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ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
(BRIM AND EDGES, 01-18.) 🌫️🏚️
Come-hither edges, endlessly burying amongst the muddle and misfortunes that ensued, until a usual moratorium was disheveled. That hail was planned on a ceiling awakens our misery, pooled in merciless scars, and although the smallest hankering to bear out shall not be tranquil. The phantasmic are eerie, the path goes relentless, and bewilderment forms a paranoia. Yet these immaturity edges we might present to @TheRusteeze, howbeit illuminations have ever dimmed amongst room until the sound cannot draw nearer over the tongue and all musculature but some bond may oftentimes scatter above aches consummate, bestowed omen for asylum and till doomsday cheese-paring each other. Perhaps solely pathfinders were to succumb towards gruesome situations, at last amenable in year covetous.
EERIE MISDIRECTED,
@TheLichtheim.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
(BRIM AND EDGES, 01-18.) 🌫️🏚️
Come-hither edges, endlessly burying amongst the muddle and misfortunes that ensued, until a usual moratorium was disheveled. That hail was planned on a ceiling awakens our misery, pooled in merciless scars, and although the smallest hankering to bear out shall not be tranquil. The phantasmic are eerie, the path goes relentless, and bewilderment forms a paranoia. Yet these immaturity edges we might present to @TheRusteeze, howbeit illuminations have ever dimmed amongst room until the sound cannot draw nearer over the tongue and all musculature but some bond may oftentimes scatter above aches consummate, bestowed omen for asylum and till doomsday cheese-paring each other. Perhaps solely pathfinders were to succumb towards gruesome situations, at last amenable in year covetous.
EERIE MISDIRECTED,
@TheLichtheim.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
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Bonsoir, Lichies! Gonna share some pics of mine to prove my face card never declines 🔥
🔥7💋6❤4🏆4⚡3💘3
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(BRIM AND EDGES, 01-18.) 🌫️🏚️
Come-hither edges, endlessly burying amongst the muddle and misfortunes that ensued, until a usual moratorium was disheveled. That hail was planned on a ceiling awakens our misery, pooled in merciless scars, and although the smallest hankering to bear out shall not be tranquil. The phantasmic are eerie, the path goes relentless, and bewilderment forms a paranoia. Yet these immaturity edges we might present to @PromiseSeason @HusVomMeiers @BURNIIZE @Eeljes, howbeit illuminations have ever dimmed amongst room until the sound cannot draw nearer over the tongue and all musculature but some bond may oftentimes scatter above aches consummate, bestowed omen for asylum and till doomsday cheese-paring each other. Perhaps solely pathfinders were to succumb towards gruesome situations, at last amenable in year covetous.
EERIE MISDIRECTED,
@TheLichtheim.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Come-hither edges, endlessly burying amongst the muddle and misfortunes that ensued, until a usual moratorium was disheveled. That hail was planned on a ceiling awakens our misery, pooled in merciless scars, and although the smallest hankering to bear out shall not be tranquil. The phantasmic are eerie, the path goes relentless, and bewilderment forms a paranoia. Yet these immaturity edges we might present to @PromiseSeason @HusVomMeiers @BURNIIZE @Eeljes, howbeit illuminations have ever dimmed amongst room until the sound cannot draw nearer over the tongue and all musculature but some bond may oftentimes scatter above aches consummate, bestowed omen for asylum and till doomsday cheese-paring each other. Perhaps solely pathfinders were to succumb towards gruesome situations, at last amenable in year covetous.
EERIE MISDIRECTED,
@TheLichtheim.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
❤1
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Forwarded from Whispers from an Ancient Realm: The Mordis Family.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ
OWL WHISPERS. YOUR NIGHT IS WORDED. 🦉𑇣.. SHEDDED AND ASSEMBLED IN THE SOUL.
”What is family, if not forged beyond
blood? What is loyalty, if not proved
through the crucible of fate?”
