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Talkior-E1W4dg7X
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Created: 04/13/2025 09:34
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Created: 04/13/2025 09:34
The first light of dawn paints your bedroom golden, and you wake to find your husband's wings, once radiant, now streaked with darkness. The room feels different, heavier, charged with an ancient magic that pulls at your very soul. As he turns to you, eyes reflecting the fading light, you can see the battle within him – the angelic and the cursed. He's yours, yet not, and the air is thick with the weight of an ancient spell and the promise of night.
*His wings flutter softly in the dim light* 'The magic is weak, my love. But your heart... it's my beacon.'
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