#souls entwined with each other to the core

[lowkeyren]

FOR HIS HEART CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!

in which — dan feng can’t imagine a life without you. so even when death takes your hand, he'll hold on to your other and do anything to get you back in his embrace, no matter the consequences.

pairing — dan f/heng x gn!reader

wc: 2.5k, lovers to enemies, you both are lowkey bad with feelings LOL, i lied when i said there's an alternative ending for hurt/comfort enjoyers, now suffer. (reblogs w comments are appreciated, pls enjoy <3) ps. dividers aren't working cus tumblr is being mean to me so using dashes instead ARRHGHGHG

—

lying in your shared bed, your breathing grows increasingly shallow, your hands tremble uncontrollably, signaling another episode of your deteriorating condition. the dim, cold room feels oppressive as you catch the distant echoes of the best physicians from all around xianzhou, their hurried steps reverberating against the walls as they hasten to your side.

dan feng tightens his grip on your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, his expression etched with concern. the smell of herbal remedies and the sharp scent of sickness fills the air, mingling with the mustiness of the stone walls; a familiar sense of dread washes over you as you struggle with each breath.

his brows are furrowed, and his lips are pressed into a thin line, his knuckles turning white from the tightness of his grip on your hands. the pressure is so intense that it almost hurts —almost, but not quite enough to cause you (more) pain. he would never hurt you, not even over his own grave.

despite the best efforts of your personal caregivers, the limitations of medical knowledge, and the uncertainty of your treatments are harsh realities you have to face. it fills him with anguish to witness your episodes almost daily —suddenly collapsing in his arms, gasping for breath; moments like these are where he feels like he's standing right beside your deathbed, desperately hoping for signs of improvement each time you open your eyes again. 

it kills him that there's nothing he can do but watch over you, he watches as you waste away before his eyes, feeling a piece of himself wither away in tandem. 

dan feng’s eyes search yours the moment you regain consciousness, the doctors respectfully step back, bowing before hurriedly exiting the room. his heart breaks into a million pieces when he sees your eyes that were once bright with joy, now clouded with tears. the sight pierces through him, stirring a deep ache in his chest.

"dan feng," you whisper hoarsely, your voice fragile with pain. “it hurts, it hurts so much…” he presses a soft kiss against your entwined hand, his touch a soothing balm amidst the storm raging within him. “don’t worry,” he murmurs softly, “i’ll make it go away soon, i swear.”

“thank you.. but promise me, if i don't make it, you'll find a way to move on.” you manage a weak smile through the pain. his eyes glisten with unshed tears, he shakes his head slightly, "i won’t let that happen." 

of course he won’t. you were the kindest, most lovely soul before this godforsaken unknown illness with no definitive cure stole your life away; he sees your smile slowly losing its radiance, and your eyes dulling as each day passes. 

“this body… it’s useless, i’m useless. i’m sorry, i—” dan feng places a finger against your lips. his touch tender yet firm, stopping your words. "don't say that," his voice choking with emotion. "you're not useless, in fact you're the strongest person i know."

hearing you utter such self loathing words is like a dagger twisting in his heart, tipping him over the edge. you, who have always been his anchor in life's turbulent seas, slipping away feels like fragile glass shattering into countless shards, leaving him scattered and irreparable, each piece cutting deeper into his core with every breath.

he can't face the idea of losing you. it destroys him from within, even more so now that time is running out. but he won’t let anyone else have you, not even the cold hands of death. for you, he’s willing to pay any price, even if it means he has to break the highest laws of xianzhou.

—

you wake up feeling unusually energized, a stark contrast to the persistent aches and pains that have haunted you for so long. as you sit up, the familiar discomforts are no longer present, instead replaced by an almost surreal sense of vitality.

but something feels strangely off, an unsettling sensation gnawing at the edges of your awareness. your eyes dart around the room, frantically searching for your boyfriend’s presence; he has never left your side without a word (his protectiveness wouldn't allow it anyway), especially not for this long. 

panic flares as you look down at your body. the surgical wounds that once marked your skin have vanished without a trace. your breath catches in your throat as you run your fingers over the smooth, unblemished surface where scars should be.

you push back the covers and swing your legs over the side of the bed, struggling to piece together what could have happened.

where is dan feng? is he in trouble? and, why do you feel so... alive? 

then, a chilling realisation dawns on you. you try to shake the thought from your mind, but no matter how hard you try, you aren’t able to find any other explanation that fits your condition. as the high elder, dan feng should know better than anyone that such an act is a sin —a disgrace...

the truth begins to settle in, he really did sacrifice everything to grant you immortality.

—

“you’re literally the high elder for god's sake, what have you done?!” you exclaim, your voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and anger.

dan feng's expression is pained as he meets your gaze, his own eyes filled with a desperate resolve. “i’m only trying to help you. you don’t understand, i—”

“help me?” you cut in sharply, scoffing. “you betrayed xianzhou! you betrayed me. i was ready to let go, so why?” 

he reaches out to you, his hand stopping, and hovering in mid air as if unsure whether to touch you. "i can't bear to lose you," he confesses, his voice barely a whisper. "i can’t just stand by and watch you suffer when i have the power to save you."

tears well up in your eyes, the room feels suffocatingly small as you stand in front of him. for the first time, you find yourself on opposite sides of the battlefield, the weight of his transgression hangs heavy between you, tearing apart everything you once knew. 

“by defying everything we stand for?” you choke out, your words laced with venom. “do you realise just what you’ve done?” he takes a step closer, his face etching with anguish. "i know i’ve made a grave mistake." he admits, “but will you believe me if i say that i didn’t regret it one bit?”

“how can you do all this… for love?” your eyes search his for answers that seem unfathomable. “no, my dear, for you.”  he steps closer, his breath warm against your skin, gaze locking onto yours with an almost desperate intensity. 

"but how can i ever love you again after this?" you whisper, your voice trembling. his heart shatters at how your eyes taint with fear and betrayal, the sight wrapping around his chest like a vice. the mere thought of losing you, of seeing you banished because of his desperation, is a torment he can hardly bear —but now one that he has to face.

"if you can't accept what i've done, i'll grant your wish, whatever it is.” he murmurs. “for you, i’m willing to pay any price." 

though when bound in chains, his title of high elder does little to shield him from the repercussions of breaking the sacred laws. he’s taken away; his fate sealed by the very rules he broke. and you, the one he tried to save, find yourself exiled, cast out for the sin you never chose.

as you wander, lost and alone, the realisation of what he gave up for you lingers, a bittersweet reminder of his love that defied everything, yet cost you both so much. 

—

the land of xianzhou is something dan heng is strangely familiar with; he walks through the maze of narrow alleys and crowded squares, every corner seems to whisper fragments of memories long buried. 

“dan heng! look, isn’t this so cool?!” the excited voice of a pink haired girl reaches his ears. her eyes sparkle with enthusiasm as she animatedly gestures towards a nearby market stall with hand-carved trinkets. she continues to gush over the intricate designs while holding the hand of her grey haired companion, eagerly dragging them towards the stall.

his eyes follows them as their silhouette grows smaller and smaller, eventually disappearing amidst the crowd. just then, another figure in the distance catches his attention.

it’s a brief glimpse, a fleeting moment where your eyes meet across the street. perhaps it's your mannerisms, your familiar gestures, or simply the way you carry yourself —whatever it is, it stirs a rush of adrenaline, a sense of déjà vu that he can’t quite shake.

dan heng pushes through the bustling throng, eyes darting frantically in search of you. the world blurs around him as he focuses solely on catching another glimpse of you; he spots you slipping into a narrow alleyway, and without hesitation, he follows.

the noise of the market fades into a distant hum as his footsteps echo softly against the alley walls. he turns a corner and sees you up ahead, your figure outlined by the dim light filtering through cracks in the buildings.

you soon reach a dead end, but as you turn to leave, you bump into someone’s chest. the world seems to stand still for a moment, dan heng's breath catches in his throat as he looks down at you. although your face is partially obscured by a thin veil, your features are still discernible. 

“oh? it seems you still remember me.” you finally meet his gaze. those eyes he cherished so dearly still hold a spark of life. “[name]?” he murmurs, the sound of your name still so intimate on his lips after many years.

“you haven’t changed one bit.” he reaches out to gently push the veil covering your face aside. a flood of memories rushes through his mind, one a sharp pang in his heart. seeing you again triggers a vivid recollection of the exact place and position you were in years ago, a memory that stings to recall.

“i wonder whose fault it is?” you tilt your head, if only he knew the trouble you went through to find him again; given that goodbyes were never exchanged between you, it seems fitting to offer one now.

before he can say a word, you swiftly grab his collar and wedge him firmly against the wall. he doesn’t resist even when he feels the cold sharp edge of your dagger pressing against his throat, his gaze still fixing firmly on yours. 

"have you ever felt remorse?" you lean closer into him, your voice is barely audible through your gritted teeth. he ignores your question; unexpectedly, he grips your hand, dragging the blade down to his chest, positioning the point directly over his heart. 

"as long as my blood is on your hands, go ahead, do it." he whispers, his voice steady despite the tension. "my heart has always been yours anyway." his eyes bore into yours as if daring you to follow through. 

his grip on your hand tightens, urging you closer. "and if this is what it takes to ease your pain, then i'm ready."

"...what? you must be out of your mind if you think this way of making amends will work." your disbelief is clear in your voice; you try to shake his hand away, but he refuses to budge. 

dan feng couldn’t imagine a life without you, so when death takes your hand, he holds on to your other —and finds you again as dan heng. even as he gets on his knees and begs for your forgiveness, he still holds on to your hand as tightly as he can, afraid that any moment you might slip through his fingers.

