#and joshuaorrizonte's

[crouching-mouse]

I’m FINALLY done with this fuckin’ story OTL

No you guys, you don’t understand. I came up with the idea for this over 10 years ago. I’ve been writing it on and off since 2019. Not to toot my own horn too much but this might be my fanfic magnum opus. It’s VERY depressing and I’m very proud of it, so please check it out! (if you want)  

“Scandal”

Summary: After losing his family, Kratos hopes to find peace within Cruxis's familiar halls. But everywhere he goes, he finds himself haunted by rumors of his time away, and the past he thought he left behind keeps coming back in all the worst ways.

Rated: T

Gen

Words: 7,925

[whatwedointhecraft]

Happy holidays and Merry Christmas everyone.

You're all amazing and I've been through so much this year. Thank ya'll for sticking by me

Have a good one

@watermeezer @ahousefullofmuses @bardic-tales @blackandwhitecircus @badscientist

@chickensarentcheap @howdywrites @irilenaps @insidedamienshead @joshuaorrizonte

@kaluawoo @lordkingsmith @multi-lefaiye @megandaisy9 @n1ghtcrwler

@nerathul @owlsandwich @radiozilla @thorlokibrother @uccelletto-di-kokuyo

@violetcancerian @vacantgodling @verba-writing

[wordlesslyjenneh]

Check out this beautiful and insightful vignette about Kain and his complicated feelings about everyone. I'm definitely not biased because it's a gift for me.

Thank you so much @joshuaorrizonte ! I can't tell you how much I love this.

[oddcryptidwrites]

Adele Hall [Not Your Typical Fairytale]

They pushed open the doors, together. At the vanity sat Adele, with her back turned to the door. She dabbed at her face with a makeup sponge, the rest of her makeup strewn all over the countertop. A billowy red dress swallowed her up, making her look smaller and even frailer. She spotted Piers’ reflection in the mirror, before turning around. (Knight of Dawn, Chapter 3)

QUICK FACTS…

Full Name: Adele Paris Hall (Arthur Georgi Hall)

Pronouns: she/her

Title: None (formerly, in reverse order: Queen of the State of Georgia, King of the State of Georgia, Prince of the State of Georgia, Heir Apparent)

Gender: Transfemale

Sexuality: Demisexual

Birthday (Age at start): October 8th, 2157 (53)

Parents: Georgi Hall (deceased), Alsona (Monroe) Hall (deceased)

Siblings: Albert Ezra (missing)

Spouse: Clara Rayas-Hall (deceased)

Children: Wesley Alejandro (missing), Lake Norman (deceased), Jillian "Piers" (adoptive)

Notable physical features: freckles, almost always wearing red lipstick/nails, frail but holds herself high

Personality: cold, distrusting, brilliant, stubborn, proper, demanding, fearless

Extended Intro...

Queen Adele Hall is the adoptive mother of Piers Hall, and the former Queen of the State of Georgia. Adele grew up in the palace, training and preparing to become the next monarch of her family's line. When Adele was 13, she would meet her future wife, Clara "Claire" Carmen Rayas, the youngest daughter of two wealthy businessmen from Florida. The two would marry three months after Adele's 18th birthday (Clara was five months older). Only four years later, the beloved Georgi Hall would die relatively young from a heart attack, and a 22 year-old Adele (then still Arthur) ascended to the throne. She was coming off an era of high prosperity and growth for everyone in the state, and knew she'd have to live up to the standards set by her father. Unfortunately, Adele's life would be full of tragedies of both her own making and unavoidable causes. Her and Clara's son, Wesley was born sickly, and she reached out to an up-and-coming geneticist and his assistant. Adele would spend the next 10 or so years under his thumb, before barely escaping back to the Palace with her life. Clara did not survive, but Adele managed to rescue her now two sons, Lake and Wesley, along with Dr. Panya. About a year later, she adopted Piers, her last child. After the loss of her wife combined with her paranoia, the now-Queen grew cold and cruel, often lashing out on both her friends, children, and the citizens she served. For the next 19 years, Adele would develop the reputation as the Bloody Queen, with a record amount of executions occurring, along with several state-sponsored attacks she blamed on terrorist groups. When Piers turned 18, there were immediate calls for her abdication, and reluctantly (and due to her health beginning to fail) she did so in November of 2210.

WIP PAGE

Tag List (reply or dm to be added or removed; I pulled from the old tag list): @author-a-holmes, @soul-write @flowerprose @ceph-the-ghost-writer @theglitchywriterboi @when-wax-wings-melt @thechaoticflowergarden @lyralit @penspiration-writing @samatedeansbroccoli @charlesjosephwrites @italiangothicwriteblr @thetruearchmagos @pineapple-lover-boy @unilightwrites @sanguine-arena @bardic-tales @joshuaorrizonte @blind-the-winds @circa-specturgia @hymnonlips @aloeverawrites @the-stray-storyteller @writeblrsupport @starlit-skys @kyuponstories @guessillcallitart @magic-is-something-we-create @talesofsorrowandofruin

[joshuaorrizonte]

I’ve been joshuaorrizonte since I was 22. I am going to be 42 this year.

Do we think it’s time for a name change?

