#his little topknot thing doesn’t make that much sense

[basedkikuenjoyer]

On this day, we are talking about the one, the only. Da Big Guy himself, Ashura Doji. So this is something from the SBS but I thought it was cool and worth a post ruminating on. The topknot looking like a Sakura tree, there’s a Rakugo reference built around that. The story is called “Mt. Head,” or in Japanese Atamayama. Just like the mountain in Kuri and bandit brigade. Not a whole lot to delve into here but let’s look into the old Rakugo and see what we find!

First off, classic Oda talking about a tree coming out of his butt. I love this man has stayed so damn juvenile. Here we have him plain as day laying out this was intended. I’m not going to say our dear author is wrong because Rakugo is a largely oral tradition even today and there are lots of variants of stories, but everything I could find about the tale was pretty consistent. Big thing you might find different based on Oda’s description is that it tends to be about one man with a Sakura tree coming out of his head. This is going to be a pretty obscure reference and I know it isn’t intended, but every time I see it there’s honestly only one thing I can think about:

This is from an adult cartoon here in the states called Mission Hill. It was created by Bill Oakley and Josh Weinstein coming fresh off their stent on The Simpsons around the turn of the millennium. Only got one season which was a tragedy, it felt a lot like a more grown up Hey Arnold! which is some high praise. These two are Wally and Gus, despite the show not lasting long they have the honor of being one of the first gay couples depicted so well which is a plus. Given the time period they are not shy about it. This was a great episode where the surly “No fussin” Gus has a knife stuck in his head and refuses to go to the hospital. So Wally glues a bunch of crap to it so Gus can’t ignore it. It’s hilarious. But we’re talking an old Rakugo and One Piece.

If you want an idea of the traditional story here you go, someone made a modern retelling into a short anime film a while back that attracted some buzz. It’s pretty simple; a stingy man eats some cherries he found on the ground from a fallen tree. A Sakura tree begins to sprout from his head. Next viewing season the man has people crowding around his head to see the lovely tree. In frustration he pulls the tree out, then rainwater fills in the hole on his head into a lovely pond. This is where is gets truly bizarre, either the man dies from fishermen hooking the insides of his headgunk or somehow drowns himself in his own headlake. Rakugo...doesn’t always make a lot of sense which is awesome.

How does that tie into our beloved Doji? Honestly I don’t have much. This doesn’t seem like The Crane Returns a Favor for Kiku where the reference is an integral part of the character’s story. Does make me think a little about Marco as the framing device, the example of Whitebeard being stingy. I do get a roughly similar vibe out of Ashura as the man from the Rakugo. Especially when he doesn’t have the influence of the other Akazaya or Oden balancing out the life he grew up with. Still, felt like a fun thing to spend a post on. 

#one piece #ashura doji #curious curiosities

[gummy-eyes]

I know we all like to make fun of Zuko’s shaved head + ponytail look (which I actually don’t hate as much as I did when I first watched the show... it kind of looks badass sometimes) but it’s really interesting to learn about the significance of the hairstyle and the lore behind it!

I found this picture of a page in the book about Kyoshi and this paragraph perfectly explains the infamous bald headed ponytail that we all know and love.

We are shown that most of the fire nation citizens have long hair pulled back in various ponytails, buns and updos. Majority of the people we’re shown have long hair, and even Zuko has some long hair despite the rest of his head being shaved. Honor is a very important thing to the fire nation, and it only makes sense that having long hair would be connected to this.

Zuko cares deeply about his honor, and even when he’s been at sea for YEARS away from the fire nation, he could have chosen to stop shaving his head and let his hair grow in. But to him, until he was able to meet Ozai’s demands and redeem himself in his eyes, his honor would always be tainted by the defeat and “shame” of disrespecting the firelord and losing and Agni Kai. Thus, he continued to shave it.

The topknot was never touched, because although he was banished, he still had hope of returning home one day. But when Zuko and Iroh officially became fugitives from the fire nation and are wanted as traitors, in Zuko’s eyes, this is a situation similar to death. His identity as a prince has died in the eyes of his nation. Even Iroh, who we know doesn’t agree with the ideology of the fire nation anymore, was always welcomed back home until now. Therefore, both Zuko and Iroh cut their topknots off to symbolize this “death” of sorts.

Once Zuko’s hair has grown back and he returns to the fire nation after ba sing se, what little hair he’s grown out is pulled into a little top knot, showing that he is honorable once more. And when he leaves home to join the avatar and fight Ozai, he takes down his top knot again, accepting his “death” status once more since he very well may not survive everything that he knows is about to happen.

I know the hairstyle is a lil janky and pretty funny to to make fun of, but i thought it’d be cool to share what I’d learned about how the hairstyle is very significant to the lore of the avatar universe, and even Zuko’s character development!

#atla #gummy speaks #atla meta #avatar #avatar the last airbender #zuko #iroh #prince zuko #this is just really interesting to me and it made a lot of sense #idk how many people knew this beforehand #atla analysis

[kintatsujo]

LoZ AU- The Courage of Running Away PART FIVE

#AU August

#LoZ AU: The Courage of Running Away

The next few legs of Link's journey (with Marla and Tonbo in tow) I'm gonna summarize a little more broadly, less because this AU is already taking up half of AU August and more because my ideas for this next bit are slightly less nailed down.

One of the major ideas I have for the countries on the western part of the continent is that they don't fully recognize Hylia as a goddess per se, and in Labrynna and Holodrum in particular they talk about the Old Goddesses (Nayru, Din and Farore) pretty much interchangeably with figures resembling the Oracles of the same names, even calling them the Oracles instead of the Three Goddesses.

