reality-escapist

༻❁༺ crumpet • nori • dreamer

[stellarislune]

sakuverse: exists

me:

[stellarislune]

the latest andrew update made me feel all 🦋✨🦋✨🦋 ✨ i love him so much i'm gonna combust into a cloud of pure joy 😡😤😡😤

[stellarislune]

Andrew x Darling ; Rewind pt. 2

alternate universe where, two years after your failed confession towards andrew, you became his teacher assistant instead! 🤭

here's the link to part one! make sure to read it first.

YOUR POV

Two weeks after that day.

Here you are at Professor Andrew's office.

It's a neat workspace with his table and swivel chair at the far right of the office. It's a new one, it seems. Probably bought not far from a month ago. How do you know? Because you’re a psychic.

You snort to yourself and then you shake your head, feeling silly for distracting yourself from what you’re doing.

Right now, you’re sorting suspended files stacked and stored on his set of cabinets and shelves lined up against the left of the room. According to him, he did not let Luca touch the files since he filed for a one year leave prior to his engagement with his boyfriend—now fiancé.

Based on his words, you quote, "With him and those files around, he won't be able to leave at all. He's far from the skittish, clumsy assistant that I knew of when he first started. He's passionate and hardworking. He's dedicated to finishing on time. He's quite the perfectionist, .. it's almost an obsession for him to perform at best. Ah— I'm rambling. Just make sure to file them per year. I bought face masks to avoid inhaling dust, it's on my first drawer on the table. Use it."

Luca probably will be reluctant to leave with work unfinished, you agree with him. So, with a mask on and a ton (you’re exaggerating) of folders and files, you began to sort each into their subjective years. A few of the files were former submissions from students throughout the years and let's say you have had a good time reading through a few funny and profound reads in between filing.

“The forbiddenness of a fruit..” You trail off, squinting. The handwriting on the paper has been smudged. You can barely make out what the rest of the sentence was. You pulled the paper closer to your eyes in hopes that, by doing so, you can see the words clearly.

“-even makes the taste of a lemon sweet’, is what it says.” A voice continues. “By Mokokoma Mokhonoana.”

The room is suddenly filled with static energy. One spark and it’ll catch fire. You hadn't realized that you were too absorbed into your work that he was right behind you already; snapping you back into reality.

Oh, no. No, no, no.

The room is on fire and you’re the only one seeing it burning.

You lifted my eyes at him in an attempt to steal a glance, and then you resigned yourself back to work.

You cleared your throat and greeted, "Good afternoon, Professor."

"Ever so polite like always, aren't you?" Andrew jests.

“Uhm, Yes..?" You reply, not sure what to say. "I'm, uh, done sorting the files from the first cabinet and it's all of the 2019 ones, Sir." Might as well give your work report instead. You hurriedly dropped the paper you were reading. While the passage was interesting like most of the submitted works, they are still not yours to mess with.

“I see.”

“Yeah.” Awkward.

"So much work done in so little time. I commend that. Here, take this."

Andrew reaches for his bag and retrieves a medium-sized can with a label named ‘Blended Brews’.

You turned to him and accepted it, seeing how it’ll be rude if you do reject it. It felt cold against your hand.

"—I was thinking of having it myself but I already picked up coffee from the main office. It's iced caramel macchiato. If you don't like it, just keep it there nonetheless. You might get thirsty." He adds, walking away to put his bag onto his desk. Stretching his arms before sitting down in his swivel chair.

You stare at the coffee he probably got from one of the vending machines for a while. Then, you responded, “Ah, y-yes. I’ll keep this for later.” You laugh sheepishly before setting it to your side. “Thank you, Sir.”

Silence follows.

If you remember correctly, he is a workaholic. Always in his office, never out, unless he has classes. While the usual professors may be glad to have their classes end, he always looks a tad bit sad whenever classes finish in your perspective.

You heave a sigh.

“You..”, Andrew began, making you glance at him. He clears his throat and continues,“-you don’t have to call me Sir or Professor, you know. We’re colleagues now, and you’re my assistant. That grants us both the privilege of calling each other by name, yes?”

