about what you're doing. I just want you to stay out of town for a bit. Ok? Don't come in and complicate things. Just… stay safe. Ok?"

"I will mom. Don't worry," I said into the phone, eyes cast down to watch droplets fall from my hand to splatter on the concrete. The wind seemed to get colder, like an undetectable breeze shot into my bones. Mom knew. She at least suspected. I looked up at Alice, who met my gaze with her own gold brown eyes

"Ok, I love you."

"I love you too Mom."

"How long do you think she's known about us?" Alice asked as I hung up. Ugh. My phone was covered. I tossed it onto the chair next to me and ran my fingers through my hair.

"Don't worry. I'll shower tonight when we're done." I smirked at the grimace Alice shot me.

"So, you think the police are going to come around here?" Alice asked.

"I doubt it. I haven't talked to my sister in over a year, after all. No reason to think I had anything to do with her boyfriend disappearing." I stood up and walked back towards the house, Alice following silently behind me as walked back into the kitchen. The inside of the farmhouse was all wood and old linoleum. The white paint was peeling off the walls and every corner seemed to have a cobweb in it. My grandparents owned this house before they died. Granddad worked the fields and Grandma raised cows and chickens out in the red barn. It was idyllic, in a lot of ways. You could go outside and run and play and get dirty for hours on end. There was always something to discover, always something to find. They died and I moved in. Now dust covered most surfaces, the barn was half collapsed, and what land was left was almost entirely overgrown. The only parts of the house that remained in good repair where my bedroom and the basement.

I was heading to the basement now.

The door to the basement was heavy, reinforced wood. Heavy locks and a sliding bar on the outside kept everything nice and secure. Alice and I installed this door not long after I moved in.

"How does it feel?"  Alice asked as I pulled back the bar and opened the door. The stairs leading down were brightly lit concrete with snow-white walls leading down to a second door at the bottom. My steps rang in the tight space of the stairwell. Alice was silent behind me. When I reached the bottom, she put a hand on my shoulder, seemingly weightless but it stopped me in my tracks. "Hey. Answer me. How does it feel?"

"You know how it feels."

"Before, yeah. This is different. You've never done it like this before."

"I know. But, it still feels right. Like it's what needs to be done."

"You're actually enjoying it?" She sounded pleased.

"Yeah. I mean. Why shouldn't I?"

"You never had before. Not like this."

"It's different. I think. But maybe I just hadn't let myself explore. You remember what Mom said?"

"That you needed to expand your horizons." Alice laughed. "I think she meant so that you might finally get rid of me."

"I'm never getting rid of you."

"Damn straight." Alice laughed as I unlocked the door and pushed it open. The basement was a simple open room. When my grandparents owned the house, it had been a storage cellar. Stone walls, open floor, and a drain pipe that kept any leaking rain from collecting. Now that I lived here, the shelves and cabinets were long gone. Now the walls only had hooks and racks upon which I stored my larger tools. The only table was covered by my tools. Mostly different knives, hooks, power tools, and saws. Right now several of them were covered in blood. Cleaning them would be a pain later, it always was. For now, tho, the man strapped to the operating table in the middle of the room was what was all that mattered.

"Hello, Leo," I said as I stepped up to the surgical table. He was a big man, barely fit on my table. Over six feet tall and muscular in that powerlifter sort of way. Heavy muscle built up over layers. All power, no speed. He'd been on his way to being in the World's Strongest Man competition in a few years. Given that his arms were hanging from meat hooks over the drain, I doubted his chances. I checked the bandages on his shoulder stumps. Tourniquets were on tight, and the salt pack was keeping any small leaks from forming.  Leo groaned into the ball gag, by now he was starting to wake back up. He'd lost a lot of blood when I amputated his arms "I hope you're comfortable. Honestly, I've never had someone your size down here before."

"He looks pale still. You should give him more blood." Alice said, standing across the victim from me.