Termina recognizes the Goddesses but also more prominently talks about the Four Giants and the Moon and the shape-shifting Furious God (kind of treating the events of Majora's Mask loosely like mythology)

(I don’t have art for that yet lol)

And of course, everyone respects the Great Fairies, but HOW varies a bit even from town to town.

[Image description: A painted statue of a blonde fairy in a purple and white dress, with blue, red and green along the hem of the skirt.  Her hands are held in greeting.  End ID.]

And so Link and company are traveling from town to town and kind of keep... Helping people. It's a little bit of a series of accidents at first, being in the right places at the right time, rescuing a lost kid here and fighting a monster there, doing a favor for the Maku Tree (who here lives sort of on the border between Holodrum and Labrynna) which would be a greater magnitude of video game quest than some of the others lol

[Image description: A collection of sketches.  One is of a young woman with long hair and a flowing dress seated atop an hourglass, with a small lyre in her lap.  She is labeled “The Statue of Nayru in Lynna City Square.”  Another two are of Zora with very long head tails and thin fins; one has barbels similar to a catfish.  A note nearby reads “Labrynna Zora draw from river fish and ‘longe’, lol” Another is of a rounded reptilian creature with a large eye and a big toothy grin which is labeled ‘A Tokay.’  The last is of a human with long hair and is labeled “Round eared humans are more common on the Western half of the continent.  End ID.]

[Image Description: Another series of sketches.  One is of a Goron with curly shoulder hair and a curly topknot, beard and mustache.  Even his eyebrows curl at the edges.  He is labeled “Rolling Ridge ‘Wooly’ Gorons.  Another is of a Gerudo woman with a slightly pointed ear smiling and talking to an owlike Rito.  Next to the Gerudo is the note that “Holodrum features some of the largest Gerudo communities outside of Gerudo City” and next to the Rito is the note that “Rito are just everywhere.”  The last is of two Zora with nearly nonexistent headtails and thin fins.  It is noted, “Holodrum and Labrynna’s ‘river’ Zora pull from river fish and ‘short,’ lol- basically the goal is to make them ‘feel’ the most like the OG enemy Zora.”  End ID.]

(Note: I haven’t drawn a map but I’m kind of thinking that Rolling Ridge is enough on the border of Labrynna and Holodrum that there’s some confusion about the actual borders and the Gorons probably ignore them to some degree.  The Gerudo having a notable presence in Holodrum kind of just makes sense.  I’ll talk more about the AU version of the Gerudo in a different post.)

But it feels good, getting praised and thanked for handling it your own way, and sometimes Link doesn't even HAVE to use his sword to do it.

The problem is that when people are telling stories about a young blonde Hylian with a sword that swept in and saved your village or talked down an angry herd of lynels (the lynels in this AU are their own post but think of like how lions and horses have their own social structures)

Well, if there's a wrong person to get wind of you, he will.

It's in Holodrum's capitol city of Horon that Link sees the shadow along the ground and looks up to see Hera, Astramorus's loftwing, soaring over the city's streets. And he pulls his hood over his eyes and says "don't look but that's my father's bird up there."

Marla, obviously, looks.

[image Identification: Tonbo, Marla and Link stand in the middle of a diverse crowd.  Marla and Tonbo are looking up but Marla is tilting her head at Tonbo. She has one arm around Link protectively, while Link has pulled a hood mostly over his face and is looking back at her.  Marla says, “Say Tonbo you were talking about maybe visiting that UNDERGROUND CITY, right?”  End ID.]

So they travel down to Subrosia (I know that in the game you needed portals but we're ignoring that because part of the point of this AU is that you don't NECESSARILY need magic to get most places)

Because if you're hiding from a man on a loftwing going underground isn't the least logical thing you could be doing, right?

Subrosia is populated by the mogmas from Skyward Sword as well as the little jawa-like people from Oracle of Seasons because it seems like as good a place for them to show up as any, don’t you think?

[Image Description: an elderly mogma with glasses and a moustache- a mole or rodentlike creature with long arms and a fat tail that it rests its weight on- is discussing something with two small figures in concealing robes, pointing into a bag one of them is holding up for inspection.  End ID.]

Also if Link fights a classic lava boss in this AU he does it here, lol

Link is actually pretty torn up in himself through the whole stay, though; it's hard to appreciate a tour through even the most amazing of underground vistas when you've realized that your abuser is still after you, and is probably never going to give up, and he says as much to his companions once they've calmed things down.

[Image Description: Link, Tonbo, and Marla are sitting by a fireplace across an old mogma lady holding a mug of something hot.  The mogma asks Link "... Well, he was going to take you to meet the Hyrulean royal family before you left, correct?" Link says "yeah." She reasons, "maybe you should beat him there and tell them all the reasons why you don't want anything to do with him. It seems like your best chance."  Link looks into the fire, his mouth tense.)

And that's why they go back topside to figure out how to get across Gerudo Desert and to Hyrule.

Bonus: Grammamogma’s initial concept sketch

[Image description: the old mogma lady from the previous image.  She is wearing a shawl, tiny glasses and a shirt with poofy sleeves.  She has an enormous bun in her hair and long ratlike ears.  She is sitting on her tail like a pillow.]