That does make sense. Is it awkward for him perhaps to be called as such since you are no longer a student? Perhaps. Who knows? Another sigh follows.

“Very well,” you cleared your throat, "As you wish, Andrew.”

You did not know whether it was the way you said it but that garnered a hearty laugh from him. His eyes glistening as he shakes his head. His face is the epitome of amusement.

“With how you spoke, it almost catapults me back to the Medieval era,” His lips lifted a little to the side, forming a mischievous smile. “Are you gonna call me ‘My liege’ next, Listener?”

His gaze bore through yours, your eyes staring right into each other.

Your breath hitches.

Just like the first time your heart raced this fast. Being able to openly look at him without the fear of any other assumptions does something to you.

Andrew has always been beautiful in your eyes, and seeing him like this right now just hardens that thought in your head.

“I might?” You responded cheekily upon gathering yourself. “Or would you prefer ‘Your Royal Highness?’”

“That would be incongruent with how I am—I'd worry too much about taxes, security, and healthcare in my head, that I'll probably end up on the guillotine. Or—I'll be too strict that the commonfolk will initiate a coup against me.” Andrew chided.

“A royal advisor, then?” You grinned. You tried not to snort upon hearing the rather grim hypothesis that Andrew responded with.

“Hm, fitting. Did the option ‘troubadour’ never come to your mind?” (troubadours - lyric poet musicians who usually sing of courtly love in the 13th century). Andrew swings his chair to the left, the angle now facing towards you. He opens his mouth as if to continue further, but he closes it. Then, he says, “Nevermind. I'm interfering with your work now—”

“You'd make lovely pieces,” You interrupted as you sorted the last folders on your left. It contained nothing but old, unreadable papers so you’re keeping them for shredding later on. 

“Oh? And have you read any of my work for you to hypothesize such a statement?” His voice sounds.. intrigued. 

“You are a literature and history professor. Isn't that a natural assumption?”

“Touché.” Andrew chuckles, his eyes shining with interest. 

The atmosphere seemed lighter now. The worries you have running in your head are just melting like glaciers underneath the sun’s direct rays.

You thought working with Andrew might be too taxing for you. You fear disappointing him now, like how you feared disappointing him with mediocre submissions way, way back when he was your literature professor. 

However, thinking of it now..

It’s not so bad after all.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Watch out for part 3 SOON! 💖

[stellarislune]

Andrew x Darling ; Rewind AU pt 1

your 'drunken' last ditch effort confession towards the literature professor was unsuccessful. about two years into the future, you end up as andrew's assistant. (featuring our beloved luca ⭐✨)

LISTENER's POV

Large crowds of students, the road buzzing with cars going around and about in and out of the parking lot, and the looming view of the university's main building, looks absolutely nostalgic from where you stand.

It has been two long years since you have last stepped inside the academy's grounds. The familiar warmth of the memories you have had bubbled within your chest. Your gaze can't help but linger at the view. It is still beautiful and majestic, like it has always been.

Two years. It has been two years since you have graduated with a bachelor's degree, and a bittersweet regret.

You clutch your folder containing your approved resumé and application forms before heading in.

Throughout the past twenty three months, you have had a hard time finding a job that suits your taste — and one that is nearer to your current apartment. Your parents have always been kind enough to fund your education, and that kindness has extended even after you have finished college. Still, you are ashamed to not have found a suitable job until now. And the said job is at your own alma mater that is!

Finally, Finally. You were able to get a slot as a teacher assistant to one of the departments in the academy. They posted a job advertisement on one of their main pages during the holidays, and you managed to get your entry in there during the last few days of the application process.

It was nerve-wracking to wait for an email from them since you were not confident that you can bag a job; but, here you are now. Ready to have the chance to showcase your skills after all those horrid months of unproductivity!

You do need to check which specific department you’re assigned to so you came in earlier than you should have. They did not specify which spots on each college department were open, so you’re hoping that you get lucky enough to be under someone who will be patient in showing you the ropes.

