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mirisss · 5 months

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Deja Vu

Txt Beomgyu x afab! reader

Based on the lyrics for Deja Vu

Warnings: Angst, car crash, more angst like super angsty, let me know if I should add anything else

Wordcount ≈ 8.4k

Please reblog!

Third Person POV

Beomgyu had always found solace in the melodies he crafted, pouring his heart and soul into every note he played. It was during one of his impromptu piano sessions in the school's music room that fate intervened, weaving the threads of their destinies together. (Y/n) wandered the halls aimlessly, the strains of music drawing her like a magnet. Intrigued, she followed the sound until she found herself standing at the threshold of the music room, where a boy her age sat at the piano, lost in his own world of music. Mesmerized by both the beauty of the melody and the boy who created it, (Y/n) couldn't tear her gaze away. And as Beomgyu turned to find her standing there, a smile lighting up her face, he felt something stir within him, something he couldn't quite explain. They exchanged shy introductions, their hearts beating in tandem with the rhythm of the music that surrounded them. In that moment, two souls collided, bound together by the invisible threads of fate and the shared love of music.

From that serendipitous moment in the music room, Beomgyu and (Y/n) were inseparable. Their love grew like a melody, sweet and harmonious, filling every corner of their hearts. They spent endless hours together, sharing their hopes, dreams, and fears as they navigated the complexities of adolescence hand in hand. It didn't take long for them to realize the depth of their feelings for each other, and with hearts brimming with courage, they confessed their love under the soft glow of moonlight, their voices trembling with emotion. From that day forward, they were no longer just two individuals; they were a united force, bound by an unbreakable bond forged in the fires of passion and devotion. Their love was a symphony, each moment a beautiful crescendo building towards a future filled with endless possibilities.

As the years passed, Beomgyu and (Y/n) remained steadfast in their love, their bond growing stronger with each passing day. They journeyed through the trials and triumphs of young adulthood together, facing the world hand in hand.

Beomgyu pursued his passion for music with unwavering determination, honing his skills as a songwriter and musician. His melodies became a reflection of their love, each chord a testament to the depth of his feelings for (Y/n). Through his music, he poured out his heart, weaving their story into every verse, every chorus.

(Y/n), too, found her place in the world, her dreams intertwining with Beomgyu's as they embarked on their journey together. She pursued her own passions with fervor, her unwavering support serving as a constant source of strength for Beomgyu as he chased his dreams.

Together, they navigated the highs and lows of life, finding solace in each other's embrace during moments of doubt and uncertainty. Their love was a beacon of hope, guiding them through the darkest of times and illuminating the path ahead with the promise of a brighter tomorrow.

And though challenges arose, threatening to test the foundation of their love, Beomgyu and (Y/n) stood unwavering, their hearts intertwined in an unbreakable bond forged in the fires of adversity. For they knew that as long as they had each other, they could weather any storm that came their way.

As they stood on the precipice of the future, their hearts filled with hope and anticipation, Beomgyu and (Y/n) knew that their love would endure, transcending time and space to weave their destinies together for eternity.

As the fifth anniversary of their love approached, Beomgyu felt a surge of excitement coursing through his veins. This wasn't just any anniversary—it was a milestone, a testament to the enduring strength of their love. And he was determined to make it unforgettable.

With meticulous care and unwavering determination, Beomgyu set out to plan the perfect proposal for (Y/n). He enlisted the help of his closest friends, who eagerly joined forces to bring his vision to life. Together, they plotted and schemed, each detail carefully orchestrated to ensure that this day would be nothing short of magical.

On the morning of their anniversary, Beomgyu woke with a nervous energy thrumming beneath his skin. He double-checked every detail of his plan, making sure that everything was in place for the evening ahead. With a fluttering heart and a sense of anticipation building within him, he set out to prepare for the momentous occasion.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the beach, Beomgyu and (Y/n) arrived hand in hand, the sea breeze tousling their hair. What (Y/n) didn't know was that this wasn't just a casual outing—it was the beginning of a new chapter in their love story.

With a smile playing at the corners of his lips, Beomgyu led (Y/n) to a secluded spot on the sand, where a blanket was spread out beneath the starlit sky. The sound of crashing waves provided the soundtrack to their evening as they settled in, the air buzzing with anticipation.

As they sat together, sharing stories and laughter, Beomgyu's heart beat a frantic rhythm in his chest. And then, as the moment of truth drew near, he took (Y/n)'s hand in his, his gaze locked with hers, the world falling away around them.

With a trembling voice and tears glistening in his eyes, Beomgyu poured out his heart, professing his love for (Y/n) in words that danced on the breeze. And then, with a shaking hand, he produced a small velvet box from his pocket, opening it to reveal the shimmering ring nestled within.

"Will you marry me?" he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath, his heart hanging in the balance.

And at that moment, as (Y/n)'s eyes widened with shock and joy, Beomgyu knew that this—this was the best day of his life so far.

As Beomgyu's heartfelt proposal hung in the air, (Y/n)'s eyes filled with tears of joy, her heart overflowing with love. With a radiant smile, she nodded eagerly, her voice choked with emotion as she whispered, "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!"

And in that moment, as the setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange, pink, and purple, Beomgyu and (Y/n) shared a tender, passionate kiss, sealing their love and commitment to each other under the watchful gaze of the heavens above. Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in each other's embrace, the world around them fading into insignificance.

Wrapped in the warmth of their love, they knew that their journey together was only just beginning. With the promise of forever shining brightly in their hearts, Beomgyu and (Y/n) embarked on the next chapter of their love story, hand in hand, hearts entwined, and souls united as one.

As they watched the sun dip below the horizon, casting a blanket of stars across the night sky, they knew that their love would endure for eternity, a beacon of hope and light guiding them through the darkest of nights and the brightest of days.

Together, they stood against the backdrop of the universe, their love a masterpiece painted across the canvas of time, a testament to the power of love and the beauty of two souls finding their way back to each other, time and time again.

As Beomgyu and (Y/n) made their way home, their hearts still soaring from the magic of their engagement, fate had other plans in store. In the blink of an eye, their joyous journey was interrupted by the screech of tires and the sickening crunch of metal.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis as their car was violently jolted, spinning out of control in a cacophony of chaos and confusion. Time slowed to a crawl as Beomgyu's desperate cries filled the air, his hands tightening around the steering wheel in a futile attempt to regain control.

And then, with a deafening crash, everything went dark.

When Beomgyu finally regained consciousness, his head swimming and his body aching, he found himself surrounded by the wreckage of their car. Panic surged through him as he frantically searched for (Y/n), his heart seizing in his chest at the sight of her motionless form beside him.

With trembling hands, he reached out to gently shake her, his voice trembling with fear as he called out her name. And then, as if in a dream, (Y/n) stirred, her eyelids fluttering open to reveal dazed and confused eyes.

Relief flooded through Beomgyu like a tidal wave as he pulled her into his arms, holding her close as if afraid she might vanish into thin air. But even as he held her, a sense of dread gnawed at the edges of his consciousness, the realization sinking in that their lives would never be the same again.

As the sirens wailed in the distance and the lights of emergency vehicles illuminated the night sky, Beomgyu and (Y/n) clung to each other amidst the wreckage, their love serving as a beacon of hope in the darkness that surrounded them.

But for now, in this moment of uncertainty and fear, all that mattered was that they were together, united against the chaos of the world, their love a light in the darkness guiding them towards an uncertain future.

Beomgyu's heart pounded in his chest as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings. The sterile scent of antiseptic hung heavy in the air, and the steady beep of machines served as a constant reminder of the fragility of life. Desperate to find (Y/n), he called out her name, his voice hoarse with emotion.

The nurses rushed to his side, their faces etched with concern as they gently explained the situation. (Y/n) was still in the operating room, they told him, her condition critical but stable. Beomgyu's breath caught in his throat at the news, his mind reeling with fear and uncertainty.

With trembling hands, he allowed the nurses to perform their examinations, their touch gentle but clinical as they assessed his injuries. But all the while, his thoughts remained fixated on (Y/n), his heart aching with the need to see her, to hold her close and reassure himself that she was alive and well.

As the minutes stretched into hours, Beomgyu found himself consumed by a sense of helplessness, his world narrowing to a single, all-consuming desire: to be by (Y/n)'s side. As he lay in his hospital bed, his body battered and broken, he made a silent vow to himself: no matter what it took, he would find a way to bring her back to him.

For she was his everything, his reason for living, and he would move heaven and earth to ensure that she emerged from this trial stronger than ever before.

And so, with determination burning bright in his eyes, Beomgyu closed his eyes and whispered a silent prayer to the universe, a plea for (Y/n)'s swift recovery and a future filled with love and happiness.

Relief flooded through Beomgyu like a tidal wave as the nurse delivered the news. With a heart full of hope and trepidation, he followed her down the sterile hospital corridors, each step bringing him closer to (Y/n)'s bedside.

As he entered the room, his breath caught in his throat at the sight of her lying there, pale and still, surrounded by a tangle of wires and tubes. His heart ached at the sight of her, so fragile and vulnerable, yet still so undeniably beautiful.

With trembling hands, Beomgyu approached the bed, his eyes never leaving (Y/n)'s face as he pulled up a chair beside her. Gently, he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from her forehead, his touch feather-light against her skin.

"Hey there, love," he whispered, his voice barely more than a whisper as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her cheek. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

And then, with a heavy heart and a soul weighed down by worry, Beomgyu settled into the chair beside (Y/n)'s bed, his gaze never wavering from her face as he waited for her to awaken.

Hours passed in a blur of anxious anticipation, each moment stretching into eternity as Beomgyu sat vigil by (Y/n)'s side. And then, just as he felt himself beginning to lose hope, a soft sigh escaped (Y/n)'s lips, her eyelids fluttering open to reveal dazed and confused eyes.

"(Y/n)?" Beomgyu breathed, his heart pounding in his chest as he leaned in closer, his eyes searching hers for any sign of recognition.

And then, in that moment, as their gazes locked and their souls connected, Beomgyu knew that everything would be okay. For they had weathered the storm together, and nothing in this world could ever tear them apart.

“Who are you?”

Beomgyu's world shattered in an instant as (Y/n)'s words pierced his heart like a dagger. The weight of her question hung heavy in the air, each syllable a crushing blow to his spirit. She didn't remember him. She didn't remember their love.

A suffocating wave of despair washed over him, stealing the air from his lungs and leaving him gasping for breath. He felt as though he were drowning, his mind consumed by a swirling vortex of confusion and anguish.

His body trembled uncontrollably as panic tightened its grip around his chest, squeezing the life from his veins. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but succumb to the overwhelming tide of emotion crashing over him.

The nurses rushed to his side, their voices a distant echo in the chaos of his mind as they guided him out of the room. His legs felt like lead, his steps unsteady as he stumbled blindly down the corridor, his vision blurred by tears he couldn't hold back.

And then, as the world spun around him and the darkness threatened to consume him whole, Beomgyu collapsed against the cold, unforgiving floor, his body wracked with sobs of despair.

For in that moment, as he lay broken and defeated, Beomgyu knew that he had lost more than just the love of his life. He had lost a part of himself, a part that could never be reclaimed.

And as the tears continued to fall and the echoes of his anguish reverberated through the empty halls, Beomgyu realized that he was truly alone.

As the days dragged on in the wake of the accident, Beomgyu found himself adrift in a sea of emptiness, his heart weighed down by the burden of (Y/n)'s forgotten love. Every moment without her felt like an eternity, each passing second a painful reminder of the gaping void that now occupied his soul.

Despite his own pain, Beomgyu knew that (Y/n) needed her family now more than ever. And so, with a heavy heart and a sense of resignation gnawing at his insides, he made the agonizing decision to reach out to them, to explain the situation and seek their help in guiding her through this tumultuous time.

The phone call was a blur of stilted conversation and forced pleasantries, the distance between them palpable even through the static of the line. (Y/n)'s parents offered words of comfort and reassurance, their voices laced with sympathy and concern. But try as they might, they could offer little solace to the shattered remains of Beomgyu's heart.

As the call came to an end and the line fell silent once more, Beomgyu felt a sense of desolation wash over him like a tidal wave. He was alone, utterly and completely alone, with nothing but his own thoughts and the echo of (Y/n)'s voice haunting his every waking moment.

Days turned into nights, and still, Beomgyu found himself trapped in the suffocating embrace of his grief. His once vibrant spirit had been extinguished, replaced by a hollow shell of the man he used to be.

And as he lay alone in the darkness, his tears a silent testament to the pain that consumed him, Beomgyu knew that he would never be whole again. For the love he had lost was a wound that would never fully heal, a scar etched into the fabric of his being for all eternity.

Yeonjun's heart weighed heavy with concern as he made his way to the hospital, his mind racing with thoughts of (Y/n) and the devastating impact the accident had wrought upon her life. He knew that he couldn't stand idly by while his friend suffered, that he had to do everything in his power to help her, to bring back the memories that had been stolen from her.

As he arrived at the hospital, Yeonjun's steps faltered for a moment, the gravity of the situation hitting him like a ton of bricks. But he quickly gathered his resolve, steeling himself for the task that lay ahead.