#my art #loz #loz au #Loz au: the courage of running away #au august

[solatude]

ATLA Unpopular Opinions

I’ve had some thoughts about various aspects in Avatar: The Last Airbender. So, in order of least to most controversial, here we go:

Sokka looks better with his hair up. Sokka’s wolf tail is one of the more unique hairstyles in the show, at least for the guys. He looks so basic with his hair down. The wolf tail adds to his personality, his dramaticness, and humor. How can a water tribe warrior fight with hair in his face? Please also refer to his topknot in Book Three.

Sokka didn’t have as much pull as fans think he does. Pull, in this context, means to attract someone romantically/sexually. First of all, Toph is a child, so I’m not counting her because a 12 year-old crushing on a 15 year-old should be nothing more than that---a crush. Yue and Suki pulled him first, as he fell for them before they fell for him. Suki could care less for the sexist guy who insulted her on her own island; but teaching him the ways of the Kyoshi warriors, plus a kiss on the cheek had him blushing---HARD! He thankfully changed his mindset after that. Yue, while she barely had a choice, had accepted her role as princess and was prepared to dedicate her life to the values of her tribe in an arranged marriage. The amount of times she ran away from Sokka was both tragic and hilarious. But that only made Sokka want her more, she never chased him. To be honest though, he was probably the first guy who treated her normally, despite her status. I think she mainly wanted a friend, but was surprised to find a potential lover in Sokka. Plus he made her laugh. Ty Lee thought he was cute, but Ty Lee thinks everything is cute. That is all. If you wanna talk about pull, Aang had Zuko risking his life chasing him for three seasons (I’m joking, don’t think too deeply about that).

Azula and Katara are almost equal in power. I get that Azula is a firebending prodigy, but sometimes her skills are overestimated by fans and she’s made to seem as though she can overpower everyone. It makes perfect sense that she lost to Katara in almost every fight. Before meeting her, she’s only ever fought nonbenders, firebenders, and earthbenders. She never had experience fighting a trained waterbender, so her losing to Katara shows that even she has her limitations. Whenever she did win a fight against her, it was because she got help from her friends, brother, or subjects. Katara never hesitated to fight her, and being 14 years-old herself, allowed for an even exchange of combat. Let’s be honest, what bender would go up against Azula fearlessly except the one who’s element puts out fires?

Ursa was not a bad mother. Ursa was a victim of an abusive, arranged marriage. For context, Fire Lord Azulon wanted Ozai to marry Ursa because she was the granddaughter of Avatar Roku, and he felt that they would produce powerful heirs to the royal family. Ursa was forced to leave her village, family, and fiance behind for this marriage; because who would dare turn down the request of a Fire Lord? Ursa never really loved Ozai, but he never cared. He just wanted to increase his status and power. Ursa is often criticized for giving Zuko attention over Azula, while scolding Azula and not showing her any love. However, Azula was praised by Ozai, and as a result showed more of an obedience towards him. Ozai showed a great disdain for Zuko. Ursa was simply doing her best to show Zuko how much he mattered. He was living in his sister’s shadow, while being neglected by his father. I also really feel for Azula, because she was only valued for her firebending skills, and she probably had no emotional outlet that she trusted to help guide her. However, I do think Azula was too far along for her mother to really help her. Ursa encouraged Zuko to play with Azula; she genuinely wanted her children to get along like any other parent. I just don’t think there was anything she could say or do to encourage Azula to be less destructive and show remorse for her actions. She should have never called Azula a monster, but she was a woman filled with fear. She feared her abusive husband and the repercussions of speaking out against him, she feared the destructive tendencies of her daughter and the ways she hurt other people without caring for how they felt, and she feared for Zuko’s life for not living up to the impossible ideals of the royal family. Ursa was not a perfect mother, but she tried given the little power she had. Also, to be fair, we only see Ursa’s life from Zuko’s perspective in the show. Azula probably had many memories with Ursa but she most likely blocked them out to hold space for firebending forms and her father’s approval; one of which she never really secured.

Bloodbending is overrated and unnecessary. Some fans claim that Katara should have had a more positive reaction to becoming a bloodbender. However, it was never in her character to be so controlling, especially against another person’s will. Bloodbending is also not as useful as it’s made to seem. Since one can only bloodbend on a full moon, you would have to wait an entire month to even utilize the skill. That’s extremely inconvenient and because you have to wait until nighttime, it’s even less practical. How often does Team Avatar fight during the night compared to the day? They would be sleeping if anything. Also, when your team consists of an agile airbender, a master waterbender, a powerful earthbender, and a weapons strategist, plus Appa and Momo; why would anyone need to bloodbend? Most of the Gaang’s enemies never required that level of power in order to be defeated. Bloodbending is also VERY niche. If this is allowed, should bonebending be allowed since there are minerals in bones? Should soundbending be allowed since sound is produced from vibrations? I admit it’s a really cool ability, but it’s not that important in the grand scheme of things. Also, speaking of Katara...

