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sodoyouknowbts · 6 years

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Yoongi x Reader - Guardian (One)

Part of the ‘Souls’ Series.

Summary: Min Yoongi is a cynical guardian angel assigned to look after you.

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (ft Hoseok)

Genre: Romance, fantasy, soul mates

Author: Pilot

Chapter One

Yoongi is standing in the kitchen drinking coffee when it happens. A shiny silver envelope materialises in front of him. It hovers, wrapped in a bubble. A deep blue seal hinges the folded edges together. Two letters in victorian script are embossed, A.A - Angel Academy.

Yoongi sips his coffee and stares at it over the edge of the cup. Angel Academy. Who came up with such an obvious name? Yoongi scoffs.

He finishes his coffee, washes the cup up in the sink and goes to sit down on the couch, ignoring the floating envelope. He pulls out his phone and scrolls through it, reading the latest news headlines.

Yoongi hears the front door shut and the sound of shoes clonking on the floor.

Hoseok walks into the kitchen holding flowers and spots the envelope.

“Ooh what is this?!” He asks, peering at the envelope. “Yoongi, this is for you. What are you doing leaving it unanswered?”

Hoseok moves past the envelope and pulls out a vase from the cupboard. He gives it a rinse and places it on the counter, arranging his assortment of sunflowers.

“It’s not mine.” Yoongi denies, paying zero attention to Hoseok’s movements.

Done with the arrangement, Hoseok moves over to the bubble and pokes it, his finger pressing into it. His finger is met with resistance. The bubble bounces back and doesn’t pop.

“Hey, it is yours. I can’t access it.”

Yoongi glances over his shoulder.

“Who are the flowers from today?” he asks, changing the subject.

“Oh those?” Hoseok turns toward the sunflowers and smiles brightly. “One of my assignments sent me these as a thanks, she’s just been accepted into university!”

Yoongi raises his brows and responds, disinterested. “Good for her.”

“You know, for a guardian angel you’re really not that nice sometimes.” Hoseok says, pulling a face. Yoongi throws his phone down on the table, closes his eyes and lays down to take a nap. Hoseok walks off to his room.

Yoongi sleeps for about ten minutes when he senses something hovering over his face. He opens one eye slowly. It’s the envelope. He waves it away and it’s pushed to the middle of the room by the breeze Yoongi had generated from the motion.

He rolls over, turning his back on the envelope. He can still feel it behind him. Frustrated, he rolls back onto his back and picks up the pillow from beneath his head and puts it over his face. He sleeps for another fifteen minutes before Hoseok pokes him awake. Yoongi slaps away his hand and sits up, disgruntled. The pillow tumbles into his lap.

“Your phone is ringing.”

Yoongi sits up, hair messy. He gets up and leans across to reach the phone. He scratches his chest and goes to the front door to collect his shoes.

“I’ll be back later.” Yoongi shuts the door behind him.

***

You stretch your arms above your head and let out a yawn, your eyes watering. You blink. You had been in the university library for a solid six hours. You bundle your hand into a fist and hit your left leg. It had fallen asleep.

You look across at your friend who is watching Youtube videos on her phone.

“I don't know how you managed to study. I kept getting distracted.” She says, pointing at her phone. “I’m dead tired.” She had only joined you half an hour ago. Her books remained untouched and strewn across the table. She had been lost in a loop of kpop videos for 30 minutes. She locks her phone.

“How do you do it?” She asks, leaning forward onto her arms, speaking into the table.

“By swapping my social life for permanent eye-bags and zero sleep.” You retort. “Ah, the life of a budding law student.”

You were in your final semester of law and journalism. You had one more exam to go. Your university debt had piled up and you had taken up odd jobs throughout the course of your degree to get a head start on it. ‘Adulting’ hadn’t come easy for you.

“Life of a budding law student or death of a budding law student?” she asks.

You raise your arm up, plotting up headlines in the air.

“Young woman found dead in library. Cause of death: case study boredom and paper cuts.” You burst out into laughter with your friend and receive a few glares from neighbouring students. You bow your head slightly in an apology.

“Please study gods, bless us in our upcoming exams. We want to be out of here!” Your friend exclaims, futilely grasping her hands together. She looks at you. “Imagine if we actually had that - or similar.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like angels. Guardian angels that opened the doors and carried our books and made everything easy and told us the answers to the exam questions!” She exclaims.

“If guardian angels are real mine is probably off somewhere drinking alcohol straight from the bottle and pretending I don’t exist.” You laugh.

You probably had needed a guardian angel when you were younger, when things were tougher and you had no one to go to. You had gotten through all of it, each trouble and difficulty becoming a new badge on your chest that became a part of what had built you and your character. You learned how to deal with things on your own. Nowadays, your problems revolved around your career, stability and money, or lack thereof.

You look out the window. It’s getting dark. You throw your eraser at your friend and it hits her squarely in the forehead and bounces off.

“Let’s go.”

***

“What’s up?” Yoongi is holding a basketball in his hands. God, he missed playing basketball. He throws it up and catches it.

He cocks a brow at the young boy who is standing in the middle of the basketball court.

“Why’d you drag me out here?” the boy asks.

“I find playing basketball a good way to clear the mind, Won Young.” Yoongi responds. “Something about the endorphins, science. Whatever.”

He looks at him. He’d been assigned Won Young two months ago. Won Young was a bright fourteen year old boy, but like most other young adolescents he was struggling to cope with the transition from childhood to adulthood. Puberty, school, home life, hormones and social pressures had been hitting him hard. It was only going to get harder.

The boy heaves a sigh and mumbles under his breath. Yoongi scowls.

“I shouldn’t have called you.”

Yoongi walks over to him, casting a shadow on the ground. Although Yoongi wouldn’t admit it, he had a soft spot for Won Young. His thoughts, feelings and mixed emotions were all things Yoongi resonated with. After all, he had felt them too, when he was the same age. Heck, he was still feeling them.

“Catch.” He throws the ball at the boy and Won Young catches it.

“Let’s play.”

Won Young begrudgingly participates. About an hour later, he’s laughing, smiling and sweaty. Yoongi had taken the opportunity to show off his ‘mad spinning’ techniques, dribbling skills and ability to shoot three pointers.

“Feeling better?” He asks him, passing him the ball.

“Yeah.”

Yoongi looks up at the sky. The sun was setting, almost hidden along the horizon.

Won Young bounces it back to Yoongi.

“I’ve been meaning to ask. Why is that envelope following you around?”

Yoongi looks over his shoulder.

“Oh, so you see it too?”

“Yeah, what is it? Is it another assignment?”

Yoongi shrugs. “Probably.”

Yoongi throws the ball at the envelope and the envelope hits the floor and rises back up.

"Are you going to keep ignoring it?”

“Haven't decided yet.” Yoongi goes to pick up the ball that’s rolled off the court and onto the grass.

“Come on. I’ll walk home with you.”

***

Yoongi pushes the door of the convenience store open. It squeaks. He stuffs his hands in the front pockets of his hoodie and heads to the back of the store.