With a determined expression set upon his face, Yeonjun made his way to (Y/n)'s room, where her parents sat by her bedside, their faces etched with worry and exhaustion.

"Mr. and Mrs. [Last Name]," Yeonjun greeted them with a respectful nod, his voice soft but filled with conviction. "I know this must be a difficult time for all of us, but I want you to know that I'm here to help in any way I can."

(Y/n)'s parents looked up at Yeonjun with a mixture of surprise and gratitude, their eyes reflecting the pain and uncertainty that plagued their hearts.

"We appreciate your kindness, Yeonjun," (Y/n)'s mother said, her voice trembling slightly with emotion. "But we're at a loss as to how to help (Y/n). She doesn't remember anything, not even us."

Yeonjun's heart ached at the despair in her voice, his mind racing as he searched for a solution. And then, an idea sparked to life within him, a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to consume them all.

"I have an idea," Yeonjun said, his voice filled with determination. "It may be a long shot, but I think there's something we can try."

And with that, Yeonjun outlined his plan to (Y/n)'s parents, his words infused with a sense of hope and optimism that had been sorely lacking in the days since the accident.

For he knew that even in the darkest of times, there was always a sliver of light waiting to be found. And if there was even the slightest chance that they could bring back (Y/n)'s memories, then it was a chance worth taking.

Yeonjun's heart raced with newfound determination as he clung to the glimmer of hope that had ignited within him. Beomgyu's music—it was the key, the thread that could unravel the tangled web of (Y/n)'s lost memories. He had to believe it, had to cling to the possibility that the melodies Beomgyu had poured his heart and soul into could serve as a lifeline to the woman he loved.

With a sense of urgency propelling him forward, Yeonjun dashed back to Beomgyu's apartment, his mind ablaze with thoughts of the plan that had taken root in his mind. He burst through the door, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he searched for his friend amidst the shadows that loomed like specters in the dimly lit room.

"Beomgyu!" Yeonjun called out, his voice echoing in the silence that enveloped the apartment. "We need to go to the hospital, now!"

Beomgyu looked up from where he sat slumped on the couch, his eyes hollow and haunted, his spirit broken by the weight of his own grief. But there was a spark of something in Yeonjun's voice, a flicker of hope that refused to be extinguished.

"What's going on?" Beomgyu asked, his voice barely more than a whisper as he struggled to comprehend the urgency in his friend's words.

Yeonjun wasted no time in explaining his plan, his words tumbling out in a rush as he outlined his belief that Beomgyu's music held the power to awaken (Y/n)'s dormant memories. He pleaded with Beomgyu to come with him to the hospital, to play his songs for (Y/n) in the hopes that they would serve as a catalyst for her recovery.

For a moment, Beomgyu hesitated, the weight of his own doubts and fears threatening to crush him beneath their oppressive weight. But then, with a steely resolve burning in his eyes, he rose to his feet, his heart beating in time with the rhythm of his own determination.

"Let's go," Beomgyu said, his voice firm and unwavering as he followed Yeonjun out the door and into the unknown.

And as they made their way to the hospital, their footsteps echoing in the empty streets like a drumbeat of defiance, Beomgyu clung to the hope that had been ignited within him, praying to whatever higher power might be listening that his music would be enough to bring (Y/n) back to him.

As Beomgyu set up his small keyboard in (Y/n)'s hospital room, his heart pounded in his chest with a mixture of anticipation and fear. The weight of the moment hung heavy in the air, the room filled with a palpable tension as the doctors and nurses looked on, their expressions a mix of skepticism and cautious optimism.

Beomgyu's hands trembled as he reached out to touch the keys, his fingers dancing across the familiar patterns with a sense of urgency born of desperation. His eyes were stained with tears, his heart heavy with the knowledge that (Y/n) still didn't remember his name, still didn't remember the love they had shared.

But he refused to give up hope. Not now, not when they had come so far, when they stood on the precipice of a miracle that could change everything.

With a deep breath and a silent prayer on his lips, Beomgyu began to play. The melody flowed from his fingertips like water from a spring, each note a brushstroke painting a portrait of their love, a testament to the bond that had once held them together.

And as the music filled the room, weaving its way into the very fabric of (Y/n)'s soul, Beomgyu felt something shift within him, a glimmer of recognition sparking to life in her eyes.

For a fleeting moment, it was as if time stood still as if the world held its breath in anticipation of what was to come. And then, with a soft sigh, (Y/n) spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"I remember this melody," she said, her words a balm to Beomgyu's wounded heart. "It's beautiful."

Tears welled in Beomgyu's eyes as he looked into (Y/n)'s gaze, seeing a flicker of something familiar, something he had feared lost forever. And in that moment, he knew that no matter what the future held, they would face it together, united by the power of love and the music that had brought them back to each other once more.

Week after week, Beomgyu returned to (Y/n)'s hospital room, his heart heavy with both hope and apprehension. With each visit, he watched as fragments of her memory began to resurface, like puzzle pieces slowly falling into place to reveal the picture of her past.

But alongside the moments of clarity and recognition, there were still shadows lurking in the corners of (Y/n)'s mind. Her short-term memory remained elusive, slipping through her fingers like grains of sand, leaving her grasping at memories that seemed just beyond her reach.

And yet, Beomgyu refused to lose faith. He continued to play his music for (Y/n), pouring his heart and soul into every note in the hopes that it would serve as a lifeline to the woman he loved.

With each melody that filled the room, Beomgyu watched as (Y/n)'s eyes lit up with a spark of recognition, her fingers tapping along to the rhythm as if trying to unlock the secrets hidden within the music.

And though she still struggled to remember his name, Beomgyu could see the progress she was making, the way her memories began to stitch themselves back together like a tapestry woven from the threads of her past.

But for Beomgyu, the most important thing was that (Y/n) was still fighting, still clinging to the hope that one day she would reclaim the memories that had been stolen from her.

And as he stood by her side, holding her hand and whispering words of encouragement into the silence of the hospital room, Beomgyu knew that no matter how long the road ahead might be, he would walk it with her, every step of the way.

For theirs was a love that transcended time and space, a bond forged in the fires of adversity and strengthened by the trials they had faced together. And no matter what the future held, Beomgyu would never give up hope that one day, (Y/n) would say his name once again.

Each week, as Beomgyu stepped into (Y/n)'s hospital room, his heart heavy with the weight of unspoken longing, he couldn't shake the feeling of deja vu that washed over him like a tidal wave. It was as if time stood still in that room, trapped in an endless cycle of repetition and heartache.

As he approached (Y/n)'s bedside, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the room, he couldn't help but feel a sense of dread creeping over him. The familiar routine of introducing himself, of reaching out to a stranger who bore the face of the woman he loved, felt like a cruel twist of fate, a constant reminder of the gulf that lay between them.

And yet, despite the pain that threatened to consume him, Beomgyu refused to give up hope. Each week, he poured his heart and soul into his music, playing for (Y/n) with a fervor born of desperation, hoping against hope that this would be the moment when she would finally remember.

But week after week, his efforts were met with silence, (Y/n)'s eyes devoid of recognition as she gazed upon him with a mix of confusion and curiosity. It was like trying to break through a wall of glass, his words and music bouncing off the surface without ever making a dent.

And as the weeks turned into months, Beomgyu found himself trapped in a never-ending cycle of deja vu, each visit to (Y/n)'s bedside a painful reminder of the love that once was and the love that could be again if only she would remember.

But still, he refused to give up. For in the depths of his heart, he knew that their love was worth fighting for, worth enduring the pain and the uncertainty for the chance to hold her in his arms once more.

And so, with a heavy heart and a soul weighed down by the burden of unspoken longing, Beomgyu continued to visit (Y/n) each week, his love for her burning bright even in the darkest of times.

As the seasons changed and a year slipped by, (Y/n) was finally deemed well enough to return home, her recovery a slow and arduous journey fraught with uncertainty and setbacks. And yet, despite the progress she had made, there was one name that continued to elude her, one memory that remained stubbornly out of reach.

Beomgyu.

Try as she might, (Y/n) couldn't seem to recall the face or the voice of the piano boy who had once held her heart in the palm of his hand. His name felt like a puzzle piece that refused to fit into the intricate tapestry of her memories, a glaring absence in an otherwise complete picture.

And for Beomgyu, each passing day without (Y/n) by his side felt like a slow descent into madness, his heart aching with the pain of her absence. He had held onto hope for so long, clinging to the belief that one day she would remember him, that their love would triumph over the barriers of her fractured mind.

But as the months stretched into years and (Y/n)'s memory remained stubbornly elusive, Beomgyu found himself grappling with a sense of despair unlike anything he had ever known. It was like losing her all over again, the agony of her absence tearing at the very fabric of his soul.

And yet, despite the pain and the heartache, Beomgyu refused to give up hope. For deep down, he knew that their love was stronger than the vagaries of memory, that even if (Y/n) couldn't remember him now, there was still a chance that she would one day find her way back to him.

And so, with a heavy heart and a soul weighed down by the burden of unspoken longing, Beomgyu continued to hold onto hope, his love for (Y/n) burning bright even in the darkest of times.

For he knew that no matter how long the road ahead might be, their love would endure, a beacon of light guiding them through the darkest of nights and the brightest of days.

As the weeks turned into months and (Y/n) settled back into the familiarity of her parents' home, Beomgyu's visits became less frequent, until eventually, they ceased altogether. The pain of seeing her, of being so close yet so far from the love they once shared, had become too much to bear.

For Beomgyu, each visit had been like reopening a wound that refused to heal, the memories of their life together a constant reminder of everything they had lost. The sound of his music echoing through the empty corridors of (Y/n)'s mind served only to deepen the chasm between them, each note a dagger that pierced his heart with every melody.

And so, with a heavy heart and a soul weighed down by the burden of unspoken longing, Beomgyu retreated into the silence of his own grief, his memories of their life together a bittersweet symphony that played on a loop in the recesses of his mind.

Each resemblance to what once was, each flicker of recognition in (Y/n)'s eyes that never came, slowly chipped away at his soul, until all that was left was a hollow shell of the man he used to be. The pain of their lost love weighed heavy on his heart, dragging him down into the depths of despair with each passing day.

And as he stood alone in the silence of his empty apartment, the echoes of their laughter haunting the corners of his mind, Beomgyu knew that he had lost more than just (Y/n). He had lost a part of himself, a part that could never be reclaimed.

But even in the darkness, a small ember of hope still flickered within him, a reminder that love, no matter how lost or broken, could never truly be extinguished. And as he closed his eyes and let the tears fall, Beomgyu made a silent vow to himself: to carry the memories of their love with him always, even as he walked the lonely road ahead.

As the sweet piano notes that had become a familiar presence in (Y/n)'s home fell silent, the emptiness that filled the air seemed to weigh heavily on her heart. Though she couldn't recall the face or name of the person who had played those melodies, their absence left a void that echoed throughout the once lively house.

(Y/n) found herself drawn to the room where the piano stood, its keys untouched and gathering dust. With each passing day, the longing to remember grew stronger within her, a nagging ache that refused to be ignored. She yearned to unravel the mysteries of her past, to reclaim the memories that had slipped through her fingers like grains of sand.

Yeonjun, ever the devoted friend, tried his best to help (Y/n) piece together the fragments of her shattered memory, but despite his efforts, the memories remained stubbornly out of reach. The name "Beomgyu" felt like a distant echo in the recesses of her mind, just beyond her grasp.

And yet, (Y/n) refused to give up hope. She poured over old photographs and listened to recordings of the piano melodies that had once filled her home, hoping against hope that something would spark a flicker of recognition, a glimmer of memory.

She wanted to remember. She wanted it so badly.

Each day, (Y/n) felt as though she were standing on the edge of a precipice, teetering on the brink of something profound and life-altering. And though the journey ahead was fraught with uncertainty and fear, she knew that she couldn't turn back.

For buried deep within her heart, beneath the layers of forgotten memories and lost dreams, (Y/n) held onto a glimmer of hope—a belief that love, true and enduring, would always find a way to overcome even the greatest of obstacles.

And as she closed her eyes and let the haunting strains of Beomgyu's music wash over her, (Y/n) made a silent vow to herself: to never stop searching, to never stop hoping, until she had unlocked the secrets of her past and found her way back to the love she had lost.

As the night sky stretched out above them, a tapestry of stars glittering in the darkness, Yeonjun took (Y/n)'s hand in his, a gentle smile playing on his lips.

"Let's go for a walk," he suggested softly, his voice carrying on the gentle breeze that stirred the night air. "I want to show you something."

(Y/n) hesitated for a moment, uncertainty flickering in her eyes, but something in Yeonjun's earnest gaze convinced her to take a chance. And so, hand in hand, they ventured out into the cool night air, their footsteps echoing in the quiet stillness of the night.

As they walked, Yeonjun couldn't shake the feeling of anticipation that coursed through him, the hope that tonight might be the night when everything changed. He glanced ahead and saw Beomgyu standing under the canopy of stars, his silhouette a familiar yet distant figure against the night sky.