Katara gets too much hate. I’m not sure if it’s the surge of new fans since the Netflix debut or the repressed thoughts of old fans but lately Katara’s character has been mercilessly criticized. It’s been said that she brings up her mother too often, and that she’s overly emotional and selfish. First of all, Katara was eight years-old (and Sokka nine) when her mother was murdered. During the run of the show, only six years have passed since then, as she’s 14 when she finds Aang. She lives with survivor’s guilt due to her mother lying about who the last waterbender was so that Katara wouldn’t be taken prisoner. Unfortunately, the firebender soldier Yon Rah wasn’t taking prisoners that day, implying that he was going to murder her. Katara mentions her mother only a handful of times, usually to relate to another character who lost someone close to them in an effort to empathize (Aang, Haru, Jet, Zuko). People forget that she saw her mother’s dead body after running to get help. It was definitely wrong for Katara to tell Sokka that he didn’t love their mother the way she did in the Southern Raiders episode, and she definitely should have apologized. But, she was right. Sokka was shown to be closer to his father. She was in extreme emotional pain and instead of being comforted, she was criticized by Aang and Sokka for wanting revenge. How many times has Katara sacrificed something for the sake of others? She barely had a childhood considering she took on a maternal role in her tribe after her mother’s death. She had to deal with Sokka’s sexist comments, she had to suppress her talent for waterbending, and she felt isolated and alone because the one parent that was alive left to fight in the war. When someone needed encouragement, Katara was always there to encourage them. When someone needed help, she never hesitated to assist them. She often put herself in harm’s way if it meant someone else didn’t get hurt. For a 14 year-old girl in a war torn world, she is immensely brave. How many times has Zuko gone on and on about his honor, or lashed out at his Uncle for a seemingly small reason? How many times has Sokka talked about meat? Or Azula and her speeches about controlling and manipulating people? Toph and her rebelliousness? Even Aang’s laid back attitude turned into carelessness every now and then. Every character has a crutch that they attach themselves to, but Katara isn’t given the grace that other characters have been given. Yes, Aang lost his entire nation, and Katara would never know what that felt like. However, Aang wouldn’t know how Katara felt either. Aang was in the presence of children his age and was able to travel around the world to make friends (i.e. Bumi from the Earth Kingdom and Kuzon from the Fire Nation). He was taught to be less detached, so his idea of family is very different from Katara’s. He never witnessed the dead bodies of his people firsthand, though he did see Gyatso’s skeleton later on. Katara grew up in a world ruined by war. She had little to no friends, and the one person she was closest to left her life very early. Her tribe was VERY small and I doubt she had a lot of people to talk to. She had never left the Southern Water Tribe before, so it’s very likely that she was going to stay there her entire life had she not met Aang. She’s been accused of not allowing Sokka to feel sad about their mother, but why should she? It’s not Katara’s job to burden the weight of Sokka’s emotions, especially about their mother. She cannot force Sokka to open up about his feelings, that is something he must do at his own free will. Sokka hides his pain behind his masculinity. He’s protective because he feels guilty about not being able to do anything to help his mother. He doesn’t even remember what she looks like, he could only picture Katara’s face in her place. He felt even worse when his father left and he, understandably, couldn’t go with him. Sokka is not upfront about how he feels, but Katara should not be blamed for that. Overall it may be said that Katara was a flawed character that has recently been more scrutinized for her flaws than acknowledged for her strengths. We can do both, but there’s been an imbalance. She successfully revolted to free Haru’s father as well as other prisoners of the Fire Nation. She guided her friends out of the Si Wong desert despite the obstacles that stood in their way. She healed Aang and Zuko when shot by lightning, ultimately saving their lives and the lives of many other people who have been physically hurt by someone. She even washed Sokka’s underwear and sewed his pants. We can cut the girl some slack if she wants to talk about her mother, can’t we? She’s the glue that holds everyone together. Katara’s emotions make her a stronger fighter. Her trauma has shaped her into someone determined to master waterbending and has allowed her to be more empathetic to those around her. But she shouldn’t have had to go through all of that. She was forced to mature faster in order to survive. Katara can sometimes be arrogant, misguided, oblivious, and doubtful, yes. But she is also resilient, brave, selfless, and generous. That is the duality of her character. She is NOT to be disrespected. After all, as she said to Sokka in The Painted Lady, “I will never, ever turn my back on people who need me!”. And she hasn’t.

Iroh should be banned from the Earth Kingdom. It’s not an unpopular opinion that Uncle Iroh is a war criminal, but I just don’t think he should be allowed anywhere near the Earth Kingdom; either temporarily or permanently. Yes he played an instrumental role in Zuko���s redemption, with tea in his left hand and wisdom in his right. However, that does not excuse his invasion of Ba Sing Se. He laid siege to the impenetrable city for 600 days. Surely hundreds, maybe thousands of innocent people died under his commands. He broke the lower ring, home of the poorest members of the Earth Kingdom. The only reason he stopped was because his son, Lu Ten, died in battle; not aware that many citizens also died as a result of his actions. How many children’s lives has his army taken away? How many sons and daughters, fathers and mothers, aunts, uncles, and grandparents have died under his siege? Not only does he get to establish a business and earn money, he is elevated to the upper ring of the city; meanwhile an entire population can barely afford food and stable jobs. I understand that is was for plot purposes, but It’s a slap in the face to allow him to thrive in the city after Aang defeated Ozai. His wanted poster should be everywhere, not just for supposedly betraying the Fire Nation, but also for crimes against the Earth Kingdom. The very least he could do was shut down his tea shop and hand the building over to a family who may need it, and establish a tea shop in the Fire Nation. I’m not saying Iroh couldn’t be redeemed for his war crimes, but it definitely would take more than what was seen in the show for him to be forgiven for them.

Anyways, let me know what you think. This took an ungodly amount of time to write.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #sokka #aang #katara #toph #zuko #iroh #ozai #ursa #azula #ba sing se #fire nation #water tribe #bloodbending

[zutaraangtastic]

Could you do a little drabble about zuko and aang sharing dreams? maybe that is how zuko’s relationship with aang and katara starts, like it is what sparks it all :)

Also inspired by this post by @vomara! (Reminder that we are not accepting new prompts; we received these before July 1.) - Mod J

The moonlight pools in a pale circle on the dark water, perfectly still until Aang lands. His light footsteps cast ripples outwards as he spins Katara for an extra few beats in the air. Her eyes are squeezed shut with laughter as he guides her down gently, but she opens them, a gleam of mischief in their blue depths, and takes the lead as soon as she finds solid footing.