Your face warms up and your heart beats faster with each stride towards the main office. The door is still the same old mahogany wood with a glass window at the upper half. From outside, you can see the people hurrying to and fro. Your hands went cold as you contemplated whether to go in or not. It’s not like you’ll be reprimanded or something, right? Haha.

After what seemed like forever, you opened the door and was greeted by a swarm of cubicles past the lounge. There’s people answering telephones, holding papers, and typing down on their computers. It's a whole different thing now that you're no longer a student.

There you were, fidgeting, not knowing what to do or where to go next, when a familiar black-haired man passed right down the aisle with a phone attached to their ear.

You gasp silently.

While he looks a lot more mature in his stature and pose, you can never forget his adorably sweet voice that greets you whenever you get the chance to talk. There you go, turning your head to confirm your thought, and you knew it. It’s really him.

Luca.

The person whom you have gotten close with ever since you started passing all your requirements in your literature class in person in his assigned professor's office. He's one of the remarkable—skittish but cute—hardworking teacher assistants that you have had the pleasure of knowing. You overhear the conversation being something about reprinting old test papers before Luca turns the phone off and puts it in his pocket.

You were about to call him with a wave of your hand as a greeting, but it looks like he noticed you already. His face blooms into a warm, excited smile as he sees you.

"Oh my gosh, Listener! You're here!!!" Luca immediately clings to you, wrapping you in his arms and just lifting you off the ground by a few centimeters in a swift bear hug. His warmth creeped into your own. "I haven't seen you in so long. I couldn't believe it!"

You laugh softly, hugging him real tight in return. "I missed you too, Luca! By a huge amount!" You huff as you let go of his arms first. "How are you? You owe me a lot of detail, mister. And, before you complain, my phone got stolen and-my laptop is broken so I had to get a new one. I was incredibly unlucky, I know.”' You cross my arms, shaking your head with a sigh.

"Well, ask away then, Listener. But first, let's head over there”, he points at the lounge area. “You're in luck because it's my free time for the next two hours~ All that's left for me is to clean up and box all my things in Andrew's office. " Luca leads you over to one of the long, red sofas that highly contrast the beige walls and the cream floor.

Box all his things? What-

"So," he starts as he sits down, facing you with interest sparkling in his eyes, "what brings you here all of sudden? Surely not to visit me right cause I am taken and I—"

You smack him with one of the pillows on the sofa. Earning a snort from the other. He shielded himself with his arm so his face wasn't harmed at any point—not that pillows can do that much damage anyway.

"Shut up, I already know how gay you are." You groan and roll your eyes, followed with a burst of a giggle. "You're so annoying."

"Pft, only because you're my friend! It's a privilege~ And, you literally love me. I'm the cutest person in the world. Your own words, not mine." Luca sticks his tongue out at you.

He's right. Luca was quite shy at first but now that you have gotten to know him better, he's shown more than just those shallow observed qualities people usually stereotype him with.

You sighed and handed Luca your folder containing your approved letter of intent, resumé, and your portfolio of notable achievements. He flips through each page, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth as he concentrates. You stifle a smile at how absolutely adorable he looks, and wait for him to speak.

"Uh, so.. you're the new teacher assistant who's gonna replace me." Luca’s lips form an ‘O’. You mirror his expression in surprise. Luca is quitting his job? But he loves this work… The pay is good, the environment is great, and the professors themselves don't look that bad. Specifically, someone from the literature department but—we don't want to talk about that.

Your face contorts into a frown.

"I know I missed a lot of things but, what the hell– Why are you quitting! Is someone here bullying you?" Your brows turn into a knot and you make a great show of pulling your sleeves up to your elbows, pretending to size up some invisible enemy and throwing punches at it. "I'll deal with them for you. Lemme at 'em!"

Luca shakes his head and smiles fondly. Raising his left hand and pointing out the ring on his fourth finger. You put a hand to your mouth as your eyes darted from Luca then to the ring on his finger. You silently squealed as you took his hands and began to squeeze them tight.