With a silent prayer in his heart, Yeonjun urged (Y/n) forward, his heart pounding in his chest as he willed fate to intervene. Perhaps if she ran into Beomgyu here, surrounded by the beauty of the night, she would remember. Perhaps the stars themselves would guide her back to him.

But as they drew closer, (Y/n) remained oblivious to the figure standing just ahead of them, her gaze fixed on the shimmering expanse of the night sky above. And though Yeonjun's heart sank with disappointment, he couldn't bring himself to give up hope.

As Beomgyu caught sight of Yeonjun and (Y/n) walking hand in hand beneath the canopy of stars, a rush of emotions flooded through him like a tidal wave. His heart ached with longing, his soul reaching out to her with a yearning that knew no bounds.

In that moment, he couldn't tear his gaze away from her, from the woman he had loved with every fiber of his being, the woman who still held a piece of his heart even as she stood just out of reach.

Memories of their time together flooded his mind, like fragments of a dream that he couldn't quite grasp. He remembered the day of the accident, the day they had gotten engaged, the promise he had made to her as they watched the setting sun paint the sky in hues of orange and pink.

"I'll always be here for you," he had whispered, his voice filled with conviction as he slipped the engagement ring onto her finger, a symbol of their love and commitment to each other.

And now, as he stood beneath the starlit sky, the weight of the ring pressing against his pocket, Beomgyu couldn't help but wonder if perhaps tonight was the night when everything would change. Perhaps tonight, under the watchful gaze of the stars above, (Y/n) would remember him, would remember the love they had shared.

With trembling hands, Beomgyu took a hesitant step forward, his heart pounding in his chest as he dared to hope for a miracle. He wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms like he used to, to whisper words of love and devotion into her ear until she remembered.

But even as he longed to reach out to her, to bridge the distance that separated them, Beomgyu knew that he couldn't force her to remember. Memories, like stars in the night sky, were fleeting and elusive, and all he could do was wait and hope for the day when (Y/n) would find her way back to him.

And so, with a heavy heart and a soul weighed down by the burden of unspoken longing, Beomgyu watched from a distance as Yeonjun and (Y/n) disappeared into the night, their silhouettes fading into the darkness like shadows on the wind.

But even as they disappeared from view, Beomgyu held onto hope, a flickering ember of light burning bright within him as he vowed to never give up on the love that had once defined his very existence.

For in the end, he knew that love was stronger than memory, stronger than time itself, and no matter how long the road ahead might be, he would always be waiting for (Y/n) with open arms and an open heart.

With a heavy heart and a soul weighed down by the weight of unspoken sorrow, Beomgyu made his way to (Y/n)'s home, his steps slow and deliberate as he prepared to face the painful truth that had been haunting him for far too long.

Two years had passed since the accident, two years of hoping and praying for a miracle that never came. Fate, it seemed, had made its decision, and no amount of wishing or yearning could change the hand they had been dealt.

With a heavy heart and a soul weighed down by the weight of unspoken sorrow, Beomgyu made his way to (Y/n)'s home, his footsteps slow and measured as he walked the familiar path one last time. The weight of the engagement ring in his pocket felt like a burden too heavy to bear, a constant reminder of the love they had shared and the dreams they had once dared to dream.

As he stood before (Y/n)'s doorstep, his heart pounding in his chest, Beomgyu knew that this was the moment he had been dreading, the moment when he would have to say goodbye to the woman he had loved with every fiber of his being.

With trembling hands, he reached into his pocket and retrieved the ring, its glimmering surface catching the soft light of the moon as he held it in his palm. It felt like a piece of his heart, a symbol of the love that had once bound them together, and now, it was time to set it free.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Beomgyu knocked softly on the door, his heart in his throat as he waited for (Y/n) to answer. And when she did, the sight of her took his breath away, her beauty undimmed by the passage of time.

"(Y/n)," he began, his voice barely above a whisper as he held out the ring to her. "I want you to have this. It's... it's the ring I proposed to you with. I want you to have it, to remember..."

But before he could finish his sentence, (Y/n) reached out and took the ring from his hand, her eyes brimming with unshed tears as she gazed up at him with a mixture of sadness and understanding.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the sound of their beating hearts. "Thank you for everything."

And then, without another word, Beomgyu felt the tears begin to fall as he pulled (Y/n) into his arms, holding her close one last time. It was a bittersweet embrace, filled with the echoes of a love that could never be, a love that had been lost to the sands of time.

But even as he held her, Beomgyu knew that it was time to let go, to release her from the chains of their shared past and set her free to find her own path in life. And as they pulled away from each other, their eyes locked in a silent exchange of understanding, Beomgyu knew that he would always carry a piece of (Y/n) with him, a piece of her heart that would forever be intertwined with his own.

With a heavy heart and a soul weighed down by the burden of unspoken longing, Beomgyu turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the night as he left behind the love he had once held so dear.

For sometimes, he realized, fate had other plans. And even though their story had come to an end, Beomgyu knew that the memories of their love would live on forever in his heart.

As (Y/n) sat on her bed, the weight of the ring in her hand felt like a tangible reminder of a past she couldn't quite grasp. She remembered the man who had given it to her, remembered his gentle smile and the sadness in his eyes, but his name remained just out of reach, a phantom echo in the recesses of her mind.

And yet, as she stared at the ring, tracing the intricate design with her fingertips, a flood of memories washed over her like a tidal wave. She saw flashes of a beach, the soft sand beneath her feet, the gentle crash of waves against the shore. She saw the sky ablaze with hues of pink and orange as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the world in shades of fire and gold.

And then, she heard it—a warm and familiar voice whispering words of love and devotion into her ear, the sound sending shivers down her spine. "I love you," the voice said, its timbre like music to her ears, filling her with a sense of warmth and longing that she couldn't quite explain.

In that moment, (Y/n) felt a spark of recognition flicker to life within her, a sense of connection that transcended the boundaries of memory and time. Though she couldn't remember his name, she knew deep down that the man who had given her this ring had been someone special, someone who had touched her heart in ways she couldn't fully comprehend.

With a sense of determination settling over her like a cloak, (Y/n) made a silent vow to herself: to keep searching, to keep reaching for the memories that lay just beyond her grasp. For she knew that somewhere, deep within the recesses of her mind, the answers she sought were waiting to be found.

And as she slipped the ring onto her finger, feeling its weight against her skin like a promise of things to come, (Y/n) closed her eyes and whispered a silent prayer into the night, a prayer for guidance and for clarity, for the strength to remember the love that had once been hers.

For even if the road ahead was long and uncertain, (Y/n) knew that she would never stop searching for the truth, for the answers that lay hidden within the depths of her own heart.

As (Y/n) stepped out onto the street, her mind focused on the simple task of buying snacks, she was unaware of the danger that lurked just around the corner. Oblivious to the world around her, she continued on her way, the sounds of the city fading into the background as she lost herself in her thoughts.

But then, as she reached the middle of the street, a sense of unease washed over her like a wave, a feeling of impending danger that sent a shiver down her spine. And before she could react, she heard the screech of tires and the roar of an engine, the sound of impending disaster echoing in her ears.

In that split second, time seemed to stand still as (Y/n) found herself frozen in place, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared down the oncoming car, its headlights bearing down on her like a freight train hurtling towards its target.

And then, just as the car was about to make impact, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her close to their chest with a force that knocked the breath from her lungs. She felt herself being lifted off her feet, carried to safety just in the nick of time as the car barreled past with inches to spare.

As the adrenaline coursed through her veins, (Y/n) clung to her savior, her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to catch her breath. And as she looked up into the face of the person who had saved her, she felt a surge of recognition wash over her like a tidal wave.

It was him—the man from her memories, the man whose name still eluded her but whose presence felt like coming home. In that moment, as they stood together in the aftermath of the near miss, (Y/n) felt a sense of connection that transcended the boundaries of time and memory, a bond forged in the fires of adversity.

And as she looked into his eyes, she knew with a certainty that defied explanation: fate had brought them together once again, and this time, she wouldn't let him slip away.

As the word "Beomgyu" slipped past (Y/n)'s lips, it hung in the air like a melody, a single note that reverberated through the silence of the street. And though she couldn't explain the sudden surge of recognition that washed over her, she knew with a certainty that defied logic: this was his name, the name of the man who had saved her life and captured her heart.

Beomgyu's breath caught in his throat as he stared down at her, his heart pounding in his chest with a ferocity that threatened to consume him. It was as if time stood still in that moment, the world falling away until there was only the two of them, bound together by the invisible threads of fate and destiny.

"Say it louder, please," Beomgyu whispered, his voice barely above a whisper as he pleaded with her to speak his name once more. His heart hung in the balance, teetering on the edge of hope and despair as he waited with bated breath for her response.

And then, as if guided by some unseen force, (Y/n) took a deep breath and said it again, louder this time, with a sense of conviction that sent shivers down Beomgyu's spine.

"Beomgyu."

The sound of her voice filled him with a sense of wonder and awe, like the first rays of sunlight breaking through the clouds after a storm. It was a name that held within it the promise of a love that had transcended time and space, a love that had endured even in the face of overwhelming odds.

And as he looked into her eyes, Beomgyu felt a sense of peace settle over him like a warm blanket, knowing that no matter what trials lay ahead, they would face them together, united by the bond that had been forged between them.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion as he pulled her into his arms, holding her close as if he never wanted to let her go. "Thank you for remembering."

And as they stood together in the glow of the streetlights, their hearts beating as one, (Y/n) knew with a certainty that defied explanation: fate had brought them together for a reason, and nothing in this world could ever tear them apart again.

As (Y/n) stood there, wrapped in Beomgyu's embrace, a sense of clarity washed over her like a cleansing tide. Though she still couldn't recall every detail of their past, she knew with a certainty that defied explanation: her future was with him, and nothing in this world could ever change that.

With tears glistening in her eyes, (Y/n) looked up at Beomgyu, her voice filled with conviction as she spoke the words that echoed in her heart.

"I remember that my future is you, Beomgyu," she whispered, her words a solemn vow that hung in the air between them like a promise. "My future is with you."

And as she spoke, Beomgyu felt a sense of wonder and awe wash over him, like a wave crashing against the shore of his soul. It was a moment of profound realization, a moment when the pieces of their shattered past began to fall into place, forming a mosaic of love and hope that stretched out before them like a roadmap to eternity.

With a smile that lit up the darkness of the night, Beomgyu took (Y/n)'s hand in his, his heart overflowing with gratitude and joy. In that moment, as they stood together beneath the starlit sky, he knew with a certainty that defied explanation: their love was stronger than fate, stronger than memory, stronger than anything this world could ever throw their way.

And as they walked hand in hand into the uncertain future that lay ahead, (Y/n) and Beomgyu knew that no matter what trials they faced, they would face them together, united in a love that had endured the test of time.

For in the end, they had found each other once again, and in each other's arms, they knew they had found home.

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theskeletonprior · 9 months

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This Tav Tale was commissioned by @quaintrix who graced me with the opportunity to write this fun little scene with Kar'niss! Thank you for trusting me with Solinore. This was incredible fun to write! Interested in a Tav Tale of your own? Look here for details. It is the third day, and Kar'niss is so, so hungry. Solinore can help with that. Content Tags: Blood-drinking, cult fanaticism, drider snuggles, some body worship. Read it on AO3!

At least, Kar’niss thinks, he will die bathing in his Lady’s light. His Queen, who saved him, who gave him purpose. A kind voice, a mighty voice, drowning out the torment of the evil that had been done to his body and mind. “I know you test us, Majesty,” he whispers. “But I have been strong. It is the third day, but we are not broken. We do not lower ourself to taste the blood of heretics. The filth.For you, I will endure these hunger pangs. Your light is all I need, my Queen. It purifies us against the pain.” Except that his strength is flagging, and his hunger only grows. He knows this, in his heart of hearts. Kar’niss holds tight to his Lady’s lantern. It is so cold here, in this twisted forest, and the darkness is deeper even than that in the land below, the spider bitch’s stolen kingdom. May she rot. May she rot! Kar’niss’ legs carve gouges in the dirt, as he lowers himself, holding the light close. And then he hears it. The snap of a dry twig, just beyond the clearing. It’s a terrible effort to pull himself up, and he staggers when he tries, baring his fangs at the intruder. “You—” The hunger pang rips through him like a thunderbolt, and he catches himself on the lantern. The soft, silvery light illuminates her, catching in her coral hair, the streaks of blue like a fading day. He’s seen a sunset in his exile, terrifying, beautiful... “Did you send her to me, Majesty?” Kar’niss whispers softly, taking in this vision, aglow in the lamplight. Solinore... He remembers. He remembers her name. The True Soul.

“No divine intervention here,” Solinore says. “Just me. Are you...” She looks him over, assessing. “Are you hurt or something? You look a bit stuck.” She takes another step closer, and Kar’niss snarls, skittering back, forelegs slashing the air. Solinore puts up her hands.

“Hey, relax. Same team, remember?” Kar’niss can feel his Lady working through her, forcing his need into the light, filling his mouth with the taste of blood, connecting his mind with Solinore’s by a thin gossamer thread. He recoils.