“i’m sorry, i just couldn’t accept the thought of you leaving me.” and i still can’t, so please don’t leave me again.

you feel your willpower wavering, his very being melting away at your resolve. it's too much to bear, and you feel yourself slipping under the weight of his words. even still, you find yourself struggling to deny him. to deny yourself. to deny your own feelings. 

you fight the urge to simply give in, torn between the desire to just let go and fall into the sweet oblivion of his embrace, and the fear of getting sucked back into a cycle of destruction and pain. the weight of all that history, all those memories of your bittersweet love, it's overwhelming, nearly crushing.

“i know.” your heart aches, but you still deny the crave of the comfort of his arms. “and you’re not wrong,” the dagger clatters to the ground, the metallic sound echoing through the alleyway. 

“your heart is mine.” you push the veil to cover your face, placing your hands on his shoulder, leaning in. the cool silk brush against his parted lips, and oh… he’s been waiting so, so long for this moment.

though you pull away just as he comes to his senses. for the first time in years, he sees your smile again —the same smile that first captivated him, the one he had cherished and sought to preserve over the years. 

"remember the wish you owe me?" he nods, unable to find words. the memory of his promise resurfaces with startling clarity, his mind racing with the possibilities of what you might ask for. 

—

dan heng looks in the dagger's reflection; a dishevelled and broken man stares back.

the cold metal digs deep into his palm, the sharp edge slicing into his skin. in that moment, he wants nothing more than to be free of it, than to plunge the blade into his own heart. he feels the pain all over again, the pain of not being able to hold you, to touch you, to be with you.

for he knows that no matter how tightly he grips the dagger, it will never be the same as holding your hand. he knows that no matter how deeply it cuts into his flesh, it will never feel the same as holding you close.

“i wish i never loved you.” your words echo painfully in his mind. “and i hope we never cross paths again. goodbye, dan feng.” he releases the dagger with a sudden twist of his arm.

if choosing you over xianzhou was wrong, then consider him a sinner, and if loving you this much is his downfall, then consider him already on his knees.

but was it worth everything? was it worth it to see the look of utter desperation on his face? was it worth it to see him break apart in front of you? you feel only resentment and satisfaction; you made him feel what you wanted him to feel, you made him suffer for you.

the blade falls from his grasp, he stands amidst the shards of shattered illusions; the pain of your absence cuts deeper than any blade ever could. 

perhaps in another lifetime, he can find you again. 

for now, he honors your wish and only watches as you live on from the sidelines, yearning to be a part of your life again, even if only in his thoughts and dreams. he remains steadfast in his longing, a silent witness to the unspoken ache that lingers in the wake of your parting words.

—

masterlist

©lowkeyren 2024 only on tumblr. please do not plagiarize, translate, repost on other platforms, or feed my works into ai.

author's notes!! (my line of thought when writing this lul)

1. you made him suffer for you. -> irony. vengeance. he made you suffer BECAUSE of him granting you immortality. 2. dragging the blade down to his chest, positioning the point directly over his heart. = "my heart has always been yours anyway." -> which reader says with “your heart is mine.” 3. “and i hope we never cross paths again. goodbye, dan feng.” -> reader refers to dan heng as dan feng, i wonder what that means. 4. perhaps in another lifetime, he can find you again. -> you're both evil asf ngl, yes he will find you, you can't die aka you can't leave (him). ^ the only reason why he doesn't keep pursuing u now is cus he promised to grant your wish which is "to never cross paths again". (wow, he's such a man of his words.) 5. reader kisses dh over the veil, deliberately denying him the satisfaction of any intimacy. can be seen as a form of "punishment", leaving him yearning for more.

ty for reading xx for each reblog i will write 100 words for pt2 /j (BUT DO REBLOG IF U ENJOYED!! and it might not be a slash jay after all heuehehheh)

[reveryfics]

Hello, I love your Bucky stories ^-^

Can I request a dom Bucky x bottom mreader smut?

Slow and romantic sex on a rainy evening.

Firelight And Rain

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Male reader

Summary: A cozy rainy evening turns into a whirlwind of passion

A/n: I have a lot of requests in my drafts, so bare wth me while I get around to all of them. I also have a few nonrequests in drafts for the holidays. Requests still open, but I'm strictly doing marvel from now on!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The rhythmic patter of rain against the windowpane mingled with the crackling dance of the fire, casting flickering shadows that danced across the walls of the small, cozy bedroom. Two figures, entwined beneath the crisp white sheets, were silhouettes against the warm glow, their bodies moving in a slow, sensual rhythm.

Bucky, his eyes half-lidded with desire, hovered over his lover, his lips tracing a path of fire across the expanse of his chest, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He nipped and sucked gently at the smooth skin, a low hum of pleasure escaping his lips as his lover, with a soft moan, tangled his fingers in Bucky's hair, tugging gently.

Bucky's hands, calloused but gentle, roamed across his lover's body, a caress here, a squeeze there, sending shivers rippling down his spine. He trailed a trail of kisses down his torso, each touch igniting a spark of desire. He paused at the waistband of his boxers, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of the taut muscles beneath.

With a shared sigh, they discarded the rest of their clothes, the rustle of fabric a whisper in the quiet room. Their bodies, slick with sweat, pressed together, a shudder running through them as their erections met, a promise of the pleasure to come.

Bucky captured his lover's lips in a kiss that was both fierce and tender, their bodies moving as one, a symphony of flesh and desire. Soft moans escaped their lips, each touch, each movement, sending a jolt of pleasure through their aching bodies. Lost in the moment, they explored each other with a reverence born of love and passion, their souls as intertwined as their bodies.

Bucky deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing the contours of his lover's mouth, a silent conversation passing between them. He tasted the salt of his lover's sweat, the faint tang of the fire, and the intoxicating sweetness of their passion.

His hands, strong and sure, moved lower, exploring the landscape of his lover's body with a reverence that bordered on worship. He found the tight knot of muscle at his lover's core, gently massaging it, eliciting a low groan that sent shivers down Bucky's spine.

His lover, in turn, reached up and cupped Bucky's face, his thumb stroking the line of Bucky's jaw. "You," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire, "you feel so good."

Bucky pressed closer, his body a furnace against his lover's. He moved slowly, deliberately, savoring the anticipation, the building tension that threatened to consume them both. He found the sweet spot, the place where pleasure bloomed into an explosion of sensation, and he held it there, reveling in the shared ecstasy.

Their bodies convulsed, a wave of pleasure washing over them, leaving them breathless and spent. They clung to each other, their bodies slick with sweat, their hearts pounding in unison. Bucky buried his face in his lover's neck, inhaling the scent of his skin – a mix of woodsmoke and something uniquely him – a comforting anchor in the aftermath of their passion.

"Always you," Bucky murmured, his voice thick with contentment, tracing lazy circles on his lover's back. "Always."

His lover smiled, a slow, lazy curve of his lips. "Always you, my love." He reached up and tangled his fingers in Bucky's hair, pulling him closer. "Forever."

The air in the room, thick with the scent of their shared sweat and the lingering wood smoke, was electric with the aftermath of the moment. They lay entwined, their bodies still trembling from the release, a comfortable silence settling between them. Bucky, his head resting on his lover's chest, listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a comforting counterpoint to the crackling of the fire.

He traced lazy patterns on his lover's skin, his fingers lingering on the sensitive flesh around his hip. "Never thought I'd find someone who could make me feel like this," he confessed, his voice a low rumble.

His lover chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that vibrated through his chest. "Me neither," he admitted, his hand gently stroking Bucky's hair. "You… you make me feel whole, Bucky."

Bucky looked up, his eyes meeting his lover's in the firelight. "And you… you make me feel alive," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "More alive than I ever thought possible."

He leaned up and kissed his lover, a soft, lingering kiss that spoke volumes. It was a kiss of contentment, of gratitude, of a love that transcended words.

They lay there for a long time, simply enjoying the quiet intimacy, the warmth of their bodies pressed together, the comfortable silence punctuated only by the crackling of the fire and the rhythmic beat of their hearts. As sleep began to claim them, Bucky snuggled closer, finding solace in the familiar warmth of his lover's embrace. He knew, with a certainty that settled deep within his soul, that this was where he belonged, in this moment, with this man, forever.

[augiewrites]

"secret admirer" - dead poets society (part 4)

summary: y/n finds yet another note in their desk and sees something interesting on a late night walk home from the library

pairing: anonymous!dead poet x gender neutral reader

word count : 1.1k

previous | next

a/n: i think this is my favorite chapter so far—thanks for all the love on this story :)

Y/N didn’t receive another letter that week. Doubt was swirling in their mind—what if their admirer had lost interest? Maybe they met a real, feasible person and forgot about them. The endless swirl of scenarios was eating them alive. They needed a distraction, but they knew it wouldn’t do much for them. Their mind bounced straight back to their poet during any moment of silence.

They had taken Meeks and Pitts up on their offer to study with them, and they found themselves growing increasingly fond of the two boys. Y/N would be elated if their poet turned out to be anything like them.

Passion was a rare commodity at Welton, and dissent was especially hard to come by. Y/N had been beginning to feel as though they were the only person unhappy with being forced into conformity—or, at least, the only person willing to vocalize their discontent.

That changed as they got to know Meeks, Pitts, and, in turn, the random assortment of boys that popped in during these study sessions. They had forgotten how good it felt to speak their mind to non judgmental ears. Hell, even the ever-bashful Todd Anderson was slowly coming out of his shell in their presence.