"Luca! Oh, holy fuck. I'm so happy for youuuuuu!" It's your turn to just jump on him and hug the life out of him. You held him for about two seconds then, you sat your ass back on the seat. "Your boyfriend—no—your fiancé, better treat you well or he's gonna get hell from me." You threatened jokingly.

His boyfriend sometimes visits at the same time that you pass requirements in your previous professor's office, so you kinda are familiar with him. That doesn't stop you from being overprotective of your possibly best, most precious friend in the world.

"He's spoiling me too much actually." Luca pouts. "He's quitting his gaming stuff when I get home. He always, ALWAYS has chocolates for me. And he gives me kisses all the time." Luca's face is flushed as he cups both his cheeks shyly.

You feign chest pain as I clutch my heart. "Right in front of my single ass, huh?" You giggle. "I'm kidding. I'm so, so, so happy for you. I will prepare my wedding gift in advance!"

Luca's face turns into vivid confusion. "I thought you have a boyf—"

From behind Luca, the sound of a door opens. Luca’s head turned to it, and so did yours. You could not believe it but it is another even more familiar face.. One you know so well.

With dark golden, brown hair, black rimmed glasses, and stern gaze, your—you mean—the literature professor, Andrew Marston, emerges in full view holding a bunch of folders in his left arm and his phone in his hand.

Professor Marston walked in long, elegant strides towards.. the both of you. Despite the months that have gone past, he still has an aura of intimidation, wit, and an absolutely handsome charm. His lips were pursed yet his eyes — his eyes were lit with curiosity.

"Well, well. If it isn't you, Listener. Of all things to expect today, I had not foreseen any circumstances that include you being here today." Despite his words, his tone is laced with a hint of amusement.

You fiddle your fingers. "Hello, Professor." You squeaked awkwardly. "Good morning to you."

"Andrew." Luca stands up. His face looks extra mischievous even if his face is still, criminally, looking too innocent. "Listener will be your new assistant. Have you heard that news already?"

Andrew hums and taps his foot. "No, actually." He turns to face you. "You applied as my assistant?"

Then, at that moment, it really dawned on you. It is indeed real. The fact that, You, Listener, is Professor Andrew's assigned assistant.

Fuck.

You look at Luca with wide eyes for a second, then back at Andrew.

"I suppose, yes?" You cleared your throat. "I mean. Yes, Sir."

You blush profusely. Resisting the urge to just run away and maybe melt like a snowman under the thick heat of the sun.

Andrew nods slowly, as if taking the information in. At the exact time, Luca taps his shoulder and says, "I'll finish up my cleaning so Listener right here–," Luca shoots a finger gun at you with a grin,"–can put their things in without a worry in the world." And with that, he left.

Lord, take me now.

Leaving you to Andrew's mercy, like a bunny rabbit in a lion's den. Or whatever. You’re just exaggerating.

"Hand me your resumé. I assume that you do have them in hand, yes? You were quite the perfectionist during your college days, so I believe you'd have them right with you." Andrew commands without missing a beat. Reaching his free hand out to you.

You picked up your folder off the table and handed it to him. He takes it and puts it above the stack he's currently holding in his left arm.

"I'll see you in two weeks. Preferably at an early time. Say, 7:30 AM in my office? And bring your laptop or mobile gadget, along with stationary if you'd like. As much as I'd be delighted to indulge in this conversation, I have some papers to grade."

You nod. Listing it all down on your phone. You watch Andrew walk away. Probably to his cubicle where his files are kept, or something similar. The main office is where they usually encode grades and scores so that's not far fetched.

As you stand up and leave, a faint memory of Andrew's lips lifting into a somewhat triumphant smirk stays for a second before fading away from your mind. It probably was just your imagination.

You opened the doors out of the office and breathed in and out.

“See you in two week's time, Professor.”

⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa what do you think is gonna happen next? isn't luca so cute and adorable??? I love him so much. see you on pt 2 !

[stellarislune]

Asirel x Pet | impromptu fic

Or what happens when Pet 'ran' away without a trace one day.