[estinininininen]

FFIV, The Native Hue of Resolution, parts 1 and 2 of ?, ao3 link

I accidentally deleted the first part I had posted on tumblr because I confused it with the draft of part 2. Oops. Anyway, that's fine, because part 1 is required to understand part 2. ~2k words, Role reversal, corruption, reincarnation, mind control, loosely inspired by Again by joshuaorrizonte on ao3

Cecil Harvey stood before his closest remaining friends in this second, diminished life.

"All that I have meant to do is protect the crystals. Our legacy," he said, looking them down from his full height. Only Kain Highwind was taller, and as ever lately, Kain stood behind Cecil and did nothing.

"Our legacy," Cecil continued, "and all that remains of what we fought for, and won, and deserved! We-"

Edge's voice cracked like a whip. "Yeah, I know what you meant to do," he said. "What I'm worried about is what you're actually doing."

"That's immaterial," Cecil said, and this was familiar to them all. This was Paladin-king Cecil cooling the temper of Edward the Masked, as he had in meetings and debates at the kings' tables in times of yore.

But something this time was different.

Edge let Cecil know it. "It's very material," he said. "Germane, even, Your Paladin-ness. Refounding Baron and Eblan? Taking land from people who don't even know those names?"

Rydia placed a hand on Edge's arm and looked at Cecil. She had no lack of practice looking up at Cecil with fear and suspicion. She just had never wanted to use it in this life, and so had given him chance after chance after chance.

"Just one thing," she said.

"Anything," Cecil said, smiling and, as always, looking like he meant it. "I have always said I will give you anything in my power I can give."

"I want Kain to say he is under his own thoughts-" Rydia said.

Cecil's brow furrowed, and the dignified little smile intended to soothe turned in on itself in a grimacing flash. "As he has already, many times-"

"Don't interrupt me, Harvey," Rydia said.

Cecil stopped. Emotions warred on his face, carried up by shock.

"I want Kain to say it, to Rosa's face, when you are out of the room," Rydia said.

Rosa nodded. Pale and grim, she had said nothing once they had passed the point of no return with Cecil.

"I can't allow that," Cecil said, mouth closing shut with a click of teeth.

It took a moment for the exchange to ripple through everyone's awareness. They had expected more politicking, more wheedling, more perseverating. Even Cecil himself is a little surprised at how fast he was able to say it.

"What? Why?" Edge said, and then shoved himself in front of Rydia.

Cecil was already casting.

--------------

Kain only vaguely remembered the first time he suspected Cecil wasn't the same man as that last, glorious lifetime. (Well. It had been more glorious for some than others.) They were arguing over something, and in the middle of it Cecil tutted and shook his head.

"Oh, but Kain," Cecil said, "Kain, Kain, Kain. You've always been jealous. You would have ruined it for everyone again this time, and for what? Just to spite me?"

The only emotion Kain could show was the furious clenching of his jaw. He had to hold it together. He wasn't sure why. His tongue worked at his teeth, pushing at squeezing out some truth from his desperate lungs, but he couldn't find the lie in Cecil's words. He was always jealous of him, always had been. Cecil was right. Kain needed to work harder to be a good friend.

For one terrifying second Kain's chin wrinkled like it might before crying tears. He had not felt that way in a long time. His thoughts caught around it, what could be making him upset, and couldn't answer it. Couldn't settle. Would Cecil see the weakness in him, as he might have in their long-ago friendship? Would Cecil reassure him or use it against him?

Would this new Cecil somehow do both? Kain had the dawning realization it had already happened, and often.

Cecil smiled. "Don't forget," he said. "We are our best when we work together."

And once again, Kain's thoughts dipped down beneath the cover of Cecil's comforting, poisoned reminder, that had stung like a bite at the end of a kiss.

------------------

And now he stands behind Cecil like a statue, a golem, a wind-up toy. Like a . . a . . . a pupp-

When did this go so wrong? he thinks.

Rydia's voice drags him out of his stupor. Her voice becomes words in time to realize she's arguing with Cecil. And Cecil -

Denies Rydia?

No, that can't be right. Cecil would never. Even unto a future, reincarnated life, Cecil would have felt like he still owed Rydia. As, deep within, Kain still does.

Something falls out of Kain's heart. It's shaped like the horrified glance of a boy a year younger than him. When they were both still boys pretending to be men, Cecil a dark knight, the kindest soldier in all of Baron, whipping round to shove Kain back from a cringing green foundling.

When did it all go wrong? Kain thinks. He cannot remember if he has thought it before.

They are all moving so fast when he pays attention again. Cecil is saying something to him. Kain cannot answer. His mind is vibrating like a plucked string. It reminds him of something. He remembers the . . . bard? The monk? No, that was in Fabul, when he looked at Rosa and he almost . . . When he first almost . . .

Edge cannot make it past Cecil's protection spell, and Cecil has also slowed them all. Fine spider-silk threads of white magic pull them down just enough to impede. Rosa does not have her bow and Cecil has armor that resists white magic. Kain shudders, and hears his armor rattle like a pail, and is too busy being useless.

Then Rydia finishes casting, steps out from behind Edge, and a light as bright as the sun pours forth from her hands. Kain remembers this magic, first from the Tower of Zot, and then the continuous fighting after that. It is unlike any normal magecraft. He cannot sense magic but his teeth hurt and his mind is about to crack like a overbent bow. He can sense this. It is from where destructive black magic and constructive white magic come close to meeting, as a circle, as the two halves of the whole they are in truth. It mirrors another, white magic spell, its only rival, that nameless deliverance known only by its adjective, Holy.