His grip tightens around a bottle of soju. He grabs a packet of chips for good measure. He makes a sidewards glance.

The envelope is still hovering, floating behind him.

He narrows his eyes. It was going to be a troublesome one, he could feel it.

The girl in front of him is taking way too much time to pay. He looks her up and down. He clicks his tongue impatiently.

"Uh, do you need help?” He asks.

You turn around. He’s looking at you with an unimpressed expression on his face. You grow embarrassed, noting a small queue has formed behind you.

“If you’d just kindly wait a moment, I’m just trying to find my card. Thanks for your understanding.” You huff.

You rummage through your wallet trying to search for your card. Too many pockets and you had a bad habit of not putting your card back in the same little spot in your wallet. Damnit, when will I learn?

Yoongi moves past you and throws his chips down on the counter. He waves the bottle of soju up, signalling to the shop attendant. “I’ll just pay for it all.”

The boy nods, relieved and scans the chips on top of your items. You frown and round on him. Who does he think he is?!

“Um, excuse me, thank you but you don’t have to -”

Yoongi ignores you and you stop mid sentence, watching as he nonchalantly scans his card against the card reader. It’s approved instantly.

“Too late. It’s done.” he says. He nods goodbye to the attendant, leans forward and grabs his chips. He tucks the soju bottle under his arm and opens the chips, leaving the store without a second thought.

You stand there in awe and watch as he turns the corner.

***

Hoseok is sitting on the couch, cuddling a cushion. He’s watching variety shows.

“Oh, you’re back?” Hoseok calls from the lounge. Yoongi kicks off his sneakers and heads to the kitchen.

“You still haven’t opened it?!” Hoseok exclaims, eyeing the envelope.

“Nope.”

Yoongi pulls two small glasses out from the dish rack. He hands Hoseok his packet of half eaten chips and sits himself on the carpet in the lounge. He cracks open his bottle of soju and pours Hoseok a glass. Hoseok accepts it and takes a small sip, his facial expression souring. He continues to drink it anyway.

“Don't forget you need to submit your report tomorrow.” Hoseok reminds him.

Yoongi nods, eyes transfixed on the television, one leg propped up and his arm stretched out on his knee.

“The system is down so you’ll have to submit it in person.”

This catches Yoongi’s attention. “What do you mean the system is down?”

“It’s not working.”

Yoongi groans. Did this really mean he had to physically go in? He hated that place. He’d spent years there and as soon as he could, he made every effort to avoid it.

“Are you going into work tomorrow?” he asks.

“I always go to work. Unlike you. Working from home 24/7.”

“Let’s get lunch tomorrow.”

Hoseok claps excitedly. “Really?! Deal.”

The envelope starts to move from behind Yoongi and floats in front of his face, blocking the tv. Yoongi moves his head and it moves in unison. He sighs, frustrated. He tilts his head the other way again. The same thing happens. Hoseok watches on, amused.

Finally, Yoongi reaches for the envelope and snatches it from the bubble and rips open the seal.

He pulls out a piece of paper. Printed in the same victorian script as the seal, is your name.

To be continued.

#min yoongi #suga #BTS #BTS Fanfiction #BTS fiction #BTS fan fic #BTS fan fiction #yoongi x reader #hoseok #sope #to all the min yoongi fans who requested more of fake love and you're mine #THIS IS FOR YOU

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retrosedes-writing · 7 years

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Thanks for the Meal

For @ignoctweek Day 4: First Time

NSFW Rating: Mature Warnings: Noct is a few months away from being eighteen, mutual pining, awkward confessions, angst, oral sex, manipulation, mentions of spying Summary: Noctis somehow manages to convince Ignis to do him a favour.

Auth Note: This was actually one of my first Ignoct plot bunnies. I would’ve liked to come up with something else further along in their relationship for the original prompt, “first time Noctis asks for sex” but had limited time and thought this would do nicely in a pinch. Hope you like! You can check out more of my writing and ideas below.

Table of Blog Contents | Upcoming Works in Progress

Edit: Oops! I somehow scheduled this for a week later than I meant to post it and since it was my last submission for Ignoct Week, I didn’t even notice :’] Sorry about that!

Ever since Noctis had found out (through probably less than legal means) that his advisor also liked men, he'd been consumed by the burning desire to get closer to him.

Physically.

What had started as a little bi-curiosity in his early teens had erupted into full-blown hormones once he had moved into his own apartment. There, he felt he had enough space and privacy to explore a few of his less 'kingly' urges behind closed doors without any fears of the palace employees (or his father) unexpectedly walking in on him.

In the midst of this indulgent process of covert self-discovery, however, Noctis began to realize that the things that turned him on were all kind of familiar...

Button-up sleeves rolled halfway down to the elbows, handjobs in the back of limousines, food play scenarios and countertop sex... Lanky brunets with glasses and smug demeanors getting accosted in the locker rooms... For some reason, everything inexplicably reminded him of Ignis. After a while, he just gave in to the fact that he was deeply attracted to his right-hand man and let his fantasies run wild in the seclusion of his shower every day.

Though originally assumed by his friends to be a very late bloomer, in truth Noctis was itching to jump into bed with someone by now - but not just anybody.

No, he only wanted Ignis.

He couldn't help noticing the improvements to his advisor's physique, having watched his dear childhood friend transform over the years from a precocious glasses-wearing little boy into a 6ft, effortlessly handsome, well-put-together young man. How had that even happened? Puberty had been far less kind to Noctis.

Apart from during his rigorous Crownsguard training sessions, however (which were titillating to observe), Ignis had become even more buttoned-up in recent years, perhaps due to the stress and added expectations of coming of age. Noctis wanted to take him apart until there was nothing holding him back, all evidence of his professional persona cast aside for the sake of relieving a little tension. He longed to know what Ignis would look like as he came undone in private. An intoxicating heat simmered low in his body whenever he thought about his food being prepared by those same hands which the advisor might have used to touch himself in more intimate moods.

To Noctis, it just seemed SO obvious that they should fuck.

There was too much chemistry between them for his lust to be completely one-sided, too many lingering glances and breathless pauses during close-quarters sparring practice for him to tell himself to let it go, that it was all in his head. As much as he looked the part of responsible adult, Ignis was fresh out of adolescence himself, still a teenager if only for one more year. He must have been in need of a sexual outlet just as badly if the untouched vial of personal lubricant hidden away at the very back of his closet was any indication.

And losing his virginity to one of his closest friends, his trusted advisor - Noctis wouldn't have it any other way. There would be no threat of a scandal getting out if he chose to involve himself with Ignis, no potential for some ex-lover he picked up at public school to go rogue and spill all his secrets to the press.

He knew Ignis would be perfectly discreet, he just... couldn't bring himself to confess how he felt yet.

The last thing he wanted was to destroy their closeness, especially as, truth be told, Noctis could barely manage to take care of himself as it was. He couldn't really afford to be rejected if it meant Ignis might stop coming over to look after him and keep him up to date on his princely duties... even worse, if it meant they would stop being friends.