"You're right."  Changing the bag on the I.V. going into his neck took only a second. With the new blood going directly to his brain, Leo perked right back up and tried to struggle. But again, no arms. They never realize what that really means. Keep trying to flail around. I l laughed at the sight as I picked up a carpet knife and examined its edge. More for Leo’s sake than my own. My tools were always in the best repair.

“What’s next?” Alice asked, giddiness beginning to bubble up in her voice.

“I’m thinking legs,” I said slowly, drawing out the sounds. Leo looked around, trying to find who I was talking to.

"I see why your sister liked him. He's hot," Alice said.

"And stupid. And violent." I touched the taut skin on his naked thigh, my finger running down the indentation of the muscles. "You have a lot of muscle.  It's impressive."

"It's going to be a pain to cut through." Alice pointed out.

"Yeah. But I think it'll be worthwhile. A lot of good meat there."  I smiled up at her while Leo looked back and forth, trying to follow my gaze, to figure out who I was talking to. I leaned over him and pressed my knife into the flesh of his thigh... "Back to work."

#Short Story #Fiction #original #creative writing

[gethealthy18-blog]

10 Tips To Find Yourself When You Are Feeling Lost

New Post has been published on http://healingawerness.com/getting-healthy/getting-healthy-women/10-tips-to-find-yourself-when-you-are-feeling-lost/

10 Tips To Find Yourself When You Are Feeling Lost

Harini Natarajan Hyderabd040-395603080 September 16, 2019

The greatest and most important purpose of our lives is to discover who we truly are. So many of us go through life not really knowing ourselves. Some of us are so busy listening to the awful inner critic that feeds us all the wrong notions about ourselves. We carry on living life without asking the biggest question that has plagued mankind since inception – who am I?

You may feel that finding yourself may be a self-centered goal, but is it really? To be a valuable human in society and the best partner, parent, and child, we first have to know who we are. We need to be aware of what we have to offer and what we value. This is a personal journey every individual will benefit from embarking on.

“What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” – Mary Oliver

What if you had a perfectly peaceful life, and suddenly, because of a situational change, find yourself struggling mentally and spiritually? Whether you are feeling lost because of your relationship, job, or as a parent, or simply feeling lost in life, you have to remember this – you are not alone. Just because you are having a hard day, month, or year, it doesn’t mean your life is over and that you will never find happiness or yourself again. Life gets hard when you are meant to go through a transformation period. The secret is not to get stuck in your current lost state and use your creative power and positivity to create the life you want to live.

Here are a few tips that will help you pull yourself out of this lost state. They will remind you that you have the power to create a life you will love to live.

1. Go On A Soul Searching Adventure

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Whether it is hiking in the forest, a week-long drive along the coast, or a solitary retreat, go out and explore the wonderful world. This will give you the focus and time you need to reconnect with yourself again. You will be away from the disturbing noise of your daily life. You will get a chance to experience the world again, with fresh eyes. However, don’t embark on this journey by going out with toxic people or putting toxic substances in your body that will alter your ability to decipher things. When you come back, you will find that you have far more clarity than you had when you embarked on this soul searching adventure.

2. Do Things You Used To Love To Do

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Do you remember the last time you laughed your heart out? Do you remember when things were not complicated and situations not depressing? It is not that things have changed drastically – it is likely because you were completely engrossed in enjoying the moment and didn’t much care about the hardships of life.

As we age, we lose sight of how beautiful life is. We take it upon ourselves to feel bored because of the mundane parts of life and are burdened by its responsibilities. If you are feeling lost, it is time to reconnect with who you are and what you love. Don’t make excuses about not having the money, resources, or time. People make time for things they think are important. Make a commitment to yourself to do what you love and watch your life change for the better.

3. Get Out Of Your Comfort Zone

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It’s time to get uncomfortable! Yes, you read it right! You need to push yourself out of your comfort zone by meeting new people and trying new things. Growth doesn’t happen on its own. You can’t stay in your comfortable bubble, where everything is familiar, and expect life to be exciting.