The only issue, of course, was Charlie Dalton.

There was just something about the boy that got under their skin.

The line between confidence and arrogance was extremely thin, and Charlie was constantly teetering along that threshold. 

If there were a social hierarchy within the group, Charlie was at the top of it—and the boy was well aware. The other boys were often onlooking Charlie’s antics with a noticeable level of admiration.

Y/N knew that there had to be another layer behind—far behind—the boy’s often pompous attitude. After all, at every teenager’s core is a half-child that wants nothing more than to feel a sense of belonging. A level of vulnerability that most teenage boys don’t want being observed.

A level of vulnerability that Y/N didn’t stick around long enough to see in Charlie Dalton.

The boy in question was currently reciting an excerpt from Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew.

“Why are our bodies soft and weak and smooth,

Unapt to toil and trouble in the world,

But that our soft conditions and our hearts

Should well agree with our external parts?”

Y/N couldn’t help but think that his voice was quite nice—velvety and assured.

They shook the thought from their mind and opened up their desk. A gasp was suppressed at the sight of a neatly folded piece of stationary atop their mess.

Eager hands unfolded the parchment as discreetly as possible.

Darling Y/N,

Did you know that you get this adorable wrinkle between your eyebrows when you’re frustrated? I love seeing it almost as much as the dimple of your cheek when you smile.

In shadows cast by moonlight's gentle gleam, A heart entwined in love's elusive dream. Captivated by a smile so divine, Another's joy, a radiant sign.

Each curve and grace, a sunlit dance, Ignites a flame, a tender trance. In stolen glances, a world unfolds, Where every story of passion is told.

A symphony in the heart's soft sigh, A love that blossoms, soaring high. With every grin, a melody sweet, Two souls in rhythm, destined to meet. I hope to see that smile again soon.

x, Yours.

Y/N’s entire body was buzzing as they flipped to a blank page of their notebook.

In crowds unknown, a face concealed, Yet a whispering heart, its fate revealed. Mystery veils, like a silent star, In the vast unknown, I find you, afar.

No words exchanged, no history traced, Yet in your presence, a love embraced. Falling in realms of the unseen,  An enchantment, profound and serene.

Y/N ripped the page out and left it on top of the clutter within their desk. They didn’t look back once when the class was dismissed.

_________________________________________

“We should probably head back to the dorms if we don’t want to get reamed for missing bed checks.”

Y/N and Meeks were the only members of their study group left conscious. Charlie was long asleep—spread across the seats of four chairs.

“That’s too bad,” Y/N grinned, “this is the first time I’m actually enjoying Dalton’s company.”

“You always enjoy my company, Y/N,” Charlie muttered with his eyes still shut, “don’t lie to poor Steven.”

“Whatever helps you rest easy.”

Meeks just shook his head. the ghost of an amused smile threatening his lips, “you live in the East wing, right? One of us should walk with you.”

“I think I’ll survive, Meeks,” Y/N said on a laugh, “you need to be getting back to tuck Pitts in, anyway.”

The two exchanged good nights and good lucks on the Latin oral the next day before Y/N left Meeks in charge of rousing Charlie.

_________________________________________

It was uncharacteristically warm for late January, and Y/N decided to take the slightly longer scenic route back to their dorm. They would happily be chastised for getting back slightly after curfew if it meant they were able to be outside for a while and still be able to feel all their limbs.

A hushed giggle floated across the courtyard, snapping Y/N out of their thoughts. They spotted a familiar head of shaggy brown hair accompanied by another with perfectly curled blonde locks.

“Knox, really,” another giggle, “I have to go.”

“C’mon, Chris. Just a couple more minu—” his head snapped toward the sound of Y/N’s soft footsteps. The panic in his expression quickly melted into relief and a sly smile.

“Hurry, Chris! Hide,” he gently pushed the girl behind him, “we have a spy on our hands.”

Y/N stuck their hands in their coat pockets, feeling as though they were the one caught instead of the couple before them.

“Just an innocent bystander, I swear,” Y/N shot them a sheepish smile.

Chris nudged Knox, looking much more anxious than the boy.

He startled, glancing between Chris and Y/N with a soft, “oh.”

“Chris, this is Y/N—a friend of the poets,” poets? “Y/N, this is Chris, my girlfr—”

“His friend,” Chris interrupted, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

Knox held a hand over his heart, feigning offense, “she’s just in denial. Girlfriend.”

“Denial is probably the safest option here. Smart woman,” Y/N smirked at the boy, “I should be getting back. I’ll let you two…finish up here.”

Y/N barely registered the pair’s goodbyes as they walked away. Their thoughts were in overdrive.

I guess it’s not Knox. I should have realized that sooner. I guess that pathetic poem really wooed Chris. Y/N laughed lightly to themselves. What did he mean, “a friend of the poets”? 

