#truly his valley of the shadow of death

[the-strength-of-the-wolffe]

Looking at “Rising Malevolence” and “Mercy Mission” together, you can see how much Wolffe and Sinker evolve over the course of four seasons. What’s fascinating to me is that their character arcs move in opposite directions.

"Rising Malevolence" brings them face-to-face with death for the first time; they couldn’t be in a worse situation. Of the four survivors, Wolffe is the most vulnerable and the least useful. Nevertheless, he stands fast. His strong spirit enables him to put forth his best conduct: he’s steady, trusting, even good-humored. Sinker is not. His spirit has been depressed for a long time already, so he can’t help succumbing to negativity in the heat of the moment.

The massacre roots a new fear in both of them: fear of loss. It’s their responsibility to keep their men alive, and yet they both failed. What’s to stop it from happening again? They have no control over who survives and who doesn’t, when and where and how their troopers will die, whether it’ll be a few casualties or an entire battalion.

Amidst this fear, both of them are confronted by Plo Koon. A general who vows to share that responsibility with them. Who, through actions and not just words, commits to the kind of leadership that not only values their men’s survival but also their wellbeing.

This is the crossroads where their arcs diverge.

Sinker, against all his instincts, vices, and traumas, decides to trust General Plo. It doesn’t come easily, or all at once, but, as the Jedi continues to make good on his promise, he learns to ease up. Gradually, his spirit heals and grows stronger. By “Mercy Mission,” he’s noticeably more lighthearted, invested, and confident: a man transformed for the better.

Wolffe, however, can’t let go of his fear. It’s proportionally greater than Sinker’s; he has lost, and stands to lose, much more. He does trust General Plo, deeply, but he also harbors the disturbing knowledge that the Jedi isn’t invincible. For all his power, General Plo can still die—and that can’t happen. The 104th would go adrift without him, so he must be protected at all costs. Wolffe takes up this extra burden in secret. He becomes vigilant, overprotective, strained, insular. He won't acknowledge it, but his spirit is staggering under the weight. “Mercy Mission” shows us a glimpse of this transformation: a man who’s bone-weary and so preoccupied with the status of his absent comrades that he has no patience or sympathy for the Aleena.

Maybe it was never in the cards for him, to be healthy and flourishing and secure. Maybe his path would've always led down a darker road than Sinker's despite experiencing the same profound kindness. It's such a shame, for if any clone needed a little hope, it's him. I'm halfway through his story now, the beginning of the end, and he's about to enter the darkest valley of his life.

[viaviavie]

SEEKING DREAMLIGHT | INTERLUDE 1

in which you return to twisted wonderland. welcome back home to the ramshackle dorm, or at least, what became of it in your absence. it certainly welcomes you back. the ghosts have never forgotten that young student that took so much care of this place. its current inhabitants swear you are one of those ghosts, and you are in a way. do not fret alice, wonderland has not truly forgotten you.

SUMMARY: based on disney’s dreamlight valley. years after the ramshackle prefect had left twisted wonderland, former students suddenly find themselves back in night raven college with missing memories and dreams of a magicless student they were supposed to know. an older prefect finally makes a return to a shell of the fantasy you once lived, falling in love once more with what was forgotten.

FEATURING: skully j. graves, ace trappola, deuce spade

NOTES: there actually wasn't going to be an interlude, but if i added heartlsabyul onto here, the pacing doesn't taste well.

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The very moment your feet takes a step outside the Room of Mirrors, this twisted world threatens to steal your breath for good. Heavy as Grim was, nothing could ever compared to how low your heart sank as you see nothing but thorns upon thorns. Much to your relief, it was nothing like shadows that a certain horned housewarden casted over the island. This was something different.

There was no overlooking sense of death this time. Rather, there is only melancholy and emptiness, akin to the exploration of a lost ruin. Vines had overgrown past the concrete and construction, almost swallowing every building hole in its wake. As you walk past the stone pathway, you could only hold your breath as you glance at the Great Seven.

Once polished and prim, now obscured with moss and rust.

Still, you carry on as the direbeast purrs against your neck. It almost astounds you how calm Grim has become. Memories of that hotheaded cat-like beast still runs fresh through your mind, and this is that very same beast on your shoulders. You wonder if he carries the same longing and sadness as you. Grim is a bigger now, more beast-like than feline if anything. Even so, he controls the fire burning from his ears, warming you lovingly as he had so long ago.

And you stare at what remains of the Ramshackle Dorm, seemingly unchanged compared to the rest of this world.

"You actually remember the way home, Henchman." Grim murmured, slitted eyes fixated on the old wooden door. It surprises you to see it untouched by any thorns. The building just looks the same as it did in your faint memories, from its pathway to the creaky window of the bedroom you once lived in.

Welcome home, voices whisper and you don't miss the slight luminescent figures hiding in the chandelier.

You don't expect the door to open itself without resistance, and you don't question it. With furrowed brows, you press your cheek against the grey fur. "Dumb and Dumber, are they here?" You whisper, quietly shutting the entrance behind you. It is dark, save for the sunlight that had filtered its way in through dusty windows.

This wasn't right, you think to yourself as your hand brushes against a dusty side table. The old run-down Ramshackle Dorm, truly befitting of the name. Except, the last time you saw it, it appeared so brand new and taken care of.

You put an end to the thought, feeling a slight pang from your temples the more you forced yourself to remember.

Grim huffed, finally jumping off your shoulder and landing onto a nearby platform. "Somewhere. They're always here somewhere." You narrow your eyes as you follow the direbeast up the rickety stairway. Dumb and Dumber, who could they possibly be? You don't register the way your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, struggling to recall a memory. Once at the top of the stairs, your hand tightly grips the railing as you force yourself forward.

Grim pauses, turning around to look at you with worry. "Henchman? What's wrong?"

You don't remember a thing at all. Something was horribly wrong. You know what those two people meant to you, and yet, you cannot remember it at all. Your nails are unknowingly scraping at the wooden structure, and you crane over as fog begins to overtake your senses.

"Prefect, why?!"

A cry is torn from your throat as you felt a heavy weight knock you onto the floor. Grim scampers onto your torso, baring his teeth towards a shadow creeping up the stairs. "Henchman, get back!" He screeches, and you do not take a moment to rest when you clambered onto the balcony railing. Your eyes are trained onto the stairway as a inky blotted shadow slowly approaches.

Blue flames breath out of Grim's jaws as he growls at the abomination, and you could only stare in awe at the large flames he can spit out. You recall how small those fire orbs were in the past, but now, they can even compare to a true mage's spell.

Alas, the blot does not respond even as it takes damage. It continues to crawl, ignoring the direbeast and only moving closer and closer to you. A hand-like figure is outstretched towards you, and you swear that you can hear it screaming your name.

That was all that took to make you run. Grim is hot on your trail as you make a sprint down the hallway. It is all slowly coming back to you, these halls that you once lived in. The shadow continues to wail, but it lacks the speed to truly catch you. Floors whine and creak with each step you take, and it ceases when you reach a dead end.

All that is left to you is a rusted book resting on a table top and a vase. None of these rooms will not help you, only delay the inevitable. Grim lowers himself onto the floor, ready to pounce onto that blotted monster that had now resorted to pulling itself on the carpet.

"PREFECT."

You choke back a scream of your own as your hand impulsively latched onto the book, throwing it onto the blot to no avail. The book only phases through the monster, and your back is now pressed against the corner. Grim yells at you, but you cannot register his words anymore. Instead, your breath is held in your chest as you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping to wake up from this horrid nightmare.

—but the light that glimmered behind the shadow forces your eyes open, followed by a long gloved hand smiting through the monster. It wails, melting into an unrecognizable shape until it is cut in half once more. Your knees buckle as Grim shields you, nails buried onto the rough fabric of the carpet as the blotted monster is reduced to nothing.

In its place was a man with long legs, donned in a suit that never seems to meet its end. Perhaps if he stood at full length, the tuft of his hair could barely brush against the ceiling. His head was cast down, but you don't miss that grin that seems to be missing a tooth. He breaths out a dry laugh, brushing away the inky that seems to have splattered on his dark gloved hands.

He frightens you, and he knew it.

"Oh my! Did I scare you?" The stranger smiles, eyes obscured by the round shades that he wore. Your breath is stolen away as he takes a step forward, and Grim growls so quietly that you swear he is more lion than cat. The direbeast does not deter the long-legged man who had stretched out his hand for you to take.

Maybe it was the haze of exhaustion that suddenly took over you, or your poor judgement, but you find yourself lacing your digits onto his own, dragging your body up. The stranger grins, looking down on you as he bows slightly, pressing your knuckles against his cold chapped lips.

"Who are you?"

And the man's grin falters for a moment, only to be replaced by a content smile. He scares you, but you do not fear him.

"Skully J. Graves," He purrs, pressing his cheek against the warmth of your hand. "How I missed you, my dear."

Skully follows you like your own shadow, except he makes your true shadow appear taller than it should. You do not question his sudden attachment, nor do you address the slight discomfort you feel when he hovers over you as a lamp would while you read.

Grim is suspicious, and he had every right to be when the fellow claims to have met you in a distant past. It doesn't raise a flag for you, however, considering that you can't even recall the faces of those you promised to remember. Skully was the one who saved your life as well, and he didn't seem to have any ill intent at all.

You halt your steps as your eyes are trained onto a familiar door. You remember now as the flickers of a smaller direbeast rampaging through that door replays itself in your mind.

You do not recall ice encasing the doorknob which had been obscured with thorns. Barely brushing your fingertips over the cold substance, you hiss at the sensation.

"Can you melt the ice, Grim?" You ask, only to be replied with an upset whine. "No can do, Henchman. This doesn't look like ordinary ice." Grim's tail curls itself around your leg, tilting his nose up at the frozen doorknob. It drips, trailing from crystalline ice down into an inky puddle. "It's melting ink!" The direbeast hissed, and you shift slightly as the taller man crouched down.

Skully hummed, eyeing the obstacle with piqued curiosity. "How peculiar. The ice is infused with some sort of magic." He muttered, tilting his glasses down so his amber eyes lock onto your worried gaze. He takes a gloved hand to dip at the puddle of blot, much like a child would. "I suppose you will need someone who specializes in fire spells."

You sigh, rubbing the back of your neck. You can't imagine that Grim could melt it, and if Skully knew how to, he would have certainly done it by now. "We can come back to this later. I'm sure we can figure this out, somehow." You tell them, crossing your arms. A hand trails over your chin, and you knit your eyebrows in frustration. "But who did this?" The possibility of another person in this world is not lost to you, but the motive is clouded with mystery.

The tall man shrugged, a smile dancing across his dry lips. "I'd imagine someone didn't want that door opened." Your body does not stiffen as he dances his finger tips onto your shoulder, leaning closely into your ear like a tempting devil. "It leaves plenty to the imagination, don't you think?" Your nose crinkles, and Skully chuckles at your plight.

"What could the perpetrator possibly be hiding? A love letter? A dangerous weapon? A body?" Lips twisting into a frown, you whip your head to the side. "Skully!" You whine, all too uncomfortable with the idea of a corpse being on the other side of the door. The skeleton-like man grins, hands in the air as if he were innocent of a crime. "So many possibilities!"

You never even noticed that Grim had long departed from your side, not until you hear footsteps from the first floor.

Grim's voice is echoing and bouncing off the walls. "I'm telling you, the Prefect is here!" He cried out. "Quit your yapping! I heard you the first time!" Your eyes widened, ears registering that familiar voice. You can't even realize that your lips had suddenly curled up into a strained smile, flooded by a hazy memory of mischief. "Grim..." Blue. That voice is blue, and it sounds like clumsy yet gentle hands.

Your legs carry you to the stairway, and

"—tried using every key I could find. Even tried to pick the lock, but it wouldn't budge." Grim yowls in frustration, followed by another man's sigh. "We can try again later."

"Are you not listening to me?!"

You barely catch a glimpse of red hair, and there are two men at the bottom of the stairs. Seeing the standard Night Raven College Uniform seems so uncanny on them, not when their faces had long outgrown their youth. You know them now, and your heart finally stills.

The redhead runs a frustrated hand through his hair, turning around as the direbeast cries for attention. "Grim, look. We'll check the Prefect thing out after a nap, so calm do—" Finally, he sees you at the top of the stairs, along with your wide-eyed expression that had long wormed its way into his heart so long ago.

He looks upon you as if you came from a distant dream.

"Ace," It is your uncertain voice that catches his companion's attention. Quickly now, the dark haired man looks upwards and gasps. That dumbfounded look of his only served to coax a nervous yet warm laugh from you. "Deuce." You whisper, a hand creeping up to your mouth to conceal the way you threaten to cry on the spot.

You remember now—

"Prefect." Ace breathes out, unwilling to believe it is a ghost that called out his name.

"Prefect!" Deuce cried, relief evident in his voice as he rushes up the stairs with reckless steps.

—and so do they.

Unbeknownst to you, the key glows softly within your pocket.

TAGLIST: @jjsmeowthie @deviious @hellfirestarter @thatpersonuouknow @knorreine @nerenda @goths4gambit @ghostlysyntaxed @minkyungseokie @daeda21 @red1sg0n3 @hatsumekannazuki @driftaway27 @alienlatteinspace @michtellch @loyalkatniss

[hanafubukki]

Excerpt: Tomorrow, tomorrow Malleus would return home. Without him. Lilia had planned to never return to Briar Valley. Now, he never would. His home lost forever. 

He sent them away. 

Two knights, haggard and stalwart, reluctant to leave. 

Lilia understood. 

They have sworn their life and fealty to Malleus Draconia.

Their care for him extended even beyond something as simple as duty and loyalty, 

But they needed their rest.

The journey tomorrow would be a taxing one. They’d need all the rest they could get. 

After tomorrow’s journey’s end, there would be no more knighthood for the two. They would need to look for a new path. Their chosen path too painful to continue now.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, Malleus will take his final journey home. Without him. Lilia had planned to never return to Briar Valley. Now, he never would. His home lost forever.

Malleus Draconia would be returning home in a coffin carried by his two knights. 

A coffin Lillia himself put together. Made with glass and magic.

Engraving and weaving intricate designs through slightly shaken hands. 

Cushioned with the finest silk Lilia could find on such short notice. A pillow cushion made for horns for one to sleep comfortably. Given long ago. 

Not as fine as it could be as a prince deserves.

But Lilia didn’t see the reason why it should be. 

Malleus was just a boy. 

His boy.

He didn’t deserve to have his sleep cold and unfamiliar. 

He should be surrounded by that which he loves and made him comfortable.

And this was just that. 

Tomorrow. 

Malleus would return home.

Lilia would remain behind. 

It wasn’t shame or grief that stayed his hand. He would rather be quartered and shamed in front of all of Briar Valley for not protecting Malleus. 

He was simply too tired to make the journey. 

A truly cowardice move on his part.

He didn’t think he could watch them lower Malleus’ body into a special pit made for his burial; in a mausoleum made for past royalty without throwing himself into it to join him.

A Father couldn’t bury his own son. He didn’t have that strength in him. 