Challenge yourself. Do something that is mildly terrifying, yet invigorating at the same time – something that makes you feel alive. Stretch yourself just enough so that you continue to evolve and grow. What’s the first thing you thought of when you read the word terrifying? Go and do that!

4. Dream Big

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Remember the dreams you had before you lost touch with them as life went on? Do you think that they are impossible, improbable, or childish because of who you are today? Grab a journal and write down the dreams you once had for yourself. Better yet, see new ones.

If you could be whoever you wanted, what would you be? What would you like to achieve? What would you like to do? What exactly is your soul aching for? When you reconnect with your dreams, you will once again have the inspiration and desire to take action towards achieving them. You will suddenly realize you have found yourself again.

5. Be Quiet And Listen

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There are messages, signs, and guideposts that the universe has laid out for you. They will inspire you to better yourself, but you can only hear or see them when your heart and eyes are open. With all the constant mind chatter we have nowadays, it can be difficult to understand and decipher the signs that are all around us. So, be quiet and listen.

Pay close attention to the songs on the radio, signs on the road, and the people you meet. They are all messengers who will help you move forward in life.

6. Ask For Help If You Need It

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There are numerous people whose purpose in life is to help people who are lost. Reach out to them and ask for help. It could be a religious figure, life coach, mentor, counselor, a psychologist, a friend, or a teacher – whoever you feel comfortable with.

You don’t have to figure life out all on your own. Sometimes, even talking to someone sensible can provide you the insight you need. Conversation is one of the methods through which we gain knowledge and expand our horizons.

7. Accept That You Have The Ability To Be, Have, And Do Anything You Want

Shutterstock

Sometimes, you are so consumed with feeling lost that you forget that you can choose how you feel and what you think about. You possess a great amount of power. You have the ability to get the answers you are seeking and create the life you desire. Whether you use want to use affirmations, mantras, yoga, meditation, journaling, or something else is totally up to you.

It is important to focus on the joy and beauty present all around you. When you decide to be happy, the universe sends you more happiness as well as the answers you are seeking.

8. Understand Your Past

Shutterstock

To understand who we are and why we behave the way we do, we need to know our own story. Exploring your past is an important step to understanding yourself and becoming who you want to be. It isn’t just the things that happen to us that define who we are, but how much we have made sense of it.

Traumas from our history that are still unresolved affect the ways we act. Painful life experiences generally determine how we defend ourselves after growing up. To break this influence, it is important to acknowledge what is causing us to feel what we feel. We should always look at the source of our self-destructive or self-limiting tendencies.

9. Be Generous And Compassionate

Shutterstock

As Mahatma Gandhi famously said, “The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others.” To lengthen your lifespan and improve your mental and physical health, you need to practice generosity. It can enhance one’s sense of purpose. It provides more value and meaning to your life.

You can get way more joy from giving than from receiving. It is best to practice generosity and have a compassionate attitude toward others and ourselves. People who care and show concern for others are generally happier.

10. Value Friendship

Shutterstock

We do not have the power to choose the family we are born into. But we assume that family defines who we are as people. However, we can choose our friends. We have the power to create a family of choice. But we need to be wise about this. We need to seek out people who support us, who are positive, who make us happy, and who inspire us.

This may include people we are related to by blood as well, but it is meant to be a family we have really chosen. This core group of humans has people who are our true friends and allies. This is key to finding ourselves because who we choose to be around has a profound effect on how we perceive life. Having a great support system that believes in us and supports us in reaching our goals leads to development and growth on a personal level.

Become who you want to be. This may sound obvious, but it is certainly something worth noting. You have earned this life, and it is yours – so be yourself and be happy. The idea of unlocking your true potential and finding yourself may seem like a challenge. However, you can rediscover yourself and be who you want to be with the right strategy and focus.

Hope you liked this article. Do share your feedback with us in the comments section below.

