This media is not supported in your browser
VIEW IN TELEGRAM
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤVARNISHED OF MEMORY
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ(18th.) : Letter.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWhere the brush still breathes?
It hung where time moved slowly—dust drifting like whispered prayers, golden light flickering across its worn frame. The painting, old as memory, stared back not with eyes, but with something deeper, the ache of what once was. Brushstrokes, though cracked, still breathed with intention. And still, it spoke. To those who dared linger. To @HouseOfLuthien, @RuhmerAhl, @Ellvius, @Ostendl, @TheEdurne and @TheLachaise who stood before it in reverence, their reflections caught within the canvas’s quiet ache. No one remembered the artist’s name. But the soul? The soul remained—trapped, blooming, eternal. Proof that some beauty outlives even the hands that made it. With endless gratitude to all who wandered here, where this splendid memory shall forever cradle every journey taken and every generous spirit shared—bathed beneath the moonlight of joyful minds.
Signed in light and longing,
@KinOfGreesacht
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ(18th.) : Letter.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWhere the brush still breathes?
It hung where time moved slowly—dust drifting like whispered prayers, golden light flickering across its worn frame. The painting, old as memory, stared back not with eyes, but with something deeper, the ache of what once was. Brushstrokes, though cracked, still breathed with intention. And still, it spoke. To those who dared linger. To @HouseOfLuthien, @RuhmerAhl, @Ellvius, @Ostendl, @TheEdurne and @TheLachaise who stood before it in reverence, their reflections caught within the canvas’s quiet ache. No one remembered the artist’s name. But the soul? The soul remained—trapped, blooming, eternal. Proof that some beauty outlives even the hands that made it. With endless gratitude to all who wandered here, where this splendid memory shall forever cradle every journey taken and every generous spirit shared—bathed beneath the moonlight of joyful minds.
Signed in light and longing,
@KinOfGreesacht
❤2
This media is not supported in your browser
VIEW IN TELEGRAM
Forwarded from Sunrise on the Reaping: The Runeshard Household 🏹
⠀⠀⚔🛡 THE TRIAL HAS BEGUN 🛡⚔
❝ For those who stand not
above, but beside. ❞
We, the District Kin, are opening limited entry for selected individuals to join the movement. The Capitol will not decide who we are — we do. In this house, your worth isn't measured by noise, but by presence. By choice. By loyalty. By the quiet strength to stay.
We are seeking the following roles:
┊ ✦ PARENTAL FIGURE
(1985–1995)
steady hands, soft authority,
the quiet reason in the storm.
To Apply, Submit this Format to @RuneshardBot. Each district has its own position. Let’s survive—loudly, or in silence—but together.
Salutations, Kinfolk. With all my heart and soul I declare that I am (Name / @username), using (Muse + Line muse) as my face. I wish to join as a Parental. Regardless of what lies ahead, I pledge to move with loyalty, not just to the house, but to those within it⚔️ We await your arrival at the border.
Our house doesn’t promise ease.
But it promises truth, endurance, and belonging.
⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𖥸 The Quiet Rebellion
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ The District Kin 𖥸
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ @TheRuneshard
This media is not supported in your browser
VIEW IN TELEGRAM
Forwarded from The Heritage of Cherrilane.
Late afternoon felt extra chaotic fresh out of a photoshoot. Everyone starving, and Cherrilane's Shinyu deciding to order basically half the seafood section like it was nothing. The table ended up way too full, but somehow it matched the mood. Meanwhile, right in the middle of all the food, Greesacht's Youngjae and Cherrilane's Dohoon were busy messing with Clardforge's Jihoon for no reason except pure chaos energy. And of course, Cherrilane's Hanjin and Scalden's Kyungmin were already in “memory collector” mode, fighting for the best angle and snapping pics like it’s their mission in life. Just a loud, funny, comfy kind of dinner. The type you remember later and smile about. And somewhere between all the teasing and the clicking sounds of the camera, Clardforge's Jihoon muttered :
“Can’t I eat in peace for one minute?”
“Can’t I eat in peace for one minute?”