Aang gladly follows, letting her twirl him out to the end of her arm’s length and bring him back in. They sway together for an easy, quiet moment, with his back to her front and her smile pressed to his shoulder. He feels secure, wrapped up in her embrace, as he always does.

It’s a dream he has often, dancing on the sea with her—it’s one he never tires of. In the back of his mind, he knows she’s sleeping peacefully right next to him, so it’s not like it’s coming from a place of unfulfilled desire, as far as he can tell. They dance together all the time in their home, at fancy Republic City functions, at the Fire Lord’s galas. It’s just nice to steal away this extra secret time with her between night and day.

Even if it’s not quite the same as in real life, his mind does a pretty good job of conjuring Katara in a sleek sky-blue dress that tapers down one leg, her shoulders bare and her hair cascading in waves down her back. She’s utterly enchanting.

She dips him low, and Aang raises a hand to her cheek, his heart so full of love he feels like he could drown in it. “Baby, you’re my moon and stars,” he whispers, watching for the way the corners of her eyes crinkle with a smile as she leans in to kiss him. His own eyes flutter shut.

Something changes at that moment, heats up on his skin, brightens against his face. He doesn’t think much of it until he peeks his right eye open just a crack and gets a close-up look at an unmistakable scar—closer than he’s ever seen it in real life, close enough to see rivulets of pale tissue and faint pockets between rough scarlet ridges.

“Uh,” says Zuko.

“Um,” says Aang.

Neither of them moves. Around them, the scenery has turned to a soul-baringly sunny day, the water glittering beneath their feet. Zuko’s hands are where Katara’s were, one supporting Aang’s backwards lean and one resting high up on his thigh, Aang’s other knee raised up to frame Zuko’s side. Golden light, reflecting off the pool, dazzles in Zuko’s wide eyes, which soften little by little with something like gratitude.

Finally, he breaks the stillness of the moment with a somewhat dismayed laugh, letting go of the breath he seemed to be holding. Aang could almost swear he catches a sharp firewhiskey aftertaste brushing warmly over his lips. It’s an oddly specific detail, for a dream.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Zuko says, his mouth curving in a rare, secretive smile. “You’re just the person I wanted to see tonight.”

Something about it rubs against the grain in Aang’s mind, doesn’t quite add up the way it should, but he finds himself laughing, too, settling with ease into the firm hold that shifts to his waist. His own arms naturally find their way to wrap behind Zuko’s neck.

“You’re a lot smoother when I’m asleep, sifu hotman,” he remarks, and if Zuko’s brow furrows momentarily, he doesn’t really think twice about it after Zuko quickly twirls him a few times, catches him again by the hand and shoulder and steps with him in perfect sync.

Briefly, in the back of his mind, he wonders about Katara, but she wasn’t really here, and neither is Zuko. Even if his keen gaze makes Aang feel just as flustered as it does in real life, when he judges Aang’s firebending forms to “keep him sharp.” Even if the hand gliding up his side through the open slit of his robe makes him feel as hot as the sun.

He loves Katara. If he could love Zuko, too, he would—or, well, he already does, he thinks, but what difference does it make? All he knows is the real Zuko is sleeping soundly on the other side of the world. This can’t do any harm.

A little bit of sparring seems to blend naturally into their exchange. Instead of breaking apart to do the full Dancing Dragon, they stay close, trailing rainbow fire from their footsteps and trading precarious kicks around each other’s knees, legs crossing back and forth over one another as they move to and fro. The water doesn’t sizzle when their bending makes contact with it but splashes up into crystallized leaves of amber flame, scattering in their wake.

Aang ends up in the lead at some point, supporting Zuko’s weight in a high lift and a descending spin, their orange and red robes catching with a friction that might as well make a spark of its own. Several long strands of hair have strayed from Zuko’s topknot, falling messily around his face, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. There’s a simmering, unwavering intensity in his eyes now, never leaving Aang’s face. Aang flings him this way and that, dips him low and whispers, grinning, “Baby, you’re my sun and stars.” 

Zuko smirks invitingly, only to backflip over Aang’s bracing arm before Aang can act further. He lands easily, links his hand with Aang’s again and steps in close and fast to snap one leg up around Aang’s hip. They lean together, an unbroken line of contact from chest to thighs, breathing heavily. The shared hallucination of rhythm and music fades, and the utter brightness of the sky, too.

The closeness is so tempting, would make it so easy to kiss Zuko, but Aang decides to let his subconscious decide whether Zuko might make the first move instead.

“I didn’t know you could dance like that,” he says, with just a teasing note of accusation.

Zuko snorts, rolls his eyes with a distinctly affectionate exasperation reserved for Aang alone. Unthinkingly, Aang reaches to brush the loose hair back behind Zuko’s ear. His hand lingers gingerly against Zuko’s scar, warm, real, solid. Zuko doesn’t flinch away. Aang expects this dreamed image to melt away at any minute, but it doesn’t.

Before he loses the nerve, he blurts, “I didn’t know you would ever want to. With me.”