Trembling fingers wipes at stinging eyes. No, he can’t.

Not right now.

He doesn’t want his tears to mar Malleus.

He bathed Malleus with fragrances of evergreen and the sweetness of vetiver and oak moss.

He smelled like home.

Lilia has never prayed to a higher being before. 

Rarely believed in them.

Having seen what he had. War. Bloodshed. Death.

But he prays now.

Please 

Please.

It was too quiet. 

Bath time was never this quiet. 

Running after a spitfire. Once on four legs and then two. Stumbling. Always hating bath time.

It was loud. It tested Lilia’s speed even back then.

But they both adored it.

Lilia prays.

Please. 

It’s too quiet. 

His prayers go unheard. 

Lilia smooths the silk, tucking it close. He didn’t want him to be cold. Lilia moves the gifts lovingly given close to Malleus, knowing how he would have preferred to have them next to him.

Malleus is cold. Too cold.

He stares at the items before him:

Lilia remembers passing by Silver’s room a few days prior. Broken sobs muffled by the door. Lilia hesitated for a moment. Contemplating passing by, letting the boy deal with his grief. No. How could he? When it was restraints and buried feelings that led them all to this situation? 

When Lilia enters the room, it’s to a hunched back and shaking hands. The moon reflects silver strands but what stands out the most is the brown of acorns spread around. Lilia is quick to hug Silver and the boy breaks down in his arms. 

An acorn bracelet. 

To live a long and healthy life.

He remembers watching Sebek when the boy thought he was alone, chipping away at stone and wood.

Over and over.

At every chance he could.

Sebek had chosen to wrought a crest of his own design, to wish his lord happiness and reunion. For him to be surrounded by love.

Lilia watched him silently, supporting him from the shadows. 

Lilia’s eyes blurs as he lays a hand over the plush.

A gargoyle plush.

He had seen it during one of his travels. Had thought of Malleus right away.

Malleus loved gargoyles even from a young age. Lilia recalls the excitement he felt when he gave the young one his present.

Malleus’ smile had been worth it. His smile bright as he hugged the plush close to him until Lilia had called it a gargoyle, then he had pouted and called it a grotesque because, “It had no use.”

Lilia remembers the laugh he gave out then, “Of course it has a purpose, it’s to protect you when I’m not around. He’ll protect you until I arrive, be it from your dreams or anyone until I arrive.”

Malleus had smiled wide with fangs then, cheeks slightly red with childlike joy as he hugged Lilia.

Lilia had thought Malleus had outgrown it. Having not seen it for decades.

What a surprise it had been to find it on his bed. When he had finally, finally, taken the courage to enter his room.

A frail and old thing. Mended over and over. With stitches uneven to expertly sewn. From the nimble hands of a child to that of an adult.

Lilia recalls breaking down right then and there. Clutching the plush to his chest. Rocking back and forth as if he held a child.

His boy. His boy. Where is he now? Why won’t he awaken? Why won’t he answer?

The scent of evergreen was still fresh from where he had buried his head. A plush still in use. Lilia cried til his voice was hoarse.

A journey’s end. 

His end.

Never again would he see that smirk 

Nor calm a storm's anger 

Never again would he be able to pat midnight strands as they looked upon him with fondness.

Never again would he be able to say-

I love you 

Lilia's knees hit the floor.

I love you.

Lilia gasped. 

His breathing coming quicker, uneven. 

Malleus knew.

He had to know.

Right? 

“The Senate! Even Grandmother lied!”

No. Malleus had to have known.

“What dream would you like, Lilia? One with mother and father? One where you live happily with Silver?”

Frame shaking. 

No. 

Did he never say? 

Hands clawed into his face.

No. No. No!

He must have.

He never did.

Lilia dragged his body up, heavier than ever before.

Ignoring the stinging from the cuts he made.

Please.

Body barely holding himself over the one in eternal sleep.

A hand gently cupping a too-cold cheek.

Lilia prays.

The Great Seven.

The Thorn Fairy.

Any Powers That Be.

Please let him hear these words now.

It's too late.

It's too late.

Lilia grits his teeth against the wobble of incoming grief.

Please.

I beg of you.

Let him hear me.

"I love you."

Words spoken in a cracked voice.

"I love you, Malleus."

Lilia sobbed, clutching at the robe beneath him.

Don't take him aw-

"I love you too, Lilia."

He froze.

His heart stopped, and the very blood in his veins froze, but it was the hand on his own that had his gaze shooting up.

Soft green stares back at him as tears fall from one freshly awoken.

A desperate cry with a flurry of movement.

Hands desperately clutching and pulling Malleus to his chest. Ignoring and uncaring of the damage he caused to fine silk clothes.

His Heart.

His Heart Returned.

A wail vibrated the walls alerting the heavens high above.

A sound unheard of for centuries.

True Love brought back a Son to His Father.

Happy 1 Year Anniversary to Baby Malleus hatching and to the love that changed Lilia Vanrouge forever. You both worked so hard and I’m so proud of you two. I love them both so much. True Love My Beloveds. 😭🥳💞

I’ve been working on this project for about a few months on and off (it was fighting me as much as I was fighting it; while half the time sick lolol) 😂😆. It’s a project that I was very passionate about, so I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I loved writing it. This fic started because of the need, the need damnit, I have of Lilia and Malleus to say “I love you” to each other verbally. You know what they say, make your own wishes come true.☺️🥰💞

Shout out to my beta reader, @world-of-hearts, Amy for beta reading this and all the feedback/ideas she indulges me with when I go to her for opinions. Some of these scenes (like Sebek’s gift) were influenced by our talks and picking at each other brains.💕🫶💚🫂

There are deleted scenes, commentary, and some fun facts that I included below that I hope you guys will like 💕🫶 (I haven’t had a fic with deleted scenes, etc. in such a long while, so you know I was going all out with my battle with this story lolol). I am rambling too much lolol. I'm just excited to share this piece. 🌺💕💚

Thank you so much for reading. ☺️🙏💚

Deleted Scenes:

Silver’s Acorn Bracelet:

Lilia shakes and recalls words that would be branded in his mind forever. 

“It was a gift that even Malleus was jealous of.”

“You always asked me if I was envious. What if I am?”

He would have been, wouldn’t he and Lilia was blind to it all. 

An acorn bracelet that could grant long life let alone bring back a loved one. 

A gift given out of love.

A gift that would never have the chance to do as intended. 

(AN: I didn’t keep this scene because I didn’t want the gifts to be ‘useless’ nor did I want the scenes to get to depressing. Because these gifts are given out of love and thought, it wouldn’t feel right for their feelings to reflect bitterness and what could have beens.

And yes if that line, “You always asked me if I was envious. What if I am?” Seemed familiar, it is. It’s from this fic. You can technically think of this fic as a sequel to that one if you want.)

Sebek’s Gargoyle Gift:

Something from Sebek, he had seen Sebek toil away at tools and books during the few times he was relieved of his watch. Chipping at stone till hands are raw and grazed with cuts. Gargoyles. Sebek had chosen to put gargoyles. Something Malleus adored. Gargoyles. Ones who are feared and misunderstood but also strong and protectors. Just like Malleus. Lilia had offered to hang the gargoyles by the sides of the coffin, but Sebek refused. 

He wanted them with his liege, so he wouldn’t be lonely.  Gargoyle who became a grotesque. Purposeless and just for show. Just like him. 

(AN: The same reasoning as Silver’s this was taken out. I didn’t want a gift that given out of love to be seen so negatively even by the characters. After all, it was their last gift to their liege and someone they loved.)

Lilia’s Rose:

His vision blurs as he looks at the flower placed right next to Malleus’s head

A dried-up flower from Malleus-a memory Lilia revisits, magic low, only glimpses of a prideful yet shy smile, presenting him with a rose he had grown. Some petals singed from excitement, but shyly given.

Lilia had kept that flower, preserved it with magic; when his magic started fading so did the spell on the rose but he kept it safe and loved all the same.

(AN: I took this out because Malleus wouldn’t want Lilia to return his flower to him. Young Malleus gave it to him out of love for Lilia. Malleus would want Lilia to keep it and likewise, Lilia wouldn’t be able to part with it. It’s precious to him, just like the Acorn bracelet is.)

Malleus's Hug:

Malleus holding him just as tight, cries muffled against a shoulder that had felt big when he was younger but small to him now.

(AN: I did initially describe Malleus returning the hug but then took it out. This whole story was in Lilia’s POV and I wanted it to stay that way. It felt as if I was breaking the narrative a bit by switching and I didn’t want that. It started with Lilia and ended with Lilia.)

Fun Facts:

Malleus’ Scent

Vetiver, Oak Moss, and Evergreen are the scents described in Malleus’ Valentines 2024 room fragrance. It smells like the forest and while strong, it’s also has gentle tones. It smells like home to Lilia because it’s smells like the forest surrounding the cottage. The woods that protect his home and also the very lands Lilia has always known and grew up on.

It smells like home because it smells like Malleus since he was small to how he’s grown now. To Malleus, Briar Valley has always been his home; but most of all, it was that cottage that he felt the most comfortable and free.

You can read more about the scents and their details here

Lilia’s Heart = Malleus

There’s this special analysis that I will write based on this that I’m really looking forward to releasing. But essentially, as a preview for you all, it’s how Malleus is the reflection of Lilia’s heart. He is Lilia’s heart. Malleus, who is the reason why Lilia finally manifested his UM, is also the reflection of his soul.

You can kind of get the idea of what I mean UM wise through this fic. (Which you can also think of this fic as a sequel to if you choose.)

The Bathing Scene

The bathing scene is inspired from my culture. We bathe our dead loved ones and then wrap them in cloth. Of course in this, Malleus wasn’t wrapped in cloth but he was bathed by a loved one. In my culture, only those close to the one who passed away/family can do this ritual. During this bath, you’re not allowed to cry because that would take away “the purity” of the bath. So that’s why Lilia didn’t allow any of his tears to fall or touch Malleus.

I thought it was very fitting and a perfect way for Lilia to reflect his grief/cherished memories to show. When else would you wish for your prayers to come true the most? Except at this most vulnerable time?

Strikethroughs Texts

I don’t normally use too many strikethrough texts in my fics because I worry if it’s readable/hard to read for the audience. But for this fic, I made an exception.

I felt for Lilia and the story it was needed. My thought process was that the strikethrough texts was a part of Lilia that was keeping him together. A part of him that was in denial but also that part that is the last bit of strength and that inner voice in your head.

I don’t know if I’m explaining it well but when Lilia says, “I love you.” You’ll see the strikethrough texts are gone from then on. In this way, it shows he’s overcome that last bit that held him back. He was finally able to express himself and his love fully which leads to Malleus waking up from his True Love.

“Lilia’s knees hit the floor.”

This was the first scene written and literally everything came after. I had nothing else planned besides this line. This scene was the start. Something about the shock and impact of Lilia falling to his knees in realization. It just…it hits you? You know? Because it’s Lilia. And eventually, I was able to find the right ending to continue from there/end the story. It really is about trusting the process.

[btsfests]

𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔩𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔰 𝔣𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

Yea, though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we will fear no evil: for these stories art with us. Let our prophets share their written word with you, and may you find yourself peeking into Heaven or Hell!

Fables coming your way January - February

♡ Title: After Dark ♡ Pairing: Ceberus! Maknae Line x Demon! Reader ♡ Rating: 18+ ♡ Genre: Fantasy, Drama/Angst, Smut ♡ Summary: Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin are your guard dogs, willing to do anything for you. You run an elite casino within the human world, disguised as a human, but you can only get in if you've been invited. Seokjin and Hoseok have been thorns in your side for years, witches hellbent on sending you back to the afterlife.

As scripted by @jmvore

♡ Title: Carry It With You ♡ Pairing: Human!Taehyung x Guardian Angel!Jimin ♡ Rating: 18+ ♡ Genre: Fantasy, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health, Angst, Smut, Fluff ♡ Summary: Broken beyond repair, Taehyung is convinced that the Heavens have forsaken him. It’s Jimin’s responsibility to show Taehyung that there really is someone out there who cares.

As scripted by @gimmethatagustd

♡ Title: Celestial Ruin ♡ Pairing: Fallen Angel!Yoongi x Angel!(f)reader x Angel!Namjoon ♡ Rating: 18+ | Dead Dove ♡ Genre: Fantasy, Supernatural, Angels and Demons, Angst, Smut, Corruption ♡ Summary: Just being in his proximity made my skin crawl. As if his tainted wings were contagious and I was putting myself at risk just being near him. Yoongi was corruption incarnate. Once revered upon his throne and now cast aside for the sins he committed. Inky wings replacing the beautiful gold they used to be. The sign of the Fallen. And the way he looked at me said he wouldn't be sinking alone.

As scripted by @remedyx

Read Now

♡ Title: Cursed ♡ Pairing: Demon reader x new demon Namjoon ♡ Rating: 18+ ♡ Genre: supernatural, crack, smut ♡ Summary: You manage to royally piss off demon lord Seokjin and he punishes you by giving you the assignment no one wants - shaping hapless IT guy Kim Namjoon into a freaky deaky demon.

As scripted by @hamsterclaw

♡ Title: Did It Hurt? ♡ Pairing: FallenAngel!Taehyung x LostSoul!f.Reader ♡ Rating: MA ♡ Genre: Fallen Angel AU | Angst, Smut, Mild Fluff ♡ Summary: Cast from the Heavens and forced onto the mortal plane for breaking his Oath of Holy Divinity, Taehyung only has one way to regain his wings after his exile is up or forever be cast into the 9th Circle—save a lost soul seeking absolution. As his one-hundredth year in exile approaches, his desire to return starts to wane and the kiss of Hellfire grows nearer.

As scripted by @colormepurplex2

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♡ Title: Fall from Grace ♡ Pairing: Demon!Seokjin x Angel!Jimin ♡ Rating: 18+ ♡ Genre: Romance, Smut, betrayal ♡ Summary: The rules for angels and demons are simple and straightforward and can be summed up as don’t interact. It’s not Jin’s fault that he’s mistaken for an angel.

As scripted by @downbad4yoongi

Read Now

♡ Title: Help! An Angel has Fallen and She Can't Get Back Up! ♡ Pairing: Human!Namjoon x Angel!Reader ♡ Rating: 18+ ♡ Genre: Idiots to lovers, angel summoning, fluff, humor, smut, crack ♡ Summary: Namjoon is satisfied with his life. He has great friends, a promising career, and feels confident he can face any challenge the future may bring. However, when he accidentally summons an angel while doing his dishes, he realizes he might be in over his head.

As scripted by @blog-name-idk

♡ Title: Lead Us Into Temptation ♡ Pairing: Demon!Hoseok x Human!Reader ♡ Rating: 21+ ♡ Genre: established relationship, demon possession, corruption, speculative horror, fluff, angst, smut ♡ Summary: Hoseok is as devout in his faith as he is dedicated to you, and the two of you live by a moral code of remaining pure and perfect – free from sin and temptation. But after Hoseok is stricken with a strange illness that changes him entirely, you wonder if the life you had before is truly the life you desire.