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Source: https://www.stylecraze.com/articles/how-to-find-yourself-again/

[samuelfields]

Patient Capital: The Key To Long-Term Wealth Creation

Liquidity is overrated. Once you have about six months worth of living expenses saved, there’s really no need to hoard even more cash since you have insurance. If you do accumulate more cash, that’s called “cash drag” because cash returns have underperformed assets such as stocks, bonds, and real estate since the beginning of our financial markets.

Once you identify a trend, your goal should be to buy assets that benefit from that trend, and hold on for as long as possible. Of course, if you think an impending bear market is on the horizon, holding more cash is good. However, over the long-term, having too much liquidity I argue is a detriment.

When I first came to San Francisco in 2001 from Manhattan, I discovered that San Francisco property was so cheap compared to Manhattan property, yet wages were quite similar. Consequently, I bought all the real estate my salary could afford in 2003, 2005, and 2014, and held on for as long as possible.

Now, I foresee a similar long-term trend happening in the heartland of America because San Francisco and other coastal cities have gotten too expensive and technology makes living in a congested area while paying $4,500/month for rent, unnecessary and obsolete. Companies located in high cost of living areas can’t comfortably afford to hire workers, and the workers can’t comfortably afford to save for retirement and raise a family.

Every single one of my biggest investment wins has occurred because I waited 10 years or longer before selling. There was only one stock that I made an enormous return in just six months, but that was dotcom bubble luck. On the other hand, there are plenty of stocks I lost tons of money on because I got shaken out way too early. If I had held on, I would have been much better off. 

The Potential Benefits of Patient Capital

I define Patient Capital as investments that often take at least five years to see a return. Patient Capital consists of investments in real estate, private equity, and your own business.

Patient capital is why the world’s wealthiest people and the largest institutional funds have a minority of their net worth in public investments.

They know that by removing the temptation to get in and out of investments during times of volatility, they stand a better chance to make higher returns.

Think about all the people who freaked out during the 2008-2010 crisis and sold stocks and real estate at the bottom. They are kicking themselves now for not holding on.

Further, patient capital realizes there are potential arbitrage opportunities to exploit in illiquid investments. When you don’t have the entire world competing against you, it’s much easier to find opportunities.

Let’s take a look at the latest asset allocation of the ~$30 billion Yale endowment fund, which has returned 11.8% a year for the past 20 years.

What stands out most from Yale’s asset allocation is how little there is in traditional Domestic Equity (3%) and Bonds And Cash (6.5%). 90%+ of their assets are in patient capital investments.

Their 26% asset allocation into Absolute Return are investments in hedge funds that likely have a blend of long-short equity and credit investments. However, these funds have long-term lockups as well.

Here’s an asset allocation breakdown by net worth that shows how patient capital grows with wealth. The asset that grows with wealth the most is Business Interests. While the assets that shrink the most are Primary Residence and Liquid.

Illiquidity Premium

In a key study 25 years ago, Michael Jensen of Harvard University argued that the tradable nature of any public corporation generates an inherent discount because of the fundamental conflict between those who bear the risk (shareholders) and those who manage the risk (executives) over the payout of free cash flow.

Jensen noted that public corporations tend to hold twice the amount of cash as private companies, which by contrast exhibit higher equity ownership by managers and more leveraged corporate structures that help limit the non-utilization of free cash flow.

Private companies were thus seen as better aligning the interests of owners and managers, and in fact appeared to Mr. Jensen to achieve “remarkable gains in operating efficiency, employee productivity, and shareholder value.”

Obviously, the poorer you are, the less you can afford to tie up your capital in patient investments. But if you want to get wealthy, your goal is to THINK and ACT like the wealthy. When I need a dose of inspiration, I go running amidst the mansions in Pacific Heights. I don’t go to the mall and splurge on things I don’t need.

When you have a lot of liquidity, financial discipline tends to get thrown out the window. The cash burns a hole in your pocket, waiting to get spent. This phenomenon is why paying yourself first is a fundamental principle behind good personal finance habits. The government pays itself first by forcing companies to deduct taxes from each paycheck because it knows there will be a huge revenue shortfall if it does not.