“You shame me, Majesty... Why?” He rakes his clawed finger through his hair. “Have I displeased you?” Solinore risks another step closer to him, fearless, radiant. Somehow the cold recedes as she draws near, and then he sees it. A scar on her throat from a vampire’s fangs. Could she be a spawn? No... He can hear her heart, he thinks. Kar’niss moves suddenly, and even this is not enough to make Solinore flinch. He catches her face in his chitinous hand, feeling for her pulse with the pad of his thumb. It quickens, and her cheeks take on a deeper pink, growing warm enough that he can feel it. He leans close, the hunger drawing him in. She’s alive.

“What has laid its fangs to your throat?” he asks, and Solinore chuckles at the question.

“Why? Want to take a bite?” Kar’niss skitters back from her, nearly tripping over his own unsteady legs as he draws himself up to his full height.

“Disgraceful,” he gasps, rumbling deep in his throat. His own heart quickens. “Do you hear her, Majesty? A bite? A bite?” As though it is something so simple. So freely, so easily given. But the hunger twists inside him, the profane agony that Lolth had cursed him with. He grits his teeth against the pain, against the fury.

“Not to judge,” Solinore says glibly, “but you look like you might need it.”

“It is the third day,” Kar’niss confesses, breathing through the pangs, “and we are starving. But you... You must understand... She does not know, Majesty, what she offers to us.” She does not know what we are. What it means to be what we are.

“You’re in pain. I get the part that means I get you out of a bind, and maybe you owe me one. What else is there to understand?” Solinore looks at him so gently, so gently in the light, and she smiles as though she still thinks this is a small favor. As though he’s asked for a copper to buy bread. “You’re not going to hurt me, right?”

“No.” Kar’niss knows in that instant that he would never. His own body, mangled as it is, would rebel against him if he tried. What angel have you sent to me, Majesty? “But we are starving... If we dare too much, if this wretched hunger...” He reaches out to touch, the curve of his talons stopping short of grazing Solinore’s cheek, the dark scar there. “Protect yourself from us. Take your dagger and do what you must, True Soul.”

“Solinore,” she corrects him, stepping nearer again, into the reach of his arm. He can forget the cold, the darkness all around them.

“Solinore. Yes. Do what you must, Solinore, if our restraint...” He inhales sharply. “If our hunger proves greater than my resolve. If we prove unworthy to taste you.” Kar’niss can see that darkening of Solinore’s pale pink skin, and when she looks back at him, it’s with a certain bashfulness... Or perhaps she’s simply trying to decide which of his eyes to look into.

“I can look after myself, trust.” She has a grin like a fox. “I have a few tricks up my sleeve. You’re not my first, remember.” Kar’niss is daring, again, and he touches the marks on her neck.

“That pale one,” he remembers, “with the scarlet eyes.”

“You know, you’re not exactly sunkissed, yourself,” Solinore teases, “but yes. We’re...” She sighs, frustrated. A momentary shadow. Kar’niss can feel her displeasure and something else that he feels he should not chase. “Never mind what we are.”

“Is he...” Kar’niss traces the marks with the very tip of his claw, restraining the desire to pierce the flesh, to lower his head... The thread of the question frays away. “...a jealous god?” Solinore’s laughter is so loud and so bright that it startles him. He recoils, and that just makes her grin broaden.

“You got the first part right,” she says. “He can be jealous... That’s fine with me. It’s fine.” She shrugs her slender shoulders. “So are you going to let me help or am I going to come back tomorrow to find your princely self lying on your back with all your legs curled in? Pretty undignified, if you ask me.” Kar’niss scowls, his lips peeling back from his sharp white teeth.

“Such irreverence, Majesty; does she wish to enrage us?” he grouses. “But the offer...” He inhales deeply, leaning down so that his face hovers just inches from Solinore’s. His dark eyes reflect her mismatched ones, pale green and pink shining against black. “We have warned you, True Soul... Solinore. We have warned you.”

“I’ve got the idea,” she says, rolling her head to expose her neck. All of Kar’niss’ eyes train themselves on the smooth, unmarked side of her neck. So welcoming. Kar’niss rests his lips against her pulse, feeling it against the delicate skin, but doesn’t yet open his mouth to bite. The desire is difficult to resist but he knows he must be strong, he must not be the monster Lolth has made him. No... No, he must be careful.

“Are you ready?” he asks, and Solinore makes another flippant reply that only his hunger allows him to ignore.

“Let me have it.” Kar’niss inhales. It’s hard to speak, instead of biting, instead of tasting. You have blessed me with strength, Majesty. You have made me patient. You have made me gentle.

“Put your arms around my neck,” he whispers, a rumble belying the command, “and remember what we told you.” Kar’niss keeps hold of the lantern with one hand, but when Solinore winds her slender arms around his neck, he catches her up with his free arm, and crushing her against him, pulling her into his torso with his forelegs. He grazes her skin with his teeth, a last warning. Solinore doesn’t so much as shudder. She relaxes. And then, at last, he bites. He’s mindful of the marks the vampire left; the jealous one. Solinore makes a soft sound, an airy sigh, and it almost rings to him of pleasure. Pleasure? It doesn’t matter. The taste of her blood obliterates everything. The pain, the weakness, it leaves him like a stone disappearing into a chasm in the deep of the underdark. Like a memory dissipating into fragments. So far lost that there’s nothing left to even begin looking. When he lifts her off the ground, his strength is effortless, and he feeds from her while her feet dangle off the ground. It is difficult, oh so difficult, but his Lady gives him the will to pull away, his chest heaving. He does not let even a drop of her escape, laving his tongue over his lips.

“More, please... May I...?” Solinore’s arms go tight around his neck again, and she leans into him. The pressure, the warmth of her body, is an unbearable call. “Please, let me...” And then she says it. She blesses him, takes pity on the evil ravening thing inside him.

“Yes...” He kisses the wound he’s made, and latches on, filling his mouth with that incredible taste, swallowing. There’s something else, something sweet in the blood. It makes him feel as he felt when he’d first seen the Lady’s light, and it warms him, saves him. When he begs for more, he cannot even think of feeling ashamed. And each time she tells him yes, yes, yes... It is a miracle. Not the foul, ugly feeding he’s known, the curse he must fulfill. The vicious attack, desperate for another day alive. A deep purr reverberates from his throat, a vibration that he’s certain that Solinore can feel. She tangles her fingers in his hair, stroking through the silken strands, and he could almost weep for joy.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, the words still thrumming with that deep purr. He holds her close, the lantern still dangling up above them, breathing in her scent in that blessed gleaming. “Thank you, oh, thank you.” Solinore stirs in his hold, and he adjusts, to cradle her, and the lantern, safe in its silvery radiance. She looks tired, as she gazes up at him, but she smiles with a satisfaction that makes his heart jump.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” Kar’niss agrees, helpless, adrift on the taste of fresh blood.

“What’s that noise? I can feel it...” Her hand drifts, her palm flat against his chest. “Here. It’s... Almost like a cat, when you scritch their ears just right.” Kar’niss settles down carefully in the dirt, keeping her cradled close. He can hear himself, still, feel the vibrations down to his bones.

“Your blood tastes sweet as my Lady’s love,” he tells her. “We cannot help but express our pleasure, to taste something that is so... miraculous.” He leans in, swiping his tongue over the marks left by his teeth, licking the wound clean. There is some quality of his saliva that numbs the pain of his bite, though it thins the blood some to make it easier to drink. “We are happy,” he breathes. “Sated.”

“I know what I want,” Solinore says, toying with the ends of his hair. “For the favor you owe me.” Kar’niss bends close to listen. What could she ask of us, Majesty? He expected this, but when she speaks again, it takes him by surprise.

“Be my noble steed.”

“Your what?” His purring stops, choked off by the request. He very nearly drops her, but she’s still holding on with one arm. Solinore giggles, still drifting on the same after-current.

“Let me ride ya, drider.” Even he has to admit that the half-rhyme is... Somewhat amusing. His indignation softens. He can forgive her sense of humor; she’s lately bled for him.

“We will carry you on our back and return you to camp,” he agrees. “She must rest, mustn’t she, Majesty? After giving so much...” Kar’niss lets Solinore down, but keeps his body low, to make it easier for her to swing a leg over his lower back. He offers her his arm. “Come, then.” Solinore straddles him, pressing nearly flush against his body, and surprises him again by draping her arms around his waist instead of around his neck.

“Hyah...” She pats at his belly and Kar’niss is helpless against a chuckle. An indomitable sense of humor on this one.

“Do not let go of us,” he warns sternly, getting his legs underneath him. He rises slowly, pausing only once when he feels Solinore sway, but she proves deft at keeping her balance. Holding his Queen’s lantern high, he makes his way back towards their camp, her warmth at his back. When they are nearly there, he can hear Solinore humming softly, and just for a moment, he remembers how it had felt to be complete. The darkness in his mind swallows it greedily, but the tune lingers long afterwards.

#bg3 #Kar'niss #Kar'niss x Tav #karniss #karniss x tav #Tav Tales #The Prior's Commissions

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crazycurly-77 · 4 months

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Like an old married couple - Chapter 7

After a good night's sleep you were heading to the office and were really very anxious, because you didn't know how Gibbs will react to you and you honestly didn't know how to react best to him, too.

But as soon as you entered the bullpen DiNozzo came straight towards you “so you do know Chinese martial arts? How come?”

You shrugged your shoulders “I'm only an apprentice. As pilot I have to train not only flying, but also a fast reaction in case of emergencies, strength and endurance. Furthermore I have to be always fully concentrated, focused and calm when I am flying. So I decided to learn these fighting skills, because there I can train all the skills which I mentioned plus I learn to defend myself in hand-to-hand combat. Additionally I'm training to run Marathon just for fun. I love to run and challenge myself.” “That's a good thing to know in case of emergencies“ Tony was stating and winking at you.

With that you walked to your desk, greeting Ziva, Tim and Gibbs on your way, Gibbs' eyes following you all the way. Then you sat down and began to work as every day.

But a few minutes later Ducky and Abby came into the office. They greeted the others and walked straight towards you.

Abby was very upset and was wringing her hands and Ducky smiled encouragingly at you.

You looked up, saw his face and only said “it’s time, isn't it?”

He looked down and simply nodded “yes”.

You took a deep breath, stood and in that moment Abby was falling into your arms hugging you tightly saying “do you really have to do this?”

You were hugging her back laughing “hey, if you steal my breath even now the test will be even harder to do. And yes, I have to do this otherwise I won't be allowed to fly.” This thought made you very sad as always when you have to do this test.

With this Abby freed you and as you turned to go to the gym for the test you saw the asking faces of your colleagues. So you decided to tell them. “I have asthma so I have to do regular tests how far I can go until I will get an asthma attack. And if I don't do this test or don't pass it I won't be allowed to fly.”

“I get that this is important, but why is Abby so beside herself because of a simple regular test?” Tim asked worried.

This caused you to smile bitterly and you confessed “she's afraid because of what happened the last time I did it.”

So far Gibbs had said nothing, but now he asked softly “Y/N…what happened?” He had a bad feeling about this.

You looked to Ducky for help, because you didn't know how to tell him and your other family the truth. So Ducky laid a hand on your shoulder, nodded, turned to the others and said “she had a heavy asthma attack and nearly died because of it.”

That they were shocked to the bones was the understatement of the year. But now at least they knew the truth.

Gibbs was the first to summon himself. He looked intently at you, stood and ordered “Y/L/N. Elevator, now.”

He didn't waited for any reaction, took you by the upper arm and marched to the cabin. As you were waiting for it his eyes felt like boring and burning into you.

When it finally arrived you both walked in. Gibbs pushed the button for the lab, but after a few seconds he turned the emergency switch and the cabin came to a sudden stop.

Looking up to Gibbs you saw him nearing you his eyes still glued to yours. In fact he was cornering you and backing you up against the wall of the cabin until your back was hitting the metal.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I have to” you simply stated.

“But you can refrain from flying and doing user rights in the future” he whispered anxiously.

“No can do. Flying is my profession” you whispered back.

“What do you think you are doing?!” he then asked in anger.

“Me? What do you think YOU are doing?!” you didn't understood what he was going on about and was getting a little angry yourself.

His answer came promptly as he was putting his hands on the wall on both sides of your head leaning in very close to you and yelled “I'm the BOSS!!!”

Still you didn't understood what his problem was. So you shrugged your shoulders and just said matter of factly “only when we are together in the field”.

To that he didn't responded. You two were in a staring contest and a fight of wills. You could see a myriad of feelings in his eyes and he could surely see them in your eyes, too. You felt as if he could see right into your soul.

But before you can think or do anything he laid his hand on your neck closing the miniscule distance between you and kissed you fiercely. It took you a short while to catch up with him, but then you responded and kissed him back as fiercely as he was kissing you.

You felt his other hand on your back as he pulled you to him and intensified the kiss. Your hands wandered from his chest to around his neck and you pressed yourself against him.

You only broke apart to take a much needed breath.

“I'm not letting you do this alone, I'm coming with you. No matter what” he said and kissed you once again.