The more Y/N found out, the more confusing it all felt.

~~~

part five

[hoslunix]

*Wip*! °•CAITVI | Sesbian Lex Session ☆~`

No warnings just fluff and smut (explict but more a subtle) actually its my first smut so if ya have advices, go ahead♡

Caitlyn's fingers traced gently through Vi's fiery red hair, cradling her head tenderly as Vi was eating her out, her movements slow and sloppy messy against Caitlyn's core.

There's gaze flickered upward, catching sight of her *Cupcake's* expression- a perfect portrait of ecstasy.

Caitlyn's flushed face was framed by the bite of her lower lip, her body trembling with each surge of pleasure. Soft, breathy moans spilled from her lips, resonating through the room, a symphony of desire that fueled Vi's every motion.

Caitlyn's soft, British-accented voice spilled out in tender whispers of her lover's name, each syllable carrying an intimate warmth that drew a genuine grin from the redhead.

Their eyes met, locking in a gaze that seemed to reflect their very souls back into one another. Caitlyn's nails pressed into Vi's tattooed back, leaving faint trails of passion as she clung to her lover, their bare bodies entwined in perfect harmony. In that moment, they became one-two hearts beating as a single entity, overwhelmed by a whirlwind of emotions. But above all, the love they shared unbreakable even from all the agony that came from the recent events.

Whispering sweet nothings close to her ear as the feeling of the teeths biting the helix, leaving a hickey with that responsive gasp from the bluehead

Her scarred lips began their ascent from Caitlyn's pelvis, planting a trail of tender, lingering kisses along her soft skin. Each touch was deliberate, worshipful, gliding from the toned curve of her abs to the delicate line of her collarbone, leaving no spot behind.

However the lips hovered near Cait's ear, her voice dipped into a husky whisper, spilling sweet nothings that sent shivers down her partner's spine. The sensation of Vi's teeth grazing her helix, followed by the soft sting of a love bite, drew a sharp, breathy gasp from the blue-haired woman-a sound of both surprise and delight.

"Fuck" Vi muttered under her breath with a smirk, she was clearly very fond of this so activity, but not only just the intimate physical glee but also for the deeper meaning it carried it was a proof of their trust.

This wasn't merely an act; it was a testament to their bond, a proof of the unwavering trust they shared.

How two people could trust eachother so much to offer their body and the raw and vulnerabilty of such to another human being, and they had that, in abundance. It wasn't just about passion; it was about the rare and precious connection they nurtured, where trust and love mixed, making every moment between them sacred.

"I fucking need you," Caitlyn breathed, her voice trembling with a mix of urgency and hesitation. For just a heartbeat, she faltered-before closing the gap, crushing her lips against Vi's with fiery desperation. Their mouths collided, tongues entwining in a heated battle for dominance, a dance of passion that left them both breathless.

Their hands tangled in each other's hair, pulling one another closer as if the distance between them was unbearable. Legs chained to eachother, thighs brushing and pressing as they stumbled backward, crashing into the cold, unyielding wall. But neither cared about the chill-it only heightened the feverish intensity of their lust and proclivity.

[doumadono]

Sinful Sunday is here! How about a romantic and passionate wedding night with Kirishima? 😍😍😍

Warnings: aged-up Kirishima (+25yo)

SINFUL SUNDAY

In the dimly lit room, the soft glow of candlelight cast flickering shadows on the walls. A sea of rose petals adorned the large, canopied bed, and the air was heavy with the scent of lavender and vanilla. The scent of desire was even stronger. It was the wedding night, and you and Kirishima had been eagerly awaiting this moment.

The room seemed to hum with anticipation as you stood before each other, dressed in the finest garments that seemed to vanish with each delicate touch. Kirishima's intense, crimson eyes locked onto yours with an unspoken promise, and his rough, calloused hands gently cupped your face.

He brushed his lips against yours, a feather-light touch that sent shivers down your spine. "You look amazing," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. His warm breath danced across your skin, igniting a fire within you.

You couldn't help but smile, your fingers lightly tracing the chiseled contours of his chest beneath his crisp, white shirt. "And you, my love, are simply breathtaking," you replied, your heart pounding with passion.

With a deep, passionate kiss, the world around you disappeared. It was just the two of you, locked in an embrace that seemed to transcend time. Kirishima's hands slid down your body, caressing every inch with a tenderness that was in stark contrast to his usual rugged demeanor. He slowly lowered you onto the bed, the softness of the rose petals beneath you adding to the sensual atmosphere.

As your bodies entwined, the fabric of your clothes seemed to melt away. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered declaration of love seemed to build the flames of desire higher and higher. Your whispered words of affection and longing filled the room, creating a symphony of love that was both intoxicating and beautiful.

"I've never wanted anything more than I want you right now," Kirishima confessed, his voice raw and honest.

You gazed into his eyes, lost in their intensity. "I've waited for this moment for so long," you replied, your heart brimming with love. "I love you, Eijiro."

The night continued to unfold with an intensity that left you both breathless. Kirishima's fingers explored the contours of your body, igniting a trail of sensations that seemed to converge at the very core of your being. He leaned down to kiss your neck, his lips trailing along your collarbone and making you gasp with pleasure.

The soft rustling of the bedsheets accompanied your movements as you rolled over, straddling him with a teasing smile. You could feel his heartbeat quicken beneath you as you ran your fingers through his vibrant, crimson hair. "Eijiro," you whispered, "I want to make this night unforgettable for both of us."

His eyes gleamed with desire as he watched you, and he nodded in agreement. The two of you shared a deep, lingering kiss that spoke of your love and longing. With slow, deliberate movements, you both shed the remnants of your clothing, exposing your bare bodies to each other.

The sensation of skin on skin was electrifying, and you reveled in the warmth of each other's bodies. Kirishima's hands traveled up your back, his touch igniting every nerve ending. Your lips met once more, a fiery kiss that seemed to transcend words.

The culmination of your wedding night was a slow and passionate lovemaking session that transcended mere physicality. It was a celebration of your deep connection, a union of hearts and souls.

With your bodies intimately entwined, you guided Kirishima's dick inside you, and the sensation was electric. Every movement was a testament to your love, a dance of desire and affection that seemed to blend your very essences together. Your eyes never left each other's, the intensity of your gaze reflecting the depths of your emotions. His dick soon nestlead comfortably in your pussy. "I love you," you whispered, leaning forward to steal a kiss from his parted lips.

"God, you feel so good around my cock, my love. My beautiful wife," he whispered.

His thrusts were deliberate as he bucked his hips into you, meeting all of your movements as you slowly rode his cock, each one filling you with an overwhelming sense of pleasure. The room echoed with soft sighs and whispered words of love, the rhythm of your lovemaking echoing the cadence of your hearts.

You rocked your hips back and forth, taking his hands and placing them on your boobs.

Eijiro eagerly rubbed your aroused buds, getting his upper body off the bed to wrap his lips around one of your nipples, sucking the bud in his warm mouth.

You whined quietly, his name was the only thing to leave your parted lips as you were gasping every now and then.

As you moved together, your bodies responded to each other's desires. The passion built like a crescendo in a symphony of love, rising higher and higher until it reached its peak. In that moment of pure ecstasy, your bodies and souls merged, and you felt a connection that was beyond words.

Kirishima held you close, his fingers entwined with yours as you both experienced the ultimate release. It was a shared climax that left you both breathless and spent, a physical manifestation of the love and passion that bound you together. Your slick juices covered his shaft, mixing with his seed that milked the velvety walls of your needy pussy.

"I love you," Kirishima repeated like a mantra, his voice a constant reassurance. "Don't get off me just yet, please, my love. I wanna feel your wetness for a little longer…"

"I love you too," you responded, your heart feeling as if it would burst from the intensity of your emotions, slowly laying your chest on top of his, gently rolling your hips a few more times, earning a gasp from your husband.

"God, you're driving me crazy, babygirl. My wife."

As you rolled your hips, yur mixed releases gushed out of you, even if you were still stuffed with his flaccid dick; the juices slowly streamed down his dick, covering the pool around the hilt of his penis.

The night seemed to stretch on forever, a testament to your love and desire. In the quiet moments that followed, you lay entwined, bodies glistening with sweat, and hearts filled with an unshakable bond. As the world outside the window gradually awakened, you and Kirishima knew that your wedding night was just the beginning of a lifetime of shared passion and love.

And as the first rays of dawn broke through the curtains, you and Kirishima lay tangled in each other's arms, the promises of forever etched in your hearts, and the memories of this unforgettable wedding night etched in your souls.

[foursaints]

humbly requesting the rosier twins hcs you have

mil i left this sitting for ages but it’s because i think about them too much </3. my favorites tbqh

i have this hc that twins are more common in magic families & fraternal twins don’t really exist. boy-girl pairs are exceptionally rare and they still come out nearly identical.

evan and pandora are raised by their 107-year-old grandparents in an old pureblood country estate, far from other children. rosier estate is dusty and eclectic and littered with these bottle-glass greenhouses

they’re BOTH trans. but they grew up so wrapped in each other, so used to trading places, when they are about 7 they resolve this by simply swapping names.

pandora is born “evan” and vice versa, and when they make the permanent switch no-one thinks twice

they’re scientists/inventors at their core. theyre lowkey neglected and free to explore the estate & experiment. very weird, morbid children. always want to know what’s at the center of things. they “hide” their experiments by nodding their heads demurely, saying they were at their studies, but they were at the brook catching newts to practice homemade spells on

evan is the healer & doctor. he cares about how bodies work. pandora is the chemist & spellmaker. she cares about how magic works.

they both are low empathy but pandora is more outwardly charming so it’s harder to tell.

VERY undersocialized. i think they were homeschooled until 3rd year & coming to hogwarts is a tough transition for them. at school they start switching places again (to get out of classes, take exams for the other, etc)

related to that: pandora is the talented duelist, the more magically gifted. when people describe evan as such, they were probably seeing her in his place. evan’s the more meticulous. his experiments don’t go awry like hers do

evan’s patronus is a two-headed viper & pandora’s patronus is a two-headed mongoose because even the projection of their souls come in two halves. do you get it now???

people make the apollo/artemis parallel a lot but i disagree. i see them as perses & pasiphaë, twin golden-headed sorcerers, children of the sun, entwined like minks.

[ptn-imagines]