As scripted by @theharrowing

♡ Title: Mist of Chaos ♡ Pairing: Demon!Yoongi / Angel!Taehyung x f! Reader ♡ Rating: 18+ ♡ Genre: Supernatural, Demons, Angels, Angst, Smut. ♡ Summary: The tales told in the night, that 'it is hard to find the light'. You learn that what you see isn't always quite right. You find yourself soul-torn in a mystic valley after an unexpected incident. Alone, however, you were not as an angel and demon cling your shoulders.

As scripted by @taegicity

♡ Title: Reborn In Sin ♡ Pairing: demon!jimin x fem!reader ♡ Rating: 18+ ♡ Genre: dark, supernatural, fantasy, angst, smut ♡ Summary: for years jimin was your constant and loyal companion in the church, he was a shining example of humility and compassion. but when he was tragically taken from the world before he could experience life, his heart was filled with anger and resentment. and so, in a moment of weakness, he struck a deal with the devil, trading his soul for a second chance at life. but when he returned, he was no longer your kind and devoted boy you once knew.

As scripted by @hoseokshobagi

♡ Title: Shadow of Mine ♡ Pairing: Demon!Taehyung x f. Reader ♡ Rating: 18+ ♡ Genre: Supernatural, Angels and Demons, Angst, Smut ♡ Summary: As one of the few humans in the world without a guardian angel to protect you, you’ve learned to take care of yourself - until you realize that perhaps you haven’t been as alone as you always thought.

As scripted by @sailoryooons

♡ Title: Talk to My Angels ♡ Pairing: human!taehyung and angel!reader, platonic ♡ Rating: 18+ ♡ Genre: Fantasy, humor i hope?, angst ♡ Summary: What should Taehyung pick for breakfast? Which shoes should he wear today? Should he accept the job or look for something better? No matter the significance, Taehyung always turns to his angels for answers. So when he finds you - a real-life angel - the surprise isn't that he can see you or that he accepts your existence. The surprise is that he makes it his mission to send you back where you belong.

As scripted by @daechwitatamic

♡ Title: The End Of All Things ♡ Pairing: Fallen Angel!Jungkook x Human!Namjoon, (Past Taekook) ♡ Rating: 18+ ♡ Genre: Fantasy, Alternate Universe — Angels & Demons, Slow Burn ♡ Summary: He moved with a silent sort of rage that could be felt in the air. There was no mistaking what he was at this moment, entirely unearthly and terrifying. It wouldn't surprise Namjoon if the very ground broke under his feet, Jungkook's very being screaming, look at what I've become, look what you have made me.

He made his way through the crowd, cutting down his foes with precision because he did not move in unblinded rage, — it was grief.

or a story about what it really means to be human.

As scripted by @jknoah

♡ Title: Touch of Hell ♡ Pairing: Devils son!Jimin x m!reader ♡ Rating: 18+ ♡ Genre: Fantasy, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort ♡ Summary: Finding himself exiled to the human world by his own father — the Devil himself, Jimin is stuck in a dilemma. Will the boy who stole his heart love him forever, or will he push him away after he finds out the monster he is ?

As scripted by @leohatter

♡ Title: Wish ♡ Pairing: Angel!Jungkook x Human!Reader; background Angel!Jin x Demon!Jimin ♡ Rating: PG-13 ♡ Genre: Fantasy, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn ♡ Summary: When Jungkook's mentor goes missing, he travels to earth in search of him and when he gets into a spot of trouble, a kind human helps him out. Determined to pay them back Jungkook insists on granting a wish but…

How do you grant a wish for someone who doesn't have one?

As scripted by @madbutgloriouspond

[mirisss]

Tainted Love

Vampire Choi Beomgyu x human reader

Warnings: Blood, death, mentions of being chased, I think that’s it, let me know if I’ve missed anything!

Wordcount ≈ 8.5k

Another Halloween special! I hope you guys enjoy it!

Please reblog!

Third Person POV

Beomgyu was not just any vampire; he was the Vampire King, a title that weighed heavily on his shoulders. Born into the oldest generation of vampires, he inherited not only their timeless beauty but also their immense power and ancient wisdom. His castle, perched high on a desolate cliff, loomed over the fog-covered valleys below, its spires piercing the night sky. The moonlight bathed the stone walls in an ethereal glow, casting long shadows that seemed to dance around him as he stood alone in the grand hall.

Though his features were captivating—skin like alabaster, eyes a mesmerizing shade of crimson, and hair as dark as the night—Beomgyu often felt like a ghost haunting his own home. The grand ballroom, once filled with laughter and music, now echoed with silence, each empty corner a reminder of the life he could never truly embrace. For centuries, he had lived in this splendid prison, surrounded by opulence yet suffocated by an overwhelming sense of solitude. He had watched the world change from the tall windows of his castle, observing the fleeting lives of humans with a mixture of longing and despair.

A dark curse hung over him like a storm cloud, one that had been placed upon him in the early days of his reign. It had come from a rival who was jealous of his power—a sorcerer whose heart was as black as the magic he wielded. The curse decreed that anyone Beomgyu dared to love would meet a tragic end at his own hands, a fate he could not bear to inflict upon another. It was a tormenting paradox; the more he craved connection, the more he felt the icy grip of isolation. Every day, he awoke to the chilling truth that his heart was bound by chains of his own making.

For decades, he had resisted the allure of companionship, distancing himself from the fleeting relationships that could lead to heartbreak. He would watch from the shadows as couples strolled through moonlit gardens, their laughter ringing like sweet chimes in the night air. Each joyous moment only deepened his own sorrow. He had nearly convinced himself that he was content with his solitude, filling his time with the ancient texts and scrolls that chronicled the history of his kind. Yet, within him lay a simmering yearning for love, for someone who could see past the legend of the Vampire King and into the depths of his soul.

The loneliness gnawed at him like a relentless predator, whispering in his ear as he wandered through the dimly lit corridors of his castle. At night, he would often find himself standing at the edge of the balcony, staring out at the vast expanse of the world beyond. The stars twinkled like distant memories, each one a reminder of what could have been if he had only dared to break free from the shackles of his past. He could feel the warmth of the sun on his skin as he imagined a life where he could laugh, love, and be loved without fear of destruction.

Yet, the curse loomed larger than life, a shadow that clung to him and darkened every hopeful thought. Beomgyu understood that to love would mean to embrace the danger of loss, and so he remained in the fortress of his heart, alone yet alive through the stories of those around him. He had made peace with the idea that perhaps he was meant to be the guardian of love, rather than a participant in it, destined to watch over the joys of others from afar.

As the centuries dragged on, the castle stood as a monument to his isolation, a beautiful but haunting reminder of a life unlived. But in the quiet moments, as the night deepened and the stars shone brightly, Beomgyu would still whisper into the darkness, a silent prayer for someone who might one day break the curse—someone who could see the man behind the monster and dare to love him despite the risks. The longing in his heart remained, an ember waiting to ignite, and he held onto the hope that perhaps, one day, love would find a way to conquer even the most ancient of curses.

One particular night, as the moon hung low in the sky, its hue a deep, blood-red that cast an eerie glow across the landscape, Beomgyu found himself wandering the dense woods surrounding his castle. The trees loomed overhead like ancient sentinels, their gnarled branches twisting and reaching toward the heavens. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, a reminder of the autumn chill that had settled over the realm. This night felt different; there was a strange tension in the air, as if the world itself was holding its breath.

As he meandered along a narrow path, lost in thoughts of his eternal solitude, Beomgyu suddenly caught sight of something unusual among the underbrush. A figure lay motionless on the ground, half-hidden by a tangle of brambles and mud. His heart quickened with an unfamiliar sense of urgency as he approached. When he drew closer, he could see that it was a woman, her once vibrant clothing now soaked and torn, clinging to her skin like a second layer. Her long hair was matted and filthy, strewn across her face and the earth beneath her.

Despite the monstrous reputation that surrounded him, Beomgyu’s heart was as gentle as a butterfly flitting from flower to flower. The sight of her, vulnerable and alone, stirred something deep within him—a longing to protect rather than harm. He knelt beside her, his hands trembling slightly as he brushed a few strands of hair away from her pale face. He could feel the warmth of her skin, the faint rhythm of her pulse, and it sent a wave of relief flooding through him. She was alive, but barely.

With an instinct born of centuries of solitude and the desire to nurture, Beomgyu carefully scooped her up in his arms, cradling her against his chest. As he stood, the night enveloped them both, the shadows whispering around him as if aware of the fragile life he now held. He could feel her heartbeat against him, a steady reminder that she was still with him, and he vowed to do everything in his power to keep her safe.

He hurried back to his castle, his long cloak billowing behind him like a dark cloud. The path was familiar yet felt foreign in this moment; he had walked it countless times alone, but now it pulsed with the promise of connection. Upon reaching the castle, he carried her into the grand hall, the flickering candlelight casting warm glows across the ancient stone walls. He laid her gently on a lavish velvet settee, surrounded by rich tapestries and ornate furniture that seemed to sigh in the presence of a new soul.

Beomgyu moved quickly, his instincts kicking in as he prepared to help her. He retrieved warm blankets from his chambers and draped them over her shivering form, taking care to ensure she was comfortable. He filled a goblet with warm herbal tea, hoping it might revive her, and knelt beside her, watching over her as the night deepened. The blood-red moon filtered through the tall windows, casting a haunting glow over the room.

As he waited, he couldn’t help but wonder who she was and how she had come to be in such a dire state. What dangers had she faced that led her to this moment? The questions swirled in his mind, but they were overshadowed by a growing sense of protectiveness. For so long, he had watched from the shadows, observing the fleeting joys of others but never participating. Now, with this woman resting before him, he felt a flicker of hope that perhaps fate had smiled upon him.

Time stretched, and just as the clock struck midnight, she stirred. Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing bright, stormy eyes that widened in surprise as she took in her surroundings. Beomgyu held his breath, a mixture of hope and fear flooding his senses. He remained silent, giving her the space to gather herself, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Where am I?” she whispered, her voice hoarse yet melodic, echoing through the grand hall like a sweet song.

“You are safe,” Beomgyu replied softly, his voice a gentle murmur that seemed to soothe the air between them. “You are in my castle. I found you in the woods, unconscious and alone.”

Her gaze drifted over him, taking in the ethereal beauty that radiated from his being. For a moment, she seemed lost in thought, processing the surreal reality of her situation. “I thought… I thought I was done for,” she murmured, a flicker of gratitude passing through her eyes.

Beomgyu felt warmth blossom in his chest at her words, an unfamiliar sensation that he had long since forgotten. “I will ensure you are well cared for,” he promised, though a shadow of uncertainty loomed in his heart. Could he allow himself to grow close to her, knowing the curse that bound him?

As she shifted to sit up, the blankets falling away, Beomgyu quickly stepped forward, offering her his hand. “You should rest. I will bring you something to eat, and when you feel ready, I can help you find your way home.”

For a fleeting moment, their eyes locked, and in that shared gaze, he felt a connection that defied logic—a bond forged in the quiet understanding of two souls who had encountered darkness. Perhaps, just perhaps, she was the light he had been yearning for all along, a beacon of hope in his eternal night. As he turned to leave the room, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this encounter would change the course of his life, drawing him ever closer to the love he had thought was forever beyond his reach.

When Beomgyu returned with a tray of warm food and a steaming cup of herbal tea, he found Y/n sitting up, her expression a mixture of confusion and wariness. He set the tray down on the ornate table beside her and took a seat across from her, careful to maintain a distance that respected her space while still conveying his presence.

“May I ask your name?” he inquired, his voice soft and inviting, hoping to ease her anxiety.

“Y/n,” she replied, her voice still a bit shaky but gaining strength. She offered a tentative smile, and Beomgyu felt a rush of warmth at the sight. “And you…?”

“I am Beomgyu,” he said, inclining his head slightly in a gesture of respect. “The king of this castle.” The weight of his title hung in the air, but he delivered it with humility, not wanting to overwhelm her. “I found you in the woods. Can you tell me how you came to be there, alone and unconscious?”

Y/n hesitated for a moment, her brow furrowing as memories flooded back. “I was…” she began, her voice trailing off as she searched for the right words. “I was being chased. I don’t know who it was or why, but they were after me.” Her hands trembled slightly as she recalled the fear that had gripped her heart. “I ran as fast as I could, but I fell into a lake and got soaked. Then, when I tried to escape, I ran straight into thorns and branches.”

She paused, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I was terrified, and I just… I couldn’t go on. Eventually, I collapsed from fear and exhaustion.”

Beomgyu listened intently, his heart aching for the pain and terror she had experienced. “You were incredibly brave to escape at all,” he said gently, wanting to offer her some comfort. “To face that kind of fear and still keep moving… it takes strength.”

Y/n looked up at him, a mixture of gratitude and disbelief in her eyes. “Thank you, but I don’t feel very brave,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I was running for my life.”

He nodded, understanding all too well the weight of fear. “You are safe now,” he reassured her, wishing he could take away all the pain she had endured. “No one can reach you here.”

As she sipped her tea, the warmth spreading through her body brought a sense of comfort that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Beomgyu watched her closely, noting the way the tension in her shoulders seemed to ease with each passing moment. He wanted to know more about her, to understand the depth of her spirit, but he was also keenly aware of the shadows lurking in the corners of his own existence.

“Do you have somewhere to go?” he asked, his voice low and careful, aware of the vulnerability in her situation. “Friends or family who might be looking for you?”

She looked down at her hands, tracing the lines of her fingers as she considered his question. “I… I had friends in the village, but after what happened tonight, I don’t know if I can go back. I don’t know if I can trust anyone anymore.” Her voice quivered, the hurt of betrayal evident in her tone.

Beomgyu felt a pang of sympathy. “You can stay here as long as you need,” he offered, the words spilling from his heart without hesitation. “This castle may be lonely, but it can be a refuge, a place where you can heal.”

She looked up at him, surprise flickering in her stormy eyes. “You would do that for me? A stranger?”

“Yes,” he said earnestly. “For now, I would like to help you. I want you to feel safe again.” The sincerity in his voice was unmistakable, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a glimmer of hope stirring within him. Perhaps this woman was meant to be part of his story—a bright light in the darkness that had shrouded his existence for so long.

Y/n studied his face, searching for any sign of deceit, but all she found was kindness and an unwavering resolve. There was something about Beomgyu that made her feel drawn to him, a connection that went beyond the circumstances of their meeting. Slowly, she nodded, a tentative smile breaking through the remnants of her fear. “Thank you, Beomgyu. I’d like that.”

In that moment, the barriers that had kept Beomgyu confined within his lonely castle began to crack, allowing the possibility of companionship to seep through. With every word shared, he felt the weight of his curse lift, if only slightly. Perhaps, just perhaps, love could find its way back into his life, wrapped in the fragile form of a woman who had weathered her own storm. And as they shared their stories beneath the watchful gaze of the blood-red moon, both Y/n and Beomgyu sensed the dawn of something beautiful, a new beginning crafted from the remnants of their pasts.