You didn't knew how to deny him this, so you agreed “okay, let's go.”

“Okay” he answered determined.

Looking at you the whole time Gibbs was stepping back and turned the emergency switch so the elevator was moving again.

As it came to a stop on the floor of the gym Ducky was already there waiting for you. Abby was there, too. Gibbs took her by her arm and led her to the side a few meters from you. He laid his arm around her shoulder to calm her down and he tried to be strong for you, for Abby and a little bit for himself, too.

You walked over to Ducky. You two spoke shortly and then the test began. Luckily it went good so you indeed had an asthma attack, but it was a mild one and only at a high level of stress.

Nothing to worry about and after a short while everything was okay again and you had the allowance to fly furthermore.

You were all extremely relieved and on your way back to the office you heard Gibbs murmur in your ear “we need to talk.”

(To be continued...)

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Here you will find the other chapters of this story and the other stories I've written to date.

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#jethro gibbs x reader #ncis #gibbs #leroy jethro gibbs #gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #ncis fanfiction

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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 11 months

Text

"Crimson and gold"

Pairing: Tulkas x Maedhros

Themes: Smut | Soft

Warnings: Kissing | Dirty talk | First time | Oral

Word count: 1.7k words

Summary: A continuation of this short-fic. Tulkas and Maedhros finally consummate their relationship when the chance for them to do so presents itself.

Rating: 🔥| Minors DNI | 🔞 | You are responsible for the media you consume

Ever since Maedhros confessed, they had taken to sparring together, away from the others, and always just the two of them.

They would talk first. And they would talk about anything, and everything.

The fell beasts Tulkas slew.

His life before the creation of Arda, his battles after.

The troubles with Melkor, what Arda was like before its marring.

Maedhros' family, and the turbulent currents that oft drifted through the noble house of Finwë.

His pursuits, the things that bring him joy.

His brothers. The twins in particular, and their quest to test the limit of their family's patience.

Nothing was deemed too dark or too sacred. They would talk and talk, holding nothing back. Then Tulkas would teach Maedhros how to grip a sword, a spear. He would help him with his stance.

"Hold the spear this way," he would say.

"Stay like this while you swing the sword," he would say.

"Grip your shield like this," he would say, "and never like this."

Deceptions, all of them. For Tulkas, any opportunity to touch him was a welcome one. His thumb would brush over a knuckle, a wrist. His nose would glide over sweet-smelling auburn hair. He would be rewarded with a shiver, a wistful sigh. Glorious silver eyes would sparkle, the question contained within plain to any being with wit.

When?

Amber eyes always had a ready answer. Soon.

There had been kisses exchanged in dark corners, hushed whispers, and promises of more. There had been glances across a vast hall of tables, where those amber eyes always sought out the familiar grey ones. Again, the question was the same.

When?

And the answer would always be the same. Soon.

The others were always near, always seeking out the master and always pressing him with their questions. Even when it was just the two of them, an eager elfling would come running, asking for guidance and stories. It was sheer misery, this creeping about. Tulkas despised it. For Maedhros, it was no better. Still, they endured, keeping to the shadows, making themselves content with stolen kisses and rushed embraces. And then-

And then the others left for their own homes, their lessons now over for the season. Tulkas would finally be alone, for a little while at least. He invited Maedhros to stay with him. There would be no one then. No one with questions; no one barging in. The Maiar who served Tulkas would demand no explanations and would spread no tales. They could do whatever they wished. The elf agreed. He penned a letter to his father, his hand trembling with giddy excitement. Fëanor was quick to reply. He was pleased that his oldest child and heir wished to make the most of Tulkas' instructions.

Listen well. Learn well. Those were his lord father's counsel. Obey your lord in all things.

Maedhros could only smile when he read the words. If only his lord father knew.

The last meal of their first full day alone was a simple affair. Bread, roasted meat, stew, and wine. They ate well. Drank well. Talked. Laughed. Their hands touched. Legs brushed against each other beneath the table. Attendants walked in. The table was cleared. Lamps were snuffed out. Only the light of a few tapers remained.

"Come, Maitimo," Tulkas said, extending a hand and rising. Maedhros took it and trembled. There was so much strength to be found, even in such a gentle touch. And warmth. He followed through one dimly lit corridor after another, beneath one golden ceiling after another, until, finally, he was standing in his lord's private chambers.

"Come," Tulkas said again, drawing him near. They kiss. Embrace one another. It hurts; Tulkas is that strong. Maedhros ought to have cried out, but he did not. The craving to be held closer made the pain feel like a trifling matter, nothing more. Tulkas indulged him repeatedly, his hands exploring every inch Maedhros' inviting body. They stumble their way to bed, their kisses now a heated frenzy of teeth and tongues. Garments are disposed of without ceremony. Boots and leathers and tunics all form a growing pile. They embrace each other again, their bodies cupping each other in their desperation to be closer, to feel skin press against skin. Maedhros is pushed down onto the edge of the bed, his eyes filled with curiosity and his heart pounding in his ears. What was Tulkas going to do next?

"Have you experience?" Tulkas reached out to caress his cheek. Maedhros sighed. Closed his eyes. Pressed his lips against the flat of Tulkas' palm. "With anyone? Even for a little while?"

"None, my lord," Maedhros confessed. "This is all new to me."

Tulkas nodded, already ablaze from within. "Then let me show you the way."

He leans down and kissed Maedhros hard on the mouth. The first true moan spills free. Tulkas goes lower, searching, probing, tasting. He kissed the span of Maedhros' chest, the skin that smelled of new roses, and the peaks that hardened with each quickening breath. A hand delved into his hair.

"Do not stop," his student whispered.

Tulkas did not stop. A nipple fills his mouth even as a ragged gasp fills the air. He stroked and sucked, first one, and then the other, on and on and on. His hand reached down, finding the place of Maedhros' pleasure. It is already rigid to the touch. A flash of greed speared through him without warning.

"Spread those legs of yours as wide as you can for me," he commanded.

Maedhros obeyed. Then threw back his head after Tulkas sank to his knees and took him into the wet heat of his mouth. His lips, his tongue, his hands, were all instruments of Maedhros' bliss. He trembled. Something strange but electrifying sparked to life just beneath his skin. It smoldered and grew, surging within him like roaring flames about to consume him whole. His hands found their way into golden hair, and his hips lifted with each stroke, with each sinful flick of the tongue. The feeling within grew and grew. It was too soon. Maedhros knew it was too soon. He could not stop himself either. He let himself shatter, his mouth parting in a strangled cry. He felt the spurt of his warmth filling Tulkas' mouth. He shook, his body still caught in the throes of unmistakable rapture.

It was glorious, what he had experienced. And it came about fast. Too fast, he reckoned. It should have lasted longer. He should have held out longer. Would his lord be angry and chastise him for not possessing greater restraint?

"I am sorry," he said quietly, his cheeks red with shame.

Tulkas chuckled. It is soft and breathless, unlike the hearty bellows that would rattle around the great feasting hall during a meal. "Your cheeks are as red as your hair," he teased. "Tis a pretty sight, Maitimo."

He ran his tongue along the last remnants of milky white spend, not stopping until he was satisfied he had taken it all. Maedhros watched, ensnared by the sight. He trembled again.

"And there is nothing to be ashamed of." Tulkas rose to his feet. He caressed Maedhros' hair, his cheek. His thumb drifted over soft, bow-like lips. Visions of those lips parting for his cock often haunted him. "You did nothing wrong. Now open that pretty mouth of yours for me, Maitimo, and keep still. I will see to the rest."

Maedhros obeyed again, his eyes closing, his cheeks hollowing out and clenching with each thrust. The weight against his tongue and the little ridges that brushed against his lips were all unfamiliar sensations to him. He enjoyed them still, flicking his tongue and sucking harder, his hands reaching out to grip a pair of now familiar thighs. A hand brushed over his hair. Praise and half-whispered obscenities poured like honey into his ears. He grew drunk on them.

"Hearing your moans here and now was better than anything I have heard in my dreams."

"You feel as good as you taste."

"Deeper. Take me deeper."

"Keep putting that sweet tongue of yours to good use."

"Make me spend, Maitimo. I know you can."

Maedhros opened his eyes. He dared to look up. Tulkas' eyes had closed. His breath was ragged, filled with yearning, and his rhythm was now as erratic as his breathing. The markings on his fana pulsed and gleamed with a golden light of their own.

"You are perfect, my lord," Maedhros paused long enough to whisper.

Tulkas went still for a moment. His eyes darkened. He grew impatient, and pushed Maedhros' head harder, filling him to the hilt. Fistfuls of red hair are pulled out of the way in Tulkas' desperation to see. Maedhros grew bolder. He made use of his hand, tightening and releasing with each stroke. Tulkas shuddered. There was a vicious tug in his belly, pulling at him, dragging him to the precipice, over the edge and beyond it, casting him down a dark ocean of ecstasy. He lost himself within the waves, drowning as his orgasm ripped through him. The moan that followed was deep and long and drugging. He stopped and went still. A warm torrent pours onto Maedhros' tongue.

"Swallow." Tulkas cupped his cheek, encouraging him. "Take every drop of my spend. Go on."

Maedhros swallowed and drew back. His lips are now puffy and bruised, his body slowly filling with a welcome sense of ease. Tulkas leaned down and kissed him. There is tenderness this time, instead of heat and fire.

Starlight fills the room; the fragrance of flowers from the gardens below pours in through the windows. The room is hushed, the air still. They stay as they are for a brief while, now touching, now kissing. Tulkas finally pulled away. Their eyes meet. Maedhros blushes, grateful for having confessed his true feelings for his lord and mentor. Tulkas thinks: How blessed am I to have one such as him in my arms.

"There are bruises." He saw dark patches blooming along trembling arms, and the pale torso. He forgot his own strength and forgot that his companion was an elf, not one like him. It shames him. "Wait here. I have a balm for them."

Maedhros stopped him. "There is no need, my lord. This is what I desired. There is no cause for worry. I am well."

"But I have already gone too far. I can forget myself even more the next time and really hurt you."

"I trust you, my lord. I know that will never happen."

Tulkas hesitated for a moment. "Very well." He pauses, takes a deep breath. "But I insist you tell me if I do indeed go too far. Now move further up Maitimo. I would like to lay beside you while you rest."

Rest they did, their limbs entwined, their hair spreading out over the pillows in a blend of crimson and gold.

tags: @cilil @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese

#maekas #maedhros #maitimo #tulkas #tulkas x maedhros #tulkas imagine #maedhros imagine #tulkas smut #maedhros smut #the silm #the silm imagine #the silm smut #the valar #the ainur #sons of fëanor

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aita-blorbos · 6 months

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AITA for saving this guy's life?

First, I want to make it clear that I held no malicious intent in my actions. I'm still thoroughly convinced I was not in the wrong here. But, in essence, I do some robotic science on the side, specifically how organic life and machine can compliment each other and make each other stronger. I've succeeded on increasing the strength, endurance, and even the lifespan of rodents, birds, and pigs. However, as it turns out, it's a bit difficult to get human test volunteers for this endeavor. Which is understandable, it's pretty high risk, and not everyone wants to sacrifice themselves for the greater good. Really, I get it. Which is why I didn't push for it. Instead, I did what I did in a way that ensured no one was hurt.

There was an earthquake in a complex nearby, causing a total structural collapse. The rubble was pretty extensive, so I waited until the emergency services turned their backs and snuck into the area. I managed to find a man partially covered by the rubble, who was not yet dead, but was basically unsalvagable. Cursory examination proved that part of his skull was fractured beyond repair, his arm was totally mangled, there was terrible nerve damage... it was a miracle his heart was beating at all. Anyway, I got him back to my lab and started working on him.

You have to understand, there was no way this man was going to survive. There was absolutely nothing the paramedics could have done for him. He was just lying there unconscious, waiting to die. However, through weeks of painstaking stabilization and rigorous electronics work, I was able to not only keep him alive but repair the fatal damage to his skull. With my help, this man was going to survive.

The moment I was able, and I was sure he was stable and would not be in any pain, I woke him up from his (at this point) medically induced rest. I explained to him that I had found him in the earthquake wreckage, and used my superior engineering knowledge to resuscitate him. He seemed confused and intrigued by this; it turns out he was a roboticist himself, and couldn't fathom such a thing to be possible. Either way, I ran diagnostics and found that the cybernetic augmentations were running perfectly. His replaced eye could see perfectly well, his mental functions were not impaired, and his fine motor skills were still in-tact. He seemed perturbed that I had made such drastic changes to his composition, as well as the fact that I had amputated his arm (which was necessary to replace it, as it was entirely unusable in the state it was in). I did not pay heed to his concerns, instead asking him if he would like any particular features in his replacement arm.

I left him to his own devices and went to work on the arm after that. Unfortunately, I could not finish it, because a few days later my lab experienced a police raid. The authorities seemed particularly disturbed by what I'd done to the man. I confess, I got quite angry when they attempted to remove him from the facility. He was not currently fit to be walking about without my aid, after all! Nevertheless, they went on with it, and I was incarcerated.

