sorasdreams



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    "You're really beautiful," Mydei mused absentmindedly in Kremnoan, staring at Phainon. "Someday, I'll gain the courage to tell you how much you mean to me."

    Phainon paused. "What did you just say?"

    Or: Mydei develops a habit of confessing to Phainon in Kremnoan. It's not like Phainon would understand him anyways, right?

    Translated to Vietnamese by the lovely Sie !!

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    12 Nov 2025

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    “Why do they throw flowers?”

    “They’re well-wishes,” Phainon answers. “Crocuses are for new beginnings, cyclamen are for love, colchicum for fidelity. They’re blessing the marriage.”

    Mydei’s hand shifts a little lower, warm fingers circling Phainon’s wrist. “Your traditions are terribly sentimental.”

    “Romantic,” Phainon corrects. “Just call them romantic.”
    |
    To save his people, Mydei strikes a deal. Aid in exchange for two things: the coreflame of Strife and his hand in marriage.

    Series
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    06 Nov 2025

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    Phainon walks right up to him with full confidence. “Mydeimos,” he says. “I want a divorce.”

    Mydei blinks. “You want WHAT?”

    Phainon loses his memory. He wakes up convinced that he and Mydei are married. And that they should get divorced.

    (Russian | русский translation thanks to the lovely Zhena_kyubi_no_yuko!)

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    30 Oct 2025

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    “Sooo…” Tribbie begins, soundly smacking her lips.

    “What a situation,” Aglaea laments.

    “I wonder who will help him,” is Trinnon’s two cents.

    “Now’s your cue, De,” Trianne whispers at him from in between her tiny hands, like it wasn't damn obvious his fate was sealed the moment they all looked at him.

    “Splendid idea. Leave it to the homicidal maniac to be his caretaker; what could possibly go wrong?”

    Alternatively: A cursed Phainon can't speak, see or hear. Mydei is tasked with taking care of him until everything's sorted out.

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    17 May 2025

  5. Public Bookmark 74

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    “A mora for your thoughts?” Wriothesley asks.

    Neuvillette lifts his gaze from the docket in front of him, shaken from his reverie by the question. Time has sauntered by him, the minutes vanishing into the ether; he has ever been a poor judge of its passing. And he wonders if he sees the shadow of Death hovering over Wriothesley’s shoulder or if his fears are getting the better of him, for not even he can see Death as it draws ever nearer.

    “They are macabre and unpalatable, I’m afraid,” he admits, setting the docket aside.

    Neuvillette wrestles with his fear of Wriothesley's potential death.

    Language:
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    26 Mar 2025