At that, Zuko chuckles, a self-deprecating sound edged with hopelessness that makes Aang’s heart clench. He closes his eyes and says, seemingly more to himself than Aang, “I knew this was all just stupid wishful thinking. That’s what happens, going to bed after too much to drink. Stupid.”

His eyelashes paint delicate, spidery shadows towards the arch of his cheek, shining damply, and his eyebrow digs down into a tense furrow. Aang doesn’t know what to do. This doesn’t make sense anymore—everything was going so well, and he thought that at least in a dream he might get a happy ending. He can’t put his finger on what went wrong. 

Lost, he bends his head slightly to press his lips to Zuko’s forehead, as the last golden light is swallowed up in the gray dawn all around them.

When Aang blinks slowly awake, the morning sky through the window is the first thing he sees, the first rays of sun stretching up into the receding blue. Katara is snoring gently, facing him, with her hair spilling over half her face. Aang lifts her sleep-heavy hand and works his fingers between hers, bringing her knuckles to his lips to kiss them softly.

He doesn’t know how long he lies awake there, watching the sun turn the clouds a rosy orange. Normally, he would get up and find somewhere to meditate. But he feels reluctant to leave Katara’s side this morning.

He stays long enough that she wakes up, though he’s sure she’ll doze off again soon enough. She squints at him with a reflexive, familiar smile and rasps, her voice rough with sleep, “What are you looking at me like that for?”

“Like what?”

“The way you always did when you thought I wasn’t watching you, back then.”

Aang laughs, and Katara does too, their breath stirring together between. “I can’t help it. I just love you.”

“Mm.” Katara scoots closer, snuggling her head under Aang’s chin and draping her arm over him. “Something’s on your mind, though. You always looked at me like that, all in love, ’cause you didn’t know how to tell me yet.”

Aang falls quiet. Reading the tension in him, Katara raises her hand to rub his upper arm gently, expectantly.

“I had a dream,” he says eventually. “About you…and Zuko.”

Katara leans back to look at him sharply. “Sweetie, you know you can’t let the tabloids get to you like that. I love you,” she says, with just a hint of scolding in her voice. “Zuko’s just a good friend.”

Aang opens his mouth, then closes it. “Yeah,” he says, pushing down the regret in it. “He is a good friend.” 

He can’t explain this to her, can’t ask her to understand something that might very well tear them apart. And that dream, as weird and real as it was…there’s just no way that Zuko feels like that, too. 

When Katara eventually does slip back into sleep, Aang kisses the crown of her head, carefully disentangles himself, and wanders down to the seashore to practice his firebending forms.

#zutaraang #kataang #zukaang #zutaraangdrabblechallenge #mod j #fic #Anonymous

[badger-writes]

Star Wars OC Ship Week 2021 - for light and love

uhhhh Hello! 😄

This fic and all its chapters was written for Star Wars OC Ship Week's inaugural year 2021, an event spotlighting OCxEC romances & platonic friendships helmed by @findswoman! It's also the first time I've personally ever taken part in an event week so I hope I do a good job! 😅

Whether you're a High Republic fan or you just want to see the big lizard get smooches, hope you enjoy! Leave comments and kudos if you do! Looking forward to sharing all I've written over the course of the week w/ y'all!

1 - How They Met

It all started, as these things do, in a medical bay.

Kelto Lem, a Jedi healer, had been busying himself with organizing the implements and instruments of the first aid wing in the Halls of Healing. This was light work, and peaceful, which suited him fine. Rarely, if ever, were there emergencies in the Jedi Temple of such scope and scale as to totally overwhelm the medical ward, and to the best of his recollection they had never occurred in the early morning, when dew was still settled on the trees and grasses of Monument Park. This made it an optimal time for preparing the ward for most of the day’s eventualities well ahead of schedule; this making good sense to him, he settled into this habit as a padawan and had never quite given it up. In time, it became almost a meditative practice for him - refilling stores of fresh bandages, taking stock of available pharmaceuticals and herbal remedies, refilling the kolto canisters…

And so it was in the middle of this daily routine that he was interrupted by the door sliding open. He turned to look and nearly dropped the medical scanner he was holding - for two reasons.

 The first: his guest was built like a permacrete E-Web bunker. Broad and tall, with an implied physicality that not even Jedi robes concealed, the visitor - a Trandoshan - strode into the ward with an aura of stern command, stolid orange eyes locking upon Kelto almost immediately. His emerald scales shone with a slight luster as he walked, the claws of his toes clicking against the tile floor, until he came to the edge of the biobed in the center of the room less than a foot away from the resident healer. The sheer weight of his presence made Kelto feel small by comparison - he, a shorter pale-scaled Rodian with stripes of deep blue running along his jaw and neck, who wore a satchel of first aid essentials on his hip everywhere he went and tied back his spines in a long, narrow topknot ending in a spiky pom where they escaped the hold of the strip of linen which restrained them.

The second: he was covered in scorchmarks.

“Star’s End,” Kelto said, when he could finally get his (dry, dry) mouth to work correctly. “What in the world happened to you?”

The Trandoshan rumbled, mouth pulling to one side in chagrin. It was a deep, bassy sound, and it landed straight in the pit of Kelto’s stomach. 

“A… mishap with the duelling droid,” he grunted, in the sibilant speech of his species. “I was not focused. Lost sight of my present. It seized the opportunity, as you can see,” he added, gesturing to his scorched robes.

“You were training? This early? Chee,” Kelto said, shaking his head. “And I thought my morning habits were odd - jump up on the bench, here, I’ll patch you up.”