I, to this day, do not understand what I did wrong. It was explained to me that robotically altering human beings without seeking consent is not ethically sound, which I understand, I really do, but I saved his life! Were any complications to arise, it would be because they yanked him from my care so soon in his recovery. And there were no complications, even then! He was able to create his own robotic arm (an impressive feat, I would have loved to work with him, which is yet another thing that was taken from me) and is now living out his life, perfectly healthy and comfortable. I think he landed a job as a college engineering professor, actually. Were it not for me, he would not have any of this; he would be under six feet of dirt.

I simply do not understand why my actions were so reprehensible.

(ocs)

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality #human experimentation

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noodledragon · 2 years

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I wrote an intro drabble for a series of slice of life rüdethieu drabbles (do we have a ship name yet 😭)

Summer 1522 (MDXXII)

“As God as my witness, I will make leave for Burgundy if he leads us in that blasted cantation for the fifth night in a row!”

“Brother Guy, if you cannot handle a little repetition, perhaps you have entered the wrong livelihood.”

Among the buzzing insects and the relieving shade of the lavatorium, Aedoc and Guy washed up for the evening meal. The two bickered like mother and daughter, even in the seasons following the closure of the scriptorium. Yet, the younger Guy was not against escorting the eldest monk to the refectory.

“Repetition is one thing. I can hardly recite my prayers because of that blasted song plaguing my mind!”

“Why don’t you inform Brother Rüdeger of your colorful opinions? He is always inquiring about feedback.” Aedoc teased, flinching as his walking stick slid and fell to the ground with a loud clatter.

“And have the others serve my head on a platter to the prior and abbot for Sunday supper? You would enjoy that.” Guy scoffed, picking up the stick after drying his hands. “Our soft hearted brothers only grow softer with all the coddling they receive these days—“

“Ahem.”

Mathieu stepped into the doorway, having been waiting to use the lavatorium before supper. His glasses obscured his eyes, but the displeased frown he wore spoke volumes alone.

Guy looked down at him, biting a defense on his tongue as he tucked his hands into his sleeves and took a deep breath. “Prior Mathieu, I—“

“Idle words as the ones you speak bring discord to Kiersau, Brother Guy.” He said tersely. “Perhaps you are hearing the beautiful cantations that have been laid upon Brother Rüdeger's faithful heart, but you are not listening to them.”

“Forgive me, Prior.”

“Off you go, do not continue such discussion at dinner. Let your mind be focused on Christ.” Mathieu’s nose twitched, but he relented after Guy dipped his head and hurried out without Aedoc, who shook his head as he scuttled behind.

Now alone, Mathieu let out a long sigh and began to scrub his hands. “Give me the strength, Lord, to endure these tests of patience.”

Eventually, peace washed over him and a small smile bloomed on his face as he thought of the song Guy disdained, specifically the song sung in Rüdeger’s angelic voice. He didn’t mind shouldering the blame for such repetition should the subject come up again.

‘I should not have confessed my favorite song to that sweet, sweet man.’ He thought fondly.

#pentiment #pentiment fic #brother mathieu #brother guy #brother aedoc #rüdeger x mathieu #mathieu x rüdeger #hoon art #this is so short but it’s a warmup listen #i’ll get to the saccharine sweet shit here soon #there’s gonna be smorchin

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whoreologium · 19 days

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Code: Baby ~ Saint Germain

Saint Germain’s reaction to his spouse being pregnant would be a mix of deep emotion and complex introspection, given his immortal nature and the weight of his past. Though outwardly composed, the news would strike at the very core of his heart, awakening feelings he may have buried long ago.

When his spouse tells him, Saint Germain would likely be silent at first, his ice blue eyes widening ever so slightly as the words settled in. A rare expression of surprise might flicker across his usually calm and enigmatic face. For a moment, he might struggle to find the right words, his mind reeling with the significance of the news.

After a pause, his lips would curve into a soft, gentle smile—one filled with both wonder and a hint of sadness. “Pregnant…” he would murmur, almost as if testing the word on his lips, his voice quiet but full of awe. “We’re going to have a child?” He would step closer, his gaze never leaving theirs, as though the news had rendered the rest of the world insignificant.

Despite his calm exterior, Saint Germain would likely feel a storm of emotions within him. As an immortal, he has lived countless lives, witnessed the rise and fall of empires, and endured countless sorrows. He might briefly wonder if he deserved the happiness that was now within his grasp. Could he, after all this time, be a good father? Could he protect this innocent life? Those thoughts would linger in his mind, even as he smiled lovingly at his spouse.

Saint Germain, ever the gentleman, would kneel before them, his hand resting delicately on their stomach. His touch would be light, almost reverent, as if afraid to break the moment’s fragile beauty. “You carry our child,” he’d whisper, his voice thick with emotion. “How remarkable… how precious.” There might be a shimmer of unshed tears in his eyes, a rare glimpse into the deeper feelings he usually keeps hidden.

Though he wouldn’t voice all of his worries, his spouse would likely see the shadows of them in his eyes. He would do his best to push them aside, focusing instead on the joy of the moment. Saint Germain would take their hand and kiss it softly, pressing it to his cheek in a gesture full of quiet affection. “I am truly blessed to have you… and now, our child.” His smile would be tinged with gratitude, his eyes shining with love and a hint of wistfulness.

As the days passed, Saint Germain would be devoted to them, always attentive to their needs and desires. His knowledge of history, medicine, and even alchemy would come into play as he sought to ensure their comfort and safety throughout the pregnancy. Despite his own worries, he would never allow them to feel anything but loved and supported.

In private moments, when it was just the two of them, Saint Germain might express some of his deeper concerns. “I have lived for so long,” he’d confess quietly one evening, his arm wrapped protectively around them as they rested together. “I have seen much… endured more than I care to admit. But this… this is something different. I have never felt such hope, such fear, and such joy all at once. I only pray I can be the father you and our child deserve.”

His spouse’s reassurances would comfort him, reminding him that his past didn’t define his future. With them by his side, Saint Germain would find strength in the love they shared, allowing it to guide him as he prepared for the new life they were bringing into the world.

Ultimately, Saint Germain’s reaction would be one of deep, quiet joy and fierce protectiveness. Though the weight of his past and his immortality might haunt him at times, the prospect of becoming a father would fill him with a renewed sense of purpose, grounding him in the present and giving him something truly precious to fight for. He would cherish his spouse and their child above all else, dedicating himself to their happiness and safety with all the love and devotion he had to give.

#code: realize #fanfic #x reader #saint germain

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theprayerfulword · 26 days

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August 30

1 John 1:9 If we confess our sins, He who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

Daniel 3:25 "Look!" he answered, "I see four men loose, walking in the midst of the fire; and they are not hurt, and the form of the fourth is like the Son of God."

Lamentations 3:40 Let us examine our ways and test them, and let us return to the Lord.

Psalm 139:24 See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.

1 Corinthians 11:28 Everyone ought to examine themselves before they eat of the bread and drink from the cup.

Revelation 19:8 And to her it was granted to be arrayed in fine linen, clean and bright, for the fine linen is the righteous acts of the saints.

May God grant you the means to discern what is right and learn what is good. Job 34

Just as your ear tests words and your tongue tastes food, may you grow in wisdom and increase in understanding by drawing close to God. Job 34

May you know that God's eyes are on the ways of men and He sees their every step, no matter how deep the shadow or how dark the place, for He knows the hearts and will make a way out for each who desire Him. The Lord will strive to convince each who do not, and He will guide your steps into the fields to those He knows, giving you seed for the soil that is prepared, water for the growing sprout, and tools for the ripened grain, ready for harvest. Job 34

May you be comforted that God is not swayed by your sins, affected by your failures, or enriched by your services for He is not a man, double-minded, changeable, or incomplete in understanding or knowledge. Job 35

May you come to a deep personal revelation of the fact that the Lord remains always our Source, our Strength, our Guide, and our Protector, the Way, the Truth, and the Life that we need, and fully deserving of all praise and honor. Job 35

May you remember that God is mighty, but does not despise mankind; He is exalted in His power, but reaches out to each of us, showing immense compassion. Job 36

May you understand that the Lord makes us savable, and then woos us, drawing us with cords of love, making Himself vulnerable by demonstrating His care, accepting rejection repeatedly until we finally turn and accept what we need, and what only the Lord can supply. Job 36

My child, fear not to walk in the way that I show you. Though it be rough and steep, I will help you. I am your strength and your endurance, My grace supports you in your weakness, and My love ministers to your needs. Though others who watch you may deride you, do not fear what they say. Understand My truth, which they do not have, nor can they receive, for their hearts are unrepentant. Though they accuse you of being weak because you depend on Me, and claim that you do not have the inner strength of character to stand on your own, the very truth is that their pride of life blinds them to their own weaknesses and failures. Be settled in your heart that what they say about you is true for both those who turn to Me and those who reject Me; all are weak and unable to stand on their own or withstand the trials of life. But those who are wise, and not blinded by their own pride and the lies of the enemy, understand that I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life wherein lies the power to overcome. For their sake, My love, I send you among them, that in meekness you may demonstrate My strength by letting your weakness be known; as you decrease in your reputation, I will increase before them in My power. Release your pride, My dear one, in order to walk in My Spirit, for then the harvest will truly be great.

May you set forth the truth plainly to every man, renouncing secret and shameful ways, not using deception, as you walk by God's mercy in your ministry, knowing that if the good news is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. 2 Corinthians 4

May you not preach yourself, but Jesus Christ as Lord and yourself as a servant for those to whom the gospel is preached. 2 Corinthians 4

May you always carry around in your body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in your body, the plain clay vessel which carries the treasure of the glory of God through Christ, that the all-surpassing power is known to be from God and not from you. 2 Corinthians 4

May you recall having heard what God has done in days long ago when fighting for His people, for others did not win their victories by their sword or the strength of their arm, but by God's right hand, His arm and light of His face, for He loved them as He loves you. Psalm 44

May you push back your enemies and trample your foes through the name of your King and your God, Who decrees victories for you. Psalm 44

May you not trust in your bow, nor expect your sword to bring you victory, for only God gives you victory over your enemies and puts your adversaries to shame; therefore, you will make your boast in God all day long and praise His name forever. Psalm 44

May you understand that to drive out the spirit of the mocker causes strife to leave and puts an end to quarrels and insults. Proverbs 22:10

May you desire a pure heart, which makes your speech gracious, for you will have the King for your friend. Proverbs 22:11

May you seek to know God's ways, which the eyes of the Lord watch over, even as you reject from your heart and your mouth the words of the unfaithful, which the Spirit of God causes to be unfruitful. Proverbs 22:12

#daily #blessings #prayers #scripture

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spiritsoulandbody · 5 months

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#DailyDevotions Jesus Is Our Greater High Priest

#DailyDevotions Jesus Is Our Greater High Priest Heb. 4 14Now that we have a great High Priest Who has gone through the heavens, Jesus, God's Son, let us cling to what we confess. 15 We have a High Priest Who can sympathize with our weaknesses. He was tempted in every way just as we are, only without sin. 16So let us come boldly to God's throne of grace to receive mercy and find grace to help us when we need it. So we've started off with Jesus is better than the prophets. He is better than the angels. He is better than Moses. Now we are entering Jesus is better than the Levitical priesthood, the high priest, the sacrifices and the temple in which they serve. We have a great High Priest who has gone through the heavens. He is such a High Priest now. He now only went through the various curtains in the temple of God on earth, He went through all the heavens, that is to say, all creation to the place of the Unoriginanate, to God's right hand. You simply don't get closer to the Father than that. Since we have such a great High Priest, we are told to cling to what we confess. We confess our faith in Jesus Christ. We have the confession Jesus is God, God's only Son, our LORD, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and buried for our sins. On the third day He rose again, ascended into heaven, is seated at the right hand of the Father and is coming again in glory to judge the living and the dead. This High Priest can sympathize with our weaknesses. When Jesus sympathizes with us, He commiserates with our suffering. So Hebrews says, "He was tempted in every way just as we are, only without sin." Now tempted in the Greek here can be tempted to sin but also tested. We go through many temptations in life. We are also tried by many circumstances. Jesus is not unsympathetic to our circumstances. Like us, He went through many temptations to sin. Like us, He was tried by many circumstances in life. In all these, He did not sin. He felt all these things in Himself, just as you and I feel them. More than that, because we are joined to Him through baptism, He goes through everything we ourselves go through. We are never alone in our trials, tribulations, temptations and testings. He is going through them with us, giving us His strength to endure and overcome them. Since we have such a High Priest, we are therefore encouraged to boldly go to God's throne of grace to receive mercy and find grace to help us when we need it. This is fantastic! Just as Jesus our High Priest has gone through the heavens, because He shares with us our flesh and blood and we are given His Spirit, we can come to the place where He is at the right hand of God the Father in glory and present our request to God the Father. Note, it is a throne of grace we are approaching here. This is the place we get what we do not deserve. It is a place we receive mercy and grace from the Father. Mercy is not just pitiful feelings toward us but God the Father's action and power toward us to provide for us what we need. It is there to help us in all our times of need, whether overcoming temptation or bearing up through a personal trial. Jesus, our great High Priest, through the sacrifice He provided, opened up the throne-room of God's grace for us, so we may boldly ask for help when we need it. Mercyfulf and gracious Father, grant us help in our time of testings and temptations, through the blood of Christ, so with Christ, we may overcome them and share in Your glory. In Jesus' name we pray. Amen. Read the full article

#Christ #Christianity #devotion #faith #Jesus #LCMS #Lutheran #Messiah

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iamfrobsessed · 10 months

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chapter 1: The Beginning of a Dream: part 1

Here's the first chapter to a book series I'm writing, let me know if you like it, would like me to continue to post updates here, and give me any tips on how to better and edit the story, thanks!