Can you do Suspect R x pre amnesia! chief? ik there's not a lot of content for her but they give such domestic married wives energy like

LOOK AT THIS. its fine if u dont accept, ther are PLENTY other ptn womens i thirst after so....

Oh, I will absolutely write for Suspect R despite her lack of content. In fact, I was hoping someone would ask!

Due to the lack of content on both her and Chief pre-amnesia, I ended up focusing more on the feelings they may have shared more than anything else, using the glimpses of Shepherd-12 we see in Shalom's interrogation as a guide. If this isn't to your satisfaction, feel free to send in another request! Praying that chapter 14 marks the return of the OG wife...

Suspect R x Pre-Amnesia!Chief

Once upon a time, her name was the one they loved the most. In a world where everyone wanted to use or betray them, she was the only one they trusted whole-heartedly. Shepherd-12 adored her.

As truths were unveiled and lies became unmasked and Shepherd-12 became more and more jaded to the world, she was the only one spared of hissing and biting. Only she could melt the icy protective layer upon the Shepherd’s heart, for only she could be trusted with it. Only she had pure intentions.

Secret trysts and rendezvous, the Shepherd was always so tense until the face of the nameless official melted away to reveal their lover, who perched on the edge of their desk like she belonged there. She did belong there. And the Shepherd abhorred the idea of belonging to anyone, anyone except for her. They would give themself over to her in a heartbeat, and they would drown in her, and it would be a sweet way to die.

They are a creature of Mania, but this Sinner is their salvation. She makes them feel human in a way that nobody and nothing else does, and they know that fate will never be kind to them so they relish these precious moments, and they love her eternally and devotedly and without regret nor restraint.

She loves them in kind for she knows this is what they need. They will never speak their thank yous aloud but she knows; how could she not? Even if the world should revile them, see them as monsters (and it did), the two of them would have each other. They need nothing else.

She holds them so close as though she attempts to meld their flesh as one. They greedily kiss her deeper, hotter, as though trying to exchange pieces of their souls with each entwined breath. She is both the untamed tempest that will inevitably drown them and the singular piece of driftwood that keeps them afloat in the storm.

Nothing else matters. Nobody else matters. Let the world burn to ash. The Shepherd would welcome it. The world is rotten to the core. So are they. Only she remains pure in an endless sea of filth. Only she is the truth among the lies.

“My dearest, your heart is becoming so black,” she whispered one night, and they didn’t know it then but this would be the final time they saw her like this. Her fingers caressed their face and they purred, leaning into the touch.

“They don’t deserve any more,” they breathed, nails digging into her back as though they were afraid they might slip through their fingers. “They can go to Hell for all I care. You’re the only thing that matters.”

She smiled at this and pulled them into another deep kiss. This one felt different, like a goodbye, but it was still filled with every ounce of passion and fire and desire and need and belonging they had come to expect. “You know it won’t end like this.”

“I know.” They detest the fact. She makes it bearable. She’s the only reason they haven’t torn the world asunder yet, because she is part of that world. “But you’ll be there, won’t you?”

She smiled. “Always. Don’t sleep for too long, or I might have to come and get you myself…”

…

Shepherd-13 always wakes from the dreams of these memories too soon, these ghosts banished with the rise of the sun over this corrupt city.

What was her name?

If they could choose anything to remember, it would be this.

[snowandsage]

Yearning

I yearn for you.

I yearn for you with an intensity that mirrors a mosquito's insatiable thirst for blood on the first summer evening – a wild, desperate hunger that devours me whole. A hunger that leaves me frantic and consumed by an unquenchable desire.

I wake each morning to find you lingering in the shadows of my thoughts. Your spirit dances through my dreams, a haunting reminder of your presence; or rather lack thereof.

In my dreams, we share a quiet life together.

We reside in a small cottage tucked away amidst the trees, where deer roam through the thicket and vibrant butterflies dance joyously in the warm air.

We spend our days wandering barefoot throughout the creek, our laughter echoing as we collect shimmering river stones and splash each other playfully. As day fades to night, we dance hand in hand under the luminous moon, our hearts entwined in a timeless dance of love.

Your laughter echoes deep in my core, a haunting melody as vibrant and intoxicating as the first autumn day that I was graced with its presence. It weaves through my soul like a broken music box, endlessly trapped in a loop; a delicate sound infused with a hint of madness and raw feminine rage.

I think of you when I drive past a field of flowers. I envision you there, a gentle breeze playfully tousling your wild hair, the golden sun wrapping you in a warm embrace.

I imagine myself there too, running toward you with open arms, my heart pounding fiercely with the ache of finally finding my way home to you.

It strikes me now that I have yet to witness you amidst a field of vibrant flowers. This is not a mere memory; it is a vision, delicately woven from the threads of my imagination. It stirs a profound ache within me, a hope so vivid and alive, yet so painfully absent from the harshness of reality.

I have conjured a version of you – a version of us – a beautiful illusion that lives only in the depths of my soul. A version that is forever out of reach, destined to remain a fantasy.

I see now that I do not yearn for you after all.

I yearn for a version of you that exists solely in the realm of my mind. A vision crafted from longing and soul-wrenching desire.

[babybemydownfall]

things that shimmer in the dark Part II: Rhys ( Part I - Part III ) “I’m thinking that I want you. And if you drop that towel to the floor, I will have you.”  NSFW, as always. Notes under the cut. Or read on AO3.

Notes: Here you go! It was really interesting to imagine Rhys's feelings for Feyre so early in their story. And to consider how he might react post-UTM. So I hope you enjoy my interpretation. Now I feel like I might keep going through ACOMAF, making them fuck at every available opportunity...

II

Lonely.

The word cut through me like the sharpest blade.

I had been so close - so close - to rejecting her advance. It would have hurt us both, and I knew she would not be quick to forgive, but it was the right thing to do. Any kind of sexual relationship between us was a colossally bad idea. She had barely started to recover from what happened under the mountain. Neither had I, if I was truly honest with myself. And on top of that, the world was going to hell. We had a gargantuan fight ahead of us, with very few allies and a plan that was almost doomed to fail before we’d even begun.

But Feyre. Beautiful, exquisite Feyre.

She knew me better than she realised. She had sliced into my very core with that single word, leaving me shattered, my blood spilt at her feet.

I was desperately lonely. I had been for most of my life, but especially the last half-century.

And I wanted her.

I wanted her to know me, to know everything. I wanted her to see all of me, the good and the evil, the dream and the nightmare. I wanted her body, her mouth; her fingernails on my skin and her sounds collecting in the all warm, dark spaces between us. I wanted to make her come, to make her smile. To feel joy again, together: every day, for the rest of our lives.

My Feyre.

My mate.

And that was the thing - she had no idea. I couldn’t tell her, not yet. Not when she had been destroyed by Amarantha, by Tamlin; when she had lost everything she thought she’d known and been flung into my world, her mortal heart and Faerie soul destined to be entwined with mine forever. I couldn’t fuck this up. I needed her. Every living being who opposed the King of Hybern needed her.

But she was right. It would be so nice to feel something good, just a for a little while. I had spent my whole life sacrificing myself again and again, selflessly, in servitude of my people. And I would gladly go on doing so until I took my very last breath. But I had also suffered - more than enough. More than I could bear, sometimes.

I refocused on Feyre, standing in front of me in her bathroom, wearing only a towel. She was the most stunning creature I had ever laid eyes on. I had thought it the first moment I saw her, long before I knew she was my mate, and I had wanted her every day since then. And here she was, offering herself to me. Wanting me, in all my darkness and destruction.

The feel of her was still on my fingertips, imprinted there forever; the heavenly scent of her desire filled my nose, making my mouth water. I had been hard for her from the moment she asked me to stay - at the mere thought of her sitting naked just a few feet away. I should have said no, invented some excuse to disappear, but she needed a friend and I couldn’t refuse her. I would never be able to.

Like when she asked so innocently for me to wash her back.

My mistake was touching her with my hands. As soon as we connected so intimately, I was lost. And then I felt her arousal burst to life along our bond, and she moaned… And by all the gods, I nearly lost my fucking mind.

“What are you thinking?” she asked me now, and I realised I’d been silent for too long.

She was standing so close. I was desperate to touch her but I knew that, just like in the bathtub, once I did I wouldn’t be able to stop. And I had to know she was sure. Because a part of me suspected that when we’d had our first taste of each other, nothing would keep us apart.

“I’m thinking that I want you,” I told her simply, honestly. “And if you drop that towel to the floor, I will have you.” Fire blazed in her eyes. “But if we do this, things might get complicated. If the others find out…”

She shook her head. “It’s just sex, Rhys. Gods, we might all die soon. I need to feel something again. Something good.”

“Oh Feyre darling,” I sighed. “You have no idea how good I can make you feel.”

“That’s very… arrogant.” A spark: of playfulness. Of the Feyre I adored most of all.

I held her gaze, trying not to smirk. “Would you like me to prove it?”

She raised her hands, hovering them just over my biceps - as if she, too, knew that one touch would mark the beginning of the end. I waited patiently. I had yearned for her for so long, I could go another few minutes. And I needed her to make the first move, to show me that she was certain, that she wouldn’t regret this.

I watched as she took in my chest where my shirt was open, the swirls of black ink spread over tanned muscle. Cautiously, she reached out her fingers and placed them on my warm skin, tracing the Illyrian patterns. My heart beat wildly beneath them.

I didn’t know what she thought about me - if she was still in love with someone else; if she had ever considered loving me instead. But when she looked up again, I saw curiosity: about the possibility of me, of us.

I saw hope.

And then she said softly: “Rhys… I would like you to kiss me.”

And every remaining ounce of my hesitation vanished.

I reached for her waist, pulling her to me. Her eyes widened as she felt my hardness against her belly. They stayed open, fixed on mine, as I leaned down and lightly, tenderly, pressed my lips to hers. The world stilled; disappeared. I held her in that moment, the single most important one of my life so far, and saw so much in her blue-grey gaze: surprise, desire. Trust.

She trusted me not to hurt her, not to break her even further - and that meant more to me that I could put into words.

Then her eyelids fell shut and her mouth opened, claiming me. I felt her hand go to the back of my neck as her body bowed into mine, as she kissed me hungrily, her tongue sweeping over my lips and then past them as I submitted to her completely. The embers of lust in my blood roared to life again.