Without liquidity, your temptation to spend on things you don’t need goes away. The longer you can lock up your patient capital, the more time you give your investments to compound. Being able to more easily sit tight is why real estate is one of my favorite asset classes to build long-term wealth.

Earnings is the main thing that matters in the long run

What is Illiquidity Worth?

One study focusing on hedge funds shows that funds with longer “lockups” (which enable managers to invest in less liquid holdings) tend to earn higher returns than those without

The data there indicated that fund returns actually rise as their lock-up period increases, from a median of 4.5% for funds with lock-ups of less than a fiscal quarter up to a median return of almost 13% for funds with a two- to three-year lock-up.

But yes, hedge fund returns overall have lagged behind the S&P 500 since the financial crisis since it’s been a bull market since.

Another study by researchers from the universities of Chicago, Virginia and Oxford showed that while venture capital results varied, U.S. buyout funds generally outperformed publicly traded equities by as much as 3% annually.

To capture some of the illiquidity premia, institutions and endowments typically hold a significant portion of their portfolio in alternative investments as we saw with the Yale endowment example.

Are individual investors missing out on the illiquidity premium? Institutional investors seem to understand this.

The Real Estate Illiquidity Premium

For the average person, real estate is the most obvious place to invest patient capital. It takes a big commitment to get in if you are buying property individually, and there are fees and taxes to pay if you want to get out. But over time, as you pay down debt and watch rents and principal grow, your equity starts to expand.

Paying down debt becomes an unconscious habit because your mortgage is on auto-deduct. Rents tend to go up over time simply due to inflation. If you can also capture principal appreciation, then I dare say you will likely return a handsome profit if you can hold on for 10+ years.

If you don’t want to own and manage your own property, then real estate finance marketplaces can help smooth the way for investors to participate in private investments that can potentially help them realize the real estate illiquidity premium.

My long-term wealth creation plan is to continue investing in real estate and building an online business. As luck would have it, both assets are synergistic because I can write about real estate.

Stocks, on the other hand, continue to create the greatest challenge for me in terms of patient capital. The slow rise and quick decimation of stocks forces me to limit my overall stock exposure to no more than 25% of my net worth.

Related posts:

Suggested Net Worth Asset Allocation By Age Or Work Experience

Why Real Estate Will Always Be More Desirable Than Stocks

Readers, what have been your best long-term investments? What are your favorite asset classes for patient capital?

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[mcjoelcain]

Patient Capital: The Key To Long-Term Wealth Creation

Liquidity is overrated. Once you have about six months worth of living expenses saved, there’s really no need to hoard even more cash since you have insurance. If you do accumulate more cash, that’s called “cash drag” because cash returns have underperformed assets such as stocks, bonds, and real estate since the beginning of our financial markets.

Once you identify a trend, your goal should be to buy assets that benefit from that trend, and hold on for as long as possible. Of course, if you think an impending bear market is on the horizon, holding more cash is good. However, over the long-term, having too much liquidity I argue is a detriment.

When I first came to San Francisco in 2001 from Manhattan, I discovered that San Francisco property was so cheap compared to Manhattan property, yet wages were quite similar. Consequently, I bought all the real estate my salary could afford in 2003, 2005, and 2014, and held on for as long as possible.

Now, I foresee a similar long-term trend happening in the heartland of America because San Francisco and other coastal cities have gotten too expensive and technology makes living in a congested area while paying $4,500/month for rent, unnecessary and obsolete. Companies located in high cost of living areas can’t comfortably afford to hire workers, and the workers can’t comfortably afford to save for retirement and raise a family.

Every single one of my biggest investment wins has occurred because I waited 10 years or longer before selling. There was only one stock that I made an enormous return in just six months, but that was dotcom bubble luck. On the other hand, there are plenty of stocks I lost tons of money on because I got shaken out way too early. If I had held on, I would have been much better off. 