Beomgyu rose from his seat with a newfound sense of purpose, determined to make Y/n’s stay in his castle more comfortable. As he left the room, he couldn’t shake the feeling of warmth that had blossomed in his chest. She was no longer just a stranger; she was someone he wanted to protect, to cherish, and he felt compelled to do right by her.

He wandered through the winding halls of the castle, each step echoing against the cold stone walls. Memories of grand balls and laughter filled his mind as he made his way to the storeroom where his mother’s belongings were kept. The castle, once a place of merriment, had become a tomb of solitude, and he wanted to reclaim a piece of that joy for Y/n.

As he entered the room, dust motes danced in the beams of moonlight filtering through the tall windows. Beomgyu scanned the rows of old trunks and forgotten treasures, his heart heavy with nostalgia. He opened a large chest, revealing a collection of exquisite gowns that had once belonged to his mother—each dress a vibrant testament to her elegance and grace. Though they had long since fallen out of fashion, the gowns remained beautiful, their rich fabrics and intricate embroidery telling stories of grand celebrations and heartfelt moments.

He selected a soft, flowing gown made of deep sapphire silk, the color reminiscent of twilight skies. It had delicate lace sleeves and a fitted bodice that flared out gently at the waist, its beauty nearly breathtaking. The fabric shimmered even in the dim light, and Beomgyu felt a twinge of guilt for not having found her something more modern, but he hoped the dress would be better than the wet, thorn-ripped garments she had worn.

As he held the gown up, he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of how Y/n would look in it. Her bright eyes would shine against the fabric, and the gown would lend her an air of grace and strength.

After searching through a few more trunks, Beomgyu also found a simple cloak made of soft wool, its deep emerald hue a perfect complement to the dress. It would provide her warmth and modesty, and he believed it would suit her perfectly for the chilly nights in the castle.

With the gown and cloak in hand, he returned to Y/n’s chamber, excitement bubbling within him. “I’ve found something for you,” he announced as he stepped inside, the soft glow of candlelight illuminating the room.

Y/n looked up, her expression curious. “For me?” she asked, tilting her head slightly as she regarded the fabric he held.

“Yes,” he replied, stepping closer. “It’s not exactly modern, but I hope it will be more comfortable than the wet dress you’re wearing.” He laid the gown on the settee beside her, allowing her to admire its beauty.

Her eyes widened in surprise as she gently touched the fabric, fingers gliding over the delicate lace. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed, glancing up at Beomgyu with genuine appreciation. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to,” he replied earnestly, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks. “You deserve to feel comfortable and safe, especially after what you’ve been through. Please, try it on.”

Y/n hesitated, her brows knitting together. “But what if it doesn’t fit?”

“Then we’ll find a way to make it work,” he assured her, his tone encouraging. “And if it doesn’t fit, we can always look for something else together. For now, let me help you.”

With a nod, she took the gown and stood, the blankets slipping off her shoulders as she stepped behind a screen in the corner of the room for privacy. Beomgyu turned his back to give her the space she needed, the air thick with anticipation.

As she changed, he felt a strange mix of nervousness and excitement. This was a new beginning, and for the first time in centuries, he felt as if he were moving toward something brighter.

When she finally stepped out from behind the screen, Beomgyu’s breath caught in his throat. The gown flowed around her like water, accentuating her figure while the sapphire hue made her eyes sparkle with life. The lace sleeves framed her arms elegantly, and the soft fabric seemed to dance around her as she moved.

“Wow,” she said, a shy smile creeping onto her lips as she caught his gaze. “It’s… really lovely.”

“You look incredible,” he breathed, unable to take his eyes off her. “Like a queen from a long-lost fairy tale.”

Y/n blushed at the compliment, the warmth of his words wrapping around her like the gown itself. She adjusted the cloak around her shoulders, and Beomgyu stepped forward, gently fastening it for her. The intimacy of the moment felt electric, a silent acknowledgment of the bond forming between them.

“Thank you, Beomgyu,” she said, her voice soft but filled with gratitude. “I didn’t expect this at all. You’ve been so kind to me.”

“It’s the least I can do,” he replied, his gaze steady. “You’ve been through so much, and you deserve to feel at home here.”

As they shared a moment of silence, both of them could feel the weight of their pasts begin to lift. In that instant, the castle felt less like a prison and more like a sanctuary, a place where they could both heal. Beomgyu couldn’t shake the feeling that Y/n was meant to be part of his life, a light that could dispel the shadows that had loomed for far too long.

“Would you like to explore the castle now?” he asked, his voice breaking the stillness. “I can show you some of its secrets.”

Y/n’s eyes sparkled with excitement, and she nodded eagerly. “I’d love to!”

And so, hand in hand, they ventured into the depths of the castle, their laughter echoing through the halls—a sound that had been absent for far too long. Each room they entered held memories of the past, but together they began to weave new stories, the promise of friendship and perhaps something deeper blossoming in the heart of the ancient fortress.

As the days turned into weeks, Beomgyu and Y/n’s bond deepened, woven together by shared laughter, stories, and moments that lit up the shadowy corners of his castle. The once lonely halls, steeped in silence, now thrummed with life as the two explored every nook and cranny of the ancient fortress. They ventured through forgotten chambers, read old tomes in the library, and shared meals in the grand dining hall, where Y/n’s infectious laughter echoed off the stone walls.

Beomgyu found himself captivated by Y/n’s spirit—her resilience and warmth were like sunlight breaking through a stormy sky. He loved how she made him feel alive, pulling him from the depths of his solitude and into a world that felt vibrant and full of possibility. The gentle hum of their friendship became a melody that played in his heart, a soothing reminder that connection was not just a distant memory.

Every day, they created new traditions. They would take long walks in the moonlit gardens, Y/n admiring the blooming flowers while Beomgyu listened to her recount tales of her life before she had stumbled into his castle. He cherished the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about her dreams and aspirations, and he felt a sense of peace he had never known. The castle was no longer a prison; it had transformed into a haven filled with the promise of companionship.

However, amidst the joy they shared, Beomgyu felt an undercurrent of something deeper—a longing that grew with each passing moment. He couldn’t deny the way his heart raced when Y/n laughed or how he found himself stealing glances at her when she thought he wasn’t looking. Each interaction felt charged with an energy he could barely comprehend, and yet he welcomed it. In Y/n, he saw the possibility of something beautiful.

And yet, the curse that had haunted him for centuries remained a distant echo, fading in the warmth of their connection. Beomgyu had grown so absorbed in Y/n’s presence that he forgot, even for a moment, that he had ever been cursed. He was no longer the Vampire King bound by fear and loneliness; he was simply Beomgyu, a man enchanted by the light of the woman who had wandered into his life.

One evening, as twilight settled over the horizon, they found themselves on the balcony overlooking the valley below, the sky ablaze with shades of orange and pink. Y/n leaned against the stone railing, her hair dancing in the gentle breeze as she took in the breathtaking view. Beomgyu stood beside her, his heart swelling at the sight of her illuminated by the dying light of day.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Y/n murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Beomgyu replied, unable to hold back the words. The moment he spoke, he felt a rush of vulnerability, but he also sensed the warmth that bloomed in her cheeks at the compliment.

Y/n turned to him, surprise lighting up her features. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely,” he said, his tone earnest. “You bring life to this place, Y/n. You’ve changed everything.”

For a moment, silence enveloped them, the air thick with unspoken words. Beomgyu felt the weight of the moment pressing down on him, as if time had momentarily stopped. He looked into her eyes, searching for any sign of fear or hesitation, but all he found was warmth and curiosity. It struck him then that perhaps he was not the only one caught in this web of emotions.

But as they stood there, lost in each other’s gaze, a flicker of doubt brushed against the edges of Beomgyu’s mind. What if the curse still loomed over him, waiting in the shadows? He had been so caught up in the joy of their companionship that he had forgotten the warnings that had haunted him for centuries. He had never mentioned it to Y/n, and the thought of it now felt like a stone lodged in his throat.

Yet, as he reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, the doubt slipped away, if only for a moment. “Y/n,” he said softly, his voice steady, “I want you to know how grateful I am that you’re here. You’ve given me something I thought I’d never have again—a sense of belonging.”

Y/n smiled, and the light in her eyes made his heart skip a beat. “You’ve given me that too, Beomgyu. I was lost and afraid, but here, I feel… I feel like I can breathe again.”

The vulnerability in her voice made something stir deep within him—a yearning to protect that precious connection. He had never felt so alive, so anchored to another person, and he wanted nothing more than to keep her safe. The curse that had once bound him felt like a distant nightmare, overshadowed by the vibrant reality of their shared moments.

“Let’s promise to always be here for each other,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “No matter what happens, I’ll always protect you.”

Y/n nodded, and for a heartbeat, the world around them faded away, leaving just the two of them suspended in that moment of promise and connection. As the stars began to twinkle in the darkening sky, Beomgyu felt a surge of hope—perhaps love could indeed conquer even the most ancient of curses.

Yet, in the back of his mind, a small voice whispered caution, urging him to remember the shadows that lingered just out of sight. But with Y/n by his side, he allowed himself to believe that love was powerful enough to break any chains—an unwavering belief that filled his heart with warmth and light as they stood together, overlooking the vast expanse of a world that felt, for the first time in centuries, full of endless possibilities.

As the cool night air swirled around them, Beomgyu felt an irresistible pull towards Y/n. The moment seemed suspended in time, as if the universe itself held its breath, allowing him to savor the connection they had forged. He leaned in, the distance between them shrinking to nothing, and gently pressed his lips against hers.

Y/n gasped at the unexpected warmth of his touch, her heart racing in response to the electric spark that ignited between them. It was a feeling unlike anything she had ever experienced—a blend of surprise and longing that sent shivers down her spine. But within that heartbeat of uncertainty, something deep within her urged her to embrace the moment fully. She closed her eyes and melted into the kiss, her lips responding to his with an eager softness that spoke volumes.

As their mouths moved together in a tender dance, time seemed to dissolve. The world around them—the grand castle, the night sky, the distant whisper of the wind—faded into insignificance. All that mattered was the connection they shared, a beautiful intertwining of souls that felt as natural as breathing.

Beomgyu’s heart soared as he felt Y/n return the kiss, a wave of warmth washing over him. He had been so afraid of what his feelings might mean, terrified of the curse that had haunted him for so long, but in this moment, all his fears melted away. There was only her—her warmth, her sweetness, and the undeniable truth that he wanted to cherish her.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers, both of them breathless. “Y/n…” he murmured, searching her eyes for any sign of hesitation. “I—”

But Y/n cut him off, a soft smile breaking across her face. “Don’t say anything,” she whispered, her cheeks flushed. “Just… let’s enjoy this.”

Beomgyu felt a rush of relief and happiness at her words. Instead of voicing the swirling thoughts in his mind, he simply nodded, basking in the glow of their shared warmth. He took her hands in his, their fingers intertwining like the branches of a blossoming tree, and they stood together, savoring the stillness of the night.

The kiss had ignited something deep within him, a flame that dispelled the shadows of doubt and fear that had lingered for centuries. With Y/n by his side, he felt alive, truly alive in a way he hadn’t thought possible. It was as if she had reached into the depths of his soul and drawn forth the light he had thought extinguished forever.

“Can I ask you something?” Beomgyu said after a moment, his voice soft yet laced with curiosity.

“Of course,” Y/n replied, her gaze steady and warm, encouraging him to share whatever was on his mind.

“Do you… do you believe in love at first sight?” he asked, his heart racing at the vulnerability of his question.

Y/n’s smile widened, a playful glint in her eyes. “I think love can grow in unexpected ways,” she said thoughtfully. “But there’s something about this… us. It feels like it was meant to be.”

“Meant to be,” he echoed, the phrase resonating deeply within him. “I feel the same way. Being with you has brought a light back into my life that I thought I’d lost forever.”

As the stars sparkled above them, Beomgyu’s heart swelled with the realization that Y/n was not just a passing moment or a fleeting dream. She was a part of him now, a beautiful melody that resonated with his very being. He knew he wanted to protect her, to keep her close and cherish the bond they had formed.

“Promise me something,” he said suddenly, a seriousness entering his voice. “Promise me that no matter what happens, we’ll face it together.”

Y/n’s expression softened, and she nodded firmly. “I promise, Beomgyu. Together, no matter what.”

In that moment, as they stood on the balcony, hand in hand, the weight of the curse that had once burdened him felt almost nonexistent. With Y/n by his side, he believed they could face anything—even the shadows that haunted him.

As they turned to watch the horizon shift from twilight to night, they felt an unspoken promise settling between them—a promise of love, of courage, and of a future that held the potential to shine brighter than the stars above.

A year had passed since Beomgyu had first found Y/n unconscious in the woods, and with each day that unfolded, the castle had transformed into a sanctuary of laughter and warmth. The shadows that had once consumed Beomgyu’s heart slowly dissipated, replaced by the bright light that Y/n brought into his life. They shared countless moments—quiet evenings spent reading by the fireplace, long walks in the moonlit gardens, and intimate dinners where their laughter echoed off the stone walls.

Beomgyu couldn’t help but marvel at how seamlessly Y/n had woven herself into the fabric of his existence. Each morning, he woke with a sense of purpose, and each evening, he fell asleep to the soothing sound of her voice. She had become his anchor, grounding him in a reality filled with joy and companionship.

Yet, amidst the happiness that surrounded him, a flicker of anxiety lurked in the back of his mind. Beomgyu had never once mentioned the curse, the dark shadow that had loomed over him for centuries. He felt a mix of guilt and fear; guilt for keeping such a significant part of himself hidden from Y/n, and fear that revealing it would shatter the beautiful life they had built together.

He was certain that the curse had either been revoked or was nothing more than a figment of his imagination, a remnant of his past that no longer held power over him. Y/n had been with him for a year now, and in that time, not a scratch had marred her skin. No danger had befallen her since the day he had rescued her from the woods, and with every passing moment, he felt his conviction grow stronger. Surely, if the curse were real, something would have happened by now.

Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling of selfishness that crept into his heart. He knew that keeping the truth from Y/n was a heavy burden. What if she ever found out? Would she feel betrayed? Would she leave him, seeking safety from the shadows of his past? The thought sent a chill down his spine. The prospect of losing her was unbearable, and so he clung tightly to the belief that the curse was a relic of a bygone era—something that had no place in their lives now.

One afternoon, as they strolled through the garden, Y/n paused to admire a cluster of blooming roses, their petals glistening with dew in the soft sunlight. Beomgyu watched her, the sunlight casting a golden glow on her hair, and for a moment, he felt an overwhelming rush of gratitude. She was a gift, a reminder that love could flourish even in the most unlikely places.

“Look at these roses,” Y/n said, her voice filled with wonder. “They’re so beautiful, just like this place.”

“They’re breathtaking,” Beomgyu replied, stepping closer. “But they wouldn’t be nearly as vibrant without you here to appreciate them.”

Y/n turned to him, her expression softening. “You always know what to say to make me smile.”

Beomgyu chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “I only speak the truth. You’ve brought life back to this castle.”

