Recent bookmarks
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the tiles you travel on are white now, but what of your colour, o bishop? by escanoir
Fandoms: 崩坏:星穹铁道 | Honkai: Star Rail (Video Game)
23 May 2025
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Summary
A collection of vignettes taking place between the first bad thing that Sunday does and the next bad thing that Sunday does. Aboard the Express, that is.
Series
Bookmarked by bebek2
19 May 2026
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a thousand little pieces of marble, scattered across the floor by escanoir
Fandoms: 崩坏:星穹铁道 | Honkai: Star Rail (Video Game)
08 Jun 2025
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Summary
Sunday's regular chess matches with Welt had, thus far, went without incident. But as he should have known all too well by now, beautiful dreams only last for so long.
Series
Bookmarked by bebek2
19 May 2026
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a dogwood under twilight by soursprite
Fandoms: 崩坏:星穹铁道 | Honkai: Star Rail (Video Game)
25 Jul 2025
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Summary
Anxiety punched up his chest like the traitor that it was. Sunday didn’t need any reminding that this move was risky, drawing attention he neither needed nor wanted. He wasn’t even sure why the Trailblazers had agreed to such an impromptu transfer mid-season. Either they hadn’t thought it through, or they were desperate.
Sunday could relate.
Bookmarked by bebek2
19 May 2026
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the weight of all the world by ClockworkTiger
Fandom 崩坏3rd | Honkai Impact 3rd (Video Game), 崩坏:星穹铁道 | Honkai: Star Rail (Video Game)
12 May 2026
Summary
They were innocent children, once. But even across universes, some things are the same--and those innocent children shattered under the weight of their worlds.
But once the weight of the world is long gone, who best to pick up the pieces than one another?
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Welt Yang, Sunday, and how they let themselves heal together.
- Words:
- 112,779
- Works:
- 9
- Bookmarks:
- 42
Bookmarked by bebek2
19 May 2026
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oft the moonlit choir sings by soursprite
Fandoms: 崩坏:星穹铁道 | Honkai: Star Rail (Video Game)
30 Sep 2025
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Summary
In the days Sunday has spent in his company, he has shown neither proper terror nor reverence. No supplications. No trembling awe. Instead, he has dared to touch one of the Gentry, to press a damp washcloth to his fevered skin, to dress his wounds with earthy poultices, and to sit— uninvited, unshaken—by his bedside, quietly reading a book as if tending to a wounded hare.
The nerve of him.
A fae, a baron, and a crumbling old manor.
Bookmarked by bebek2
18 May 2026