The Potential Benefits of Patient Capital

I define Patient Capital as investments that often take at least five years to see a return. Patient Capital consists of investments in real estate, private equity, and your own business.

Patient capital is why the world’s wealthiest people and the largest institutional funds have a minority of their net worth in public investments.

They know that by removing the temptation to get in and out of investments during times of volatility, they stand a better chance to make higher returns.

Think about all the people who freaked out during the 2008-2010 crisis and sold stocks and real estate at the bottom. They are kicking themselves now for not holding on.

Further, patient capital realizes there are potential arbitrage opportunities to exploit in illiquid investments. When you don’t have the entire world competing against you, it’s much easier to find opportunities.

Let’s take a look at the latest asset allocation of the ~$30 billion Yale endowment fund, which has returned 11.8% a year for the past 20 years.

What stands out most from Yale’s asset allocation is how little there is in traditional Domestic Equity (3%) and Bonds And Cash (6.5%). 90%+ of their assets are in patient capital investments.

Their 26% asset allocation into Absolute Return are investments in hedge funds that likely have a blend of long-short equity and credit investments. However, these funds have long-term lockups as well.

Here’s an asset allocation breakdown by net worth that shows how patient capital grows with wealth. The asset that grows with wealth the most is Business Interests. While the assets that shrink the most are Primary Residence and Liquid.

Illiquidity Premium

In a key study 25 years ago, Michael Jensen of Harvard University argued that the tradable nature of any public corporation generates an inherent discount because of the fundamental conflict between those who bear the risk (shareholders) and those who manage the risk (executives) over the payout of free cash flow.

Jensen noted that public corporations tend to hold twice the amount of cash as private companies, which by contrast exhibit higher equity ownership by managers and more leveraged corporate structures that help limit the non-utilization of free cash flow.

Private companies were thus seen as better aligning the interests of owners and managers, and in fact appeared to Mr. Jensen to achieve “remarkable gains in operating efficiency, employee productivity, and shareholder value.”

Obviously, the poorer you are, the less you can afford to tie up your capital in patient investments. But if you want to get wealthy, your goal is to THINK and ACT like the wealthy. When I need a dose of inspiration, I go running amidst the mansions in Pacific Heights. I don’t go to the mall and splurge on things I don’t need.

When you have a lot of liquidity, financial discipline tends to get thrown out the window. The cash burns a hole in your pocket, waiting to get spent. This phenomenon is why paying yourself first is a fundamental principle behind good personal finance habits. The government pays itself first by forcing companies to deduct taxes from each paycheck because it knows there will be a huge revenue shortfall if it does not.

Without liquidity, your temptation to spend on things you don’t need goes away. The longer you can lock up your patient capital, the more time you give your investments to compound. Being able to more easily sit tight is why real estate is one of my favorite asset classes to build long-term wealth.

Earnings is the main thing that matters in the long run

What is Illiquidity Worth?

One study focusing on hedge funds shows that funds with longer “lockups” (which enable managers to invest in less liquid holdings) tend to earn higher returns than those without

The data there indicated that fund returns actually rise as their lock-up period increases, from a median of 4.5% for funds with lock-ups of less than a fiscal quarter up to a median return of almost 13% for funds with a two- to three-year lock-up.

But yes, hedge fund returns overall have lagged behind the S&P 500 since the financial crisis since it’s been a bull market since.

Another study by researchers from the universities of Chicago, Virginia and Oxford showed that while venture capital results varied, U.S. buyout funds generally outperformed publicly traded equities by as much as 3% annually.

To capture some of the illiquidity premia, institutions and endowments typically hold a significant portion of their portfolio in alternative investments as we saw with the Yale endowment example.

Are individual investors missing out on the illiquidity premium? Institutional investors seem to understand this.