💘4⚡3🤩3🏆3🍓3👀3🆒3❤2❤🔥2🔥2👏2
This media is not supported in your browser
VIEW IN TELEGRAM
HEYHOO SACHIS AND MILLIONS!! this evening, I, Greesacht’s Sarang decided to go on a little snack run adventure with Vermillion’s Andy! he tried helping me choose at first, but after five minutes of comparing chips, he gave up and went to wait by the stairs LOLLL. while he was zoning out, I secretly snapped that picture of him! he looked like a lost puppy, it was hilarious :v while he was looking lost, I took my sweet time wandering through the snack aisle, picking anything that looked cute or yummy.
after stuffing our cart like we were preparing for a week-long mission, we headed to the riverside for a mini picnic because we didn’t want anyone from our families to ask us to share HEHE. the sky was already dark, city lights reflecting on the water, and we just sat there talking, eating way too much, and enjoying the calm breeze. it wasn’t fancy or anything, but it felt warm and easy just like one of those simple nights that end up becoming your favorite memory without you even realizing it.
after stuffing our cart like we were preparing for a week-long mission, we headed to the riverside for a mini picnic because we didn’t want anyone from our families to ask us to share HEHE. the sky was already dark, city lights reflecting on the water, and we just sat there talking, eating way too much, and enjoying the calm breeze. it wasn’t fancy or anything, but it felt warm and easy just like one of those simple nights that end up becoming your favorite memory without you even realizing it.
💘4❤3❤🔥3☃1⚡1🔥1👏1🍓1💅1
This media is not supported in your browser
VIEW IN TELEGRAM
Forwarded from Rosier of Gateau: Amaranthine Kin of Limerence.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
VALENTINE ARISES OF BAKERY (166) SOLEMN, ROSIER GATEAU.
The chocolate of lineage and letters of sweet things with near-mythic artistry converge into a singular tapestry of exalted sentiment. The spheres thickens with a warmth in grace of sanctuary season’s into a honours affection with something specials.
OPEN GATE. ♥︎’
FOR EVERYONE IN SOLEMNITY:
Soulful sweetheart. I’m (name of your muse, liner) ready-to feel the same reigns in love throughout something sweet &.’ warmth, I will be the hymns for @RosierGateau and forever will be remembered as (your name, @.)
The essence of emerges within reminiscent of hills, the morsel approached the delicate-sweetness in a grandeur alchemy ;
✶ Royal Dark Chocolate (1995-1999)
✶ Noir Chocolate (2000-2005)
✶ Blanc Chocolate (2006-2012)
─────────────────────────
ARDOURS IN CENTURIES. \ 📮 (2010) An emissary of a deeper interior world: Speech For Taken List. A phrases that inhales with the lines. Pralines on roses-splendour:
submit the forms into @RosierGateBot depth.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
This media is not supported in your browser
VIEW IN TELEGRAM
This media is not supported in your browser
VIEW IN TELEGRAM
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤVARNISHED OF MEMORY
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ(19th.) : Letter.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWhere the brush still breathes?
It hung where time moved slowly—dust drifting like whispered prayers, golden light flickering across its worn frame. The painting, old as memory, stared back not with eyes, but with something deeper, the ache of what once was. Brushstrokes, though cracked, still breathed with intention. And still, it spoke. To those who dared linger. To @LamkeFamilie, who stood before it in reverence, their reflections caught within the canvas’s quiet ache. No one remembered the artist’s name. But the soul? The soul remained—trapped, blooming, eternal. Proof that some beauty outlives even the hands that made it. With endless gratitude to all who wandered here, where this splendid memory shall forever cradle every journey taken and every generous spirit shared—bathed beneath the moonlight of joyful minds.
Signed in light and longing,
@KinOfGreesacht
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ(19th.) : Letter.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWhere the brush still breathes?
It hung where time moved slowly—dust drifting like whispered prayers, golden light flickering across its worn frame. The painting, old as memory, stared back not with eyes, but with something deeper, the ache of what once was. Brushstrokes, though cracked, still breathed with intention. And still, it spoke. To those who dared linger. To @LamkeFamilie, who stood before it in reverence, their reflections caught within the canvas’s quiet ache. No one remembered the artist’s name. But the soul? The soul remained—trapped, blooming, eternal. Proof that some beauty outlives even the hands that made it. With endless gratitude to all who wandered here, where this splendid memory shall forever cradle every journey taken and every generous spirit shared—bathed beneath the moonlight of joyful minds.
Signed in light and longing,
@KinOfGreesacht