He turned away to fetch some burn relief supplies, piling them on a tray. When he turned back, the Trandoshan had sat upon the biobed - and his tunic was resting carefully folded on the bench beside him.

“Ahghg,” he said, and everything on his tray rattled as he short-circuited.

The Trandoshan gave him an odd look. “Yes?”

“Oh, nothing. Nothing. I’m fine,” Kelto stammered. “Let me just, uhhh… set this down here.”

He let the tray’s repulsorlifts catch it in midair, so that it would hover at his side. Then he took a ball of fluff and daubed it in a squat open vial of kolto, letting the excess drip off and trying not to think too much about the barrel-chested masterpiece of physicality sitting just within arm’s reach to his right.

“So, how did this happen, Master …?”

“Knight, actually,” the patient replied. “Not master - not yet, anyway. And as I said, I was training.”

“Only a Knight? ...Well, I guess if you were a Master, you wouldn’t have ended up - err, you know what, forget I said that.”

With kolto-ball and medigauze dressings in hand, Kelto turned to his patient and gave him a quick once-over. There were injuries in areas roughly corresponding to the placement of scorch marks on the surface of his clothes, but fortunately, most of them didn’t seem too severe - the robes acting as a layer of insulation against the worst of it. Quite intentionally, he started on the outside limbs, an attempt to spare himself another hot flush provoked by looking straight on at his patient’s torso. Sskeer didn’t even flinch when he touched the wet medical fluff against an abrasion on the side of his arm.

“I train on one or two levels above the normal training setting,” the Trandoshan offered, by way of explanation. “Thus, my injuries.”

“Ah,” Kelto murmured, mostly to himself. “A masochist.”

Sskeer grunted reproachfully. “The training settings are designed to hold back. There will be no such reprieve in the field. Therefore, I train the body to anticipate the presence of harm - to become numb to its threat, and then, to surpass it.”

“So you’re fine with the pain?”

“Pain can be ignored. And my people have thick hides. I endure.” 

“Well, I’m no duelist, but in my estimation you could probably stand to bump back down a few levels,” Kelto observed, winding a bandage around his forearm. “At least until you can defeat one of those saber-happy droids.”

Sskeer hrrred. The sound landed in Kelto’s gut again. “Bold words from a nurse.”

“Bold enough to be a Knight, like you.” The Rodian retorted, flashing him a smirk - and turning away immediately when the sensation of being perceived became too much. (His cheeks were so warm - was it supposed to be so hot in here?) Falling silent, he took one of Sskeer’s wide, thick-fingered hands in his own, turning it to inspect the green welt on its back.

“I did not realize you had risen to Knighthood as well,” the Trandoshan offered as Kelto dressed his injury. “If I offended, it was not by intent.”

“It’s fine. I’d rather people forget, honestly. Most people, they see a Jedi and think, ‘wow! Laser swords! Magic powers!’ - but that’s… never really where I felt comfortable.”

“You feel your place is here.”

“It’s where my talents lie, I think. I’ve sort of been drawn to the healing halls ever since I left the creche. And… well, to be honest, I like being able to help people doing this. So… I guess it’s true what they say, about the Force having a path for us all, and all that.”

Sskeer hummed. “That is good.”

“Yeah, and I remember when I was little, Master Rancisis came by the ward and said a-- I’m sorry, am I rambling? I’m rambling, aren’t I? I’ll just shut up and tend you--”

“It’s fine.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I just dropped basically my whole backstory on you--”

“It’s fine,” Sskeer said - firmly, but patiently. “Really.”

And Kelto believed him.

It’s funny, he thought suddenly, how quickly you can get comfortable with someone else. A moment ago he could barely stand to meet Sskeer’s gaze - now, though, he could look him straight in the eye without feeling like wilting. Sskeer had surprisingly deep eyes, he noticed, for how small they were. Deep and dark. Like he could dip into his pupils and fall forever --

Oh gosh, there’s a huge green mark right on his temple. How did he miss that??

Kelto dunked a fresh puffball in the healing fluid and held it up to the Trandoshan’s brow, cradling it in his long, sucker-tipped fingers. This time, when it touched his skin, Sskeer flinched and barely suppressed a hiss. On instinct, Kelto shushed him - a habit picked up from soothing much younger patients, when he got his start tending the younglings’ skinned knees and broken bones.

“This one’s not so bad, I think,” he murmurs. “Just needs a little kolto to help keep it clean. Just put some ice on it every few hours for the swelling and it’ll go away soon.”

“And this?”

“Hm?”

Sskeer gestured again to a long line of angry green flesh across his trunk.

“OH Force,” the Rodian cried, slapping a hand against his forehead. “I completely missed that somehow, thank you so much, I’m so sorry. Gods, I’ll get right on that--”

The Trandoshan surprises him with a chuckle. “Rather absentminded for a healer, aren’t you?”

“D-don’t judge!” Kelto sputters. “I’ve been distracted.”

“By what, exactly?” Sskeer asked, with a smirk.

“... J-just lie all the way down, please?”

Sskeer leaned back onto the biobed, hands resting behind his back. Now the whole of his broad, stocky abdomen lies prone under the glowlights, throwing the long diagonal burn across his trunk into stark, unmistakable relief.

“Why is this one so much worse,” Kelto wonders aloud.

“I wouldn’t call it ‘worse’. As I said, I endure.”

“I’m sorry, this doesn’t look like a giant, stinging saber-welt to you?” Kelto peered closer at the mark, hesitantly plying the flesh of the Trandoshan’s belly under his fingers. “...Actually, wait. This is almost a first degree burn. What kind of training saber makes marks like these?”