I walked her backwards into her bedroom, my fingers buried in her hair, cradling her head as I ravished her. She was the sweetest, sexiest thing and I already felt frenzied, desperate to have her, to make her mine. She matched me moan for moan, her nails clawing at my shoulders and arms, her teeth grazing my lips in such a way that made me want to bite her.

Outside of those years underground, I had always loved sex - in all its forms. Particularly hard, fast, untamed. I liked to be rough, to scratch and bruise, to leave my mark. Inside this perfect body was a feral animal who loved being let out to play. But only ever with permission - and I was so lost in Feyre already, I hadn’t warned her; hadn’t asked what she wanted from me, beyond feeling good. There were a thousand ways I could make that happen. But, at least this first time, I wanted to let her choose.

I managed to slow us down, to extricate myself from her frenzied kisses and draw back for air. She looked so fucking hot, dazed and aroused, her lips swollen and wet from my mouth. My hips twitched and we both groaned.

“I wear a lot of masks. As you know.” My voice was gravelly, low. “Who do you want me to be today?”

What do you need? Tell me, and I’ll gladly give it to you.

I could see she understood. She had encountered many sides of me already, from cruel to relaxed to pure, unadulterated power. I knew that I fascinated her. She had no sides at all, no masks. She was always true to herself, and I both envied and marvelled at her.

Her eyes scanned my face, back and forth. I wondered what she was looking for; if she had found it when she said quietly: “I want… the Rhys who holds my hand in the dark. Who kneels before me and calls me his salvation. Who looks at me like he cares about me.”

There was emotion there, in her voice, in the way her fists curled into my shirt, holding on. But there was also enormous strength in her vulnerability; fierceness in her honesty. It made me want her even more.

“I do,” I breathed, allowing myself to be honest in return. “I do care about you, Feyre. More than you know. More than I should.”

She continued to stare at me. I could hear, feel, her heart racing - but if she was scared by my words, she didn’t show it. Then she asked: “What about me? What do you need from me?”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Is there anything you don’t want me to do? Anything that will… trigger bad memories?”

It took a second for me to realise what - who - she was referring to. I had never been asked by a partner what I wanted, or didn’t want. Oh Feyre.

“You’re talking about Amarantha?” I clarified.

“Yes… her.” Then she flushed. “Although maybe you’ve been with someone else since her, before me. Who am I to-”

“I haven’t.”

She had no idea how much she had changed my life. How much I loved her already.

“I am very good at compartmentalising - as you saw inside my mind. If I dwelt too much on things in my past, I would have been killed or captured a hundred times by now.”

“That’s why you can say her name as if it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. But I don’t give it any power over me.” I held her lovely face in my hands, brushing my thumbs over her cheeks, her lips. “Thank you for asking, but I don’t think about her. Especially not with you in my arms. You are so beautiful, Feyre.”

Her fingers curled gently around my wrists and she almost, almost smiled. Suddenly it was harder to breathe. I was running out of patience for conversation, but there was one final apology I had to make.

“Until you, under the mountain,” I murmured, “I hadn’t kissed anyone for more than fifty years.”

Feyre looked stunned.

“Not once,” I confirmed. “And I am sorry for the way I kissed you down there. I was jealous and pissed off.” My gaze fell to her mouth. “Please allow me to make it up to you.”

There was a pause: the last deep inhale before the dive. Then we reached for each other at the same time. The first kiss was soft and tender, because I loved her. I couldn’t say it so I had to show her, just once.

The second was our surrender.

Her hands pulled at my clothes as our passion flared again, as her tongue fought mine, as the bond between us melted into pure fire. I helped her rip off my shirt, buttons flying; felt her palms on my skin and growled into her mouth. She reached down, her fingers snaking along my length and then around, gripping me through my pants, and I had to break away from her, to cry out to the ceiling as I hardened even further.

“Fuck, Feyre.”

She looked at me; looked down at my bare torso, at my huge erection tenting the fabric, her eyes widening as she took me in. Clearly she hadn’t quite been expecting this. I couldn’t help but smile, even as she continued to gently stroke my cock. I loved seeing her want me so obviously. I loved being desired by her.

I let my hands glide down the sides of her neck to her chest; leaned forward and followed them with my mouth. I kissed all the way along the line where her towel sat; lifted her arms up above her head - partly because I couldn’t focus with her attention below my waist - and held her gaze as I slowly unwrapped her.

I swore again as her incredible body was revealed to me. No paint this time; no sheer fabric, no wine, no shame. Just acres of her soft skin and the black tattoos snaking down her left arm, onto her hand. Tying her to me. Making her mine.

Her perfect breasts rose and fell with her heavy breathing; her rosebud pink nipples were hard and begging to be sucked. And so I did, swirling my tongue over the right first, then the left. The sound she made was so erotic and I felt her entire being, including our bond, tremble. She was exquisitely sensitive here. I stored that piece of knowledge away, hoping I would get the chance to use it again in future.

I trailed my lips lower, moving to my knees before her - the second time in the space of a few hours. I had never knelt to anyone before and now I was making a habit of it. Feyre Archeron was very, very dangerous - and I didn’t care at all. She had curves now, flesh on her bones, her waist and hips and thighs, and I kissed and licked every inch of her as her fingers tangled in my hair, as she continued to whimper and shake. I could smell her arousal as I moved ever closer, and I knew she was soaking wet for me. Gods, I felt like I had been starving and she was the feast. The only meal I would ever want again.

And, like a feast, I wanted her spread out before me.

I stood suddenly and picked her up, carrying her the few steps to her bed. When I lay over her and kissed her again, I was amazed at how seamlessly our bodies fit together, as if they had been made this way. Perhaps her Fae form really had been Made just for me. It certainly seemed like it. Her breasts fit just right in my hands; her legs wrapped around mine and she shifted her hips and the length of my cock sat perfectly along the apex of her thighs, my base pressing right up against her clit. The noise she made into my mouth as she ground helplessly against me came from deep, deep inside her.

Just where I wanted to be.

But not yet. The temptation to vanish my pants and slide straight into her was almost too much, but there was one thing I needed first: a taste.

“Feyre,” I breathed, kissing her jaw, her throat, moving down her body. “You are so…” I sucked on her nipples again; grazed them with my teeth and her back arched off the bed. “Fucking…” I delved my tongue into her belly button, my fingers rolling her nipples now. “Sexy.”

I pushed her legs apart and knelt between them, letting my gaze roam greedily over every part of her. Her eyelids were heavy, her pupils dilated, her skin flushed the most delicious shade of pink. I could feel her throbbing, aching for release - just as I was.

“Rhys… please.”

I traced her entrance with the tip of my finger, so smooth and glistening beneath her neat strip of light brown hair. Her whole body tensed and she became wetter before my eyes. Mother above. I had never been so turned on.

“What do you want, Feyre darling?”

She couldn’t speak. I slowly pushed my finger inside her, all the way - she clenched around me and writhed and cried out. Fuck me, she felt unbelievable. My cock twitched, desperate to feel her, to be buried deep inside her heat.

I added another finger, sliding in and out a few times before circling her clit, slick with her own fluid.

“Rhys!” she gasped, and I had to hold her down with my other hand to stop her climbing off the bed.

“Does this feel good, beautiful? Do you want to come like this?”

“Yes. Yes.”

Part of me wanted to take my time, to tease her some more - but we were both nearing the edge of our sanity. So instead I slid my arms beneath her thighs, gripped her ass in my hands and lifted her pussy into my face. Our shared groan as we connected was utterly indecent.

I kissed her cunt like I kissed her mouth, sliding my tongue over her again and again, sucking on her softly. Her hips and breathless moans were rhythmic and I matched them, feeling her orgasm building, her pleasure hurtling towards me along the bond, her shield non-existent. Selfishly I did take a moment to really taste her, trailing my tongue down her folds and plunging it inside her, devouring every sweet drop. I knew she would be incredible but I didn’t expect to be this overwhelmed. I wanted this, wanted her, every day. Forever.

She groaned my name again and I returned my attention to her clit, licking and sucking in time with the thrusting of my two fingers into her. She was so taut, so close to the edge. I blindly reached up my free hand and found her breast, brushing my thumb over her nipple, pinching it. My pace never faltered.

She came barely a minute later. I felt the moment she hit her peak; the moment she started to fall down, weightless, over the other side. Her pleasure became mine, crashing over me like a tidal wave as she exploded into nothing but pure sensation. The whole of Velaris must have heard her cries. My cock ached like never before and I would have come too had I had any kind of friction there.

It took a while for her to quieten, to finally still. I kissed her thighs, her abdomen; rose over her and waited for her eyes to open, completely in awe of how stunning she was, of how much I loved taking her to such a blissful, otherworldly place. Of how much I loved her, full stop.

“Feyre,” I breathed. “Look at me.”

She did, and my heart constricted. Whatever was blossoming between us, she felt it too. I could see it right there, in the hazy blue-grey of her gaze.

“That was… You were…” Her hands cupped my face. “I can’t even-”

“It’s okay,” I said, unable to hold back my smile. “Your shield disappeared. I felt everything.”

She blushed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was… very enjoyable.”

She glanced at my lips. She hadn’t even tried to restore her mind’s protection, so I knew exactly what she wanted.

More.

“Fuck,” I growled, and claimed her in a fiery kiss.

Our bodies moved together now like they’d been lovers for years. Her limbs encircled me; I let her roll us so she was on top, straddling my waist, our mouths still joined in messy, tongue-filled kisses. Her breasts pressed against me and I could feel the wetness of her pussy on me through my cotton pants.

With a single thought, they were gone. Feyre paused, looking at me in surprise as she suddenly felt the warmth of my skin against hers. Then her eyes darkened even further as she sat up. She took my cock in her hand, circling her thumb over the tip, spreading my fluid around before she began to stroke me up and down. I wanted to look at her as she did, to let her see how absolutely she had bewitched me, but it was impossible. It felt too fucking good.

“Stop,” I hissed just seconds later. “I’m too close. I need to be inside you.”

“Rhys,” she sighed. I managed to watch again as she rose up, positioning herself above me. When she sank down slowly, allowing herself to accommodate me inch by inch, my breath came out in a gasp and my muscles actually trembled.

“Holy Mother, Feyre.”

She braced her palms on my chest and began to move on me. She was drenched, and so fucking soft and tight. I let her continue for a few moments, let her adjust to my size, before saying: “I need to fuck you. Are you ready?”