As they continued to walk, Y/n suddenly stopped, her eyes narrowing as she glanced at him. “Beomgyu, can I ask you something?”

His heart raced at her serious tone. “Of course. Anything.”

“What’s your greatest fear?” she asked, her brow furrowed slightly as she searched his face.

A million thoughts raced through his mind, but he hesitated, caught off guard by the question. He wanted to answer honestly, but the truth weighed heavily on him, a dark cloud looming over their otherwise bright day. “I… I suppose it’s losing those I care about,” he said finally, opting for the safer route. “Being alone again.”

Y/n’s expression softened, and she took a step closer to him, her hand finding his. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere.”

He squeezed her hand, grateful for her reassurance, but the doubt still lingered in the back of his mind. “I know,” he said, forcing a smile. “But the fear still creeps in sometimes.”

“Then let’s promise to always communicate,” she suggested, her eyes earnest. “If something’s bothering you, just tell me. I want to be there for you, Beomgyu.”

“I promise,” he replied, wishing he could muster the courage to share everything with her, including the truth about the curse. But in that moment, all he could do was hold onto her, cherishing the warmth of her presence and the promise of their connection.

As they walked hand in hand, a newfound sense of hope began to bloom in his heart. Maybe it was time to let go of the past and embrace the future they were building together. Perhaps the curse was indeed behind him, and with Y/n by his side, he could forge a path filled with love, trust, and freedom.

Later that night, as they settled into the quiet of the castle, Beomgyu watched Y/n as she shared stories about her life before she had entered his world. Her laughter filled the room, a sound so beautiful it warmed his very soul. He knew he had to protect her, not just from the shadows of his past, but from any darkness that might threaten their future.

And as he listened, he realized that the curse he had carried for so long was no longer his to bear. The true magic lay in the love they had cultivated, a bond that felt unbreakable. It was a love that could withstand the weight of secrets, fears, and uncertainties.

In that moment of clarity, Beomgyu made a silent vow to himself: he would cherish Y/n, protect her, and never let the shadows of his past dictate the beauty of their future. Together, they would carve out a life filled with joy, laughter, and love—a life where the chains of the past would have no power over them. With Y/n by his side, he finally felt free.

Despite the warmth and light that had enveloped his life since Y/n had entered it, Beomgyu felt the shadows of his past stirring uneasily in the corners of his mind. He had built a fragile cocoon around them, convinced that their love was enough to keep the darkness at bay. Yet, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that the very nature of his existence could threaten everything he held dear.

As a vampire, Beomgyu was bound by his need to feed. It was a primal instinct, a hunger that gnawed at him like a persistent shadow. He had tried to suppress it, to deny its existence in favor of the blissful moments he shared with Y/n, but the call of his nature was relentless. It was time again for him to seek nourishment.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, Beomgyu felt the familiar twinge of hunger surge through him. It was a hunger that was different now, a craving intensified by the love he felt for Y/n. He tried to push it aside, but the pull became too strong to ignore.

Y/n, ever perceptive, sensed the change in him. She turned to him with concern in her eyes, and he felt his heart twist at the thought of her worrying about him. “Beomgyu, what’s wrong?”

“I… I need to feed,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, shame flooding through him.

“What if I offered you my blood?” Y/n suggested, her tone both gentle and resolute.

He felt a rush of warmth at her offer, a mixture of gratitude and dread. Accepting her gift would be an intimate act, one that deepened the bond they shared. But it also held risks he couldn’t ignore. “Y/n, it’s not just that. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I trust you,” she replied, stepping closer, her eyes unwavering. “I know you would never hurt me intentionally. This would be an expression of our connection, a way for us to share something deeply intimate.”

Her words resonated within him, igniting a flame of desire he hadn’t anticipated. The thought of tasting her blood sent a rush of need coursing through his veins. He wanted to accept her offer, to partake in the most profound aspect of their connection. After a moment of hesitation, he nodded, his heart pounding with both excitement and fear.

“Okay,��� he said softly, his voice laced with vulnerability. “But you must promise me to stop me if I go too far.”

“I promise,” she assured him, her gaze steady and trusting.

As they settled onto a plush couch in the candlelit sitting room, Beomgyu felt the weight of anticipation hanging in the air. Y/n guided him to her wrist, exposing the delicate skin. Beomgyu’s breath caught in his throat as he looked at her, seeing not just a meal, but the essence of everything he cherished. He leaned in, his fangs grazing her skin lightly before piercing it.

The moment he tasted her blood, a flood of sensations engulfed him. It was warm and rich, a divine nectar that awakened every part of him. He drank deeply, feeling her life force coursing through him, filling the empty void that had plagued him for centuries. With each sip, he felt stronger, more alive, and yet, something within him began to twist—a primal urge taking over.

Y/n gasped, her breath hitching as he drank from her, but rather than stopping, Beomgyu lost himself in the ecstasy of her blood. The sweetness intoxicated him, and he couldn’t help but want more. He was a man possessed, caught in a fever dream of desire, and the world around him faded into obscurity.

“Beomgyu, please!” Y/n’s voice broke through the haze, panic lacing her words. She began to fight against him, pushing at his shoulders, but he was lost in the whirlwind of his hunger.

“Just a little more,” he murmured, though a small part of him screamed in protest. He had never felt such an overwhelming craving, an insatiable need that pushed him beyond reason.

But with every heartbeat, Y/n’s strength began to wane. He felt her body grow weaker beneath his touch, and yet he couldn’t pull away. His instincts took control, and he continued to drink, his mind drowning in the heady intoxication of her essence.

Y/n’s struggles grew weaker, her breathing shallow, and a flicker of clarity sparked within Beomgyu. Horror crashed over him as he realized the gravity of what he was doing. “Y/n! No!” He pulled away, panic flooding his senses.

He gazed at her, eyes wide with horror. She was pale, the vibrancy that had once illuminated her features now dulled. Beomgyu’s heart raced as he fought to process what he had done. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

His voice cracked, tears brimming in his eyes as he cupped her face with trembling hands. “Please, forgive me. I lost control.”

Y/n looked up at him, her breath shallow but her gaze steady, filled with a strange mixture of fear and understanding. “Beomgyu, it’s okay… I’m here,” she whispered, though her voice was barely above a breath.

“No, it’s not okay! I should have stopped. I should have been stronger!” His voice trembled, panic clawing at his chest as he fought to keep the darkness at bay. He had promised to protect her, and yet he had become the very monster he had feared all along.

“Just… breathe,” Y/n said softly, trying to reassure him even in her weakened state. “I’m still here. You didn’t mean to hurt me.”

But the weight of his actions crashed down on him like a tidal wave. He had taken too much; the warmth of her blood that had once filled him with pleasure now felt like poison in his veins. He had nearly destroyed the one thing that mattered most to him.

With desperation, he wrapped his arms around her, cradling her fragile form against his chest. “I’ll make it right. I promise,” he vowed, tears spilling from his eyes. “I won’t lose you. I won’t let this darkness take you away from me.”

He felt her heart flutter weakly against him, and he would do anything to mend the fragile thread of life that connected them. It was a vow etched into his very soul: he would protect her from the past, from the monster within, and from the shadows that threatened to consume them both.

But as he held her, Beomgyu couldn’t shake the feeling that the curse he had thought long forgotten was creeping back into their lives, and this time, it could take everything away from him in the most cruel of ways.

Beomgyu felt as if the world had crumbled around him, leaving only the unbearable weight of reality. He cradled Y/n in his arms, her once-vibrant form now frail and pale, as if all the life had been drained from her. Her heartbeat, which had once pulsed steadily against his chest, was now a fragile whisper, fading with each agonizing second. Panic surged within him, a tidal wave of desperation crashing against the shores of his heart.

“What do I do? What do I do?” he murmured, his voice trembling as he rocked her gently, as if trying to soothe the life ebbing away from her. Tears streamed down his cheeks, mixing with the cold night air as he fought against the overwhelming feeling of helplessness.

He had lived for centuries with the curse that shadowed his existence, but never had he felt its cruel grip quite like this. It was a relentless beast that had now taken the one person he cherished most. Y/n was slipping away from him, and the realization gnawed at his soul like a ravenous predator.

He had never wanted this. The love he felt for her was supposed to bring him joy, yet here it had become a source of unimaginable pain. He pressed his lips against her forehead, feeling the warmth of her skin fade beneath his touch. “Please, Y/n. Hold on. Just hold on for me,” he pleaded, though he could hear the tremor of fear in his own voice.

But the truth weighed heavily on him like an anchor dragging him into the depths of despair. He knew he could not turn her into a vampire—not until the full moon, which was still two weeks away. Two weeks that she didn’t have. The thought was suffocating.

“Why didn’t I stop?” he cried, anguish spilling from his heart like a broken dam. “I should have listened to you. I should have been stronger.”

Y/n’s eyes fluttered open, weak but filled with a tenderness that broke him further. “Beomgyu,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “I’m not afraid.”

His heart shattered at her words. “But I am! I can’t lose you. I can’t let you go,” he begged, holding her closer as if he could somehow shield her from the inevitable. “I love you too much for this.”

She smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “And I love you. Just… hold me. Please.”

He tightened his grip around her, as if afraid that letting go, even for a moment, would send her spiraling away from him forever. He couldn’t bear the thought of life without her, and yet, the cruel reality remained. He was powerless to change their fate, a mere spectator to the tragedy unfolding before him.

“I’ll find a way,” he vowed, his voice choked with emotion. “I’ll do anything—anything to save you. I’ll beg the moon to rise early. I’ll barter with whatever dark forces I must. Just… don’t leave me.”

Y/n coughed softly, a faint smile gracing her lips. “Beomgyu, you don’t need to make promises you can’t keep. Just being here with me is enough.”

As the warmth of her body began to wane, Beomgyu felt a sense of despair clawing at his insides. “No! I can’t let this be the end!” he shouted, desperation spilling over.

But as he gazed into her eyes, he could see the light dimming, the vibrant spark of life that had captivated him slowly fading away. The reality of his situation washed over him like a bitter tide. He had always feared the curse, but now he understood its true cruelty: it didn’t just threaten his existence; it threatened the very essence of what made life worth living.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I thought I could protect you. I thought we had defeated the past.”

Tears streamed down his face, pooling on Y/n’s pale cheeks. “You gave me the happiest year of my life, Beomgyu. Don’t let this darkness win. I want you to live… to find happiness again. Promise me you’ll be okay.”

He shook his head vehemently, the thought of moving on without her unfathomable. “I can’t do that. You’re my everything. I can’t just let you go.”

With great effort, Y/n raised a trembling hand to his cheek, her touch soft yet tinged with urgency. “You must. You deserve to be happy, Beomgyu. Remember me. Live for both of us. Please…”

The weight of her words crushed him, a deep ache blossoming in his chest as he fought against the rising tide of grief. “I can’t… I can’t lose you,” he sobbed, clutching her to him as if she were the very breath of life he depended upon.

“I will always be with you, even if you can’t see me,” she murmured, her voice growing weaker. “Just hold onto our memories. Let them be the light in your darkness.”

The room felt colder, the shadows creeping closer, and Beomgyu could feel her slipping away. He pressed his forehead against hers, wishing with every fiber of his being that he could take her pain, that he could absorb it all and leave her free from the burden of this cruel fate.

“Y/n… please don’t go,” he begged, his voice hoarse, raw with emotion.

But as the seconds ticked away, he felt the warmth of her body begin to fade entirely. Her eyes fluttered shut, and the rhythmic beat of her heart grew fainter until it was but a whisper on the wind.

“Y/n!” he cried out, his voice filled with despair as he realized she was leaving him. The world around him dissolved into a haze of grief and darkness, the walls closing in as he fought against the tide of despair that threatened to consume him.

And then, as if in cruel mockery of their love, silence fell. The beat of her heart ceased, the life that had once shone so brightly in her eyes extinguished in an instant. Beomgyu felt as if the very ground beneath him had shattered, plunging him into a chasm of endless sorrow.

He had failed her. The curse had won, taking the light of his life and leaving him in the suffocating darkness once more. Wracked with grief, he held her lifeless body, a haunting emptiness echoing through the halls of his heart.

In that moment, Beomgyu understood the true weight of his curse. It was not merely the threat of death—it was the certainty of loss, a reminder that love could be as cruel as it was beautiful. He was a king without a throne, a vampire without a purpose, condemned to wander the shadows alone.

[glass-strawberries]

The Valley by The Oh Hellos: A Biblical Song Analysis

*Full analysis under the cut*

By @glass-strawberries and @glass--grapes

Author's note: we grew up Christian and we love whimsical music so hearing all these references from our childhood hit pretty well. We wanted to analyze it and share all the references because The Oh Hellos are honestly some of the best lyricists we’ve seen. 

This analysis does contain references to Genius Lyrics where we didn’t know what the lyrics were referring to. We didn’t copy them, but we added additional information.

The Valley 

Background/song summary: The Valley is the first track in The Oh Hellos Through the Deep, Dark Valley. Though the album is coined as a concept album, the concept itself is very loose. The album was made in respect to love, journeys, and righting past wrongs. 

This song is about the struggle and confusion of being born into wickedness or sin, as all humans are following the fall of humanity (the original sin). The speaker seeks a leader to the light. 

Lyric Analysis:

We were born in the valley Of the dead and the wicked

A reference to the Valley of Canaan, the ancient land that is now known as Israel/ Palestine. 

That our father's father found And where we laid him down

Moses led the Israelites to the land of Canaan as they were fleeing Egyptian captivity. Before Moses could get there, he essentially pissed off God and was banished from entering the promised land. He dies in Moab and God buries him there(Deuteronomy 34). 

We were born in the shadow Of the crimes of our fathers

 After the fall of humanity, every human ever born is born with sin. The “fathers” in this sense is everyone who came before them(Romans 3:23-24). The speaker struggles with discrimination and labels placed on them from their fathers. 

Blood was our inheritance No, we did not ask for this Will you lead me?

Canaanites were considered wicked, and were killed in a genocide against them. The speaker resents the sin that they have inherited, having been credited to this crime against the Canaanites. They once again yearn for a leader.

We were young when we heard you call Our names in the silence Like a fire in the dark

The speaker did not know God until they started to hope for a leader or divine intervention. God says that He will reveal Himself to those who truly seek him(1 John 3:2). The Bible states that when God calls out to you, He will call you by name and you will know immediately that it was Him that was speaking (Isaiah 43:1).

Like a sword upon our hearts We came down to the water And we begged for forgiveness

Water baptism is a symbolic representation of death in the flesh and being brought back to life in a new “body” that will “live” forever. The purpose of baptism is defined differently in different branches of Christianity and even among churches, but the two popular ones are: 

To proclaim your faith publicly(either way, you are saved as long as you have faith)

To become a true christian and be saved(you will not be saved unless you are baptized)

The singer chose to repent for their sins. Shadows lurking close behind We were fleeing for our lives Will you lead me?

Psalm 23:3- He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

1/24

[hiswordsarekisses]

😲‼️💯

“The way of the cross is brutal. It is bloody. The cross says, “The only way to reach out and grasp true freedom is to have your hand nailed down.”

