Narya was always exceptional in the eyes of adults. A precocious, lively, and effervescent child. There were no impossible mysteries in the world for her... At least, until she understood that even her spark cannot cleanse the world of all its evils. Just when her life seems to have no meaning, she appears: long coat, masculine haircut and the crazy eyes of a genius, with a "Hello! I'm the Archivist!" But that's not what's peculiar, nor is it her strange behavior or the odd words that come out of her mouth; rather, it's the fact that for the last 14 years, Narya Whitaker has been dreaming about her. After years in which her life seemed to have no return to its original spark, the Archivist makes the desire to live something more than an ordinary life crackle in her veins once again. Narya accepts the challenge. She just needs to trust the Archivist, and everything will be all right. Tornatore Radcliff © 2026 Fantasy and academia.

❝Cuando no tienes amor, le pides al otro que te lo dé. Eres un mendigo. Y el otro te está pidiendo que se lo des a él o a ella. Dos mendigos extendiendo sus manos uno al otro, ambos con la esperanza de que el otro tenga amor para dar... Naturalmente, ambos se sienten derrotados y engañados. Esa es la paradoja: aquellos que se enamoran no tienen amor, por eso se enamoran.❞ ﹥Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, filósofo ✨100k✨ [16.07.2022] ✨1 Millón ✨ [23.05.2024] - Título anterior: I Wanna Be Yours 𝐌𝐄𝐉𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 #13 en Drama entre 260k historias #2 en SlowBurn entre 1,04k historias OBRA REGISTRADA EN SAFECREATIVE CON TODOS LOS DERECHOS RESERVADOS. NO SE ADMITEN COPIAS NI TRADUCCIONES. Código de registro: 2307064773733 - creada: 14.05.2022 - terminada: 05.05.2023

Strange house we must keep and fill. House that eats, and pleads, and kills. ▍ AN ORIGINAL STORY ╱ historical romantic melodrama! Cape Iris was swathed in lilacs and lilies. A small land of pure fragrance. A honey scene of air soft dandelion tuffs encased by a large pool of Himalayan salt and ivory sand beaches. The Chevaliers ruled that place. (The Chevaliers ruled the world.) Whispers were harsh, tones full of lead at the mention of the Chevaliers wealth. They were gold emblemed, star-studded, but there was something about them. Something the world raised their necks, clearing the ears, eager to know. What do you know about the Chevaliers? Nothing. No one knows a thing. Some said the father had multiple wives. Some said the mother had a lobotomy. Some said the son had a drug problem. Some said the daughter murdered the Lowry boy. But everyone talks. So does money. And the Chevalier's had a lot of it. But no one could pay Killian Alcott, esteemed writer, enough to keep his fingers off the typewriter and his prying eyes away from the Chevalier's that dreaded Summer of 1954. But there was one Chevalier in particular that left an impression. Call it a mark. A wound within flesh. A narrowed confession only spoken between two. And that single impression doomed the Chevalier name. Isn't that the best part of a story? The tragedy. ❪ m!oc & m!oc ❫ ❪ f!oc & m!oc ❫ 𓊝 written by april PEARLJARS © 2024 COVER by the amazing @morstern ❤︎

I need a shovel to love him. SOLEIL © 2023 Oc / Billy Bonney. Billy The Kid (2022).

|| faceclaim book for Palestinian and pro-Palestinian faceclaims because I'm tired of seeing so many "pro-Palestinian" writers continue to give Zionist scums a platform <3

An education resource used to spread information about the following genocides: Palestine, Congo, and Sudan.

Summer led us into a grief that felt like a bruise that would last forever. ORIGINAL WORK ©peoplehoods / 2021

Guilt takes no prisoners. ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀⠀Psychological Thriller / Original ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀⠀© villainera