Through the dusk-thick air, the owl calls not to all—only to those shaped by silence, sharpened by devotion. The gate does not swing wide; it creaks open for those fated to belong. No empty vows. No fragile bonds. We seek not the polished, but those softened by ache and sharpened by truth. The echoes welcome the forgotten lineages, those who left pieces of themselves behind in the name of duty, loyalty, or something softer.
Only for the ones who carry the weight of generations and yet walk lightly through smoke:
— The PARENTS (1980–1994), the keepers of lineage in their marrow.
— The YOUNGEST CHILD (2007–2010), still touched by dreamlight, yet forged in trials unspoken.
Send your reckoning
To our sentinel: @Mordsrbot.
We Are The Ones Who Don't
Forget, Even When We Were
Never Remembered.
ㅤㅤㅤ
OWL WHISPERS. YOUR NIGHT IS WORDED. 🦉𑇣.. SHEDDED AND ASSEMBLED IN THE SOUL.
”What is family, if not forged beyond
blood? What is loyalty, if not proved
through the crucible of fate?”
Through the dusk-thick air, the owl calls not to all—only to those shaped by silence, sharpened by devotion. The gate does not swing wide; it creaks open for those fated to belong. No empty vows. No fragile bonds. We seek not the polished, but those softened by ache and sharpened by truth. The echoes welcome the forgotten lineages, those who left pieces of themselves behind in the name of duty, loyalty, or something softer.
Only for the ones who carry the weight of generations and yet walk lightly through smoke:
— The PARENTS (1980–1994), the keepers of lineage in their marrow.
— The YOUNGEST CHILD (2007–2010), still touched by dreamlight, yet forged in trials unspoken.
“I am (NAME, USERNAME)—drawn not by longing, but by something heavier. On the night of (MUSE, BIRTH YEAR), I did not stumble. I answered. I walked into the night not to escape, but to return—to where my shadow was already waiting.”
Send your reckoning
To our sentinel: @Mordsrbot.
We Are The Ones Who Don't
Forget, Even When We Were
Never Remembered.
ㅤㅤㅤ
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Have a good rest, Lichies!
🕊6❤🔥5🆒5⚡3💘3❤2🔥2🎉2🏆2💋2
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ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
(BRIM AND EDGES, 01-18.) 🌫️🏚️
Come-hither edges, endlessly burying amongst the muddle and misfortunes that ensued, until a usual moratorium was disheveled. That hail was planned on a ceiling awakens our misery, pooled in merciless scars, and although the smallest hankering to bear out shall not be tranquil. The phantasmic are eerie, the path goes relentless, and bewilderment forms a paranoia. Yet these immaturity edges we might present to @Schauferfamilie, @THIRENSOLES, @Beomquesters, howbeit illuminations have ever dimmed amongst room until the sound cannot draw nearer over the tongue and all musculature but some bond may oftentimes scatter above aches consummate, bestowed omen for asylum and till doomsday cheese-paring each other. Perhaps solely pathfinders were to succumb towards gruesome situations, at last amenable in year covetous.
EERIE MISDIRECTED,
@TheLichtheim.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
(BRIM AND EDGES, 01-18.) 🌫️🏚️
Come-hither edges, endlessly burying amongst the muddle and misfortunes that ensued, until a usual moratorium was disheveled. That hail was planned on a ceiling awakens our misery, pooled in merciless scars, and although the smallest hankering to bear out shall not be tranquil. The phantasmic are eerie, the path goes relentless, and bewilderment forms a paranoia. Yet these immaturity edges we might present to @Schauferfamilie, @THIRENSOLES, @Beomquesters, howbeit illuminations have ever dimmed amongst room until the sound cannot draw nearer over the tongue and all musculature but some bond may oftentimes scatter above aches consummate, bestowed omen for asylum and till doomsday cheese-paring each other. Perhaps solely pathfinders were to succumb towards gruesome situations, at last amenable in year covetous.
EERIE MISDIRECTED,
@TheLichtheim.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
🔥3
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