Rydia whispers, "Meteor," and Cecil screams.

Kain remembers what this did to him last time, and yet he cannot brace for it -

He passes out.

PART 2:

Kain woke up in pain, in body and mind, and even his soul. He didn't have full consciousness yet, more drowsing than awake.

Someone was in his thoughts. Again. Again and again. Beyond the anger he might have had, or the sorrow, he just felt tired. Like throwing up his hands to shrug and say, "Ah, not again."

It was that realization that sparked a bit of hope under his heart. He had never held so much self-awareness before, in Zemus's thrall, either under Golbez or Cecil -

Cecil.

Kain remembered Edge in a private nook of the Lunar Whale, relating to him the story of Theodor Harvey, Golbez, Kluya's elder son and Cecil's brother. Kain's own confusion and regret had fogged up what would have otherwise been an impressive shock. However, only the matters of immediate survival and attack were important to any of them. Still, Cecil could not hide the deep wound it left. In the constant half-dawn of flying through space, as Rydia and Rosa hid in the stairwell, Edge forgave Kain faster than he would have. He needed Kain's help to circle around Cecil's fraying thoughts.

Edge had said to Kain, "It scared him real bad. For a minute all he could say was it could have just as easily been him."

Did that possibility still exist, untold millenia later? When Cecil was not even half-Lunarian in body, but only possibly in spirit? There were always more questions than answers. It seemed they had all moved forward without thinking again, falling right into the motions Zeromus expected of them. Again.

Kain scrunched his face in pain and confusion. "He's waking up," someone said.

He had a more difficult time sorting through if his head was addled when he was conscious, Kain realized with a spike of dread. He was here, self-aware. He had an important tool. He had moments before he woke up and he needed to use them, because he was here and so was someone else. Someone was here with him, in his head, and he could sense them like a neighbor that might be spying. Familiar, but not pressing down on him, like . . .

He started to wake up.

No, Kain thought. No. Tell me who you are.

In a twisting whirl like a shocked animal, the neighbor in his thoughts turned their attention towards Kain and answered him. What? What? Who's there? . . .

Kain was so surprised he almost opened his eyes. He tried to sink back into drowsing wakefulness, but as ever for disappointed dreamers, such thoughts were more defined by change, and not a single state of mind one could return to by command. It did not exist except as transition. Still Kain pulled himself back down, like the peak of a dragoon jump sending him back to earth.

The other someone said, Who I am? I should ask who you are instead. You reached out to me, and no one . . . Their thoughts stuttered to a halt. They looked at Kain again, and this time through his head like clear glass.

Help, Kain said. He struggled. Help. Cecil.

His unknown neighbor, that he knew but didn't recognize, had thoughts that now felt tentative and kind, but slow to react. Their mind crouched low, spooked, as though afraid of Kain as much as Kain was of . . . them, and himself, and Cecil and Zemus and everybody. He thought of Golbez, again, for no reason.

. . . Kain, the neighbor said. What's happening? What's wrong?

Help, Kain said. Rosa was cupping his face, and carding a hand through his hair. Do not wake up, he ordered himself, but he couldn't stop it. The way he was speaking, his thoughts pulling on top of each other with no point, he was about to lose it, lose the unconscious waking and the chance to talk, and he needed their help. He needed it. Help. Cecil. Help Cecil.

Cecil? they said back to him. They hesitated, then gave a sharp but gentle pull at Kain's own head. Kain recognized the insistence. It felt very familiar, but like a secret handshake or tug on his arm given by hands he didn't realize could also be gentle. Cecil's in trouble?

At the exact same moment Kain answered, Cecil. Cecil, trouble. Help Cecil, he recognized the voice.

Oh, shit, he thought.

Wait! Kain-

Kain woke up.

"Oh, shit," he said, and then frowned up at Rosa.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Kain's thoughts stalled like an airship run aground into a swamp. "I don't know," he said. Had he been talking to someone?

Rosa met his frown with one of her own. "Can you follow my finger?" she said. And she followed white mage concussion protocol as dutifully as ever, which put Kain at a bit of ease, although he was still floundering, and wanted someone to pop open his skull and clean out the bilge of his thoughts. Wait, he never used to use so many damn ship metaphors . . .

Although once brothers, there were some major differences between being controlled by Cecil and Golbez.

He hoped having Cecil Goddamned Harvey, Lord Captain of the Red Fucking Wings in his thoughts all the time wouldn't leave too many after-effects, but it seemed that ship had already . . . Fuck.

[adeat]

Heads Up 7 Up

Tagged by: @emptymanuscript. Thank you very much! I was tagged on my sideblog, @quasionion. Posting here first since this is my main blog. I hope that’s okay!

Tagging: @asphaltvalkyrie, @mythramystral, @carmasi, @joshuaorrizonte, @abeat, @theimperialnuisance ...

...and anyone else who wants to do it! I don’t know who else has a WIP going on, but if you do, I’d love to see it!

Rules for those who want to participate are that you post 7 lines from a wip of yours and tag some other people.

This is from something I’ve been joking calling my therapy story. It’s a combination of martial arts and family drama. I have no real great ambitions for this story and I didn’t really intend to share this with anyone. But uh, this is the story I’m working on right now, so here it is? :D~ Also I ended up posting paragraphs + an extra two for some context, so... sorry. I’ll put the blurb under a cut so I don’t bother anyone’s dashboard.