Paradox.

To walk in the valley of the shadow of death is to come face to face with all the things that are working death in you. It is to walk the narrow path of life through the valley of death, and as you walk, you encounter your own ego, your own selfishness, your longing for approval, your desire to be accepted among men, your self-pity, your pride, and other such things we like to keep hidden behind that fig leaf. It is to wrestle against the muscle of your own reasoning. It is to willingly drop to your knees in submission, when you’d rather stand tall in your love of authority. It is to be willing to surrender when you would rather be in control. Paul said, “I die daily,” and so must we (1 Cor 15:31).

I think we are reluctant to admit our struggles with these things because we are ashamed. We are so used to hiding behind that fig leaf, of attempting to cover our own nakedness with the illusion of self-sufficiency-- “Nothing to see in my own heart, move along…” Then there are annoying people like me who shout from the city gate, “Come see how ugly we are, come and face all your warts.” That is because until we are ready to face our own wretchedness, until we are ready to look in the mirror without any filter, I dare say that we can have no real depth of intimacy with Jesus Christ. The land of the flesh is superficial and if we insist on dwelling there, then our pursuit of Christ will remain superficial as well.

We can follow Christ around and merely listen to His teachings, just like many others did in Jesus’ days on earth. But Jesus said, “For those who have ears to hear…” (Matt 13:9). It is one thing to listen, but it is quite another to truly hear what is being said. In Jesus’ day, many listened for a little while, but there will come a time for us just like it did for them, when Jesus will turn around and say, “For those who have ears to hear: There is one thing you lack. And you can follow Me this far and no farther unless you are willing to deny yourself and put your flesh to death” (Mark 10:21; Luke 9:23,24). The price of our freedom was paid for by the flesh of Jesus Christ, but there seem to be so very few who are truly willing to join Him in that death.

Beloved, Scripture clearly teaches that we are to join Christ in His death (Rom 6:4-6), that we are to flee from sin (2 Tim 2:22; Rom 13:14), that we are a new creature who is having Christ formed in us in ever-increasing glory (2 Cor 3:18, 5:17; Gal 4:19; Col 1:27). And this only happens through our cooperation with His Spirit Who works within us unto that end. There are sins of the flesh and there are sins of the heart, therefore I will confess to you that it was much easier for me to face the truth that I was an alcoholic and cut off my hand to stop drinking, than it has been for me to walk through the valley of death and face the evil ugliness of my inner man. But we must face this true condition. We must see the depth of our need, before Christ will begin to practically work Himself into us to meet it.

It is time for many in the church to stop playing with the cross, and climb onto it. Because seed cannot sprout unless it dies.

(John 12:24) Truly, truly, I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a seed; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.

(Phil 3:10) I want to know Christ and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to Him in His death..

(Matt 13:3-9) And He spoke many things to them in parables saying, “Behold, the sower went out to sow; and as he sowed, some seeds fell beside the road, and the birds came and ate them up. Others fell on the rocky places, where they did not have much soil; and immediately they sprang up, because they had no depth of soil. But when the sun had risen, they were scorched; and because they had no root, they withered away. Others fell among the thorns, and the thorns came up and choked them out. And others fell on the good soil and yielded a crop, some a hundredfold, some sixty and some thirty. He who has ears, let him hear.”

(John 15:8) This is to my Father's glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.

(Psalm 23:3,4) He restores my soul; He guides me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.”

-Kalli Womack Cook

[princelylove]

Synopsis: In which Enrico Pucci has some thoughts on his situation.

Warnings: Directly quoting the bible, general yandere content, spoilers for part three + six

Enrico tapped his finger on his own arm, unsure of what to do.

Ever since he met you, he’s been distracted.

Two.

He thought of what was written for him- what could only be written with the intent for him to see- and only grew more frustrated with himself. What was he doing here? What was his plan? What was his goal?

“He must be someone who can control his desires. Someone without a lust for power, honor, wealth, or sexual gratification. He must be someone who puts the laws of God before the laws of humans. Will I, DIO, meet someone like this one day?”

‘What a disgusting display,’ he thought to himself. Everything he was doing in this moment, every single one of his feelings, was a plague. It was a disease upon his very nature, the man he must be, yet he persisted. His mind turned traitor. 

Three.

Enrico often wondered what you were doing instead of handling the task at hand. He never understood Perla in his youth, despite supporting and loving most of her decisions. He had never been in love before. It seemed… silly. Frivolous. Like it was just something to pass the time, or something to keep humans from going extinct.

He would just say his feelings are fond. Affection is different from love. So is adoration, so is admiration. Enrico doesn’t know how to place his feelings for you. 

Perhaps it was best to leave them unspoken.

Five.

He made a promise, once. A vow. His feelings on the matter are insignificant. He was to continue DIO’s plan- at all costs. He wasn’t feeling love, he was feeling lust- and he is no sinner. 

Oh, if only he were that type of man. That isn’t the truth. Truthfully, he’s fine with sinning. Using the argument of sin against his wants was futile. It’s all just a means to an end. He would sin if he truly needed to- he has and Enrico will, again. His morals aren’t a part of this equation and, to be honest, they never will be.

He would have to find something else to discourage his thoughts of you.

Seven.

He thought of Psalm 23. 

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”

DIO was all he needed. It’s asinine to think otherwise. 

“He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.”

Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps this is what DIO wanted- to test him.

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”

DIO has never led him astray. DIO has never failed him. Even in death. 

“You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.”

Or perhaps this is exactly what his lord wanted for him. Something for good behavior- a reward for his loyalty. For his continuous struggle. 

“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” 

Yes- that’s exactly it. Of course it is. This is the little bit of indulgence Enrico will ever get in his entire life. It’s just puppy love. It’ll go away. Surely he just needs to embrace it, and it’ll leave him. His obsession-, no, his infatuation would eventually pass, as all infatuations do. He’s merely fixated on your beauty like any other would be. You’re like something in the Louvre- something to be admired from afar and never to really touch. 

Eleven.

Love is not an option for Enrico Pucci. He only has one calling, and he loves Him like he loves God.

He will not have another- he cannot have another, regardless of the type of love, and the intensity. He has no family, as far as he’s concerned. He’s too old to have a crush.

He’s a failure to his Lord if he cannot meet the prerequisites set by Him. It was right there DIO’s diary- DIO needed someone who wouldn’t succumb to foolish urges such as love. 

With DIO’s death, it’s too late for Him to bet on another player. Enrico must do what he has to do. In Heaven, he’ll find love. He’ll find you again in eternal paradise. 

But admiration is not a hindrance. Appreciation isn’t going to get in his way. 

Thirteen.

“Do you believe that I am able to do this?” He mutters, to no one in particular. The person it’s intended for has long since passed, but it’s almost as if the universe laughs in His place.

The thought does not comfort Enrico in the slightest.

Seventeen.

The sound of a disc being ejected from a cd player is the only sound you can make sense of. Your head feels as if it’s splitting in two, and your vision is getting blurry. 

Enrico shushes you, both of his hands firm on your shoulders, slowly trailing down to your upper arms.

“Be not afraid.”

The whirr of the disc being ejected plays again, and you feel yourself losing consciousness. 

“The thought to harm you hasn’t even crossed my mind.”

Nineteen.

[the0verboss]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Happy almost holiday, have something a bit lighter hearted for the boys.

Path to the left

The Netherbrain’s corpse in the distance crackles with dissipating psychic energy, a dying glow in the shallows of the Chionthar, almost a rival for the setting sun. Tall waves break against the docks, ripples from the Absolute crashing into the water not yet diminishing. On the pier, Enver Gortash sits in dented black and gold armor and takes in the refuse of this spectacular failure. The city behind him is burning, whole swaths of Baldur’s Gate reduced to not but rubble. His raiment torn and tattered, every enchantment leaking out of the split fibres. Every boat that had been at the docks dismasted, their gunwales full of holes; it'll take weeks for trade to resume.

Next to him Achaia sits in matching silence, new orchid pink eye reflecting the declining sunlight. The man’s companions have all gone, scattered to the winds now that their common foe is vanquished. Karlach, back to the hells with Ravengard's son. The wizard, off to retrieve what’s left of the crown. The Githyanki, flown away on the back of a dragon. The Sharran and the vampire, both, disappeared into the shadows.

Gortash looks away from the river and back to the smoldering city, his smoldering city. What was once the Philgrave Mansion and Felogyr's Fireworks are now just piles of indiscernible brick. His Steelwatch really had been quite formidable, and just the thought of them causes him to breath out an amused sigh.

“You know, I think the biggest mistake I made with this whole plot was fitting the Steel Watch with Runepowder bolts.” Gortash says, his amusement growing slowly into a full on laugh.

Achaia looks at him incredulous before turning to take in the city behind him.

“I mean talk about egregious overkill, they blew up more than half the city.” his laugh has become a full on cackle by the time Gortash finishes speaking and in moments Achaia has joined him, a pair of ‘heroes’ over taken by jocularity.

“Whatever happened to not wanting to scorch it's earth?” Achaia asks, breath huffing as he giggles.

“I don't know, he-heh, looks like it really- heh- back fired.”

“This whole plan, really blew up in our faces!”

Gortash howls, and Achaia matches him, the peaks and valleys of the man's laugh only serving to wind Gortash up more. Fucking hells does it feel good.To be alive, to laugh, to be with his beloved, even in failure, even broken all the way down to zero once again. How he'd missed this when he'd thought Achaia dead and gone. And even better; for the first time in longer than he can remember, there are no plots, no plans. In this moment they're, both of them, free. Against every odd they've come through, together.

He reaches out to the no-longer Bhaalspawn, hand grasping the man at the back of his neck, pulling him til their heads are pressed together. There are tears leaking from Achaia’s mismatched eyes as their laughter begins to give way. Gortash slides his hand up into Achaia's short cropped black hair, scratching at the mans scalp as he contemplates his next statement.

“You know I can't stay here? It's all going to come out, and the people who are left will hang me in the square the first chance they get.” He says, brow to brow with his beloved.

Achaia snorts at him, nose nuzzling at Gortash’s cheek, tickling the man with his mustache. “Heh, well, where would you want to go?”

“I've no idea, I'm sure what assets I had in the city are either under rubble or burned to ash. I have a handful of contacts throughout the valley but… you're laughing at me.”

Achaia IS laughing at him, but in his defense he's just as relieved to be alive and with this man as Gortash is. There had been a moment, when the brain had split Gortash’s brain in two, where Achaia had accepted his own death. Had truly welcomed it in the face of yet another grave loss. But then Withers had been there with a wave of his hand and a speech about “the bravery of knowingly walking to ones death”, and Gortash had been restored, free of charge no less.

If, after everything, actually surviving to be sat unassailed on this pier next to his love has left him a bit giddy, he figures he can be forgiven. “Enver, Enver sweetheart. We have assets, we can do anything, just point the way.”

Gortash pulls back from him, squinting in his confusion.“I don't follow.”

Achaia grins like a fiend, unspeakably alluring even with his new scars, badly cropped hair and dead eye. “I have all the money.”

“All what money?”

“THE money. The Stonelord, he knocked over the Counting House. I was supposed to bring it all back, but…I have holes in my brain, I just…I forgot.”

“So…ok start again.”

“Darling, I have all the money that had been in the Counting house vaults. Every. Last. Piece. Of gold. It's in my bag, right here.” Achaia says, tilting his head this way and that as he speaks, tapping the bag at his hip.

Gortash blinks at him, and slowly starts to laugh again. Soon they're back to where they'd started, roaring to the red painted sky, arms wrapped about each other. Gods, if anyone was watching them they'd probably assume they were drunk.

“Why in the nine hells would you have all that gold on your person?!” he asks when he can breathe again, wiping his own eyes this time as amused tears leak over his dark circles.

Achaia huffs at him, smiling wildly and shrugs,“I forgot I had it. So where would you like to go?”

“I have someplace you both would be welcome.”

Few things have ever gotten the jump on Enver Gortash, his commitment to the Banite principle of discipline firm. But the voice behind them makes him jump, both for its suddenness and its familiarity. He turns quickly, eyes seeking the speaker and finds his face near to splitting on a genuine smile.

A spiraling infernal portal hangs in the air not fifteen feet from him and in front of it a dwarven woman, with fiery red hair and mischievous, but warm, eyes.

“Hope.”

[simplegenius042]

Music Wednesday, Last Line/s & Understand My Group/Found Family In 5 Minutes Meme

Tagged by @cassietrn @noodlecupcakes and @imogenkol

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @aceghosts @direwombat @voidika @la-grosse-patate @inafieldofdaisies @adelaidedrubman @shellibisshe @josephseedismyfather @icecutioner @derelictheretic @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @josephslittledeputy @cloudofbutterflies92 @skoll-sun-eater @carlosoliveiraa @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @raresvtm @softtidesworld @starsandskies @ladyoriza @florbelles @minilev @yokobai @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @justasmolbard and @alypink + anyone who'd like to join.

Music for The UnTitledverse, Last Line's for three A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore WIPs and lastly an "Understand My Group" Meme for characters in my Wings And Horns WIP. You can listen, read and use the template of the meme that is under the cut:

More about the Walking Fate series. This series somewhat sticks to the compliance of canon, but there are times where it diverges. Mostly in regards to characters and their arcs and survival (or death), plus some plot elements being replaced/repurposed. There's about five planned "seasons", with four of them taking the canon compliance route while the fifth is an original plot. I'm also treating Walkers with more respect; they're pretty much a death sentence if anyone is unprepared for them, or god forbid, come across a Herd. Malcrum and Clementine's relationship is in no means meant to impede on the canon relationships she forms and that impact her, it is meant to be an additional and interesting idea to explore her character, especially with the inherent tragedy that ties them together and how it affects her character going forward (as well as my first time writing a relationship like this type in The UnTitledverse, which compared to its predecessors, is a story that doesn't resolve the tragedy with reconciliation between Malcrum and Clementine, emphasising the bitter nature of this bittersweet series). The tragic turn this relationship is of neither parties fault; it was simply bad luck. Malcrum, while separated from Clem and the group, happened to be at the wrong place, at the wrong time, picking up the wrong object, where his mind would (mostly) be fried and lose his agency/autonomy. Forced to watch a shell of himself harm, and at times, kill those he had come to care for or would have never wanted to do so to in the first place. The only person truly at fault here is not even in the series; that being Edward Carmine, for creating a device that probably violates more than what OSHA is concerned about. The series follows a theme of the power of resilience. Persisting in spite of the odds. Succeeding against adversity. Going to great lengths and trials to not only survive, but find a place to live. Which is why I chose this song for this series:

"I am flesh and I am bone Rise up, ting-ting, like glitter and gold I've got fire in my soul Rise up, ting-ting, like glitter Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah Like glitter and gold Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah Like glitter

Do you walk in the valley of kings? Do you walk in the shadow of men Who sold their lives for a dream? Do you ponder the manner of things In the dark? The dark, the dark, the dark

I am flesh and I am bone I'll rise, ting-ting, like glitter and gold I've got fire in my soul Rise up, ting-ting, like glitter Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah Like glitter and gold Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah Like glitter

Do you walk in the meadow of spring? Do you talk to the animals? Do you hold their lives from a string? Do you ponder the manner of things In the dark? The dark, the dark, the dark

I am flesh and I am bone I'll rise, ting-ting, like glitter and gold I've got fire in my soul Rise up, ting-ting, like glitter I am flesh and I am bone I'll rise, ting-ting, like glitter and gold I've got fire in my soul Rise up, ting-ting, like glitter

'Cause everybody in the backroom's spinnin' out Don't remember what you're asking for And everybody in the front room's trippin' out You left your bottle at the door

'Cause everybody in the backroom's spinnin' out Don't remember what you're asking for And everybody in the front room's trippin' out You left your bottle at the door

I am flesh and I am bone I'll rise, ting-ting, like glitter and gold I've got fire in my soul Rise up, ting-ting, like glitter Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah Like glitter and gold Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah Like glitter Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah Like glitter and gold Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah Like glitter."