Still, being alone with him was utter torture now. Having Ignis in his own house, just the two of them.. the nearest guard stationed far enough away from the door that he wouldn't be able to hear them even if Noctis yelled. It was a recipe for maddeningly unresolved sexual tension which he had to do his best to conceal with feigned, stony-faced indifference.

~*~

Even so, tonight, the prince had been privately entertaining thoughts of seducing Ignis ever since they'd crossed the threshold. Dropping his bag and shoving him up against the front door for a kiss, cornering his back in the kitchen with one hand on either side of the counter, following him casually into the bathroom - ideas all ignored one after the other even as they kept him from focusing on his schoolwork.

Gorged on yet another delicious meal, Noctis sat back on the sofa with a satisfied sigh and drifted off after dinner, fragments of a sex dream lending a visual component to his imagination as they flashed across his mind's eye.

His visions involved a panting, faintly muscular naked body positioned flatly on top of him, and though he couldn't see the man's face in the darkness, he knew without a doubt it was Ignis. There was the vaguely wet sensation of a mouth on his neck, lips brushing beneath his ear, and then something unbelievably warm and stimulating was stroking him between the legs, arousing such a vivid, pleasurable sensation that he spread them wider and thrust his hips up a bit, hoping for more.

To his disappointment, he was woken up, still hard from his brief nap, by the relentless sound of running tapwater as Ignis began doing the dishes across the room.

The apartment had gotten darker, the last light from the disappearing sunset fading from the sky outside and lending a surreal feeling to the environment. With no television, music, or video games powered on to distract him, Ignis was naturally the focal point of his attention. The dim overhead kitchen lamp imbued his soft, ash brown hair with a soft glow, drawing Noctis's gaze.

Moodily, the prince watched his advisor through half-lidded eyes from his position on the couch as night fell over the crown city. He had not moved an inch since he had awoken except to look down at himself, fidgeting with his demanding erection through the pockets of his school pants so as not to draw Ignis's attention.

He felt so good tonight, and yet so unbelievably frustrated as well. He knew that his advisor, and the best possible cure for what ailed him, would be going home soon, and he'd be left with a handful of political reports and his usual, boring methods of obtaining release. He couldn't stand to be so close to everything he desired and yet so damn far from actually getting it.

Noctis gave a very vocal sigh, which was really something more of a groan, as he sank lower on the couch, parting his knees widely to make himself more comfortable.

The sound finally got Ignis to look up from his work in the kitchen, drying his hands on a dish towel. "Can I help you with something?" he asked, cocking one eyebrow over his glasses as he moved around the counter to fetch his briefcase from beside the coffee table.

Noct exhaled in response. "Phuuuhhh... probably..."

If Ignis noticed the hand both covering and gently massaging at the straining fabric in Noctis's lap, he didn't remark on it. Gathering his vest from the arm of the sofa, he inclined his head slightly. "Is there anything else you needed from me before I take my leave for the night?"

"Yeah, blow me."

Even as he muttered the words so quietly that Ignis couldn't have heard what he said, Noctis winced at his own impudence. Gods, he wished.

"Beg your pardon? Didn't quite catch that, sorry." Ignis watched him blankly while Noctis repositioned himself, then added, when no response was forthcoming, "Highness?"

"I told you to stop calling me stuff like that," Noctis said exasperatedly, not meeting his eyes. It still felt like he was dreaming as he reached out and patted the seat next to him. "C'mere.."

"Sorry. Noct," Ignis complied. Setting his things back down, he hesitantly lowered himself onto the sofa beside the prince and hitched up the tops of his trouser legs slightly. "Has something been bothering you..?" It was with great effort that he resisted the habit of adding an honorific title to the end of his sentence the way he'd been raised to do.

"No, it's not like-... well, yeah I guess you could say that."

If you only knew.

Ignis was searching his face with pale green eyes, concerned and curious. "What is it? Your highness- Noct." He turned toward his royal charge and placed a hand earnestly on his knee. "Please. I hope you know your confidences are safe with me. Anything you have to say will be kept a secret from all but me if you wish it. You have my word."

Noctis swallowed. "Even from my father?"

Ignis pursed his lips.

Technically against the law but, "If I must."

"Of course I know that, Specs," Noctis suddenly laughed, shoving playfully against his attendant's shoulder. Leave it to Ignis to make everything out to be so serious. "We're friends, after all. I don't need you to keep telling me that after all this time."

Ignis cleared his throat a little. "Glad to hear it," he replied. "Now, what's the matter? Bad dreams?" he added softly.

Noctis blushed, wondering if he had been moaning audibly while he dozed off in front of Ignis. "Uh, no, it's not that.. I'm just..."

He wasn't sure if he even wanted to take this any farther tonight, after that little heartfelt confession from Ignis, but then he caught a glimpse of the other man's exposed skin just below his unbuttoned shirt collar. His cock still ached, almost painfully swollen under his hand, and he was tempted to bury his face in his advisor's neck.

Noctis found himself leaning forward as if he was actually going to do it, then groaned and restrained himself just far enough away to be at a comfortable speaking distance.

"Yes?" Ignis prompted, tilting his head back slightly to continue meeting the prince's lascivious gaze with some puzzlement at the new angle.

Officially beyond caring if he ruined the moment, Noctis dipped his head in closer, murmuring against his ear.

"I've just been really... in the mood lately."

Ignis stared down at the prince's lap, wide-eyed with shock, as Noctis pulled out his cock and rubbed it twice firmly in the open air. Then, raising his fist to cover his mouth, his advisor suddenly erupted into a fit of embarrassed laughter, turning his head away to hide the way his cheeks were reddening.

"You got me," Ignis said easily, once he had recovered from his nervous chuckling. Habitually resting his arm on the back of the couch so as not to twist his neck too far, he glanced out the balcony window behind them to make absolutely sure no one could see in. "I thought we were about to discuss something serious."

"I am," Noctis argued, somewhat offended. "Deadly serious. Look." He waved his engorged member at Ignis to make his point.

"Yes, I saw that," said Ignis with a tone of tolerant amusement, even as he avoided looking directly at it. "Well then. I suppose I'll get out of your way."

As he made to stand and reached for the blinds to draw them shut for the prince's privacy, however, Noctis suddenly grabbed his arm and clutched desperately at the front of his shirt, holding him in place with one knee on the couch.

"No, wait. Stop. Don't go..."

Ignis stared down at him from this new vantage point, hovering over his royal charge whom he had inadvertently cornered against the back of the sofa, and a ripple of arousal darted through them both.

"I was actually kind of hoping... you would help me do something about it," Noctis admitted in a low mumble, gazing off just past Ignis's midriff as if he wasn't fully present. His cock stood at attention between them, still hard as ever, even as the tension in the room grew almost palpable.

It took his advisor a moment to react.

"Did I put too much sake in your salmon stir-fry?" Ignis whispered hoarsely, as if he were afraid to move a single muscle, even to speak.