Kaito is the story’s protagonist. Kaiken is Kaito’s twin brother, and Go is their father. This part takes place when the brothers are 12 years old. (The brothers are 21 in the story proper.)

Kaiken, who had been practicing various ballet moves to pass the time, walked over and slapped a firm hand on Kaito’s shoulder. “Then Kaito can come to the tryout. See what it’s like to be me in person.”

‘It’s not like I don’t ever want to,’ Kaito thought bitterly.

Go’s frown deepened. “I don’t want Kaito to go. This matter is between Kaiken and Coach Kurote alone.”

“Why not?” Kaiken shot back. “It’s not like Kaito’ll be participating or anything. I don’t see the problem.”

Kaito flinched. His brother’s words stung harder than any punch the elder twin landed on him. Father, Kaito expected nothing less out of him, but his own brother? Kaito shook his head. Kaiken was right and once again, Kaito’s destiny was to sit quietly in the shadows. Kaito bowed his head, only to snap out of his reverie when Kaiken’s grip tightened. Not threatening, but firm. Reassuring.

Like how Kaiken used to do.

‘Kaiken, what are you…? Even after you…? I don’t get you. I don’t get you at all.’

But then something about Kaiken’s grip made Kaito do a double take. Like a ripple effect that slowly escalated from just a small push, Kaito felt a quiver—subtle, but gradually increasing in intensity.

‘Is he… scared…?’

[whatwedointhecraft]

@vacantgodling @jezifster @joshuaorrizonte @midnight-and-his-melodiverse @midnight-blue-moon-princess @multi-lefaiye @perasperaadastrawriting I love yooou

[whatwedointhecraft]

Hey guys

I just wanted this to be my full formal apology. I've been needing to write this for a few months and I think I was blocked from the right words to say, out of anger and my own struggles. Let me explain

I started this blog last year to get away from writeblr drama and like, some people I considered friends who we all turned on each other and now no longer speak to each other.

I admit I have a part to play in the blame, what I said and did was wrong and I pushed some very important people away when I didn't intend to. I'm learning to be a better person and learning from my mistakes because sometimes I don't understand things and they're not really explained well.

I thought what I was doing, was helping people but maybe I wasn't doing enough, or I was doing too much of the wrong thing. All I know is, looking back on it - I was wrong. And I was too hurt to see that.

I only want to make writeblr and my friends and everyone else, happy. I want writeblr to be a nice place for everyone to get along with, to get feedback and support and all that jazz.

That doesn't make things better. I know I can't go back and repair the bridges that have been burnt and I can't repair those relationships. But just know that I am very sorry if I ever came across as rude or weird. It was not my intention.

Looking back, I could have done things a lot better and through learning things about myself, I've learned that I need to do better. I want to understand. I want to help.

Words can't describe how sorry I am and I know that won't bring anything back. But hopefully we can look to the future now. I want this year onwards to be a good year for everyone I'm friends with, with those who want to get to know me. I don't want to fall out.

I've met so many wonderful people and I really owe everything to you guys. Ya'll are amazing.

Thank you

Ash Shepard, formerly Athena Anna Rose

@albatris @abalonetea @antique-symbolism @bardicbeetle @blackandwhitecircus @blackrosesandwhump @bard-coded @digital-chance-rb @dyrewrites @endlessburningdarkness @emery-silverton @foxy-lisard @galactic-mystics-writes @garthcelyn @hallowedfury @hippiewrites @icaruspendragon @irilenaps @insidedamienshead @illarian-rambling @isabellebissonrouthier @joshuaorrizonte @jezifster @kalu-chan @kosmic-kore @multi-lefaiye @midnight-blue-moon-princess @midnight-and-his-melodiverse @pheita @pluttskutt @philosophika @pen-of-roses @revenantlore @scribble-dee-vee @sergeantnarwhalwrites @thorlokibrother @that-chibi-writer @theprissythumbelina @uccelletto-di-kokuyo @violetcancerian @vacantgodling @waltzshouldbewriting @wait-a-minute-lassie

[oddcryptidwrites]

Juliana "Jules" Ledet [NYTF]

As they approached the slightly raised stage, they spotted a woman in a navy dress, draped over Grady’s shoulder playfully... She made eye contact with them, then whispered something in Grady’s ear. Grady stiffened, and the woman laughed, pinching her cheek playfully. (Knight of Dawn, Chapter 15)

Full Name: Juliana Anaïs Ledet (NEVER call her Juliana, only Jules)

Pronouns: she/her

Title: None

Gender: cisfemale

Sexuality: Aromantic Asexual

Birthday (Age at start): August 10th, 2187 (23)

Siblings: Lennox (adopted)

Notable physical features: wears pretty heavy/dark makeup, limp (left hip issue), ears pierced all the way up

Personality: Flirty, quick-witted, humorous, impatient, fun-loving, smart-ass

Extended Introduction

Little is known about Jules' childhood. She lived with her mother, Lou Ledet, and her younger brother, Lennox, for most of her childhood, with Lou and Lennox disappearing for days or weeks at a time and leaving Jules alone. From a young age, she was used to fending for herself. What little time that Lou spent with their daughter, they would teach her various survival tactics, including how to use any weapon she could get her hands on.