ASIREL's POV

"Are you sure that these tactics will give us more profit?"

"Surely, the losses will be big. I beg to disagree."

"Perhaps we should do this instead.."

"I highly doubt the effectiveness of the.."

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Flashbacks of the meeting drilled a headache down into my brain.

It's another one of those days where the court just keeps toeing their feet out of line. If I snap back, they appease me with their façade of docileness.

Even with all the power and reputation in my grasp, the fact that I am younger than most of those greedy, old zealots mean that I am lower than them. At least, that is what they believe.

Sigh.

If I crack at the smallest slight against me, it'll be a big damage to my invincible, shiny image.

Asirel.

The most powerful man with powerful connections all over the world. I scoffed to myself. The throne is a lonely place for the Almighty.

Creakkk.

The door opens to my favorite chamber as of late; the room that belongs to my favored Pet.

At this time of the evening, they're usually up and about. Either playing with knives and darts, reading, or simply exploring the room in their idle time. I have not allowed them to come out ever since that fiasco where they tried to use my personal lessons on others. Not that I left that fool gloating over having stolen what was mine — they won't be able to bring mortal possessions in whatever position they are in right now.

What greets me, however, is an empty, silent room devoid of light from the chandeliers hanging above. There's knives scattered on the floor, splattered with what looked like blood. A soft breeze runs past me, so I turn my head towards the window. It has been broken—whether it has been broken in or out however, I do not know.

It's a moonlit night. Its rays illuminated the room dimly, yet with enough light to identify whatever it is on the ground. Several bodies, probably dead, all scattered unceremoniously against the walls in various directions.

"What games are you playing, Pet?", I mutter to myself, exasperated yet also intrigued. This is surely not the first time this has happened.

My Pet has gone to feed, perhaps. Unsated by these.. lucky fools. I think. They always return to me.

Suddenly, the waft of air brings something that smells strangely familiar. The scent.

It brings back the smell of rusty cages, bleek-looking faces, and a rot of something that has never seen the light for ages—during the first time that I have met them.

It's the faint scent of inhibitors.

I turned the lights on.

The bodies in the dark now have faces on them. Seeing such a mess in this room has never been surprising. Pet always feeds as if they have been starved. Like a feral beast without a leash. What shocks me is the fact that the men, albeit beaten up and bruised, appear to be alive.

I knelt down, putting two fingers on one of the men's neck and, indeed, there's a pulse. These men have fought, that's obvious enough. To think that they were toyed by my Pet is a huge possibility, yet something compels me to think that something is definitely, definitely, wrong.

With haste, I grabbed my phone. Calling one of my attendants to check on the CCTVs all over the place. My hands, which were once burning with annoyance and anger from earlier, felt cold as ice.

"Check every footage. Every nook and cranny.", My voice was deep, commanding. Somehow, it sounded shaky against the static. "My Pet is somewhere in this vicinity. Rally my men and find them." I grit my teeth as I put the phone down.

This isn't the first time that you've disappeared. It's not the first time that you have escaped from my grasp, only to be dragged back again.

But this.. this is the first time my heart has beaten this fast.

Surely, you will return. Right?

[helluvajellysandwich]

These two live rentfree in my brain

[stellarislune]

my babies

[zsakuva]

not necessarily an ask but, i honestly second the motion that asirel shouldn't be at the lowest tier (red flags) since other than his business affiliation, he doesn't go out his way to harm anyone. afaik, he is calculative and smug but that's because he IS powerful. i think if we remove him being part of the "top 1%" organization thing, he'd likely be a great businessman in the economy nonetheless. he's smart, cunning, AND charming, too. that's a complete package. he's like a "the ends justifies the means" but with a dash of hedonistic tendencies to me XD.

( !!! isaac spoiler? below)

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he also removed isaac from the dangerous case that he has paid him to do, which was after vic died (rip vic, you were loved). that implies that he cares for his people, even in unseemly ways. plus, he gave Pet a chance to run away if they want to (*coughs* consent), and disciplines them appropriately enough but not to the point where it causes permanent damage. that, or i'm just whipped for him. 🫠

I think you'd be correct in that assumption of Asirel!