Here are Last Line/s for three WIPs from my Fallout series A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore. Each are labelled down below:

THE WATERS OF LIFE FLOW (FALLOUT 3)

His red lenses constricted as he focused on the super mutants patrolling the fortress. If the Vault-Tec data was to be considered correct, Vault 87 was in the heart of the lions den. Ore stood up, huffing out his breathing valve as his knees made a sickening creak. He stretched in preparation for his one-man assault, outstretching a palm to feel the nuclear residue of radiation through his palms.

He hummed in satisfaction as he felt the fatigue drift away from the exposure, far more alert and energized. Flame started to spark in his palms, summoning his fire so he may weld it into a more effective weapon against the FEV rejects he would - what was the word Ress used? "Pulverize"? Yeah, that's it - would enjoy pulverizing to cinders.

THE HOUSE ON TOP (FALLOUT: NEW VEGAS)

Her gaze shifted to the only man who was distinct compared to the group he lead. His ugly checkered suit hurt her retinas, just as his smug confidence enraged her. She wanted to break it, but Ryder settled with giving the man a silent glare as she continued to dig her own grave with bound hands.

WHAT HAPPENED TO VAULT NUMBER 76? (FALLOUT 76)

In spite of being enamored by the surge of energy that intoxicated his senses, the Matthias did share his own agreement with his venn's grim words; something changed in this world. A defilement to its nature, though healing from wounds that occurred long since they both last visited, can still be felt in the present. The drunken haze of atomic residue which threatened to become absorbed in Talos' material body was all he needed to know that an unnatural shift took place.

He glanced to his fellow traveler, his closest venn, and noticed a spark in the crevices of his eyes; blazing rings that looped around their orbs with a fury he had not seen in the Arcane Urias since his only loss to a fellow venn a decamillennium ago. Talos could tell Urias held an unsatisfied opinion on this unexpected change, but his offense to it was interfering with the focus he needed kept on his disguise. Talos would have to interfere, less they be found out as inhuman.

Not that there would be any significant consequence a humanite could inflict upon them should they be found out. Fragility was merely a concept to the Matthias and the Arcane, unburdened by the weakness that haunted the "dominant" species of this world.

And lastly a meme for the four main characters of my Wings And Horns WIP. Now to explain, they aren't technically a found family/group (at least, not when the pairs are together), they just happen to run in to each other so many times. Metatron and Azriel are partnered up to work together to preserve the Soulmate System, with Azriel supposed to be nothing more than a cadet aiding the Archangel, while with Xiang and Jezebel, Xiang is a demon from the Sloth Ring of Hell, who had adopted Jezebel, whose a Sinner's Soul of a damned girl (for unjustified reasons no less). These two pairs are in fact rivals in their opposing missions to protect and break the Soulmate System respectively.

[Image Reference Credits: Art of Archangel Metatron that I found posted on Quora and Kagetane Hiruko from Black Bullet]

Here's a blank template below:

[laurancezvahlslefteyebrow]

A couple shadow knight headcanons i forgot in the last post:

They don’t need things like food, water, sleep, or even to breathe or blink. Sometimes when they’re trying to blend in around the living, they forget to do these things. This leads to some very unsettling interactions.

Premature SKs do still need these things but not as much or often as a living person. Sometimes they’ll forget to eat, drink, sleep, or take a breath and almost (or actually) pass out. Sometimes they’ll forget to blink and start crying and be really confused for a good second.

Uncanny Valley.

The calling is different for everyone. Sometimes it latches onto a lord, sometimes it’s a lover, sometimes it’s a close friend or family member. Literally just the person they are closest too. It happens eventually to all PMSKs, usually between 1-2 years after being transformed. It functions differently for everyone: sometimes coming in form of hallucinations and nightmares, sometimes it makes them extremely irritable and aggressive, sometimes anxious and paranoid. It really depends on their existing traits and experiences. The severity also varies. For people like Vylad, who have been able to put their emotions on hold, it doesn’t get to them too bad. But for someone like Laurance? Who’s emotions run his every decision? The calling swallows them whole.

This one is partially inspired by @adepressedgaydragon ‘s doll headcanon:

I like to think that these bouts of being unable to move is almost exclusive to PMSKs. Like it’s the Shadow Lord trying to take control of their body or instill fear. I feel like they’d hallucinate or have visions similar to how Malachi could show people their fears. Maybe they’re specifically visions of themself killing their lord or whoever. I think it can happen to full SKs who are out of line, like Zenix, but it’s usually reserved for the premature.

The callings starts very mild. So much so that most don’t even notice that it’s there for the first few days. Maybe it comes as a whisper in the back of their mind, a dull ache, nightmares they can’t quite remember, goosebumps and a chill on the back of their neck. Then it’s becomes intrusive thoughts, migraines, sharp sudden pains in their death scars, nightmares they can see and remember so vividly that if they were to stare at a blank wall for too long it would promptly return to them. Then it becomes seeing their shadow knight self in every reflection, hearing the voice of the shadow lord screaming at them to kill everyone around them, or maybe it’s their own voice. Or the voice of whom they’re meant to kill. They have nightmares every night of gaining their immortality. They wake up holding their sword. Perhaps encased in their armor like shell. They begin to snap at those they love and trust. They start pushing them away, maybe purposely to keep them safe. They can sense the nearest portal, they can feel it’s presence in this world they way you can feel someone staring at you. It’s all they can think about, and thinking about it is unbearable. Once the calling starts, it never truly ends. Not as long as Shad lives.

Or idk something like that. ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

[former-ancient-cookies]

Former Ancients Au Masterpost:

Welcome to the Former Ancients Au official tumblr account, and this account is ran by @theimpishknight. This tumblr makes posts between Friday-Sunday, typically around 9-1pm CST when time allows.

Last updated: 10/25/24

Summary:

After each Souljam Hero traveled to beast-yeast, they each crumbled to their beast, One, by one, by one. After only a short time under the beast, and Light Enchantess cookie’s rule, a familiar cookie and his team of scientists decided to re-bake the heroes with the best of their abilities.

One, by one, the remaining crumbs from the ancients were baked into new cookies, and placed with families to care for them. After nearly two-decades passed, the heroes came of age and each decided to take up the mantle of being earthbread’s hero. Now, with Light Enchantress hunting them, it’s up to the new Souljam heroes to stop earthbread’s evil, and reclaim their souljams.

Rules:

Important note: this au does cover sensitive topics such as Death, this blog is 16+

Do not DM the blog, or the creator.

Please do not create AI/Character AI’s of the au or its characters. I do not support ai and do not want my work to be connected to it, and Please do not be weird in the comments/reblogs.

I do not mind character shipping, just keep in mind that it isn’t canon in the story

Fanart rules:

If you would like to draw fanart, Please tag ur as #Former ancients au.

If you would like to create ocs/etc in the au, please use #FAAU fanart.

However, please do not draw nsfw of the characters, but character x character shipping, or character x oc shipping is fine!

You can also submit fanart/questions to the blog, but please keep them appropriate and also do not be weird within the questions.

Characters:

Light Enchantress Cookie:

After her fight with Shadow Milk Cookie, White Lily found herself in the grasps of Dark enchantress cookie. As she tried fruitlessly to escape, it eventually ended with dark enchantress reclaiming the half of her soulstone. However, no one would have anticipated the results, causing the legendary Light Enchantress cookie, legendary of the land of plants.

She’s a magic class cookie, and former holder of the Souljam of Freedom. She can often be seen ordering around her right-hand cookies, Laurel cookie and Lily of the Valley cookie ever since most of the cookies of darkness abandoned her cause.

Buttercream Cookie:

Baked with the crumbs of the famous Pure Vanilla Cookie, Buttercream Cookie is a Defense class cookie, and supposed hero of trust. This cookie is gifted in his defensive prowess, and is considered the upcoming prodigy of the Creme republic, and the heir to the house of cream (not related to House Scone).

Jam Choco Cookie

Hailing from the frigid Dark Cacao mountains, Jam Choco cookie is a grape Jam & Chocolate-Peanut butter flavored cookie. Jam Choco cookie is an ambush cookie, carrying a pair of solid cacao daggers with him at all times.

As the hero of determination, This cookie is often considered the most disconnected, and untrusting member of the team, however, he does care deeply for his friends.

Wildberry Punch Cookie

Wildberry punch cookie is the Support member of the team, often seen with a special pair of gauntlets made for her by the best craftsman in the Hollyberry kingdom. Being the hero of devotion, this cookie is devoted to protecting those she cares about, and to stand up for what she truly believes is right, although some cookies say that she could lighten up a bit.

Pepperjack Cheese Cookie

Pepperjack cheese cookie is the hero of giving, and a bomber class cookie. Coming from the Pepper villages in the land of spice, this cookie can be quite hot-headed, although she often finds herself as the voice of reason within the group. Even though she had to leave her village, and her twin brother in order to reclaim her souljam, she plans to one day return to her village afterwards.

Supporting Cast:

Lily of the Valley/Laurel Cookie

Being the right hand cookies just under high priestess pomegranate cookie, these two aren’t very good at their jobs. While they are strong, and gifted with magic, it is not hard to lose them in the middle of a heated battle. Although, for some reason, they have yet to be banished by Light Enchantress cookie.

Dark Choco Cookie

Shortly after he ascended the throne, dark Choco found himself between a rock and a hard place. With no commanding staff, no advising team, and no heir he quickly made changes to the kingdom for the better. After convincing licorice cookie to return to the kingdom, he made him his advisor, and put him in charge of keeping the licorice sea tame so the kingdom could finally make exports from their sea and have more income. Since the two commanders had parishes in beast-yeast, Second water, now First watcher, leads the watchers through the kingdom, while Burnt caramel cookie became the commander of the mountain wolves unit.

Custard Cookie III

After being left with no one to take care of the young king since white lily went missing, and pure vanilla perished in beast-yeast, he found himself adopted by Dark Choco cookie. While he grew up happy, he eventually returned to his kingdom and reclaimed the throne, now welcoming anyone in need to his kingdom.

Pitaya Dragon Cookie

Shortly after returning to the kingdom with only Hollyberry Cookie’s shield, pitaya dragon cookie took snapdragon cookie and went back to dragon valley. For years, they weren’t seen…until the day princess cookie ascended the throne, with her wife by her side.

Never one to turn down an invite, the dragon went…now, they work alongside the Hollyberry kingdom queen’s for a better future.

Smoked Pepperjack Cookie

Being crafted from the mixed crumbs of smoked cheese cookie, and golden cheese cookie…as well as some of the spice that filled the land, it resulted in a pair of twins. Coming from the cheese desserts, this cookie is the twin brother so Pepperjack cheese cookie.

Ever since his sister left the village, he now protects it alone, hoping that she comes back In once piece.

Comics so far:

Pt. 1.

Pt. 2.

Faq:

Kingdom references:

Vanilla Kingdom/Creme republic/cookie kingdom:

Parfaitdea:

Dark cacao kingdom:

[treethymes]

triennial ranking of hayao miyazaki movies 2023

[2017] [2020]

12. nausicaa of the valley of the wind warrior-scientist nausicaa—shepherd-princess whose staff is kindness—part the seas of violence through its inverse—and may those possessed of crushing see in the eyes of those underfoot themselves and their good and stop—but what is the inverse—and is nausicaa’s truly the face of goodness—these questions arise almost in spite of themselves—for good must question good, no matter where it is led

11. castle in the sky the world of nausicaa is leavened with a bit of fun—a swift of joy—a loose of light—the first ghibli—explodes onto the scene to vie for child hearts child eyes child minds—in sky the castle a cake crumbling between child fingers

10. kiki’s delivery service girls and mothers and women—black cats black birds black clothes—dark clouds strong winds—bright sun breaking over the town by a swirling sea

9. the boy and the heron in the echoes of many miyazakis past—miyazaki doing miyazaki shadow puppetry—working for the sake of working—playing for the sake of playing—freeform, freefall—simultaneously celebration and repudiation—a man holds hands with his mother and his grandson once again

8. howl’s moving castle a heart in the hand, a cave of the mind—a nursery rhyme for the wishful kind

7. porco rosso death on your mind but not in your hand—a fairy tale for the romantic man

6. ponyo water—water water water—answers spirited away’s “my boyfriend is the river” with “ok well my wife is the ocean”

5. lupin iii: the castle of cagliostro here is the arrival of a gentle thief who’s come to steal theft itself—in the eye of the vacuum of accumulation, this surgeon flips a switch—or does he crank a lever?—by which wealth becomes poverty and poverty wealth—see in the release of riches, in the reversal of ruin, the liberation of luxury from the clutch of clout

4. my neighbor totoro not in animation, nor in life—and least of all in the orchestration of wonder—can one ever take movement for granted

3. the wind rises as if beauty were reason enough—the fascist’s dream, perhaps—along which seam does it collapse upon itself

2. princess mononoke i suppose it’s true what they say—that things can only be done in life not death—no matter how much death rains and pours

1. spirited away a girl slips and falls many times in this immaculate little fantasy adventure

[tmarshconnors]

Scripture on Hearing God's Voice 2/2

Romans 8:16 - "The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God."

James 1:5 - "If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him."

Galatians 3:5 - "Does he who supplies the Spirit to you and works miracles among you do so by works of the law, or by hearing with faith?"

Isaiah 55:3 - "Incline your ear, and come to me; hear, that your soul may live; and I will make with you an everlasting covenant, my steadfast, sure love for David."

John 14:21 - "Whoever has my commandments and keeps them, he it is who loves me. And he who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and manifest myself to him."

John 1:1 - "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God."

Habakkuk 2:1-2 - "I will take my stand at my watchpost and station myself on the tower, and look out to see what he will say to me, and what I will answer concerning my complaint. And the Lord answered me: 'Write the vision; make it plain on tablets, so he may run who reads it.'"

Psalms 29:1-11 - "Ascribe to the Lord, O heavenly beings, ascribe to the Lord glory and strength... The voice of the Lord is over the waters; the God of glory thunders, the Lord, over many waters."