At 16, Jules applied to join the Royal Guard Academy. She excelled at the tests, earning herself a spot in the class of Special Operations. However, her supervisors feared that her mental state was unstable, forcing her to wait out a year before beginning her official training. During this time, she would meet Grady Yensey. The two would date briefly, but it wouldn't last long, and decided they would be just friends.

Jules successfully completed her RGA training, joining Special Operations as a First Agent. Her stint as an Agent would only last for 8 months, before Jules was dishonorably discharged for "Conspiracy Against the Crown". Confused, Jules approached her supervisor about the discharge, but not even Grady could tell her why, as her file was sealed. Since then, Jules has been working as a for-hire bodyguard and assassin, and has been doing work for Lou and their mysterious partner.

NYTF WIP PAGE

Tag List (reply or dm to be added or removed):@author-a-holmes, @soul-write @flowerprose @ceph-the-ghost-writer @theglitchywriterboi @when-wax-wings-melt @thechaoticflowergarden @lyralit @penspiration-writing @samatedeansbroccoli @charlesjosephwrites @italiangothicwriteblr @thetruearchmagos @pineapple-lover-boy @unilightwrites @sanguine-arena @bardic-tales @joshuaorrizonte @blind-the-winds @circa-specturgia @hymnonlips @aloeverawrites @the-stray-storyteller @writeblrsupport @starlit-skys @kyuponstories @guessillcallitart @magic-is-something-we-create @talesofsorrowandofruin @writingonmymind @imslowlydisintegrating @worldsfromhoney

[joshuaorrizonte]

So this has been the project I've been dedicating my life to since February. It is complete. Have at it, if the spirit moves you!

[junypr-camus]

Favorite Line Tag Game

Thanks for the tag, @isabellebissonrouthier!

Tagging: @aalinaaaaaa, @mayonnaisepudding, @joshuaorrizonte, @regalserpent, and @sabrina-author!

From Seranid (Terry's words):

“Even if it doesn’t work, at least we’d be doing something. Someone else can pick up where we left off — maybe someday there will be meaningful change. Camus, I don’t want to keep playing this game of hide and seek knowing I’m going to lose. If I go down, I go down in flames. You can run if you want, but I won’t join you. I’m staying here. Fighting. Until the last."

[asrasotherbottom]

Nightmare Realm

the wonderful,lovely,talented @joshuaorrizonte and I collaborated on a fic! (Its also on AO3 but i’ll link to that in a reblog so this actually shows up in the tags)

Summary:  The Apprentice has a very important question for Asra, but they're afraid of Asra's reaction. Their solution? To ask the Magician how to pop the question. But the apprentice isn't quite sure what they're doing when they move to traverse the magical realms alone, and end up somewhere they absolutely do not want to be... 

Word Count: 3959

Warnings: LOTS of Asra angst, death, blood description (but he gets a happy ending)

----------------------------------------------------------------------

They took a deep, steadying breath. They’d never done this alone before; Asra had always been there with them when they traversed the magical realms, been there to guide them to and from. It made them nervous. 

But the fact of the matter was that they needed advice, and needed it badly. They felt the ring in their pocket, and pulled their hand away. They planned to give that ring to Asra, but- what if he rejected it? What if he rejected them? They needed to know how to do this, if it was even a smart idea. The one being who knew Asra best was the Magician.

The Magician would likely not give them a straight answer, they knew. In all the times they’d conversed with the being, they’d not once been truly forthright with them. But, they thought wryly, the Magician would easily keep this a secret. Their other choice for this advice, Julian… He was liable to gossip to everyone who would listen, and it would get back to Asra. 

If the Magician was as useless about this as they suspected they would be, they could always resort to Julian anyway. But if not… they could imagine that the being would have pretty good advice for them, if they could stop talking in riddles for once. 

Even though he was their second choice of confidant, Julian seemed to be the best option to watch their body while they traveled to the magical realms. He never was keen on asking too many questions about their magical affairs. After all, the trip should wouldn’t last more than an hour at the maximum, and they had been to the Magician’s realm before. 

They picked a night that Asra would be out late visiting the palace to enact their plans. Nervously, they approached Julian’s clinic after dark, questions for the Magician swirling around in their head. Just as they were about to knock, Julian opened the door, startling them both. 

“Oh, erm, fancy seeing you here. Do you need help?” 

“A-actually yes, I was wondering if you could help me with something, a magic thing.” 

“A, m-magic thing?” Julian squinted down at them slightly. “You don’t need me to, er, do magic, right?” 

“No, just to watch over my body for an hour or so, you see I-” Julian cut them off with a wave of his hand. 

“I don’t want to know.”

They smiled at that. Some things remained constant in this world, and Julian’s reticence about magic was one of them. “So then you’ll do it?”

“As long as, erm, as long as watching you is all you need-” He cut himself off. “You’re not, uh, not doing anything dangerous, are you?”

“No, not at all. Still, it’s not a good idea to do this without someone watching over you.”

“Alright, I can watch you. For about an hour, you said?” At their nod, Julian moved aside to let them into the clinic. “Just, ah, just curious, but why can’t Asra do this?”

They sighed. “I’d rather not go into it if I don’t have to. Suffice it to say that Asra would ask too many questions and you won’t.”

For a moment, Julian looked almost like he was going to refuse. But instead, he brought them to his office. “Here. You’ll have privacy to do what you have to here. I’ll be right here.”