The thing is, Pet can run away whenever they want to, and Asirel knows this. They both have a silent understanding that Pet is stronger, faster, and can kill him at any time. They lash out because they can. Asirel can discipline them because they allow him to. They choose to obey or to defy, dependent on what they want at the time. In their dynamic, Pet has the true power.

[stellarislune]

i'll forever be an asirel defender ☝🤓 everything about him is *chef's kiss* #sakuverse #boyfriend audios #Asirel

[litmot-archived]

Dontis angst please! <3

Thanks for the request!

Caught and Trapped

Dontis x Reader

Dontis remembers another time when he was chained to a wall and it sends him spiralling. You regret imprisoning him.

Warnings: panic attack, implied past torture

Dontis woke up with a scream on his lips, the split second of being awake and feeling his arms chained to the wall enough to drag him into the pitch-black memory of his captivity at the hands of the Trimedian. “No,” he gasped, struggling fruitlessly against the chains.

Normally, he had flawless control of his darker memories. He worked through them, accepted them, and moved on, but trauma had an interesting way of resurfacing when one least expected it, no matter how well it was processed. The damp darkness of his cage underground, metal digging into his skin and leaving him defenseless — at the mercy of these monsters — not something to be easily shaken. 

“No, no,” he cried, heaving breaths tearing out of his chest as he desperately tried to gulp down air. Panic had clouded his mind completely. He was unraveling under the vice grip his past had on him — suffocating under the chain wrapped tightly around his neck — that he did not notice the soft mattress under him, a stark reminder that he was not imprisoned by the same kind of people. 

Dontis whimpered, his entire body trembling as he looked at the iron bars of his cage, faintly illuminated by the rays of sun seeping through the small window. He could feel the phantom pain of hard stones on the ground, digging into his legs as he squirmed, trying to free himself. Trying to get out, trying to breathe—

“Xanthus!” he screamed in terror, unable to calm himself and keep his grip on reality as he sunk further into the memory, remembering the biting cold chilling him to his bones, the howling laughter filling the halls as he was ridiculed, taunted, hated for what he was. 

Somehow the open disdain for him, the heart-shattering loneliness he had endured in his isolated captivity, was what hurt him most. Dontis yearned for companionship. He needed people, he needed connection and care and love. Solitary tore him apart.

“No, please, no. Not again, please. Not again,” he sobbed, tearing desperately at the chains shackling him to the wall. He could not get out. He could not escape. His heart was beating violently in his chest, his gasping breaths echoing loudly through the basement as he convulsed, a scream of terror breaking from his lips again, cut short by his lack of breath and the lump in his throat.

Tears blurred his vision, the rushing of blood in his ears making every noise sound distorted. “What’s happening?” he could barely make out the words of the figure leaning against the bars of the cage, “What’s wrong?”

It took the panic-induced haze in his mind a moment to clear enough to recognize you, his eyes going wide as a sliver of hope lodged in his heart. “Hunter!” he gasped, tugging on his chains with renewed vigor as another wave of panic overtook him, stealing his breath and choking him. “Untie me. Untie me, please!”

Dontis’ desperate scream made you take a step back. His calm demeanor on your previous interaction made you think that he was a being entirely in control of himself, someone who was never on edge, never truly bothered by anything as he kept a level head about the world around him. This image shattered as you watched him tug frantically on the chains with which you had bound him, rubbing his wrists raw in blind panic.

“Please,” he choked again, the hoarse croak of his voice and tears streaming in rivers down his face made your heart drop, a hand moving to cover your mouth as you gasped quietly. “Please, I beg you. Let me go, let me—” a sob cut him off, his head tilting forward as the burning in his chest made it impossible for him to focus. The hope he had had at seeing you had turned to dust the moment you had taken a step back in fear. 