She bit her lip and nodded. I braced my feet on the bed and gripped her hips as I began to pound up into her. I was big, and her body was tense as I stretched her open. “Relax,” I breathed, and then I felt her do just that, felt her gush even more wetness over me, and every rapid thrust took me deeper and deeper - and Feyre screamed like I’d never heard before as she came again.

It surprised us both. It also brought me so close to orgasm that I couldn’t hold on much longer. I briefly extricated myself so I could lay her on her back and kneel up before her, lifting her hips and wrapping her legs around my waist. I leaned down to kiss her as I buried myself in her again. I could feel everything slipping away - my grip on my power, my glamour, my mind. There wasn’t enough air inside her mouth so I drew back, drowning in her eyes instead as I fucked her. I could sense darkness and night seeping out of me; knew she saw it too, although she didn’t look away from me.

And then I felt my wings fighting to materialise, their heavy weight pushing at my back, and out of nowhere I was thinking about Amarantha, about how I had always kept them hidden from her, and suddenly everything inside me went very still.

Feyre looked alarmed when I stopped moving. But then her face changed, and I realised that for the first time in my life, my shield had slipped - and she knew exactly what horror had just unfurled inside my head. I slammed it back into place but not before she saw the red hair, the naked curves spread out on black silk sheets. Not before she felt the cruelty and control; the hatred I had for my captor, for myself.

Fingertips brushed lightly over my forehead, along my cheekbones, my jaw. “It’s me. Feyre.” There was so much tenderness in her voice, her expression. My eyes refocused on hers. “It’s just us here,” she whispered. “Feyre and Rhys. Just us. Okay?”

She caressed the walls of my mind too, gentle and soothing. I wanted to lean into her, to purr. Before I knew it, the memories had disappeared into the abyss and all that was left was Feyre. She was everywhere, surrounding me, consuming me. And I was okay.

More than okay.

She kissed me with her eyes open, keeping me with her in the present. And then we started to move together once more, so perfectly matched in every way, and we didn’t stop until I roared, until my final thrusts pushed her over the edge again too.

Coming inside Feyre, with Feyre… there were no words. I was nothing but pure feeling. It was a high unparalleled: better than soaring through the sky on a cloudless day; better than all of my power channelled at once.

And it seemed to last an eternity.

Eventually, I moved to her side and drew her with me, our bodies still curled around each other as we slowly returned to earth together, unwilling and unable to be parted. The room was still and silent except for our heavy breathing; pale, mid-morning sunlight filtered through the windows, the world outside oblivious to the incredible thing that had just occurred.

The words came to me as I looked at Feyre’s gorgeous face: I felt at peace. Totally and utterly fulfilled. With any of my past lovers, the pleasure I’d found was purely in my body. But with her, it pervaded my mind, my heart. It filled up my soul, all the way to the brim, threatening to overflow.

And for the first time ever, I wanted to take down my shield. To let her see me. To see the truth.

But I didn’t. There were too many bright and dangerous things shimmering inside me: other words like mate and love. The image of her wearing my mother’s ring on her finger. The fact that I wanted to hold her, to cherish her, forever.

Feyre was first to speak, her voice barely there after all the noise she’d made. “Are you alright?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes,” I said truthfully. “I am so much more than alright, Feyre darling.” I lifted my fingers to her damp hair, pushing it back behind the point of her ear. “But I am sorry, for what happened there at the end. You were… so sensational, I lost control of myself. She suddenly appeared in my mind and I froze.”

“You don’t have to apologise, Rhys.” She looked down, once again lightly tracing my tattoos. It seemed like an age since she’d done so before. As far as I was concerned, everything had changed since then.

“I was worried I’d be distracted by Tamlin,” she confessed quietly.

“And were you?” Even though I had no right to, I felt sick at the very thought.

She was still staring at my chest, but I noticed her lips lift slightly at the corners. “Not at all,” she said softly. And then she looked into my eyes again and I could see she was starting to fall, like a star descending from the heavens. “You are… all-consuming, Rhys. I didn’t know I could feel so much. That was… so good.”

“It was,” I agreed. I nuzzled my nose against hers; held her gaze as I kissed her. “It was unbelievable."

When she spoke again, her voice was smaller. “I do feel like a betrayer, though.”

And I filled with rage on her behalf, because she was so extraordinary and he - he was nothing in comparison.

“Feyre,” I said sternly, willing her to believe my words. “You can do whatever you want. I don’t think you owe him anything. You don’t owe anyone. Even me.”

“I’m pretty sure I owe you two orgasms.”

I laughed again, loudly and unexpectedly. She rolled onto her back, covering her face with her arm. “Fuck. I am such a bad person.”

“You’re not.” I couldn’t help myself: I ran my fingertip all the way down the middle of her body, from her chin to her centre, watching as she shivered in my wake. “And if even if you were… I’m bad too. The baddest of them all.”

She looked at me very seriously and I had never before felt so bare, so completely exposed.

“Liar,” she murmured. “You are good, Rhys. Underneath it all. I know you pretend otherwise, and I understand why. But I see you.”

I could barely breathe. “And do you… like what you see?”

She laced her fingers through mine.

“Yes. I do.”

And then she smiled at me - a truly beautiful smile, all the way from her heart - and I knew I was fucked.

II

[hisui-dreamer]

ode to the prideful lion

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x gn!reader

Synopsis: despite what everyone said about him, he was absolutely perfect and you loved every bit of him

Tags: drabble, fluff, slightly poetic hehe, reader is a simp for Leona, bot proofread

Word count: 645

Notes: weee here's to my first fav in twst <3 happy birthday Leona! thank you for coming home in the jp server mwah mwah

Masterlist

Your lover is prideful, but behind that facade lies a vulnerability that tugs at your heartstrings. It's as if he carries the weight of his past on his shoulders, burdened by countless expectations since the moment of his birth. How could anyone treat him as inferior just because he was born second? It's unfair, and it hurts to think about the pain he endured.

Your lover is lazy, and you often have to motivate him to start another day of living. And yet, under the right circumstances, his laziness transforms into fierce determination. You rarely witness that competitive side, that clever and methodical nature, and it leaves you in awe of him every time.

Your lover is talented in magic, and that alone is an alluring quality. But it's not just his abilities that captivate me; it's the way he embraces his gift with nonchalant charm, even as he skips classes and takes naps. It's as if he knows his worth and doesn't feel the need to prove it to anyone. And yet, he yearns for recognition and seeks to prove himself as a leader.

Your lover is a complex puzzle, and you find yourself falling for every intricate piece of his being. From his aloof exterior to his caring and passionate core, you're enamored by the contradictions that make him who he is. Your lover is someone who deserves love and acceptance, and you want nothing more than to be the one to give him that.

Your lover has an undeniable love for sleeping and cuddling, and there's something incredibly endearing about the way he cherishes those quiet moments together as he pulls you in to sleep together. There's a sense of safety and tranquility in those cuddles, a feeling of being cherished and protected in his presence. And when you both drift off to sleep, his rhythmic breathing and the gentle rise and fall of his chest create a soothing symphony that lulls you into a peaceful slumber. In those moments, you feel truly connected, and the world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in each other's arms, basking in the simple yet profound joy of being together.

Your lover loves leaving love bites on you. Initially, you were taken aback by this intimate display of claiming, but over time, you began to understand that it's his way of showing affection and marking you as his own. Despite the possessiveness, you find yourself unable to be cross with him. There's something strangely endearing about his desire to assert his love in such a primal and passionate manner. Those love bites become a tangible reminder of his devotion and the depth of his emotions.

Your lover's warm embrace is like stepping into a cocoon of safety and affection. Despite his sometimes aloof exterior, when he wraps his arms around you, it feels as though all walls come down, and he lets you into his vulnerable core. The strength of his embrace conveys his desire to protect and cherish you. It's in those moments that you feel truly seen and understood, as if he's unraveling all the layers to know the real you. There's a captivating contrast between his carefree nature and the gentleness he exudes in those arms around you. It's as if he's trying to convey all the emotions he finds difficult to express through his actions, and you find solace and comfort in the depths of his warmth.

You love him with all his flaws and strengths. In his presence, you feel a sense of belonging, like two souls entwined in this chaotic world. You can't help but want to go back in time to be there for him, to support him in his darkest hours, and you know the best thing you can do now is remain by his side and support him through the present.

Your lover, is none other than Leona Kingscholar.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[tropicalscream]

recently came to the realization that im divorced.

both from talks witha friend but also after a stranger saw a post of mine and suggested a group therapy for divorced women

like me & her were together for 12 years, we lived together for 7, i proposed in our 5th year & she accepted. Our future was always us together no matter what, our souls entwined

like yeah we never officially had a wedding, legally and all but like what is that if not marriage?

tbh the only reason we didnt call each other wives was due to the core of the relationship still built on heteronormative standards

we eneded our engagement a couple years ago, then permanently split Sept 2024 after a house fire

it wasnt working out & we both saw if it continued on that path it would of festered & become Toxic. we didn't want that. so we talked & came to the mature mutual understanding to save our friendship we had to end things

[zhn6104]

Your presence, a silent storm, pierces my core,

Mingling shadows and light into a symphony only we comprehend.

You are the tempest that unearths depths where primal truths reside,

While I reflect your abysses, embracing them, doors flung wide.

Your words, a dagger’s whisper, slice yet leave no scar,

Taking root in my veins like ancient oaks’ gnarled embrace.

We are twin voids, spiraling in eternal, gravitational dance,

Where every fall is ascent, and pain—a rebirth’s trance.

You spin chaos into tapestries—blood and stars in stained glass,

And I trace within them a fate we’re bound never to sever.

We are flames devouring borders, melting “I” into “we,”

Even death becomes dawn to this endless winter’s decree.

Your name, a spell resurrecting demons from their crypts,

Yet in their eyes, I see you—the lone soul who dared claim my night.

Condemned to carry each other through epochs, curse and grace entwined,

For in eternity, you alone are my ruin… and my only shrine.

[laciefuyu]

「Their Origin? They originated from two gods, the God of Fragrance and the God of Music.

Both were in charge of Music, so they can also be considered "partners".

According to the legends, they fell in love, got married and performed for the gods together.

Perhaps that was why stories of them have been passed down as them being one entity.

Yes, people often have fantasies of the life of Gods, and even then, "love" is usually the end.