"What?" Noctis was taken aback, then paused to consider the ramifications. "Maybe?" That might explain why he was so unable to resist his baser urges tonight, but then, "No," he protested, shaking his head. He knew what he was doing.

"That's right, I remember.. I decided not to use it after all," Ignis murmured thoughtfully. His eyes were focused intently on Noct's as if peering into his mind for answers. Finding none, his expression changed abruptly. "Then what is this about, Highness?" he asked more firmly, his brows threatening to lower into the hard line of a scowl.

Uh oh. His spontaneous seduction effort wasn't going well.

"I-I've been thinking about this for a while and," Noctis swallowed uncomfortably, "I really want to.. uh, y'know.."

Spend the rest of our lives doing it? Nah, he had to bring it up way more casually than that. Things that were normal for teenage boys to want to do - damn, what was the fancy word for try some stuff irl?

"Ex..periment..... with you," he finished weakly.

He cringed at himself as Ignis stood up to his full height and crossed his arms, a tower of disapproval. That probably hadn't been the best way to say it at all, actually. He wished his dick wasn't out in the open. Noctis covered it with one hand and blushed furiously.

"That would be completely inappropriate, and you're already crossing the line as it is," Ignis replied with unexpected vehemence in contrast to his earlier understanding tone. "However much you might like to pretend otherwise, at the end of the day you are still the prince and as such there is a proper code of conduct by which your employees must abide at all times."

Crossing back over to the kitchen, Ignis continued brusquely, almost in the same breath, "I assure you, having read the handbook myself several times, accepting solicitations for sexual favours, wasn't included on the list."

"Solicitating- wha?" His mouth gaped open slightly; Noctis wasn't used to hearing his friend speak so harshly. "But, wait.. Iggy, you just said a minute ago-"

"I was offering you my ear, not my body," Ignis said in retort, locating his forgotten vest and briefcase next to the coffee table. "Just what kind of attendant do you take me for?"

"Ignis, that's not what I-" Noctis struggled to keep up in his hunt for the right words. "I just thought-.. we were.. I want you to be more than that." He tried to relay the true depth of his feelings through the significance in his voice, but the nuance was lost in the argument.

"Yes, well, that wasn't in my job description," said Ignis curtly. Having donned his vest in a flurry of buttons and agitated fingers, he picked up his briefcase and turned to leave.

Contrary to the tears forming in his dark blue eyes, Noctis felt a sudden flare-up of anger. "What, are you really that put off by the thought of being with m- of messing around with me?" he demanded, his voice taking on a low, rough quality that somehow managed to be louder than his normal speaking voice. "Not even the damn prince good enough for you, is that it?"

Though he had barely moved, Ignis stopped where he was and stood still. His shoulders slowly seemed to deflate as he looked down at the floor.

"Of course not," he said quietly, after a long hesitation. "It's so much more complicated than that." Another moment passed in which he gazed into nothingness, before snapping back to reality with a brisk comment. "I won't burden you with the details. Suffice it to say that 'messing around' is well outside the bounds of our professional relationship."

He took a step toward the hall before pausing again.

"Perhaps it would be best if we took some time apart until whatever has gotten into you has sorted itself out," Ignis suggested, in the same crisp tone of voice he used when Noctis wouldn't eat his vegetables. "I'll ask if Cor can pick you up tomorrow."

"No!" Noctis lunged forward to grab hold of Ignis before he could leave but his advisor had already stepped beyond his reach. "Ignis, at least hear me out. Nobody has to know!"

The other man had already strode halfway across the room and gave no response. Noctis felt another surge of anger; he wouldn't have been surprised if his eyes had flashed bright red.

"Would you rather I picked someone up at school? Started fucking random classmates?" Noctis challenged him loudly. "Maybe get somebody pregnant? How's that for royal protocol?"

Ignis halted in his tracks and turned around slowly. "If this is a joke, you've officially taken it too far," he warned coldly, pushing his glasses up a centimeter. "Surely you know what disastrous consequences would be awaiting such-"

"Wouldn't have to worry about any of that if it was just you and me hooking up instead." Adopting a rather sultry tone of voice, Noctis lifted himself off the couch to stand in front of the coffee table and tucked his manhood away so that he could spread his arms wide mockingly. There was no doubt that Ignis had seen it this time, unable to draw his eyes away before Noctis noticed his lingering gaze. "You sure you don't want to give it a try? Just this once?"

"Positive," Ignis replied with a dry tongue, but he swallowed, his eyes glued to a spot on the floor and his composure faltering.

"No illegitimate heirs, no bad publicity-"

"If we were found together, there would be a scandal-" Ignis began, pursing his lips to argue. Instead, he decided to quit while he was ahead, and turned to flee the conversation on that note, heading for the front door.

"But I know you better than that, Iggy," the prince continued, interrupting. "I know you'd never let anyone find out. Your privacy is even more sacred than mine, remember? I told you, I've given this a lot of thought, and I don't trust anybody like I trust you."

Ignis came to another slow stop just before entering the hall where he would have disappeared from view, almost a silhouette in the dim lamplight. Taking in his defeated posture, Noctis's heart skipped a beat and jumped ahead rapidly.

"Ignis. Please," he added, willing his encouragement to do the trick. "Consider it. I want-" Noctis swallowed, nervous to try again, "I want... to be touched by you."

No response. Ignis didn't move except to lower his head, closing his eyes with a shallow sort of half-sigh. Then, all of a sudden, in one swift movement, he turned on his heel and made his way quickly back toward the sofa.

Dropping his briefcase to the floor with a careless thud, Ignis clapped a hand firmly onto Noctis's shoulder...

And began exerting enough downward pressure to make him sink gradually toward the couch cushions.

Was this...? Had he changed his mind?

"What- are you- for serious?" Noctis blurted out.

"When am I ever not?"

Meeting his gaze evenly with no change in his stolid expression, Ignis pushed against the prince's chest with his other hand to shove him gently back down onto the sofa. He followed suit by kneeling on the carpet in front of him, prying Noct's legs open wider for himself to fit between.

"Just this once," he cautioned, even as he was pulling Noctis free from his trousers, "and you're never to breathe a word of this to anyone under any circumstances."

"Yeah, fine," Noctis agreed breathlessly, lifting his shirt out of the way and squirming to get more comfortable. "Of course. Thanks.." He stilled himself for a moment to be able to feel Ignis's hands on his dick in utmost possible detail, even holding his breath for a couple seconds.

Now he really felt like he must still be dreaming.

Ignis hesitantly stroked him a few times, gazing down at his cock with such a keen, perceptive eye that Noctis almost felt uncomfortable, like he was inspecting it for weaknesses and would write him a report on it later. When the advisor looked up, his eyes were darker, pupils stretched wide enough that the pale green which surrounded them was reduced to a shrunken ring in comparison.

"Are you sure this is really what you want?” Ignis confirmed lowly. “You've gone a bit soft..."

Noctis shifted and glanced away, embarrassed. "Yeah, from being yelled at.."