> Chapter 1: The Beginning of a Dream

The rain gently tapped against my bedroom window, creating a peaceful symphony that echoed in the depths of my soul. The dim light from the bedside lamp cast a soft glow upon the room, illuminating the rows of books that lined the shelves, each bearing tales of love and adventure. As I nestled into the cozy armchair, thoughts began to weave their way through the fabric of my mind, urging me to dwelve into the depths of my own desires, my longing for a love like those I had encountered in books and films.Ever since childhood, I had been enamored with the notion of true love. I would lose myself in storybooks, immersing my imagination in the pages that held tales of love's enduring strength and resilience. From Romeo and Juliet's tragic romance to Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy's tumultuous journey, each love story left an indelible mark on my heart, igniting a yearning within me to experience a love so profound.Films, too, had added fuel to this flame of longing inside me. As I would sit in the darkened cinema, emotions swirling within my chest, I would witness character after character finding their soulmates, their hearts magically intertwined. On-screen kisses, whispered confessions, and sweeping declarations of love became my sustenance, feeding this belief that such love was not just a figment of imagination, but something tangible, waiting for me to discover.And so, in my own rather ordinary life, I found myself seeking glimpses of this extraordinary love - deadlines, meetings, and daily routine be damned. I yearned for a connection that transcended the mundane, that lifted me from the ordinary and placed me on the threshold of something truly extraordinary. I craved a love that would stretch across every realm of my existence, binding together my heart and soul in an unbreakable bond.As I sat contemplating these yearnings, I began to question whether such a love truly existed beyond the realms of fiction. Were these stories mere illusions, concoctions of words or scenes crafted by skillful writers and directors to toy with our emotions? Or could they be glimpses into a hidden world of truth, unlocking the secrets of a love that eluded so many in the vast expanse of reality?I pondered over the love that had surrounded me in my own life. Friendships that had stood the test of time, offering unwavering support and shared laughter. Family bonds that held us together, through thick and thin, reminding me that love was indeed possible and could manifest in various forms. Yet, as much as I cherished those connections, a small part of me remained restless, continuously searching for that elusive love that would whisper poetry to my soul.Deep down, I longed to be swept away by a love that mirrored those cherished tales etched in my memory. The kind of love that defies logic, reason, and societal expectations. The kind of love that ignites a fire within, illuminating the darkest corners of one's being. The kind of love that transcends time, space, and all constraints of the mortal world.

Part 2 posted already, it's a continuation of chapter 1

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jdgo51 · 1 year

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Don't Waste Your Pain

Today's inspiration comes from:

Hope When Life Unravels

by Adam Dooley

Silver Linings in Dark Places

"Surveying the various good outcomes God frequently produces from our agonies requires a careful word of caution.

Because knowing the mind of God is impossible (Romans 11:33-34), discerning His intentions demands humility. Though it is true that God may have a singular goal for our afflictions, His desired end is often multifaceted and complex. You may understand something of God’s design for your hardships, but the full breadth of His intentions is often incomprehensible.

Grasping for understanding of what God might be teaching you is commendable, but speaking dogmatically for Him is not. We should be proactive in order to grow, without being presumptuous regarding the Lord. With these boundaries in place, the following list is by no means comprehensive. These are just some of the beneficial results God brings into our lives through our suffering.

Trials Grow and Strengthen Our Faith

Because God is more concerned with our character than our comfort, sometimes He chooses to use calamity in order to sanctify us. James 1:2-4 explains:

Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.

If ease or happiness is your primary goal in life, you will likely feel frustrated and betrayed when God chooses to deepen your maturity through a trial. The potential for meaningful development and growth, however, may be greatest when we are hurting the most. Will you eagerly follow a God who will likely break you in order to mature your commitment to Him?

Before Carson was sick, I confess that my life was relatively easy — no major heartache and few serious problems to weather. This first real challenge to my faith tested everything I said I believed. Even though I had preached for more than a decade with an adequate knowledge of the Scriptures, suddenly my situation forced me to reckon with my confidence in the fundamentals of my faith.

Surface faith will not suffice when circumstances threaten what you treasure most in life.

I am thankful that throughout our dilemma, my confidence in God’s truth only deepened. Before I might have told you what I believe about Christianity. Today I can tell you what I know from firsthand experience.

Trials Deepen Our Fellowship with Jesus and Reveal His Strength

When speaking about his primary goal for living, the apostle Paul reminds disciples of Jesus of the need to seek to

know Him and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death. — Philippians 3:10

Though most of us are eager to experience the power of Christ’s resurrection, we are less enthusiastic about the fellowship of His sufferings. Do not forget, however, that the agony of Golgotha preceded the glory of His victory over the grave. As we learned previously, experiencing the power of Christ’s resurrection begins on the road of heartache.

In a similar way, receiving God’s power in our lives will require enduring great wounds without wavering. Apart from suffering, we simply cannot learn about God or relate to Him on an intimate level. Believing that God is real and present is one thing; trusting that He is enough, no matter what we face, is another thing entirely.

Though we are quite capable of cognitively grasping these ideas, we cannot embrace them fully until we experience their reality for ourselves.

Trials force us to move beyond superficial knowledge of Jesus into a meaningful, daily walk with Him. Even those who believe the gospel and claim a relationship with God sometimes fail to live in light of their commitment. Tragically, though we know God is there, we seldom feel like we need Him. Before Carson’s diagnosis, I often preached about the peace of God, but I seldom felt like I needed it. My prayer life was consistent, but it left much to be desired. I read my Bible to prepare sermons, but I rarely did so with desperation to hear from the Lord. My outward obedience was, at times, lacking the inward fellowship with God that I now crave.

Maybe you can relate. Do you pray more when times are tough? Is your Bible always close by when you are searching for answers? Is your church worship attendance noticeably more frequent when things have gone awry in your life? Why are these patterns so apparent? Stated simply, it’s because suffering forces us to live what we really believe. Thus, the Lord beckons us into a deeper, more meaningful fellowship with Jesus through the doorway of hardship. In our weakness, we move from having a cognitive awareness of His strength to experiencing the personal peace it brings.

Trials force us to move beyond superficial knowledge of Jesus into a meaningful, daily walk with Him.

Trials Increase Our Effectiveness in Serving Others

We seldom consider how our current struggles might prepare us for future service, yet God often equips us to serve others as a result of our most painful experiences. In 2 Corinthians 1:4, we learn that God the Father comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.

In addition to the personal benefit God produces, the fruit of adversity in our lives will often bear the seeds of comfort for other hurting believers along the way. The Lord’s intention to comfort us is also His investment in bearing the pain of others who are not even hurting yet. When we enjoy the supernatural peace that surpasses our understanding today, we become distributors of that same consolation to others tomorrow and every day thereafter (Philippians 4:7).

Today I regularly receive calls from other pastors and churches whenever a child they know is diagnosed with cancer of some sort. Though I was completely unaware of it at the time, God was giving my wife and me the gift of His comfort so that we could share it with other hurting people. Your trials will enable you to do the same.

Trials Embolden Other Christians to Be Courageous for Christ

Similar to its impact on those outside of Christianity, resolute commitment to the Lord despite adverse realities is a powerful motivator for other believers as well. Again, God’s servant to the Gentiles is a powerful example of maximizing our deepest moments of despair for the kingdom of God. Philippians 1:14 celebrates this: “Most of the brethren, trusting in the Lord because of my imprisonment, have far more courage to speak the word of God without fear.” In other words, Paul’s devotion to Christ in prison was a powerful influence on believers who were not suffering. Those who were less committed were challenged to devote their lives to the gospel because one man was willing to serve God under any circumstance.

Think about the Christians who inspire you the most. Chances are you watched them walk through a season of difficulty without wavering. When I was a boy, my favorite teacher fought a brain tumor for nearly four years. This giant of a man demonstrated the substance of Christianity to me in a profound way. Before one of his surgeries, he sat me down in the hallway of my elementary school one day and declared, “I am not afraid to die, and you won’t be either if you will live every day of your life for Jesus Christ.” That conversation still impacts me today. Mr. A, as we called him, ultimately lost his earthly battle with cancer, but he is still enjoying his heavenly reward for such profound faithfulness. His life emboldened me to give myself more fully to my Savior. Your suffering may allow you to do the same for someone else.

Trials Can Be a Form of Discipline Intended to Produce Repentance

No Christian will ever experience the condemnation of God (Romans 8:1). However, Scripture explicitly teaches that God does discipline those who belong to Him. Hebrews 12:9–11 reminds us:

Furthermore, we had earthly fathers to discipline us, and we respected them; shall we not much rather be subject to the Father of spirits, and live? For they disciplined us for a short time as seemed best to them, but He disciplines us for our good, so that we may share His holiness. All discipline for the moment seems not to be joyful, but sorrowful; yet to those who have been trained by it, afterwards it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness.

Sometimes trials are the consequences of our sinful choices and actions. Other times our adversities may not be directly traceable to a specific moment of disobedience, but God intends to produce greater holiness within us nonetheless. God loves us too much to ignore any behavior or perspective that would push us away from Him. Like a loving father, He carefully and expeditiously works to correct us when we stray. Though this involvement in our lives can be painful at times, it proves God’s affection for us rather than His abandonment of us.

Excerpted with permission from Hope When Life Unravels by Adam Dooley, copyright Adam B. Dooley.

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beyondtsh · 2 years

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Don’t Give Up – Give It to God

New Post has been published on https://wp.me/pe1Nfh-Gv

Don’t Give Up – Give It to God

A friend of mine shared one of her devotionals online and the notation said, “Don’t Give Up – Give It to God.” This is not only inspirational on the day you read it, but it’s something that, as Christians, we should never forget.

No matter what hand you’re dealt in your life, it’s never too great to just give up. Always give your troubles or despair over to God and He’ll give you the strength and stamina to get through it.

Don’t Give Up, Mom

When I first read the devotional, it brought back memories of my mother. At the young age of 63, mom was given the diagnosis of terminal cancer. I remember her strength and her faith in the Lord that whatever He had planned for her, He would give her what she needed to get through it.

I remember my brother saying she prayed every day and every night for peace and comfort. She prayed that if the Lord wasn’t going to heal her, that He take her Home quickly so she wouldn’t be in pain.

She’d already been in pain for seven years while one doctor after the other tried to figure out what was wrong with her. Why was she in pain? Why was she breaking out in hives? Why did her legs give out and she’d just fall for no apparent reason?

The Dark Diagnosis

One diagnosis after another; one treatment after another, for seven years. It took a keen specialist to connect the dots and do a bone marrow test.

When she heard the results of the test – no cure – she never asked for her prognosis. She said it wasn’t for the doctors or her to try to figure it out. When God was ready for her to come Home, she’d go Home. It was up to Him.

She continued her daily devotionals for as long as she could. She left her job for permanent disability. She gathered us kids together to draw up her will, and continued to live life. And she asked the Lord daily for the strength to keep going for as long as He wanted her to.

Her last weeks were rather dismal, but the doctors kept her as pain free as possible until He knew it was time.

God Doesn’t Give Up on Us

Looking back over my life and, as Crowder says, the “unspeakable things I’ve done,” I know it was Him who gave me the strength to get through my mother’s death and the many, many things that came after, even though I didn’t realize it at the time.

I was saved and baptized when I was 21. Shortly after I had a huge falling out with the church I attended at the time and it really soured me on going to church at all. Over the following decades, while I didn’t lose my faith; I still believed in God and I still knew I was saved, but I was far from following His word.

Bad and Sinful Life Decisions

Bad relationship after bad relationship; one child out of wedlock, one abortion, clubbing and drinking on the weekends, etc. While I never got into drugs or got into any serious legal troubles, I was still a bad girl. One sin is just as bad as another. There are no big sins or small sins and I was definitely on a dark path.

Some people criticized President Trump for having three marriages. I can’t say anything; I married my fourth husband in 2004 and I’m his third wife. My mother used to joke with me that I was like Liz Taylor; I was just going to keep at it until I got it right. I got it right in 2004. Unfortunately, she didn’t live to meet the amazing Christian man I married.

I have to confess, in retrospect, Jesus never, ever gave up on me! I got myself into situations where I could have been killed, and probably should have been, especially after having an abortion. But He had other plans for this rebellious soul.

I often said to myself, “Don’t Give Up.” But – I wasn’t exactly giving it to God when I should have been. Psalm 118 explains it perfectly: “His mercy endures forever.” Even though I was on the wrong path and not giving my troubles over to God, He was being merciful to me as one of His children.

