SpectralOwls25
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It is hardly believable that Zandik carries many fond memories of the land that exiled him, its Archon, and most importantly, its people. The sun, however, discriminates against no one. That fact, Zandik is smart enough to recognize. And the sun of Sumeru is like no other.
Bookmarked by SpectralOwls25
29 Aug 2026
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Do fabrics remember the lives they once held? by dontleavemehanging
Fandoms: 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game)
29 Aug 2026
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Aether and Zandik's childhood friendship slowly blossoms into something deeper, only to be separated by time and fate. Centuries later, Aether meets a familiar face, but not the person he once loved.
Bookmarked by SpectralOwls25
29 Aug 2026
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The first time Skirk saw Dainsleif, what she immediately recognized wasn't his face.
It was his stance.
Her first day training with The Foul, he demonstrated this exact stance.
Skirk meets Dainsleif, and suddenly realizes many things about The Foul.
Translated from a LOFTER fic.
Series
- Part 2 of LOFTER - 呀呀呀
Bookmarked by SpectralOwls25
28 Aug 2026
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trace the arteries (lick them clean) by FableButt
Fandoms: 人渣反派自救系统 - 墨香铜臭 | The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
27 Aug 2026
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The walls, ceiling, and part of the floor had all been covered in more talismans, though these seemed older and Shen Jiu could not place their use. The room was also completely empty- save for the very center. A raised platform made of stone, as if it had been carved from the very ground itself. The artifact was sitting on top.
Shen Jiu had seen a few such things by this point, though this one still confused him. He had expected some weapon, a staff, or perhaps some mundane object given a new life.
Instead, the thing sitting on the stone platform was a coffin.
Shen Jiu is sent on a completely normal mission.
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Bookmarked by SpectralOwls25
28 Aug 2026
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His steps were light. Dottore closed the distance between them, with his back facing the Iriminsul.
If it's an interesting ending he wants, Pantalone can't think of anything more fitting.
He exhales, slow, and lets something in his chest settle into place. If was not grief, not yet, just the shape grief will eventually take. Then he bows. One hand drawn back against his ribs, the other extended, palm up, fingers loosely open, an invitation rather than a request. It is, he thinks, the most honest gesture he has offered anyone in decades.
“Dottore, humour me, will you?
_____
A Waltz in front of the Iriminsul
Series
- Part 1 of Dottolone...
Bookmarked by SpectralOwls25
28 Aug 2026