"Forgive me," Ignis murmured. His cheeks tinged with pink, he unexpectedly pushed his face into Noctis's lap. The prince tried to repress a pleasurable shudder as the advisor nuzzled his dick; his hand jumped up to hover briefly over Ignis's hair before he pulled away, nose dragging along Noct's sensitive skin. His breath was warm. "I realize I'm being harsh. What you're going through is only natural.. I'm well aware of what it's like."

"What what's like?" Noctis asked with a hungered curiosity, even as he watched Ignis part and pull at his trousers to give himself full access.

Instead of answering what he felt was a blatantly obvious question, Ignis adjusted the positioning of his knees on the carpet to make himself more comfortable and lifted Noctis's flaccid member to the level of his mouth. Tentatively, he swallowed, licked his lips, and, closing his eyes, extended his warm, wet tongue to lap softly at the underside.

Noctis jerked his hips back with a rough exhale, startling the man between his legs. Ignis looked up at him seriously, searching his eyes.

"What is it?"

"Nothing, I'm just-.. wasn't expecting it." Reduced to hushed panting, Noctis asked the foremost question on his mind. "Are you really going to suck me off? Like... all the way?"

Ignis sat back on his heels and glared up at him, nudging his glasses back into place again. "Having second thoughts now, are we? This is what you had in mind for me to do with you earlier, was it not?"

"Yeah, yeah.. Sorry." Noctis urged him back in closer, corralling him with his ankles, and pushed his now semi-hard cock against his advisor's thinly pouting lips once more, leaving a dab of precum at the corner of his mouth. The message was clear: enough talking. "I just didn't think you would actually want to.. go that far."

In all honesty, he probably would have been satisfied (at least for now) if Ignis had merely held him in his hands for a couple of minutes, maybe played with him a bit until he was close, but he was afraid to confess as much in case Ignis decided to stop.

"Be careful what you wish for, Highness." Smirking wryly, Ignis knocked his hand away and took back control, seizing Noct by the loosened waistband of his trousers and yanking him closer to the edge of the sofa as he abruptly went down on him.

If not for the tremendous spike in his arousal from Ignis putting aside their roles and taking even that little bit of initiative, Noctis would have been embarrassed by the noise that came out of his mouth. As it was, it felt so good he could barely hear himself.

"Oh, fuck." Noctis sucked in breath quietly as his attendant's mouth enveloped him in warmth and slowly sank further down his shaft with each bob of his head, until he soon felt the tip of his cock brushing against the soft membranes at the back of his throat.

Too far down to scold him verbally, Ignis reached up and slapped Noctis lightly on the arm for letting out such an unprincely profanity. His only response was to wrap his hand in Ignis's hair more tightly and lean back against the sofa so that he had enough leverage to push up his hips, moaning. The advisor made a muffled noise in return, unable to stop himself from humming gently, and the process repeated itself, with Ignis methodically changing the pace and swirling his tongue around the head in between dives.

While he would never in his life admit to something so indecent, Ignis greatly savoured the salty taste of Noct's skin. The strong smell of his unwashed sex mingling with his own saliva excited him, along with his hitched breathing and any other small, lewd noise his tongue could elicit.

He would have liked to take his time bringing Noctis to orgasm but the inexperienced prince was too easily overcome by the slick, velvety sensations at the back of his mouth to last much longer. Glancing up at him every so often to make sure he was enjoying the service, Ignis caught him struggling to keep his eyes open to watch him work in beautiful, ecstatic disbelief.

“Ignis,” Noct whispered encouragingly. “Feels so good... I think ... I’m gonna cum.”

One final dip into the far back of Ignis's throat and Noctis gave a prolonged groan, wrapping his arms tightly around his attendant's shoulders and neck to pull him closer, heels digging into the back of his legs as he bent double, folding in half over top of him. To be so surrounded with Noctis on all sides was just a bit suffocating - his glasses getting pushed askew, Ignis choked and the spasm of throat muscles sent Noctis over the edge even as he attempted to withdraw for his advisor's comfort.

His cheeks burned faintly pink again as Noctis held his head firmly in place on the end of his cock, moaning while his fluids shot into his advisor's mouth. Ignis made no attempt to stifle the jerking of his hips, though his eyes were sharp at being used in such a manner as he waited out the entirety of Noct's release.

In the low lighting, the look of intense focus on the prince’s face was exquisite.

For once, though, he had not thought this far ahead. Unsure what to do with the ejaculate collecting on his tongue, Ignis held it in his mouth while he ran through his options in a panic. On the one hand, consuming the essence of a Lucian prince felt like it would be particularly sinful, a blessing not meant for him perhaps, but on the other, he certainly couldn't just open his mouth and let it drool back out of him onto Noctis's lap either - and running for the bathroom to dispose of his load immediately after accepting it would probably be insulting. No amount of etiquette lessons could have prepared him for this.

Ignis realized his lapse in attention while he pondered his internal dilemma had attracted an audience; Noctis was watching him lazily from his post-orgasmic haze, his dick shrinking back to its usual size. He reached out his hand with a fascinated kind of curiosity and pressed his thumb into Ignis's bottom lip in an unspoken bid for him to open his mouth, desiring to see its contents, but Ignis resisted, turning his head slightly to the side.

"You don't have to swallow," Noctis mumbled hoarsely, embarrassed.

With his permission, Ignis fumbled for one of the napkins on the coffee table left over from dinner and faced away from the prince to spit discreetly into its centre before folding it over twice neatly. He didn't dare sneak a peek at what he had coaxed forth from Noctis's loins.

"Excuse me," he muttered, as he got to his feet and headed toward the bathroom. His head was still spinning from a lack of oxygen.

“M’kay..”

Predictably, adrift in the afterglow and replaying the scene in his mind, Noctis's eyes had already blissfully drifted closed before he even reached the door.

Shutting it firmly behind himself, Ignis tossed the soiled napkin into the wastebin and started running the water in the sink. He cupped his hands under the flow and raised them to his lips once they were full, his aim to cleanse any evidence of the prince’s sperm from his mouth. While he was at it, he splashed his face in the hopes of regaining some clarity (and to distract himself from the slight tent in his own pants).

His hands were trembling as he braced them against the counter, gripping either side of the sink. He breathed deeply while he took a long moment to himself to assess the gravity of the situation. Though unable to see clearly through the stray droplets on his fogged glasses, Ignis looked up at his reflection in the mirror nonetheless.

You just blew the crown prince of Lucis.

What was he thinking?

He had wanted something like this for a very long time, but for it to happen the way it did- well, he supposed it didn't matter. He had kept his distance all this time despite his own desires for a reason. As of right now, it was impossible for them to be together. There was no sense in being upset that he hadn’t been able to woo the prince in a less crude, more romantic fashion.

Even to indulge in a physical relationship like the one Noctis apparently wanted for the sake of being physical was out of the question. Ignis was a very jealous person at heart. He had to remain impartial and reserved for his position as advisor to have any meaning, particularly when the time came for the prince to marry and produce another heir.