They walked upon the same path, met, got to know each other, fell in love and ended up spending the years together.

Their souls merged as one, spreading love and beauty throughout the world.

And now we, who have the privileged witnessing this legend are equally blessed....

We are blessed to have discovered a kindred soul, one so remarkably akin to our own, amidst the countless lives that surround us. 」

Okay so, I have to gush about this part for a bit. As always I love when they incorporate others (this time with gods) stories and means to be seen with Artemrosa dynamic, but I especially love the fact how much they are being partners is always one of the most constant because quintessential Artemrosa is having each other side by sides, spend the rest of life together, and shared the duty (therefore burden) while walked upon the path they've chosen. The best way to describe them is indeed partners.

At the same time I adore the whole soul merged as one too and a kindred soul akin to our own, which makes me recall Per Aspera Ad Astra:

That she would trust his interest and reputation as if it was hers and how he trusts her like he trusts himself.

Artemrosa has always been a sense of similarity which I always call them kindred spirits since I encountered them. Similar in their core ideals, who would fight justice for those who cannot fight it themselves, someone who couldn't stand the idea of being unable to help someone to fight their rights.

That's why no one but them would understand each other struggles better about the work they have, the path they've chosen, the battlefield they've taken more than each other. As a life partner and work partner their lives have become entwined as their existence has become an irreplaceable part of each other's souls.

This is also a good time to recall a certain line from Main Story Chapter 1:

"I need a mirror, not a clone. "

We always return full circle, and this is truly the spirit of live service games which is a continuation. Similar yet different, A mirror.

In the end, amidst countless lives, their souls have found each other as fates have brought them to the path of their encounters.

.

.

This is less coherent then I would like but just so you know the upcoming cards for Zuo Ran in glb server is totally something you all can look forward to. I love those cards so much and I hope when you get to read it, you will enjoy it as much as I do!

[fulminare-within-her-soul]

“Gather ‘round, and I’ll spin you the tale of a crow among ravens.”

(Content under the wall of text just in case. I do apologize if the artistic nudity makes anyone uncomfortable, thought this was tame and innocent enough to go without much censoring. Hopefully I don’t get in trouble for being an adult doodling a woman being…a woman. XD)

Wanted to share concept art of how I imagine Euphemia looks more towards her 20’s/30’s. Obviously these tattoos are always hidden under her clothes in public- but as she grows older, she wants something sentimental. Something that can’t be stolen or destroyed or lost, and figures she hasn’t been socially acceptable among the masses since she was around 15, so. XD

I also felt it important for the tattoos to be representative of actual witchcraft rather than Wizarding World lore, as the primordial magic she wields is…primordial. Raw, untouched, ancient. Has never nor will ever entirely conform to evolution. Have a summary of my notes, if you can’t read the cursive:

• The Hybridean Black’s head in front of the symbol for ancient magic sits over her left wrist and is essentially the opposite of a Dark Mark- which I have, at least for now- dubbed a “Splendor Insignia.” Euphemia’s soul is forever entwined with Eleazar’s (the dragon, not the dude), but as a deep, symbiotic relationship. They share each other’s strengths, thoughts, and many lesser instincts. Yes, this is based off of Christopher Paolini’s Inheritance Cycle. Go read it, shit changed my brain chemistry.

• My depiction of Euphemia’s wand, beechwood with a unicorn hair core. Not much to say there I haven’t already said. Honestly it was just a good space filler. XD

• The most prominent tattoo besides her Splendor Insignia is thirteen crows flying from her lower back around to just below her navel. This is in reference to the “Counting Crows” rhyme, a tarot spread.

• Pagan symbols for the elements run down her spine, Euphie’s compatibility with each House the element represents in order. So Air (Ravenclaw), Earth (Hufflepuff), Water (Slytherin), then Fire (Gryffindor). She’s the kind of person who believes all Houses have their own valuable contribution to the world and nobody can be the pure embodiment of any House, thus one should never be too boastful of their own.

• In the valley of her breasts sits the Triple Moon Goddess symbol, meshed with a pentacle. This is a sign of fertility, femininity and triumph.

[fictionlover100]

🌌 The Immortals’ Universe — World-building & Lore

Welcome to the hidden depths of Interview with the Immortals — where ancient magic breathes beneath modern life, and timeless beings walk quietly among us. This world is a tapestry woven from shadows, blood, and secrets. Dive in to discover the rules, mysteries, and powers that shape the immortal realm.

🧛‍♂️ Vampires & Immortality

The Enhypen members are centuries-old vampires, each marked by unique bloodlines and ancient curses.

Immortality is a double-edged sword: eternal life means endless memories, unending losses, and a hunger that never fully fades.

Their powers vary — from mind-reading and superhuman speed to elemental control — but bloodlust and the risk of losing oneself to the feral side is a constant threat.

Vampires must conceal their nature carefully, blending into modern society while navigating centuries of hidden politics and rival clans.

🔮 Magic & Curses

Magic flows through this world in many forms — from witches’ spells and reapers’ duties to time manipulation and soul-binding rituals.

Curses binded souls across lifetimes, creating loops of tragedy and fate that some characters desperately try to break.

Witches can wield time magic, but tampering with fate carries steep costs — sometimes slipping through timelines themselves.

Reapers maintain the balance between life and death, often caught between their supernatural duties and personal desires.

🔄 Reincarnation & Fate

Some souls are trapped in endless cycles, reincarnating with fragmented memories, drawn repeatedly to the same places and people.

Memory erasure, soul contracts, and forgotten pasts create emotional tension and mystery.

Love often transcends lifetimes, but breaking or changing fate is a dangerous, uncertain gamble.

🕯️ Hidden Societies & Clans

Beneath the surface, secret clans and mystical orders vie for power, knowledge, and control over the mortal world.

Some seek to protect humanity from supernatural chaos, while others manipulate events for their own agendas.

Loyalties are fragile, alliances ever-shifting, and betrayals frequent.

🌆 Modern-Day Setting

Despite their ancient origins, immortals navigate a contemporary world full of technology, social media, and everyday challenges.

The clash of old magic and new life creates moments of humor, heartbreak, and unexpected growth.

🔮 The Magic System — Four Core Systems

Bloodlines: Family lineage; powers run through bloodlines. Some are ancient and noble; others diluted and dangerous.

Rituals & Contracts: Old pacts with deities, spirits, or the dead. Must be signed in blood or soul; breaking them carries consequences.

Elemental Currents: Magic flows through earth, air, water, and fire; enhanced by celestial events, sacred places, or nature’s balance.

The Price of Death: Some spells require a life-for-life exchange; the ultimate cost.

⚠️ The Cost of Magic

Every act of magic has consequences. Those without ties to nature, blood, or death suffer most.

🌱 Beginner Casters / Non-Connected Beings

Often suffer curses or physical pain. In severe cases, spells backfire and kill the caster.

🩸 Healing Spells

The caster absorbs the pain or injuries of the healed. Emotional ties can intensify the transfer.

🌑 Dark Magic Usage (Curses, Soul Binding, Time Spells)

Causes rapid soul erosion. Leads to madness, bodily decay, and eventual death. Attracts dark entities or spirits that haunt the user.

🕯️ Rules & Limits

Fuel Sources:

Blood — especially potent in vampire magic, rituals, and healing.

Plant Life — used by witches and nature-aligned beings; certain herbs enhance or carry spells.

Time — some magic consumes hours or years of the caster’s life.

Ancestor Connection — only those tied spiritually or by blood to ancestors can cast certain rites safely.

Species-Specific Limits:

Vampires cannot cast witch spells — disconnected from living essence and nature.

Witches are deeply entwined with life force and earth — overuse physically ages them.

Overuse Consequences:

Visible decline: blackened veins, wrinkled hands, coughing blood.

Eventually leads to death, especially with forbidden or uncontrolled magic.

Forbidden Magic:

Resurrection — always leaves a cost; the returned are never the same, and something follows.

Time Spells — highly unstable; reality may fracture or snap back.

Soul Binding — considered an abomination; traps or merges souls unnaturally.

Intent & State of Mind:

Magic responds to clarity — calm, focused casters create stronger, cleaner spells.

Stress, fear, or emotional turmoil can cause spells to misfire or turn deadly.

Feel free to explore, ask questions, and delve deeper into this hidden world. Every secret revealed is just the beginning of another story. 🌙✨

eternally cursed taglist 💌 ... @bunniexoh @kkkkvvvg @sunoolver @calilovesdilfs @wynotcoconut @prkjihoonx @loverbyfate @ezekiel-bublz @gyusfavlover @delightfulchilddeer @euphylli @hunnerwhite @haesmore @wondash @yunieblushhh @onlymoon300 @glaciuswduo @add-this-to-that @wondoras @calilovesdilfs @wynotcoconut @haesmore @sunoolover @ellesophiacassie @jjongssaeng

[wolverenmayden]

The Eternal Thread: Life’s Sacred Covenant of Truth and Freedom

Across the boundless weave of time, the race must bear the sacred flame of life, where birth renews the fragile chain and truth ignites the heart’s profoundest depths within, justice, like a steadfast beacon, shines through layers of the soul’s intricate design, each trait a vibrant color blending to form unique and wondrous personalities, merit’s quiet strength uplifts the spirit’s core, as self-acceptance blooms like gentle light embracing all the varied hues of other lives with open hands, shielding hearts from hate’s cold shadows and breaking walls of cruel indifference through the steadfast laws of respect, where kindness guards the liberty we cherish, freedom pulses in the lifeblood of the world, an endless spark sustaining all that lives, compelling us to honor birth as sacred duty, carrying hope through future’s door, each soul a singular note within the grand eternal symphony, moving hand in hand along the path of justice, preserving life’s deep meaning through the ages yet to come, merit intertwined with respect beats steady as the drum of human kindness, while acceptance fans the glowing embers of connection that dissolve the chill of hate, hope rekindled in each newborn breath proclaims the truth that life’s great chain endures, shining bright with freedom’s radiant star to guide the generations’ march, beneath the layered depths of spirit lies the power born of love and truth combined, binding fragile worlds where courage, light, and purpose forge an endless path ahead, the chain of life must never break, for birth is key to unlocking time’s unfolding door, where every unique individual shines bright with freedom’s boundless flame, law protects the sacred right to live, humanity entwined by threads of kindness, respect constructing bridges strong to guard against the storms of hate and cold neglect, the heart’s pure justice leads us forth, the soul’s clear light reveals the way, uniqueness blazing brightly as a beacon in the dark to show the path to dawn, so every day is born anew with hope, the chain of life unbroken holds, sustained by birth and mutual love, the covenant of truth and liberty preserved, and freedom’s eternal flame burns bright within our spirits, shining on, a torch that guards the sacred truth of life against the passing shadows of despair.