Psalms 23:1-6 - "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want... Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me."

Psalms 85:8 - "Let me hear what God the Lord will speak, for he will speak peace to his people, to his saints; but let them not turn back to folly."

Proverbs 3:30-32 - "Do not contend with a man for no reason, when he has done you no harm. Do not envy a man of violence and do not choose any of his ways, for the devious person is an abomination to the Lord, but the upright are in his confidence."

Revelation 3:20 - "Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me."

1 Corinthians 14:1-5 - "Pursue love, and earnestly desire the spiritual gifts, especially that you may prophesy... The one who prophesies speaks to people for their upbuilding and encouragement and consolation."

Psalms 91:15 - "When he calls to me, I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble; I will rescue him and honor him."

Hebrews 2:1-3 - "Therefore we must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it. For since the message declared by angels proved to be reliable, and every transgression or disobedience received a just retribution, how shall we escape if we neglect such a great salvation?"

Acts 22:14 - "And he said, ‘The God of our fathers appointed you to know his will, to see the Righteous One and to hear a voice from his mouth.'"

Job 36:22 - "Behold, God is exalted in his power; who is a teacher like him?"

Hebrews 1:1-3 - "Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son... He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature."

Ezekiel 37:1-28 - "The hand of the Lord was upon me, and he brought me out in the Spirit of the Lord and set me down in the middle of the valley; it was full of bones... Then he said to me, 'Prophesy over these bones, and say to them, O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord.'"

Job 35:10-11 - "But none says, 'Where is God my Maker, who gives songs in the night, who teaches us more than the beasts of the earth and makes us wiser than the birds of the heavens?'"

Mark 9:1-50 - "And he said to them, 'Truly, I say to you, there are some standing here who will not taste death until they see the kingdom of God after it has come with power.'"

Revelation 1:3 - "Blessed is the one who reads aloud the words of this prophecy, and blessed are those who hear, and who keep what is written in it, for the time is near."

Hebrews 3:7-8 - "Therefore, as the Holy Spirit says, 'Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts as in the rebellion, on the day of testing in the wilderness.'"

John 14:15 - "If you love me, you will keep my commandments."

Matthew 4:1 - "Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil."

Psalms 46:10 - "Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!"

1 Samuel 9:1-27 - (The story of Saul being anointed as king and listening to God's guidance through Samuel.)

1 Samuel 3:1-10 - "Now the boy Samuel was ministering to the Lord in the presence of Eli. And the word of the Lord was rare in those days; there was no frequent vision... And the Lord came and stood, calling as at other times, 'Samuel! Samuel!' And Samuel said, 'Speak, for your servant hears.'"

James 1:22 - "But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves."

John 3:16 - "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life."

[bibleversegarden]

Jesus, our Great Shepherd, is leading us through our days and our nights. He is the One who truly cares for us and is watching over us for good. He loves us and desires that we stay close to Him. Apart from His guiding presence, we become the prey of evil that lurks on every side.

We cannot make it through life in our own strength; it is way too small. Our Great Shepherd is our Savior and Lord, who has called us to His perfect rest.

Psalm 23 The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul; He leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You anoint my head with oil; my cup runs over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. See Also John 10:1-18 and 1 Peter 2:25

Hebrews 13:20-21 Now may the God of peace who brought up our Lord Jesus from the dead, that great Shepherd of the sheep, through the blood of the everlasting covenant, make you complete in every good work to do His will, working in you what is well-pleasing in His sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen.

- A Walk In The Garden Devotions

[privateanxieties]

forget my mercy, take my blame (chapter 4)

Summary: You are the same person you were a week ago, only now presenting as you truly are: hiding nothing, free of struggle. With your back to the sun and him before you, your eyes are black and resolute.

Words: 2.6K (graphic depictions of violence)

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What do people think about in their final moments? 

You assume it depends on the amount of time they have, as well as the manner of death. People have disagreed on the subject of an afterlife for as long as they've been able to contemplate it, but the moment of death itself has seldom been the focus of debate. Of all the myriad ways that things can end, when the line is crossed and the numbers are tallied, you suppose anyone would say that all death, each one that has ever been and ever will be, is either violent or lucky. 

If there is struggle, there is violence. If there is not, a person is asleep, much like Sam is as you peer down at him. 

It's been interesting, this night, but as dawn looms over the horizon, your mood darkens almost in revolt. You can neither do this the way you would have back at the house, nor summon enough derangement to keep him in storage until nighttime returns in a little over seventeen hours, even if the setting permits a bit of mania. The desert looms over Tule Valley, shadowed by white rocks to the North and shapely knolls to the South, a barren nothingness stretching out for miles. Yes, nobody will find you here. No, you will not drag this out any longer. You already shot one more man tonight than you were planning to, though admittedly it was his own fault. 

Frank.  

You don't know what he was talking about, but hell if you cared to listen. The instant that he blocked that door with his body, your finger squeezed the trigger it had been glued to since you'd laid eyes on him. Served him right for sticking his nose in other people's business. If he'd just been a misguided stranger, you'd have let it go. Clearly, a few too many screws were loose in his head too, but he underestimated just how many were rattling around in yours. The answer was: enough to shoot him in the shoulder and take his van into the desert, with Sam out cold in the back like he'd said. At least he didn't lie about that, because you'd have gone back to shoot him again. 

The dark sky gives way to a crack of indigo in the far distance, and you push off the van's back door to approach the man lying on the ground several feet away. Given he's still wearing his server uniform from the diner, you guess Frank must've nabbed him after his shift. There's no visible injury on his person besides a little redness around the clavicles, indicating knockout via strangulation. Good — at least he won't be woozy from head trauma, because you'd like to talk to him. 

His face is plain, forgettable to anyone that isn't you. Twenty-two years old and not going to get any older. You scoff at his terminal stupidity. Having this much power over someone's life should come with a degree of somberness, but you're tired and cranky from hauling Sam out of the van and dragging Frank away from the door. You've done more manual labor than intended tonight, and it's not like you've had much sleep in the past week to begin with. You spare another look at Sam's figure, cheek pressed into the ground and breathing even. Nap time over. 

You don't have a knife, so you resort to grasping his left pinky and pressing down on the nail bed until he stirs. It takes around a minute for him to awaken fully, by which time you've stood up and retrieved your gun. You move a few paces away. For a moment you wonder what your face must look like, but Sam isn't close enough to catch all the nuances in your expression as he blinks at you with furrowed brows. He coughs twice but finds his voice pretty quickly. 

"Who the fuck are you?" 

Maybe your face is forgettable too. 

"Where the fuck am I?" he demands with a weak cry, voice hoarse from the treatment his neck received. He tries to get to his feet, but he barely turns onto his side before you let off a shot near his shoulder. 

"Don't get up, Sam." 

The gesture yields the intended effect. He stops and scrambles onto his back, scooting away from you on his heels and elbows as his body kicks up dust. You point the gun at his head, silently commanding him to stop moving. He does. You close the distance to what it was before. Sam glares up at you, but he hasn't had the time in his short life to build up any menacing qualities. There's still some roundness in his face from delayed puberty, because while his documents say twenty-two, the man in front of you looks barely eighteen. Some people just look younger than they are. 

"What do you want?" 

A hint of the stutter he had the first time you met him returns for that simple question. It's not one you've personally ever asked when finding yourself in similar situations in the past. No reason to play stupid and waste everyone's time. You raise an eyebrow. 

"You don't know?" 

A look of recognition passes over his features as he studies you, but where you expect fear or nervousness, something akin to vexation appears instead. His lips curl upwards. He's displeased and ready to make it known. 

"Look, I passed my fucking test! Tell Emi I'm ready. He doesn't need to do this shit no more," he snarls. 

New information. Hm. 

"So you don't know me," you say vaguely, studying him in return. 

"The fuck do I care who you are? What, are you some new bitch he's fucking this month? It ain't gon' last, I tell you that. Just do whatever he said to so I can go home. Got enough shit on my plate." 

There's delayed puberty of the brain too, it seems. He hasn't caught on that you are not who he thinks, but interestingly, the person he thinks you are is expected to behave the way you do. He's been manhandled, kidnapped and brought to the wilderness to stare down the barrel. He does so in defiance, not an ounce of fear in his eyes. Tests. Readiness. Emi. 

You put some fear right into his kneecap. 

Sam howls his agony into the expanse of the desert as the bullet tears through cartilage and exits through soft flesh. He grabs at his leg with both hands, rocking forward several times as if to get up. He's yet to understand that he'll never use that leg again, you think, because he does try to scramble to his feet again. It's haphazard and desperate, but it grants him valuable knowledge: he falls back on his ass in a stupor, looking at his body and trying to understand its betrayal. He can feel the pain, yet he can't feel anything below the knee. 

"Are you a good listener, Sam? I can tell you're not a good observer. Maybe we can change that," you say evenly, waiting for him to register your words over the adrenaline pumping through his veins. 

He looks up at you and yowls something fierce. From what you can see in the awakening darkness, there are tears gathered in his eyes. The fire burning in them is different now, defiance waning. 

"My brother's going to fucking kill you!" he screams. It travels along Tule Valley with its dips and mounds, only to be swallowed up by the sheer expanse of nothing. He has found out who you are not. Now, to refresh his memory. 

"You should be more concerned with what I'm going to do, to tell you the truth." 

He fumbles over the hole in his knee and wrestles with control of his ligament to no avail, and if you bear witness for a minute or two, it's not something you're ashamed of. A long sigh folds your body into itself as you crouch down to his level, keeping a knee on the ground for stability. Sam's whimpers have lost some of their intensity, and for a moment you watch him watch the blood that flows from his leg into the reddish sand, creating black splotches in the low light that resemble the ones on your front door. The desert is much colder than your neighborhood. 

"I've hurt some people," you tell him, commanding his attention before he goes into shock. He lifts his eyes to your face, and suddenly he looks like even more of a child than he did before. You nod both to yourself and him in the wake of your statement, as if to confirm you've really said it. Truths uttered inside a wasteland can be bent into unflattering shapes by something as inoffensive as a breeze.

"I have. Nobody that didn't deserve it, I promise you that. But I've never done this before," you continue, head tilted with a frown. "I've never let anyone go who I knew I shouldn't." 

"I don't know what you're talking about, you crazy bitch! Look at what you did to my fucking leg!" 

His voice is scratched, not yet broken. 

"You've hurt some people too, haven't you? Only, they were good people. Right?" 

The spell of dry wind descending from the white rocks to the North has travelled a long way to encounter you both, howling through the valley with a final effort to leave its mark on the wilderness. Its tendrils are harsh and nearly icy right before dawn, sending one last caress through the realm that will soon be transformed under a ball of fire. 

A flicker of recognition arises in the man's face again, and this time, he really sees you. In the absence of synthetic light, he sees your face from the same distance he did at the bakery, same hairstyle, same plain clothes. You are the same person you were a week ago, only now presenting as you truly are — hiding nothing, free of struggle. With your back to the sun and him before you, your eyes are black and resolute. You think of nothing and have no decisions to make. 

Clarity is good. 

The steel feels cold against your hand as it reaffirms its grip on the Kimber, but the trigger burns its shape into the crook of your index finger. You breathe. You pull. 

Silencer long detached, the true sound of oblivion rings out over planes and burrows into crevices, a responding hum finding its way back to the source as if the earth itself knows it has just become a tomb. You rise to your feet. A healthy adult man will take a long while to die with just one shot to the chest. That's alright. You want him to have all the mercy of the world he created. 

Four steps carry you to Sam Collins, who's a hair removed from shock. Chest rising and falling uncontrollably, it gives way to spasms and sputters both felt and heard as his fists pound the dirt against their will. The sporadic whistling produced by his lungs barely hits your ears for how delicate it is. Most of the gray of his shirt has been chased away by gravity luring his blood into the hungry earth, never to relinquish ownership. You find yourself peering down at his wide eyes and puffing cheeks and slowly get flooded with a sense of impending disquiet. 

He shouldn't get to see the sky. He shouldn't get to watch the sun rise over his last day and make the stars disappear by casting light upon them. The oranges and purples of a desert sunrise aren't for him to witness when others only get the rigid monotony of wood and steel, an endless night trapping them inside darkness before it swallows them whole. 

You wonder what he's thinking between gasping breaths and choked words. In theory, he wouldn't be thinking about anything but survival. Only if he has accepted death staring down his path can he start contemplating other things, but Sam is still young for the amount of time he has left. Youth is defiant, unafraid. It holds out the longest in the face of calamity. As he so clearly proved, youth is barely even capable of recognizing death. It either flees in the face of it or it falls quiet. 

Sam has done both. As he looks at you and you look back, there's no telling what you'll remember of him and this moment in another nineteen years, no use in searching for clues. Whatever your mind will latch onto is outside all control. What it knows of Mark Davidson is a look like a demon's and a fury like God's, and you buried them both under rock without spectacle or prejudice what feels like a lifetime ago. You remember fuel and heat, a thundering slide of earth and gravel. 

What you'll remember of Sam could be wind, just as well as it could be silence. It could be pleading eyes or a childlike face. Whatever memory will be kept, you bear witness to his struggle against ample tranquility. He's crossing over into darkness as the first rays of sun slither along the dessicated ground and towards his face, but just before his eyes are kissed by the morning light, the fire within them burns out. You remark on the color in peace. They're green. 

Clarity is good. 

.

.

. 

The downside of being undisturbed following a murder is that you aren't really sure what to do with all your clarity. The last time you did this you were behind the wheel of a stolen car too, but back then you had the benefit of mental turmoil. You weren't thinking about much more than getting away from that quarry, weren't feeling anything but guilt and fear and a pervasive sense of biblical doom. 

Now, you're maybe a little restless. Maybe a little inconvenienced. Overall, once you're done getting rid of this van and the coyotes are done getting rid of Sam's body, you don't know where you're going to plant your feet — besides Frank's dash, that is. 

Going back to your house is out of the question right now. You're not in Utah— you're in sunny California, staying with relatives and recovering from last week's events. Showing your face so soon will raise eyebrows on faces that you aren't likely to see again anyway, so there is little point in swinging by. You will have to eventually, if you want a clean break. Few things today can't be done remotely if money is no issue, but you sprung too many roots in that town and now have to sever them yourself. 

One of them is staring back at you from the phone you've just turned on for the first time in seven days, a written update from Eliza with a photo of Piper and Mae attached. The pair of rose-ringed parakeets are snuggled together on what looks to be a desk cluttered with psychology homework. You're not surprised they've taken to her so quickly as to be comfortable outside their enclosure. Eliza is a good, caring person and as gentle as they come. You don't reply to her text. 

Sifting through the flurry of notifications and emails from purveyors with whom you'd unexpectedly suspended contracts, your eyes catch on one message that is neither inquiry nor update. It's an alert from your home security system, encrypted and blinking impatiently for it to be acknowledged. It is. 

Only some forty hours too late.

.

.

-to be continued-

A/N: No Frank in this one again, sorry! But we'll get plenty real soon, and we might even get some other people we know👀 Please let me know your thoughts, I love reading them and freaking out over this story with you!

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