They thanked him as he ducked back out of the office to wait just outside. Laying down, they took a few deep breaths. They closed their eyes, focusing on nothing but the darkness and their own rhythmic breathing. Realizing a moment too late that it was a bad idea to have done this without setting up their personal gate, they started to fall. A vast expanse of infinite starry sky was all around them, bright flashes of light appeared and disappeared just as quickly. 

As they fell through the infinite, beautiful, darkness, they reached out their magic for the familiar feeling of the Magician’s realm. Finally they latched on to it, trying desperately to bring themselves closer to their intended realm. Without warning a sudden wind knocked them back, engulfing them in oppressive darkness. 

There were no stars and when they reached out with their magic, they felt nothing. The air around them felt heavy and warm with a metallic smell. The dark realization dawned on them that they have felt this before, it was too familiar. They landed unceremoniously with a loud, painful thud and opened their eyes. It was the Devil’s realm. 

They scrambled hastily to their feet, looking around wildly, heart thudding in their chest as they looked up into the Devil’s cold, stone visage. Fighting down panic, they envisioned Asra’s voice in their mind, calming, soothing, walking them through a breathing exercise to calm down. As the panic settled, their mind went over the situation they were in. They weren’t in any danger here, but- but how were they to get out?

Focusing their magic, they closed their eyes and stretched their magic out, searching for the way out. Getting here had been easy; getting out should be just as easy. As they relaxed, their confidence grew, until they began to feel their surroundings fall away again-

-and they fell to their knees as their magic lashed back at them, snapping them back into focus with a sharp yell. They opened their eyes and stared around, fear beginning to take root in their chest again. They couldn’t get out.

Fighting back terror, feeling incredibly small and powerless, they sank back to the floor and pulled their knees up to their chest. What were they supposed to do now?

Julian watched them with mounting concern. They had said it would take about an hour. It had been nearly two, and they showed no signs of waking up. He reached for their throat, then stopped short. He meant only to check their pulse, but they were doing something magical now. Would he hurt them if he touched them now? Would he end up drawing himself into whatever was going on?

He didn’t know what he was supposed to do, but he knew one thing: they were in trouble. He was absolutely sure of it. And Julian would be able to do nothing for them. 

But Asra would.

Julian rose and left them, moving quickly. He didn’t want to leave them there, but he also didn’t know if Asra would think to stop by his clinic if their presence was missed by then. Whispering a prayer that Asra was back from his excursion to the palace, Julian jogged through the streets of Vesuvia towards the shop, urgency in his step.

Arriving, he furiously banged on the door until it opened. 

“Ilya, what are you doing here?” 

“Asra! I, um, it’s a long story. I need you to come with me to my clinic right now. I-I can explain on the way.” Asra looked at Julian in confusion, but gathered up Faust and followed Julian out of the shop. While they walked, Julian explained that they had come to him and asked him to watch their body for an hour, and that it had been much longer than that. 

“And you just left them there?!” A flash of concern passed across Asra’s face, quickly turning to a sheepish look. “Right...you had to come get me.” When they got to the clinic, Asra rushed in to the office where they were laying. 

“How long did they say they were going to be gone?” 

“An hour. It’s been over two...nearly three by now.” Neither Julian nor Asra were able to mask the mounting fear in their voices. 

“Did they say where they were going?” Julian thought back with embarrassment about how he cut them off. 

“No, they didn’t.” Asra furrowed his brow, sighing heavily. 

“I know its asking a lot of you, but could you stay and watch both of our bodies while I go look for them?” 

“Of course, whatever you need from me.” Asra cringed slightly at a distant bad memory, quickly letting the moment pass. 

He laid down on the floor and took several long deep breaths. When he opened his eyes, he was standing in his oasis, surrounded by the swirling colors and sounds that he was so accustomed to. They had both gone to the magician’s realm together; to Asra, that seemed like the best place to start. 

Asra stepped into the pool that would take him to the Magician’s realm, trying to calm his racing heart. He forced himself not to think about what could be wrong- the magical realms were dangerous, even moreso when one wasn’t sure of what they were doing. He didn’t know what possessed them to try to do this alone, but that could be dealt with once he found them and got them to safety. 

He stepped out of the surf of the Magician’s realm and walked up the beach to the ripple in the air. He stepped through, calling out softly, “Magician? Are you here?”

The Magician shimmered into being in front of him. They were standing in what looked like Julian’s clinic office; Asra half-expected to see them with the Magician, but they were not. “Asra. This is unexpected. You seem distressed. What’s going on?”

Quickly, Asra told the Magician everything he knew- which wasn’t much. The Magician’s expression darkened as he spoke. “That is a problem. I can tell you that they aren’t here.”

“Can you help me find them?”

They shook their head. “You’re more than capable of finding them, Asra.” Asra frowned; this wasn’t the time to talk in riddles! The Magician noticed his increasing agitation and said, “Think of where in the realms they have some kind of attachment to. If they aren’t in your oasis, and they aren’t here, where else have they gone in the realms in the past?”

Asra raked his mind over the question. “They’ve been to my parents’ gate, and- and the Devil’s realm.”

“That’s a starting point. That’s more than I know, in any event. Good luck, Asra. I hope you find them.” With that, their surroundings melted away, and the Magician shimmered out of existence.

Asra collapsed on the beach, trying to convince himself that they couldn’t be back in the Devil’s realm. Why would they go there, of all places, alone, without telling anyone why? The thoughts swirled in his head and in a deep pit in his stomach. He was scared. 