He mustn't let this continue.

His long-term resolve restored, Ignis forbade himself to touch the ache in his trousers lest it refused to go away on its own, cleaned his glasses, and strode out of the bathroom in a matter of minutes.

"That should not still be out on display," Ignis remarked pointedly as he collected his briefcase and walked right past Noctis toward the front hall.

"It's my apartment," the prince muttered in complaint, though he stirred to tuck himself back into his school pants.

"Please remember to change your clothes before you go to bed," Ignis chided out of habit, "and try not to fall asleep on the sofa, it's bad for your back."

"You're leaving?"

Ignis turned at the entrance to the hall, scrutinizing the disappointment on Noct's face from a distance with a keen eye.

"Yes. This won't happen again," he said shortly. "Don't forget, we have an appointment with your driving instructor tomorrow at 3 pm."

And with that, he left.

Noctis smirked, rubbing at the small patch of drool Ignis had unknowingly left on the fly of his trousers.

It had already happened once. It couldn't be that hard to make sure it happened again.

After all, Ignis had just marked all of his own weak spots.

#ignoct #ignoctweek #Noctis Lucis Caelum #Ignis Scientia #FFXV fanfic

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redscullyrevival · 7 years

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Fool’s Assassin: Fitz and the Fool Rundown

OH MY GOD @sonnetscrewdriver

Plot/Narrative/Setting:

Uhhhh, holy SHIT???

Now, I know I’ve consumed these Elderling books in a rapid fashion but this one I friggin’ devoured.

I loved it so much, so many aspects of this first book I completly adored and got very emotional over.

Plot aspects and writing aspects.

Bee’s first chapter from her perspective?!

Oh my god you guys I had to put the book down and wander about my house in a glow for a bit, but I’ll come back to that in a little while.

For now I just wanna say that I feel a little vindicated! Heh.

I said it felt like Blood of Dragons was leaning into another book and that feels true here, especially thematically - at least with how I viewed the end of Rain Wilds anyways.

The fresh baby Elderlings are going to have time to grow and look back on their past and their experiences and see them anew; time is it’s own change but in The Rain Wilds Chronicles the young keepers couldn’t see past their own immediate trials and tribulations, and had no need or desire to do so. They’re young.

Fitz and the Fool seems it will focus on change and we all know every Elderling series is about change, duhdoy - but this time around the variation on theme seems to be “reflection as change”.

And this is being done in really interesting ways I’m gobbling up!

Looking back and reflecting on the past can’t change the past but it can change the observer, it can shift our perspective and self understanding.

Experience and time changes how we feel about our personal stories, changes how we feel about ourselves and our actions and choices and is a willing practice most people indulge in as they age.

And then there are children.

Children are a near constant form of self reflection; parenting is a daily grind through one’s own childhood memories and habits and looking at yourself and experience through your parent’s eyes as well as your newly acquired parent lenses - it is very intense.

Raising children is achingly sweet, oddly nostalgic, uniquely frustrating, guilt draining, and terrifying. Trust me.

And I don’t imagine there are many experiences that forces someone to be as introspective and unwillingly mining and measuring their own life as much as raising children does. It’s a type of change where your sense of control is lacking to nonexistent.

Parenting is basically adolescence 2.0 okay?

Nobody knows what they’re doing the first time around and all the experience in the world won’t prepare you for the amazing differences each child possesses. Parenting is just an adaptive process of change on the go.

So far the Fitz and the Fool series seems to be focusing on these two particular types of change by merging parenting’s hyper focused self-evaluation with the natural backward glance of ageing into a snowball of dread (and I assume later acceptance).

It’s fantastic stuff!

Fitz

I feel as if my personal prayers have been answered.

I’m so over the moon that Fitz is a professional wayward child collector, it’s so beautiful I can’t stand it!

When reading Tawny Man I thought “You know what would be great? Fitz adopting more children” - a thought I had AFTER he married Molly and thus had like nine kids already.

HehehehhaaahahAHAHAHABAAAAHAHAH!

This is my favorite Fitz.

Still making poor choices driven by self isolation of course, you can’t teach an old wolf new tricks evidently, but still my favorite Fitz so far.

So much calmer.

Quick to listen and slow to speak.

Empathetic, less paranoid.

A sturdy man.

Retirement suited Fitz, and I’m so glad his edges softened and his eyes adjusted to the light.

I want him to keep his found peace and take it with him through this new gauntlet of horrible happenings, I believe in him.

It’s a little upsetting Fitz still doesn’t believe in himself, or rather he doesn’t believe in others.

Fitz is still afraid of what he can’t immediately control; doesn’t see his friendships clearly; and takes up more responsibility then he can handle without asking for help.

Frankly, after Molly’s death Fitz isn’t a very adaptive parent.

He tries! He does, and if time was on his side I think Fitz and Bee would have built something wonderful and symbiotic.

PS Molly was so real in this book. So warm and defined in my mind, I grew to really see her. Devastated!

Bee

Oh my sweet summer child!

We’ve broken into a new perspective! For the first time we see Fitz from the outside! I LOVE IT.

I also love Bee.

I really love Bee.

On the Fitz side of things I’m pleased with how he is now; on the Bee side of things I think there was a lot Fitz could have done and didn’t when it comes to his younger daughter.

Much of what Bee knows and understands of her Father (and other adults around her) is from her own observations and intelligence, not from him sharing information with her directly.

Most informative communication between father and daughter is instigated by Bee.

And that’s frustrating. I’m frustrated on Bee’s behalf.

I’m frightened for her now as well!

Oh Bee, stay save.

Be smart.

The Fool

*anguished war cry*

Shun

Shun obviously has problems and I’m doing my best to not hold anything against her.

If she can she needs to get her shit together and sooner would be better than later.

She’s going to need herself and Bee isn’t going to admit it but she’ll need her too.

God I hope Shun rises to the occasion of total survival - I’m on your team Shun! You can do it!

Lant

What the fuck lol?

Who is this clown?

Shun is a mess but Lant is a disaster. What’s his deal?

Thankful for small miracles that Shun went with Bee - cause these two were getting chummy and I’m pretty sure they’re brother and sister or something.

Bee’s observation during dinner one night about how Shun and Lant were like mirrors of each other is going to ring true I’d wager.

AND I BLAME CHADE.

I hope this kid turns around and becomes helpful, otherwise I’m cool if he stays home.

Highlighted Passages

Time is an unkind teacher, delivering lessons that we learn far too late for them to be useful.

A tiny motion caught my eye. It wasn’t much. Steady had opened his mouth and then shut it again. It was not much of a trail but I’d pursue it. I looked at him suddenly, pointed my finger, and demanded, “What did Chade tell you not to tell anyone?”

At intervals throughout my life, I had tried to record all I had seen and done. And often enough I’d had to hastily destroy those accounts when I feared they would fall into the wrong hands. I winced as I thought of it. I only regret the time I spent writing them when I had to burn them. I think of all the time I spent carefully writing, only to have it burn to ash in a matter of minutes. But you always began again. Writing it down. I almost laughed aloud. I did. And each time I’ve done so, I’ve found that the story changed as my perspective on life changed.