God definitely “chastened me severely” (Ps. 118:18) over the years to bring me back into His fold. And when I finally came back, it was on the proverbial “bended knee,” tears and all.

Lay It All at His Feet

Today I live with a few medical ailments that can get the best of me sometimes. In fact, they can knock me down pretty hard some days. But I’ve learned over the last couple of years that I not only Don’t Give Up, I give it all to God now.

And when I’m having the most difficult days, I keep telling myself, Don’t Give Up. “His mercy endures forever.”

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noire-pandora · 2 years

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And I see my hands can make, The world that is in your mind

Since the authors for the @arlathanxchange have been revealed, I can share the piece I wrote for @bogunicorn. Thank you for offering me the chance to write about Solas/Cassandra. I hope you like it.

My kuods go to the organisers of this exchange, I had lots of fun participating. And for making this hella cool banner. Look how awesome it is!

My thanks also go to @darethshirl and @sinsbymanka who beta-ed this. You’re the best.

Without further ado, here’s a snippet from my piece. You can read more on my AO3. Kudos and comments are always appreciated!

"Why are you worried about me?"

Solas popped the cork of one of the vials containing the healing potions. His answer lingered stubbornly between his parted lips.

"Well?" she persisted with half a breath.

Solas closed his eyes and avoided her searching gaze. The vials trembled in his hands, but before she could voice her concern about the contents, he spoke again, his eyes still closed. "Why should I not be, when you risk your life every day to defend the Inquisitor and the rest of our group?" His voice trembled in unison with his hands and a knot grew in Cassandra's throat at this sincere display of emotion. "When I know you'll take the fall to defend them, even if it means you will endure blow after blow without complaining even once?"

For months, Cassandra's feelings for Solas have grown at an alarming rate. A gentle infatuation had turned into a burning love. A love she had never dared confess to Solas. For even though he gladly returned her kisses, she could not be sure if their connection was just a fleeting adventure or something more.

She dared not hope, not even then, when his hands begged to be held and comforted. She had to be sure before she allowed the words growing in her heart to unfold.

"But I have done that for so many years," she began, testing the waters. “I have learned to live with it."

"I understand." He nodded, daring to look at her again, the grey of his eyes suffused with an emotion she had dreamed of seeing on his face. "And you do it with so much grace I can not help but feel impressed and fascinated by your strength. But still, it is unfair you have to bear these blows every day."

With a nod, Solas offered her the vials to drink from. She took the medicine without complaint and braced herself for the awful, bitter taste to take her breath away. But instead of bitterness a sweet, honey-like aroma enveloped the inside of her cheeks.

He had sweetened it just for her. Even though she had never complained, he understood her struggles without her saying a word.

"Un— unfair?" She stumbled over the word and tried to keep her head into the conversation. "But it is my duty to do so. That is why I have trained for so many years."

"That is why you still train daily, until your fingers crack from the exertion." As if to punctuate his words, he took the vials from her hand, his fingertips lingering on the blisters and corns covering her skin. "And yet, my heart aches with every cut and scrape I have to heal."

Casaandra snorted. "It should not, or you would go into shock every few minutes."

With a laboured grunt he rose from the bed and approached the table again where he lingered, as if fearing the direction of their conversation. "I have told my heart many times to stop being so utterly foolish but it will not listen."

Seeing Solas, seeing a man fretting over such worries, gave her more pleasure than she had imagined. Yet, she needed to understand why, to be certain it was not her overly romantic imagination playing tricks on her. "I wonder why?"

"Because it's concerned for your fate and safety," he whispered with his head bowed, like a defeated man bowing to the truth. "Because the thought of losing you would..."

"Solas....."

"I know." He laughed, a laugh covered in so much bitterness it stunned her. "I am foolish to fear for your safety, and I apologise for doubting your ability to care for yourself."

"I am glad you do. Fear for my safety, that is."

"You– you do?"

#dragon age #fanfiction #solas #cassandra #solas/cassandra #arlathanexchange #i had so much fun participating in this one #i hope i'll be able to participate in the next one too #and maybe write more!#until then

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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years

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Day 16: Tulips

With the possible exception of all of the eighth years getting along and actually becoming friends, regardless of their former rivalries, the first half of Draco's eighth year at Hogwarts was remarkably ordinary. Funny how it took a war to see that they were all just children and all being used as pawns in a bigger game.

There was also, for Draco, the realization that he had a bit of a crush on Potter. He found that he actually really enjoyed the other boy's company; he enjoyed his snarkiness and the way that Draco could see mischief in his eyes. He liked the way Potter listened, liked the way he always seemed to want to casually touch other people. He liked him, plain and simple.

But other than the unlikely truces turned friendships (and in the case of Potter, turned crush) nothing weird happened, no one tried to kill him (or other students), no prophecies were unveiled, there were no dementors, no psychopath teachers, nothing. It was almost enough to make Draco bored.

Almost.

There was nothing strange until one unassuming morning in March, when they were all sitting in the great Hall, eating breakfast, and quizzing each other for the upcoming test in Transfiguration.

Potter interrupted the heated debate that Draco was having with Granger with a blurted, "What the fuck?"

Everyone looked over at him, including Hermione and Draco, to see what had happened.

"There's a tulip in my coffee cup!" the other boy said.

"So there is," Draco replied in amusement.

Everyone chuckled and Potter tried to figure out who had put the bright yellow tulip there but Draco really didn't have time to think about that because he and Hermione were back to arguing about Transfiguration theory.

He probably wouldn't have thought about it again but that evening as they got ready for bed, Draco felt a strange twinge in his magical core, like you got when you were preparing to cast a strong spell.

Before he could really dig into what had happened, Potter's bed curtains flew open, "Alright, you lot," he said, a laugh ruining the stern look he was attempting. "Who put this here?" he asked, holding out a red tulip that he'd apparently found on his pillow.

(Read more below the cut)

Each of them denied having any knowledge of how the tulip could have found its way into Potter's bed, but a bit of unease settled in Draco's stomach. Potter put the second tulip in with the first in the vase on the windowsill and laughed it off.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, there was a story he'd been told as a child. A story that he couldn't quite grasp but filled him with a bit of apprehension none the less.

Still, this was nothing like the sort of anxiety that Draco had been accustomed to forcing himself to sleep through for the past few years, so he put it from his mind and went to sleep.

And again, he might have been able to forget about it, if it weren't for the fact that the next morning he felt a tug at his magical core and then a few minutes later, Potter appeared with another tulip. White this time and he'd found it in the pocket of his robes. "Seriously, what the hell you guys?" he laughed.

Everyone else laughed too, but Draco frowned, the memory of the story niggling at the back of his mind once more, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He continued to try to remember throughout the rest of the week and Potter continued to get tulips. They showed up in his book bag, the showed up in place of his quills, they showed up on his plate at meals, they showed up everywhere and anywhere. One even replaced his loofa in the shower.

By the end of the week, Potter was getting a bit irritated and he'd had to enlarge the vase multiple times to fit all of the tulips. Draco wasn't sure why Potter hadn't just thrown them out, but it wasn't his place to say anything, certainly.

On Saturday, when everyone had gone off to Hogsmeade for the morning, Draco fire called his mother.

"Draco, darling," she said, smiling at him, "I'm so pleased to hear from you. How are you?"

He endured the predictable pleasantries before he said, "Listen, mother, the reason I called," he paused there because this was all a bit ridiculous. "Well, it sounds silly really, but there was a story you told me when I was little," he said. "Something about a wizard who had flowers appear out of nowhere? I can't remember it."

"Why?" she asked, her face serious. "Draco, why are you asking me about that story?"

"No reason," he said quickly. "It's just something that came into my head," he lied.

"Who's receiving tulips, Draco?"

"It's nothing!" he repeated. "And I never said there were any tulips."

"If I tell you the story, will you tell me the truth?"

Draco sighed but nodded.

"The story," she began, "was about your great, great, great uncle Silas. Silas was a difficult man, everyone always said so. He was haughty and rude; he was quite clever but not terribly gracious about it."

"Mother," he interrupted, his knees were growing cold and sore from kneeling on the common room floor, "could we just skip to the meat of the story."

"Yes, alright," she sighed. "Long story short, Silas fell in love with a muggleborn. His family obviously refused to let him get married, assuming that the love would fade eventually. There was an arranged marriage in there as well, but that's not really important. What is important, is that the person he fell in love with began to find tulips everywhere. Every time she went to pick up something, it turned into a tulip; at her home, her work, everywhere she went, tulips."

Draco felt something in the pit of his stomach drop. This couldn't be happening.

"He was pining for her, heartbroken that he couldn't be with her," she said. "Now, magic can't create something from nothing, so in each of the tulips was a little bit of Silas' magic."

"Like a horocrux?" he asked in horror.

"No, darling, nothing so sinister as that. But the flowers were slowly draining his magical core and he was growing steadily weaker." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "So, as the story goes, when he was so weak he could barely summon the strength to stand, he went to her to confess his love. What did it matter if he was going to die? When he told her of his love, she kissed him and his magic was restored. The family was convinced that it was true love and that the love that bound the two of them together was obviously stronger magic than that of blood status."

Draco rubbed a hand over his face, "So, this was a true story?"

"Yes, it's all rather well documented as it would have to be in the case of something like this." She gave him her most commanding look, "Now, I've held up my end of the bargain, so it's your turn. Tell me who's receiving tulips, Draco."

"Harry Potter," he whispered.

Her eyebrows rose, "You have to tell him, Draco."

"I can't!" he said, shaking his head, "You know I can't. He couldn't possibly feel the same way, he couldn't possibly love me, too-"

Something shattered behind him and he yanked his head back to see the boy in question standing there, bouquet of tulips in his hands. The vase had dropped and been smashed, water was soaking into Potter's socks but he didn't seem to notice.

Draco promptly ended the fire call with his mother and wondered if it would be possible to transfer to Beauxbatons to complete the year. It was either that or he should just go off to die.

"How much of that did you hear?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"Most of it," Potter confessed with a little wince. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop but then I heard her talking about how everything in that girl's life became tulips and I knew you were talking about me. I didn't realize how the story would end," he hastened to add. "I just thought that she might know something about a curse or spell that had been cast on me."

Draco rubbed his forehead, "Look, could you just forget about the whole thing?"

"Forget about it?" Potter asked, sounding a little hysterical at this point. "Draco, it turned six quills into tulips in the past three days. Six!" he shook his head. "No, I can't forget about it and I certainly can't let you die."

Draco stood up and balled his hands into fists, "Always ready to play the hero aren't you?"

"What?" the other boy asked, obviously taken aback.

"Ready to play the martyr," he sneered. "Well I won't have it. I won't have you tying yourself to me just because you're afraid that I'll die if you don't return the sentiment."

"But I already do return the sentiment," Harry said, sounding bewildered. "Sorry, maybe I should have said so, but I thought that was obvious from the story."

"What?"

"Well, your mum said that it was true love's kiss that restored his magic, true love that made it possible for the flowers to appear in the first place. I just assumed it was obvious that I was in love with you, too."

"You are?" he whispered, hardly daring to believe that this was possible.

"Yeah," Harry replied with a little shrug. "I mean, I thought maybe it would have been good to start with a date or something," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "It's why I'm still here, I wanted to invite you to go to Hogsmeade with me."

"You did?"

Harry nodded again. "But I'm glad to kiss you, for the unselfish reason that it will restore your magic," he said, glancing down at the flowers in his hands before looking back up, "And for the selfish reason that I would really just like to kiss you."

"You would?" he asked.

Harry huffed at him, "Are you going to stop sounding like you doubt every word out of my mouth?"

"Sorry, it's just-" Draco started but then Potter was across the room, dropping the tulips as he cupped Draco's face in his hands and leaned in until they were a mere inch apart.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked softly, his eyes flickering between Draco's.

"Yes," Draco breathed.

Harry gave him a little grin and leaned in to kiss him, his soft, full lips, gently caressing Draco's, and Draco felt like his heart stopped beating for a moment before a surge of magic, and joy, and love came rushing in and filled him to bursting.

He wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and pulled him in closer and Harry hummed, molding his lips to Draco's for a moment before pulling back and resting their foreheads together.

"That was-" Draco started.

"Fantastic," Harry agreed. "Do you feel better? Not going to die on me or anything?"

Draco laughed and pinched his side, "I think we were a long way off from that."

"I don't know," Harry replied, tilting his head to press a kiss to the tip of Draco's nose. "There were an awful lot of tulips."

"Yes," Draco replied, pulling back to look at the tulips strewn about the floor, "And you've dropped them all on the ground. That's quite rude, you know."

Harry huffed at him, "Prat," he said fondly before drawing away to swish his wand and collect all of the tulips and put them back into the repaired vase. "So," Harry said, "I think tulips may be my new favorite flower."

"Mine, too," Draco replied with a smile.

And when they got married, two years later, there were tulips everywhere.

Day 15: Wings | Day 17: Salt

#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #drarry drabbles #drarry ficlets #boys in love #true love conquers all #drarry #day 16 #thanks so much for the prompt anon #enjoy

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