The Real Estate Illiquidity Premium

For the average person, real estate is the most obvious place to invest patient capital. It takes a big commitment to get in if you are buying property individually, and there are fees and taxes to pay if you want to get out. But over time, as you pay down debt and watch rents and principal grow, your equity starts to expand.

Paying down debt becomes an unconscious habit because your mortgage is on auto-deduct. Rents tend to go up over time simply due to inflation. If you can also capture principal appreciation, then I dare say you will likely return a handsome profit if you can hold on for 10+ years.

If you don’t want to own and manage your own property, then real estate finance marketplaces can help smooth the way for investors to participate in private investments that can potentially help them realize the real estate illiquidity premium.

My long-term wealth creation plan is to continue investing in real estate and building an online business. As luck would have it, both assets are synergistic because I can write about real estate.

Stocks, on the other hand, continue to create the greatest challenge for me in terms of patient capital. The slow rise and quick decimation of stocks forces me to limit my overall stock exposure to no more than 25% of my net worth.

Related posts:

Suggested Net Worth Asset Allocation By Age Or Work Experience

Why Real Estate Will Always Be More Desirable Than Stocks

Readers, what have been your best long-term investments? What are your favorite asset classes for patient capital?

https://www.financialsamurai.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/11/Patient-Capital.m4a

The post Patient Capital: The Key To Long-Term Wealth Creation appeared first on Financial Samurai.

from Money https://www.financialsamurai.com/patient-capital-is-the-key-to-long-term-wealth/ via http://www.rssmix.com/

[ronaldmrashid]

Patient Capital: The Key To Long-Term Wealth Creation

Liquidity is overrated. Once you have about six months worth of living expenses saved, there’s really no need to hoard even more cash since you have insurance. If you do accumulate more cash, that’s called “cash drag” because cash returns have underperformed assets such as stocks, bonds, and real estate since the beginning of our financial markets.

Once you identify a trend, your goal should be to buy assets that benefit from that trend, and hold on for as long as possible. Of course, if you think an impending bear market is on the horizon, holding more cash is good. However, over the long-term, having too much liquidity I argue is a detriment.

When I first came to San Francisco in 2001 from Manhattan, I discovered that San Francisco property was so cheap compared to Manhattan property, yet wages were quite similar. Consequently, I bought all the real estate my salary could afford in 2003, 2005, and 2014, and held on for as long as possible.

Now, I foresee a similar long-term trend happening in the heartland of America because San Francisco and other coastal cities have gotten too expensive and technology makes living in a congested area while paying $4,500/month for rent, unnecessary and obsolete. Companies located in high cost of living areas can’t comfortably afford to hire workers, and the workers can’t comfortably afford to save for retirement and raise a family.

Every single one of my biggest investment wins has occurred because I waited 10 years or longer before selling. There was only one stock that I made an enormous return in just six months, but that was dotcom bubble luck. On the other hand, there are plenty of stocks I lost tons of money on because I got shaken out way too early. If I had held on, I would have been much better off. 

The Potential Benefits of Patient Capital

I define Patient Capital as investments that often take at least five years to see a return. Patient Capital consists of investments in real estate, private equity, and your own business.

Patient capital is why the world’s wealthiest people and the largest institutional funds have a minority of their net worth in public investments.

They know that by removing the temptation to get in and out of investments during times of volatility, they stand a better chance to make higher returns.

Think about all the people who freaked out during the 2008-2010 crisis and sold stocks and real estate at the bottom. They are kicking themselves now for not holding on.

Further, patient capital realizes there are potential arbitrage opportunities to exploit in illiquid investments. When you don’t have the entire world competing against you, it’s much easier to find opportunities.

Let’s take a look at the latest asset allocation of the ~$30 billion Yale endowment fund, which has returned 11.8% a year for the past 20 years.

What stands out most from Yale’s asset allocation is how little there is in traditional Domestic Equity (3%) and Bonds And Cash (6.5%). 90%+ of their assets are in patient capital investments.