I had been young, I excused myself, and who does not put himself in the best possible light when he presents his tale to someone he loves? Or his excuses to someone he has wronged.

It was a very good life I had. When melancholy overtook me, I knew it was not for anything in my present, but only darkness from the past. And those bleak regrets were only memories, powerless to hurt me. I thought of that, and yawned suddenly. I could sleep now, I decided.

A part of me did not wish to leave her when her mind was so unsettled, and another part of me longed for a respite from indulging her delusion. I called Revel aside and asked that he pay special attention to her requests while I was gone. He looked almost offended that I thought such a command necessary. “As ever, sir,” he said, and added his stiff little bow that meant, You idiot.

I was almost annoyed at her for spoiling my perfectly good sulk. And that was when I realized that was what I had been doing. I’d been sulking because the Fool had sent letters to Jofron and not to me. And like a child, I’d been testing the people who loved me, pulling away from them almost for the sole reason of seeing if anyone would come after me.

I did not begrudge Molly her years of marriage to Burrich. He had been a good man for her. But this was like a slow knife turning in me, to watch them recollect an experience I would never have. I stared at them, the outsider again. And then, as if a curtain had lifted or a door opened, I realized that I excluded myself.

“Fitz! Must you always leap from one imagined disaster to another? Listen to what I’m actually saying, which is that I don’t know what path Nettle chose for herself. But if she is alone now, it is because she chose to be alone, not because someone decreed it for her. Her life is hers to live, not yours to repair.”

Ah, I do not know what comfort anyone could offer me, save to let me say these things aloud and not recoil in horror from my heartlessness.

There would never again be anyone like her. Never anyone who would love us so completely, with so little reason.

I reined my heart away from exploring those losses. It was one of my faults, one that Molly had sometimes rebuked me for indulging. If one bad thing befell me, I immediately linked it to every bad thing that had happened in the last week or might happen in the coming week. And when I became sad, I was prone to wallow in grief, piling up my woes and sprawling on them like a dragon on a hoard. I needed to focus on what I had, not what I had lost. I needed to remember there was a tomorrow, and I had just committed myself to someone else’s tomorrow as well.

There was a danger in asking too much of a child, but the danger of asking too little was almost equal.

Like him, I bore some scars from the things we had exploded together. Just as we had this girl’s life.

I think I decided that night that the discomfort of being close to him was preferable to standing away from the only person in the world who I knew loved me. I suspect that at some point he had made the same decision.

In many places Patience had written scathingly skeptical notes about the veracity of what she was reading. Often they made me giggle uncontrollably: It was a glimpse into her that no one else had shared with me. Her notes were fading, so I renewed them in black ink as I found them.

I felt a flash of anger toward Chade at the bubbling kettle he had sent to my home. Who would be scalded when she finally boiled over?

“It’s too short to braid. I cut it because my mother died.” I looked at her directly for one instant. Shun met my gaze coldly. Then she said, “I can only wish my mother were dead. I think it would make my life easier.” I stared at her knees. Her words cut me and I tried to understand why. After a moment it came to me. She considered her pain more significant than mine.

I suspected that in her thoughtless wretchedness she could employ cruelty such as I had never experienced from an adult.

The best an assassin can do is create a setting in which he does not have to witness the pain he causes.

We live in our bodies. An assault on that outside fortress of the mind leaves scars that may not show, but never heal.

I hugged my knees tightly to my chest, pulling them in hard, wishing I could break my own legs. Wishing I could destroy myself so I could escape these terrible feelings.

“I will always take your part, Bee. Right or wrong. That is why you must always take care to be right, lest you make your father a fool.”

I could be my father’s daughter. Impervious to what he had done. Sure of my own worthiness. I lifted my chin.

FitzVigilant had failed as an assassin, so Chade had assumed he would do better as a scribe and teacher. And I had gone along with such a crooked piece of logic. Why? Did either of us believe that teaching children might be easier than killing them?

“Torture strips one of all dignity. Pain can make you shriek, or beg, or soil yourself. There is no privacy when your enemies own you and have no compunction, no human compunction at all about what they will do to you. So, among my friends, yes. Privacy is still an obsession. And a gift from them. A restoration in small part of what dignity I once had.”

I bowed my head to that. After a moment, she added, “People love you far more than you deserve, Tom Badgerlock. But you don’t even believe that they love you at all.” I was still pondering that when she added, “And I am one of those people.” “Nettle, I’m so—” “Say it again and I’ll hit you. I don’t care who is watching. If I could ask one thing of you, it would be that you never say those stupid words again.”

#Realm of the elderlings #Fitz and the Fool #year of book #fandom talks

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olaluwe · 5 years

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Athlete [photo credit] unplash.com

I don't know of anybody who embarks on a journey without having a clear-cut description, road-map or if you like graph of the destination he or she intends to reach.

And if such a person does exist, he or she is definitely just taking a walk.

Having a clear-cut description will enable the traveller to navigate the route with ease.

Therefore based on what may suit the individual journeyman, it is either the road-map is in the traveller’s head memorized or on a piece of paper for ease of reference as the journey progresses.

Or alternatively, it is on the traveller's phone if he or she owns one.

This is to makes it more likely for the traveller to make a call to someone who may be of help in case he or she misses the way.

Or God forbid like we used to say in this part of the world where I come from, something terrible happens. Contacts on the phone might just come handy for the rescuers. That's by the way.

In the case all these are not available, the traveller must be prepared to ask for the direction where and when it is necessary as the journey hots up from those they meet on the way who are familiar with the route or have being to the destination he or she desires.

To do the contrary is akin to courting a disaster altogether. It is also tantamount to ending up wandering aimlessly in no man's land as if on a wild goose chase.

As unpalatable as it may sounds, however, it is the reality of some people's life and a fate that awaits anybody who is presently going through life without a purpose.

What then is a purpose, if I may ask?

Purpose is a goal or a plan of action which one has set his or her mind to achieve.

It can also be defined as a vision of what one wants to see comes to reality in one's life.

It may be to get married at a specific time in one's life. It may be to go to university. It may be to learn one vocational skill or the other. It may be to start a business or grow an existing one into a profitable national or global brand. The list goes on and on and on.

How is a life purpose set?

Life goal can be set provided there is sufficiently clear understanding about what it entails and what it requires to achieving it.

Life goal can also be set so far there is the courage of conviction, spiritual, intellectual, material, and psychological enablement- that the goal-setter can go all the way not minding the challenges that lay ahead.

One can set a life goal for himself or herself or it can be predestined.

I'm not saying setting life goals for oneself is wrong. In fact, it is allowed.

It is even possible for one to stumbles into his or her God's given purpose (s) as the case may be. It happens.

It is, however, far better to seek to know the plan or the purpose of God for your life.

The reason being that its fulfilment and glory far outweigh anything you can ever imagine.

