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Tbt. The sky is a paid actor tho.
β‘2π₯2π2π2π2π2π2
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happy sundaaay misty π€βοΈ
3π3π³2π2π2β€1π1
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γ
€γ
€
β THE LAST MISTLETOE LETTER π²
γ € BY IVY, SNOW, AND STARLIGHT
γ €γ €γ €γ €γ €γ €"Ce Qui Glace, Garde."
γ €γ €βββββ FROM THE GLACIENT VALES OF LYRITHA | "Where the Auroral Drowse Lies Low." β Enshrined beneath a sleepbound sky and flanked by frost-laden everboughs, Lyritha glimmers carved of ivoried silence, star-thistle air, and old hymns half-remembered. In this sepulchral hush, we send a hushfold vow pressed in snowmelt ink & imbued with longing and lucence.
To @TheAescendants, @TeenBuds, and @Ectura. Let the hush enwreathe you in vellum-glow and silken quiet, every flurry descending as a sanctified oblation, the marrowroot of solstice clasping you in ineffable balm. Even as carols fade into aurora and shadows steep the eaves, devotion abides.
γ €γ €γ €γ €γ €γ €γ € By holm and hearth,
γ € γ € γ €γ €γ €γ € @MISTLESOIR
γ €γ €
β THE LAST MISTLETOE LETTER π²
γ € BY IVY, SNOW, AND STARLIGHT
γ €γ €γ €γ €γ €γ €"Ce Qui Glace, Garde."
γ €γ €βββββ FROM THE GLACIENT VALES OF LYRITHA | "Where the Auroral Drowse Lies Low." β Enshrined beneath a sleepbound sky and flanked by frost-laden everboughs, Lyritha glimmers carved of ivoried silence, star-thistle air, and old hymns half-remembered. In this sepulchral hush, we send a hushfold vow pressed in snowmelt ink & imbued with longing and lucence.
To @TheAescendants, @TeenBuds, and @Ectura. Let the hush enwreathe you in vellum-glow and silken quiet, every flurry descending as a sanctified oblation, the marrowroot of solstice clasping you in ineffable balm. Even as carols fade into aurora and shadows steep the eaves, devotion abides.
γ €γ €γ €γ €γ €γ €γ € By holm and hearth,
γ € γ € γ €γ €γ €γ € @MISTLESOIR
γ €γ €
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Forwarded from Dewmourne: Veil of Forgotten Wings
The evening carried a soft rhythm, not too late, just the right hour to wander without rush. I, Dewmourneβs Jihoon, took the lead with a casual pace, the quiet hum of the city folding into each step. The plastic bag in my hand rustled with the snacks weβd scavenged, little treasures of the night, while the streetlamps drew golden patterns on the pavement. It felt unhurried, a gentle outing stitched with the small delight of pausing for photographs and tasting the wind that only the night knows how to serve.
Beside me, Mistlesoirβs Hanjin walked with that familiar ease, hoodie pulled low, arms often full of more than he could comfortably carry. There was something endearing in the way he movedβhalf playful, half lost in thoughtβbefore syncing back to my stride. We werenβt chasing anything grand, only enjoying what the night offered: laughter tucked between silence, snacks shared like secrets, and the comfort of knowing companionship can make a simple stroll feel almost like a date with the world itself.
Beside me, Mistlesoirβs Hanjin walked with that familiar ease, hoodie pulled low, arms often full of more than he could comfortably carry. There was something endearing in the way he movedβhalf playful, half lost in thoughtβbefore syncing back to my stride. We werenβt chasing anything grand, only enjoying what the night offered: laughter tucked between silence, snacks shared like secrets, and the comfort of knowing companionship can make a simple stroll feel almost like a date with the world itself.
β€βπ₯5π4π3π3π3π2π³2π2π1πΎ1