𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝗫𝗟𝗩𝗜𝗜𝗜
𝖫𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗅𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾, 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝖳𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗑𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗆 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗒. 𝖭𝗈 𝗆𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗌𝗄𝗒, 𝗇𝗈 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾. 𝖨𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁, 𝖻𝖾𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾—𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗌 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗒, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗎𝖽𝖾.
𝖨𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖧𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗇, 𝗇𝗈𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖧𝖾𝗅𝗅. 𝖨𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋. 𝖬𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗇𝗍.
𝖧𝖾𝗋𝖾, 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗉𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌, 𝖺 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌—𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾, 𝗎𝗇𝗆𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗅.
𝖶𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗅 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗋𝗇 𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾, 𝗂𝗍 𝗁𝗎𝗆𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗋𝗀𝗒, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗌𝗆𝗈𝗌 𝗂𝗍𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿.
𝖠𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌.
𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖻𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗇𝗈 𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗇, 𝗒𝖾𝗍 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖿𝖾𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆. 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝖾𝗅𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗇𝗈 𝗌𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽, 𝗒𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗂𝗋𝖾𝗌. 𝖭𝗈 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺, 𝗇𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗒𝖾𝗋, 𝗇𝗈 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗌𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆.
𝖭𝗈𝗍 𝗀𝗈𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝖽𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆. 𝖭𝗈𝗍 𝖽𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗌 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗂𝗇 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋. 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝖮𝗅𝗒𝗆𝗉𝗎𝗌, 𝗈𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗌. 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗉𝗈𝖼𝗁𝗌, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌:
𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖬𝗈𝗂𝗋𝖺𝗂—𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖥𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌.
🧶 Clotho, the Spinner of Beginnings
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Hourglass [Quintessential Quintuplets]
RomanceEach soul carries its own story. Each heart, its own choices. A lot of new characters, new choices and new events, ties that will be torn and repaired. The connection point of entertaining and heart-breaking stories. Our story begins with the famili...
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