It is clearly for this reason Apostle Paul said in the book of Romans 8: 30. [Moreover whom He predestined, these He also called; whom He called, these He also justified; and whom He justified, and these He also glorified. NKJV.]

This verse, though occurring as a form of spiritual exhortation to the church in general; its very essence can as well be transposed for use in myriads of the aspirational situation of an individual.

When to set a life goal?

If you are setting a life goal for yourself, it is best to do so when you are setting forth at dawn.

I mean you must start as early as possible. There's nothing age-specific about it. We have seen people who find their purpose so early in life. And they are often called geniuses. Parents and guardians are therefore implored to be observant of their children and wards.

Right from elementary school, conscious efforts and attention must be paid to signs on the way of our lives that indicate where life is leading us through not only responsive self-awareness and of the environments but a deliberate developmental engagement with our natural endowments and acquisitive skills.

But if you are not sure or still clueless, like I said earlier, then it is time to go and meet your maker so that he can help set the record straight and it shall be well with you.

Qualities of Purpose:

· Purpose is spiritual. Just like most things in life, purpose, too, takes its root from or in the spirit before their physical manifestations.

· Purpose is adjustable.

There are short, medium, long-term purposes or goal. As a footballer for instance, the longest you can stay active is roughly, very roughly around forty years.

After that, you have to adjust your goal to something else that demands less of kinetic intelligence.

Inability to do this has often led to many great athletes suffering greatly from then henceforth because of either problem of adaptation or mismanagement of their finances.

Going bankrupt is one of the many consequences.

So, we must be able to adjust our goal as we journey through life because we are most likely to end up not where and how we started.

· Purpose is time-bound. Life is transitional - childhood, adolescent, and adulthood- which require different rules of engagements.

There are things you can do as a babe that you cannot do as an adolescent. And there are things you can do as an adolescent which you cannot do as an adult and vice versa.

So, everything in life happens in space and time. Besides, life purpose can only be achieved when one is alive.

As such, only the living strives towards their life purpose. If it doesn't happen when you are young, it may happen when you are old.

I've been around long enough to confidently say nobody should be written off on the account where they are today.

Things can change. And I've seen many of such happened. So, you have no reason to lose faith in achieving your purpose in life even if you suffer repeated setbacks.

· Purpose leads to success.

When one is purposeful in life, success is a near assurance with hard/smart work, optimism, enthusiasm, faith, and perseverance.

· Purpose is definable.

Whatever in life can be imagined can be defined. It outlines can be verbally or manually painted. And the moment one can define his or her purpose in life, the battle is half won, the rest is left to the details of the methodology adopted towards achieving it.

· Purpose is conceptualizable.

Life is a campaign; and long and tortuous one at that. So, there is a need for proper conceptualization which gives room for feedback, evaluation and adjustment to strategies as and when necessary.

· Purpose is plan-able.

A purpose is plan-able when it becomes a revelation. And writing out the methods, steps or approaches to achieving it is of necessity because it is a journey. And it advisable not to take lightly this part of our goal-setting; it could make or mar you.

· Purpose is achievable.

Purpose is nothing if it is not achievable. A purpose well-conceived is achievable.

Right from the point of its conceptualization, no stone should be left unturned to ensure everything is put in their place. Otherwise, it is not a purpose. It is a wish.

· Purpose is miss-able (like a sitter-goal in a game of football)

Purpose can be missed if we give in to distraction.

It is like when you get to the marketplace, (which life is metaphorically, speaking) do you focus on what you are there to buy or you allow yourself get distracted by the noisome environment occasioned by the many buyers and sellers? No!

Let your eyes stay on the ball of your purpose in life at all the time.

· Purpose is recoverable.

If a footballer whose purpose on the field of play is to score a goal and he misses a sitter (s) as the case may be or if he misses what we often refer to as glaring chances but in a sudden change of fortune he is able to atone for his sins of not converting obvious goal-scoring chances by netting a brace at the dying minute of the game.

We can say he has recovered his purpose maybe not when the fans of the team expect him to but it doesn't matter. It would have been worse if he didn't and his team ended up on the losing side.

From the foregoing, we can then conclude that a purposeless life is, among others, one that's lacking in direction, focus to buttress what have been mentioned above.

A purposeless life can therefore not be worth living because it is miserable. It is time-wasting. It is unprofitable. It is frustrating not only to the one living it but to others who are stakeholders in our life project.

And so a purposeless life is, put summarily, and to reinforce what I said earlier, a disaster.

And this definitely is not the plan of God for your life and my life.

But how come then that people live a purposeless life?

On the surface of it, I want to assume nobody sets out to live a purposeless life, at least not consciously, which unfortunately they now live for one reason or the other.

People live a purposeless life sometimes out of sheer ignorance, disobedience, wishful thinking, dishonesty, and misguided exuberance, or as a result of a care-free lifestyle if you like.

To illustrate the points I'm driving at, let me give one practical personal example.

I think it is only fair and proper I start with myself instead of with others, more so because; charity they say begins at home.

In 1999, I was in Abuja as a member of a team of builders to execute a project for the Nigerian Army.

But somehow, the project didn't go according to plan.

And out of anger and frustration, I left and returned to Lagos which was our originating state and my place of residence.

Still, for saving grace, unknown to me, I travelled to Abeokuta to see my family where I met a God's servant at the earnest imploring of a blood brother.

The God's servant told me that I should go back to Abuja that God has something in stock for me there.

But under my breath, I was disputing his prophetic declaration and vowing never to go back. I didn't go to disobedience.

Later, it so happened that another project was substituted for the one that suffered a delay and my compatriots who tarry make really good money.

And I only get to know of it two years afterwards when out of frustration I was forced to go and rejoined them in Calabar where also the main project has been completed. There I was left with scraping the remnants.

So, you can see what an act of disobedience did cause me.

On a daily basis, purpose and opportunities have been missed by people who, among others, are disobedient, dishonest, wishful thinkers, ignorant, living in misguided exuberance or a care-free lifestyle.

What having a purpose does for your life?

It gives direction to life.

When you are living a life of purpose, there is a direction to your life. You are not just wandering aimlessly around. And like the saying goes - if you don't stand up for something, you fall for anything. May that not be your portion in Jesus Name? Amen.

It gives life a focus.

When there is a purpose to life, focus is automatic. You gaze don't shift impatiently from what is helpful to things that are don't add up to your life.

It puts sparks into life.

Purpose puts sparks into life. There are no dull moments in your life because a set of actionable plans or projects have been put in place. You have something to live for.

It makes life worth living.

A purposeful life makes life itself worth living. And the more your life's goal continues to take shape right before your eyes, the greater your zeal to wanting to see it all to the very end,

It helps to determine where you stand and how much ground you have covered in life.

When you are purposeful, you have something to evaluate every now and then as regards where it manifestation vis-a-viz its realisation stands and how much ground you have covered with an ongoing project (s) as the case may be.

Finally, in all education must be prioritized because it has a place in the greater fulfilment of our life goals and purposes.

#IFTTT #Blogger

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