Asra reached out with his magic, searching for a way to the Devil’s realm. He felt nothing, no pull to their magic and no direction to the realm. Suddenly, he heard a familiar barking sound from behind him. 

“Scout!” Asra was happy to see them after all this time. 

“Arf!” They wagged their tail happily for a moment, before a solemn look passed over their face. 

“You know they’re lost, huh?” 

“Arruff!” They shook their head, catching Asra by surprise. 

“They’re not lost? But that means they might be….” Asra’s voice trailed off as he cast his gaze to the ground. “Are they in the Devil’s realm?” Scout’s eyes perked up.

“Arowr.” They nodded their head solemnly, and tugged on Asra’s sleeve, pointing off into the distance. 

“Can you take me to them?” Scout nodded and wagged their tail. “Thank you, Scout, I knew I could count on you.” Asra smiled despite himself, and followed Scout’s lead away from the shore. 

Asra followed Scout up the beach and into the woods beyond. At first, he was relaxed- as relaxed as he could be, knowing his lover was alone somewhere in the Devil’s realm for an unknown reason. But as the woods began to fall away to scorched earth, the fear he had suffered the first time he’d come to the Devil’s realm took root in his chest, threatening to strangle him. He’d beaten back that fear back then, and it was easier to beat it back now, knowing that the Devil was powerless to hurt him now, but it was still there.

Asra put his head down and kept walking, following Scout until they finally led him to a set of tall, forbidding iron gates. Heat rolled out from behind the gates as Scout came to a stop before them and turned back to face Asra. “They’re in here?” Asra asked quietly. 

“Aruff!”

“I’m taking that as a yes,” he muttered, looking up at the gates and fighting back dread. “Are you coming with, or do I- do I need to go in there alone?”

Asra heard a faint whimper, but when he turned around, Scout was nowhere to be seen. 

“I guess alone it is, then.” Asra faced the gate, steeling himself for what was ahead. The metal was searing hot against his flesh as he pushed the doors open. 

He walked out onto the beach of the Lazaret. Why was he at the Lazaret? Where was his apprentice? He called out their name but it echoed back to him in vain. He called out their name again and again until he was hoarse but the wind whipped ash and sand into his face until it bled in cruel response. How did he get here? Asra dropped down to his knees and screamed and dug his hands into the sand. Who’s skull is this?  He knew who’s skull it was. The wind was louder and louder in his ears until it was a deafening roar that sounded like their voice screaming out in agony. He left them alone, they died alone, they burned alone. He remembers now. They died alone and it was his fault that he left, he gave up half his heart to the Devil -- The Devil. 

Asra remembered where he was, he was looking for them, they were trapped here, in the Devil’s realm. He had to find them, he had to save them; he couldn’t lose them again.  He stood up and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the screaming wind or the way the course sand stung his skin. Taking a few deep breaths, he opened his eyes again and the Lazaret was gone. 

He took another deep, shuddering breath. The Devil was bound but the realm was still treacherous. He had to be careful; he had nearly lost himself. His heart constricted painfully as he thought about the terror his apprentice was feeling right now, and started walking, stretching his magic out through the place. He could sense them now, and tried to reach out to them, telling them he was coming, to just hang on. 

The response he got was garbled and frantic, and Asra had to shut them out to stay focused. He came to the elevators, all hot iron and eerie red light, and swallowed hard, trying to remember which one had been the correct one. It seemed so long ago; and those memories were hazy, suppressed to stop the nightmares that followed their battle. Taking a deep breath, Asra entered one of the elevators.

He stepped out into the living space above the shop. He looked around, stunned. Everything looked to be as it should’ve been. Had- had he dreamed this whole thing? His apprentice slept peacefully on the bed, and Asra approached quietly, sitting on the edge of it carefully, hoping to avoid disturbing them. He reached out and smoothed a hand over their hair, memory of the horrible nightmare fading from his mind. It was just an anxiety dream. That was all it was.

Much to Asra’s surprise, they stirred from their sleep. That was strange; they were usually a deep sleeper. It usually took much more than that to rouse them. His stomach twisted in horror as their raised their head and opened their eyes, the whites of their eyes completely red. 

Asra whimpered and backed himself up against the wall. No, no they couldn’t be dying, they couldn’t be. They sat up with a start and pointed a finger directly at him. 

“You did this.” Their voice was distorted and strained. “You could have stopped this but you didn’t. This is your fault. I’m dead and there is nothing you can do now. This blood is on your hands, Asra. How much more blood before you drown?” 

Asra screamed and fell to his knees but it echoed back to him as a bone chilling laugh. He desperately tried to run out the door, only to end up back in the shop. Their eyes were bleeding as they screamed in agony. How much blood was on his hands? He didn’t want to know, but deep down he knew. He pressed himself up against a different wall and felt a searing pain on his back. 

He was in the Devil’s realm, he remembered now. He turned around and shoved hard on the hot metal, stumbling back into the hallway full of elevators. Asra cried. His tears were hot and stung more than the metal of the doors. He was so lost and alone, wondering if he would ever be able to find them in this realm of nightmares. He cried out their name at the top of his lungs in agony.

Asra…

Abruptly, Asra’s tears shocked to silence and he stood absolutely still, listening. That was their apprentice’s voice. It was a mere whisper, distant and hollow, but- but it was them. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he was absolutely sure of it. He raised his voice, calling them again.

