dirtspell
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Oh. So it was going to end like this. Fated to meet her end in some miscreant’s shed, to be ground into a fish burger, stripped of her scales and sold in a can!
It seems the woes of a mermaid are never ending...
(The arlefuri Mermaid fic. dressed with angst, marinated in plot, and seasoned with some found family.)
Bookmarked by dirtspell
03 Aug 2026
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Arlecchino attempts to make amends, and Furina is left confused over how she truly feels.
- Language:
- English
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- 1/1
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Bookmarked by dirtspell
03 Aug 2026
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Please remember me as in a dream by arlecchumi
Fandoms: 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game)
10 Jul 2026
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As the finale of the prophecy fast approaches, Furina finds it difficult to keep the fraying threads of her sanity from becoming undone completely. After 500 years of performing, each day is a fight to make it to the next. Her only reprieve is the sanctuary of sleep, where she can set the mask down, if only for a short time. However, as the flood becomes imminent, a shade with a familiar face begins appearing in her dreams.
What she doesn't expect, is her visitor to still find their way into her subconscious, even after she had fooled fate.
Bookmarked by dirtspell
03 Aug 2026
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“Admissible” doesn’t mean forgiven. It doesn’t mean trusted, or wanted, or safe. It only means the question is allowed into the room.
Fontaine survived its prophecy. Furina, to her continuing surprise, survived Fontaine — the trial, the truth, the five hundred years of playing a role that nearly consumed her. Now she is learning how to be a person instead of a performance. Then the invitation arrives — from the woman who once mistook her restraint for weakness and left claw marks on her memory to prove it.
Arlecchino isn’t offering apology or friendship. She’s offering something stranger: a place to start, and the choice of whether to cross the distance.
Furina should refuse. It would be the simplest thing in the world.
Bookmarked by dirtspell
02 Aug 2026
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Snow came down over Nod-Krai thick and slow, and Sandrone was making the tea herself, exactly as demanded, because half an hour of arguing with Columbina had gone the way it always went.
"Two sugars~" Columbina sang from the armchair by the fire, folded into it with her feet tucked under her, holding a half-finished wooden puppet hand up to the light and wiggling its fingers.
"Put. That. Down. Those joints took me three days, and your grubby doll-poking is going to loosen the calibration, and then I will have to dismantle YOU for parts, do you understand me?"
"It waved at me. It likes me more than you."
"It's a hand, Columbina. It doesn't like anything. It doesn't have the capacity for taste, which, incidentally, puts it above you."
Bookmarked by dirtspell
02 Aug 2026