Their 26% asset allocation into Absolute Return are investments in hedge funds that likely have a blend of long-short equity and credit investments. However, these funds have long-term lockups as well.

Here’s an asset allocation breakdown by net worth that shows how patient capital grows with wealth. The asset that grows with wealth the most is Business Interests. While the assets that shrink the most are Primary Residence and Liquid.

Illiquidity Premium

In a key study 25 years ago, Michael Jensen of Harvard University argued that the tradable nature of any public corporation generates an inherent discount because of the fundamental conflict between those who bear the risk (shareholders) and those who manage the risk (executives) over the payout of free cash flow.

Jensen noted that public corporations tend to hold twice the amount of cash as private companies, which by contrast exhibit higher equity ownership by managers and more leveraged corporate structures that help limit the non-utilization of free cash flow.

Private companies were thus seen as better aligning the interests of owners and managers, and in fact appeared to Mr. Jensen to achieve “remarkable gains in operating efficiency, employee productivity, and shareholder value.”

Obviously, the poorer you are, the less you can afford to tie up your capital in patient investments. But if you want to get wealthy, your goal is to THINK and ACT like the wealthy. When I need a dose of inspiration, I go running amidst the mansions in Pacific Heights. I don’t go to the mall and splurge on things I don’t need.

When you have a lot of liquidity, financial discipline tends to get thrown out the window. The cash burns a hole in your pocket, waiting to get spent. This phenomenon is why paying yourself first is a fundamental principle behind good personal finance habits. The government pays itself first by forcing companies to deduct taxes from each paycheck because it knows there will be a huge revenue shortfall if it does not.

Without liquidity, your temptation to spend on things you don’t need goes away. The longer you can lock up your patient capital, the more time you give your investments to compound. Being able to more easily sit tight is why real estate is one of my favorite asset classes to build long-term wealth.

Earnings is the main thing that matters in the long run

What is Illiquidity Worth?

One study focusing on hedge funds shows that funds with longer “lockups” (which enable managers to invest in less liquid holdings) tend to earn higher returns than those without

The data there indicated that fund returns actually rise as their lock-up period increases, from a median of 4.5% for funds with lock-ups of less than a fiscal quarter up to a median return of almost 13% for funds with a two- to three-year lock-up.

But yes, hedge fund returns overall have lagged behind the S&P 500 since the financial crisis since it’s been a bull market since.

Another study by researchers from the universities of Chicago, Virginia and Oxford showed that while venture capital results varied, U.S. buyout funds generally outperformed publicly traded equities by as much as 3% annually.

To capture some of the illiquidity premia, institutions and endowments typically hold a significant portion of their portfolio in alternative investments as we saw with the Yale endowment example.

Are individual investors missing out on the illiquidity premium? Institutional investors seem to understand this.

The Real Estate Illiquidity Premium

For the average person, real estate is the most obvious place to invest patient capital. It takes a big commitment to get in if you are buying property individually, and there are fees and taxes to pay if you want to get out. But over time, as you pay down debt and watch rents and principal grow, your equity starts to expand.

Paying down debt becomes an unconscious habit because your mortgage is on auto-deduct. Rents tend to go up over time simply due to inflation. If you can also capture principal appreciation, then I dare say you will likely return a handsome profit if you can hold on for 10+ years.

If you don’t want to own and manage your own property, then real estate finance marketplaces can help smooth the way for investors to participate in private investments that can potentially help them realize the real estate illiquidity premium.

My long-term wealth creation plan is to continue investing in real estate and building an online business. As luck would have it, both assets are synergistic because I can write about real estate.

Stocks, on the other hand, continue to create the greatest challenge for me in terms of patient capital. The slow rise and quick decimation of stocks forces me to limit my overall stock exposure to no more than 25% of my net worth.

Related posts:

Suggested Net Worth Asset Allocation By Age Or Work Experience

Why Real Estate Will Always Be More Desirable Than Stocks

Readers, what have been your best long-term investments? What are your favorite asset classes for patient capital?

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