He knew he was scaring you away with his violent thrashing. You barely knew him, after all. You did not know what he was capable of. Only a fool would free him in a state like this, where he was this uncontrolled. He had tried to appear calm, but the black tar of panic inside him, hollowing him out until he could not breathe and all he felt was the icy coldness of loneliness — chains tying him down — made it impossible for him to keep his composure.

“Xanthus, please,” Dontis choked between heaving breaths, pleading for his last salvation as he shook violently against the cold stones of his cage.

He did not register the door of his cell opening, hurried footsteps making their way over until someone was crouching beside him. Still, on instinct, Dontis leaned into the warmth he could feel coming off of you, only realizing a few moments later that you were kneeling beside him as one of his shackled wrists was freed, chains slipping from his raw skin when he yanked his arm away. 

The sob of relief nearly broke your heart as Dontis curled up, his free hand immediately flying to his throat as if to make sure nothing was choking him. You made quick work of his other wrist, untying him completely. The door of the cage was still open, you had left it that way on purpose, but as you looked at the Incubus curled into as small a ball as he could, head buried between his knees as he desperately fought to regain his breath, you knew he would not make a run for it. 

The reflexive hold on your gun lessened, seeing Dontis still brokenly sobbing on the ground.

Tentatively, you brushed your fingers against his trembling shoulder, putting gentle pressure against it with just your fingertips. Dontis’ reaction was immediate. He shuddered, but just as you were about to retract your touch, he leaned into it, like a moth drawn to a flame. Slowly, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into your chest as Dontis continued to shake in your embrace, his breathing returning to normal slowly as he felt your warmth against his side, soothing him. 

“I’m so sorry,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his hair in a slow kiss. “I didn’t know. I would have— I never meant to—”

“I know,” he croaked, his exhaustion evident in the way he slumped against you. “I forgive you. I— it’s not something that usually happens. My memories just caught me off guard, that is all.” 

You hummed, drawing him still closer as Dontis exhaled deeply, his eyes slipping shut. “Rest, it’s alright,” you said, resolute to keep him safe and give him nothing but contentment and pleasure from now on. He had been so kind to you, after all, and the way he screamed and cried in the cage you had put him in cracked your heart painfully. “I’ve got you. Just rest.”

[zsakuva]

which character was the hardest to write lore for? and, which one did you enjoy the most? (have a great day, saku 🌸)

When it comes to lore, I don't think I have much difficulty writing for any of the characters. What does challenge me is ensuring that each person has a backstory of his own so it doesn't clash with any other. I sometimes encounter this with the slice-of-life Sakuverse characters because at their essence, their troubles should be relatable, and they are humans living day to day just as we are.

Of course, multiple people can have similar experiences, but for me, it feels too much of the same and I get quite bored with rehashed plots or events. I'm always striving for something fresh!

As for who I love writing lore for the most, it is undoubtedly Zaros from The Noble Trials! Not only is his character fascinating, but the setting and the world itself is a treat to explore and write! I find myself wanting to dig a hole and dive into the world-building, but I've learnt my lesson with my own personal projects; I plan to speckle the series with lore from here and there so it feels like a lived-in, breathing world!

[belladonnadawn]

Would it be insane if Audric decided to turn listener into a vampire in front of Xanthus? Like not only the bond would be gone, and they'd feel an excruciating pain (hoping to that small chance that it won't), but Xanthus also gets to see how the curse of immortality and dying (even for a brief moment) is going to be inflicted to his love.

Idk, kinda insane to me.

[dreadfluent]

Vaggie and Charlie resting and healing after the final battle.

Charlie has a lot of emotions.

[zsakuva]

I'm so excited for your audio return whenever it is! I'm dying to hear more of the noble trials!! The world building is so fun, and I love that the listener is a more complex character as well!

Do you have any ideas about the color scheme of the world or any of the characters outfits?

Making fan art is the best way to hold fast till the next upload (˙◁˙👐)

Thank you!

I imagine Serulla to be in a warm climate made temperate due to their location by the sea. The fabrics would be thin but embellished, particularly for the nobles; they would be extravagant in their colours, embroidery, and drapery. My main inspiration overall was South Asian bridal fashion.