This time, the answering call was stronger, with frantic notes in it. “Keep yelling!” Asra shouted into the darkness, closing his eyes, trying to tell where the voice was coming from. It seemed to come from all around him. Breathing deeply, his hands fluttered to the mark over his heart, pouring his magic out into his surroundings, searching-

-there.

Asra’s eyes flew open, and he ran down the hallway to one of the elevators, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste. The metal was hot, nearly scorching as he yanked the door open and squeezed into it, heart racing as the elevator descended. 

The doors clanged open and he stepped out into the Devil’s throne room, eyes frantically scanning the room. There, standing before the statue of the Devil, was his apprentice. Their name fell from his lips as he ran to them, sweeping them up in his arms. “You came for me,” they said in a broken whisper, burying their face in his shoulder.

“I would never leave you. Never.” Asra’s voice broke and tears freely flowed down his cheek as he held them. “I will always find you,” he said, hovering one hand over their heart. They held onto him tightly as they turned to face the looming marble presence before them. 

His eyes warily appraised the statue. The Devil was still made of stone and still no longer a threat to them. That didn’t stop Asra from feeling the same bone chilling feeling that the apprentice had felt when he looked into it’s cold, stone eyes. There was a distinct flicker of malice eternally etched on its face.  Physically trying to shake off the feeling, Asra tried his best to muster up a comforting smile. 

“Are you ready to get out of here?” They nodded vigorously, still clinging to Asra as if their life depended on it. Asra put his arm around their shoulder and led them back to the elevator, leading them out of the throne room. 

“Do you know what happened? Why...you couldn’t leave?” Asra had a much more serious and worried look on his face as he turned to face them. 

“I- I don’t know. I just panicked and my magic kept lashing back at me. The more scared I got the harder it bounced back… I’m so sorry Asra. I shouldn’t...I shouldn’t have gone to the realms alone.” 

“That leads nicely into my second question- why? Why would you come here?”

“I was trying to get to the Magician’s realm,” they muttered. “I… I wanted to ask their advice on something.”

“Oh?” Now Asra was curious. “What was that?”

Their face colored and they looked away. “It was- it was about you. I- Asra, you- we-“ Asra waited patiently for them to find their words, and managed to suppress his nervousness when they said, “I can just show you when we get out of here.”

“Don’t need to ask the Magician advice anymore?”

They shook their head. “No. No, if you’d follow me here, then I know- I know what I need to know.”

Asra kept his eyes on their profile, unable to hide his worry any longer. “What is this about? Did I do something to upset you?”

They laughed. “No. I- ah- it’s really best if I just show you when we get back.”

“Well, now I’m curious.” But the tension melted from his voice at that reassurance, and he focused on guiding them out of the realm.

The desolate land around them shifted seamlessly to the vibrant colors of Asra’s gate, and they walked hand-in-hand to one of the pools of water. “Ready to go home?” Asra asked, and at their answering nod, the two stepped into the pool together. 

When Asra opened his eyes again, it was to Julian’s worried face, hovering above him. “Oh thank goodness,” Julian breathed. “I was starting to get worried. I didn’t know what I’d do with two unconscious magicians in my clinic.”

“It took me a while to find them,” Asra replied, sitting up and looking over at his apprentice, worrying his lip. But they began to stir, and they opened their eyes in the next second. Asra helped them sit up, and then said, “Alright, what did you want to show me?”

They pinched the bridge of their nose, slowly getting their bearings. Looking around, they realized they were back in the clinic, Asra’s face inches from theirs, alight with curiosity. 

“You’re relentless, you know.” They mustered a smile while subtly feeling around in their pocket. Asra closed his eyes and  threw back his head in laughter. 

“Is that any way to--” He abruptly cut himself off when he opened his eyes. They had produced a small golden ring, engraved with their names, from their pocket and was holding it out to him. Asra was speechless and his eyes were wide in surprise. 

“I wanted to know how I should ask you to marry me. But...I think this is fitting in its own way.” They got up, making a big show of bending down on one knee so they were eye level with still-stunned-and-sitting Asra. 

“Asra, Will--” He jumped up and spun them around before they could even finish their sentence. 

“Yes! Yes, yes...I will.” He peppered their face with small kisses. By the time he set them down he was smiling so brightly it could light up even the dim clinic office. He still had them wrapped up in their arms when they gently cleared their throat and tried to hold up the ring. He sheepishly grinned and relaxed his arms. 

They beamed at him and slipped the ring onto his finger. Julian’s voice interrupted from the back of the shop. 

“Ohoho, look at that! Congratulations you two.” He was smiling and walked over to bring them both into a hug. His nose crinkled slightly. “Why didn’t you think you could tell me what you were up to?” 

“No offense, Julian “I’m going to confess to a murder I didn’t commit to the Countess of Vesuvia” Devorak, but I wanted it kept a secret.” Julian turned bright red at their words. 

“Not going to let me live that down, hm?” 

“Never.” They both answered in unison. 

[franzizka]

@joshuaorrizonte @exquisitefrogprince thank u for the support besties

[banjatheonion]

@quietwingsinthesky @taulupis @joshuaorrizonte @perplexingpuzzles @meckamecha

It’s like this

[gh0stlyink]

Happy birthday! I hope your day gets better.

Oh! Thank you so much! It did, actually, I made birthday bread 😌

Thank you so much for stopping by 🥺🖤