For the men, intricate sherwani:

For the women, fabric galore with lehenga:

And for those outside the binary, a mixture of both, from the high collared outerwear to the long skirts and pants.

Let's just say the nobles sure know how to dress and flaunt their wealth!

[stellarislune]

this is what i pictured out too !!

[zsakuva]

hello! i love your works a lot (andrew and zaros, especially). i'm a fledgling writer and i really am in love with how you flesh out the characters and the world building is absolutely insane. how do you do that exactly? any tips? please take me as an apprentice xd thank you and have a nice day! 🌸

Thank you!

I could talk for hours when it comes to world-building. It's something that's exciting, fun, yet challenging, and there have been plenty of times where I've lost myself to research and ideas.

The way to world-build is dependent on what the main goal is and how deep down the rabbit hole you want to jump. I, unfortunately, like to dive pretty deep because I want to mould the present time of the story to its past as seamlessly as possible. However, try not to let yourself wander too far or you'll get stuck (like I've done on countless occasions). It's great for the writer to have an arsenal of information, but the most critical detail is allowing the story to breathe.

OUR WORLD, MODERN TIMES

For characters in our world, it's much easier to focus on their backstory. I always build motivations through their personality and history; without them, characters become two-dimensional and boring.

I'll use Andrew as an example.

Andrew is the first-born son and an older twin. Due to how he was raised, this alone provides a blueprint that can shape his personality:

A sense of leadership by caring for his younger brother, coupled with more responsibility as the eldest and smartest son (according to his parents).

Setting an example that their parents accept.

But what happens when the younger twin resents being compared? What happens when he begins to rebel, and Andrew is stuck between wanting to console and comfort his younger brother, but also uphold the role of the dutiful first-born son that their parents desire?

There will be conflict in his decisions, and regrets that continue into his adult life. Asking 'what ifs' is an amazing way to flesh out scenarios with multiple outcomes!

And then, when his parents noticed how proficient he was in academia, pushed Andrew. In so doing, he was:

Forced to study, and found acceptance through excelling. This likely created his need for perfectionism that later bled into every aspect of his life. However, it also transformed into him feeling inadequate whenever he wasn't working which informs why he works so hard regardless of what he does.

Isolated for majority of his childhood and teenage years. This stunted him socially, and even though he was able to experience some because of his twin, the lack of bonding, long-lasting relationships, and the knowledge of working through hardships damaged his ability to do so in adulthood. Pair this with him attending classes for older students (who were likely envious of his intelligence), and that forms a distrust of befriending people older than him.

Andrew's beliefs are all informed by what he was taught, and his experiences. This is only a little of the world-building I've done with him, but I hope that gives you some inspiration on where to start with your own!

A WHOLE NEW WORLD

When it involves a world outside our own, it's more difficult (yet way more fun) to build. You have free reign because the world is your own! Go crazy with it!

Again, dependent on the characters you're writing, you can start with something that is intrinsically linked with them and expand from there. For Zaros, the location's history is especially important because of his status, who he's surrounded by, and the relationship he has with Earis. As a character who is knowledgeable about a plethora of things, that means he would use such information; and that also requires its existence in the world-building notes!

I won't give much more away as his series is still ongoing, but with any character, there will more often than not be a motivation behind what they do and say. You don't need to outline the events of every birthday and holiday and what not. It's the events in which conflict arises that impact and change a character to define who they are in the present moment.

This was longer than I expected, but I hope this helps with your writing! Good luck!

[stellarislune]

this is amazing 💖 #zsakuva #sakuverse #writingtips

[nygmablog]

— kim namjoon

[dolzyeri]

the last archive of my 20s

[morty-prime]

I like to think Morty makes friends with aliens on adventures

[ravenousscorpian]

A GIFT FOR MY BESTIE @railwynn WHO IS ALWAys giving me tons of love <3! her fav deer man uwu! and i indulge her ship way to much cause its too darn cute uwu

[stellarislune]

cool #alastor #hazbinhotel