Now it was Sskeer’s turn to fall quiet and avoid eye contact.

“...You… did something pretty dumb, didn’t you.”

“...When my performance against the droids began to suffer, I… disabled some of the limiters on the droids,” Sskeer growled, at length.

“Y-you did WHAT?”

“I thought it would motivate me to improve,” he shrugged.

“So when I called you a masochist earlier and you didn’t really deny it--”

This time, Sskeer almost snarled. “It’s no crime to seek out a proper challenge.”

“Oh, and if every adrenaline junkie Padawan jumped off the High Council Tower, you would too?”

“Will you just stop arguing and fix this?”

“I--” Kelto groaned. “Okay, whatever, big guy. Just - just hang on.”

He arranged his hands on either side of Sskeer’s wound - one above on his chest, one below on his stomach. Then he sucked in a deep breath through his snout and released it slowly, letting his eyes fall shut as he exhaled. 

He was panicking, he knew. Overcorrecting. There was no reason to take things this far when he was literally standing in a room filled with other, more practical solutions - and certainly not over something so silly as a shouting match with a Knight he barely knew. But by now, good sense and training had momentarily fled him. 

Here, in this moment, Kelto sank into the Force and let himself be guided by the simple instinct to help.

He took another slow breath in, and out, and began to concentrate.

And then…

Sskeer sensed it before he saw it. He craned his neck over his chest to see - and rose up on his elbows, watching intensely.

With preternatural speed, the hideous burn across his torso lightened, shrank - and then vanished. In its place only unblemished scales remained.

Like he’d never even been touched.

Kelto let out one final, explosive breath - and almost collapsed. Sskeer jolted to his feet and grabbed his arms, cradled his back in one arm, steadying him on his feet until he could recover.

“Nice catch,” Kelto panted, when he’d finally recovered.

Sskeer was looking at him differently, the Rodian noticed through the blur of lightheadedness. Looking with him with something like awe.

“That was… quite a feat,” the Trandoshan noted. “It seems you were correct to follow the path of the healers.” 

“Y-yes, well,” Kelto murmured sleepily, “we all have our own special talents.” 

His eyes trailed back to Sskeer’s chest, fingertips idly following their gaze down his trunk. They tickled, just slightly; Sskeer registered an unexpected, but not wholly unpleasant shiver down his spine.

“Think we’re all done now,” the Rodian mumbled. Then his big, sea-blue eyes blinked - slowly, then rapidly, like a Wookiee propeller-engine starting up - and he realized his hand was just shy of cupping one of Sskeer’s pecs.

“UM,” he said loudly, jumping away. “YEAH, so, all done. Clean bill of health. You should be completely fine within the next day or so, and then you can go get your butt handed to you by the training droids again, right? Yup, glad to help, have a nice day, May the Force Be With You and all that jizz, ahaha~”

The Rodian became a flurry of hyperactivity around the ward, re-stocking and re-checking shelves and cabinets for reasons Sskeer could not divine. To appear busy, he supposed - and discourage his continued presence.

It was, he decided, reather endearing. 

Sskeer let the flustered healer flail a moment more before saying, “I don’t think you ever shared your name.”

When he looked over his shoulder, Kelto’s face looked as bright as a Life Day orb - only much, much greener. “Huh?”

“Force healing is no small feat,” the Trandoshan observed, slipping his tunic and tabard back over his shoulders. “To have seen it performed is a privilege; for something as small as my own self-inflicted injury, and after my own stubbornness - an honor. 

“I’d prefer to thank you for it properly, and to apologize. But for that, I must ask your name.”

The Rodian stared. Then coughed, turning to lean back against the counter before him. “Uh, well… That’s … kind of you, but I - you know, we’re Jedi and all. W-we don’t really serve for gratitude’s sake.”

“For the sake of a fellow Jedi, then, and a friend?” 

“…Friend?”

A bemused head tilt. “Are we not?”

“W-well, that’s moving a bit quickly, isn’t it? I mean - we don’t even know each other’s names.”

Sskeer stared.

“Sorry. Sorry. I’m not dumb, I swear, I’m just -- panicking.”

The Trandoshan gave him a funny look. (It was kinda cute, Kelto noticed, when his nose scrunched up like that.) 

Just spit it out. Spit it out. Spit it out. You’re blowing it. Just spit it out spititout spititout---

“My name’s Kolto,” he said -- and groaned.

“Your name,” Sskeer echoed, “is...‘Kolto’?”

“Noooo, no, not ‘Kolto’ - Kelto! Kelto! My name is Kelto. Kelto Lem. I just - I’m just called ‘Kolto’. By - certain people.”

“Because… you work with kolto?” he ventured. “Or because it happens to sound similar?”

Kelto sulked, crossing his arms. “Because Torban Buck thinks he’s funny.” 

Understanding dawned. “Ah. Yes, he certainly does.”

“Mmmmgh. Well, now that I’ve botched my own introduction, I guess you know me. So you can leave me to my shame, now, I guess.” Kelto returned to the business of managing the ward - opening and closing cabinet doors slightly harder, this time.

A wide, three-fingered hand landed on his narrow shoulder, making him jump.

“Thank you, Kelto Lem,” Sskeer said. “Truly, you’re a credit to the Order.”

His voice was deep and warm. Kelto swore he could feel his breath tickling his ear.

“A-anytime,” he replied, spine locking ramrod straight.

He senses Sskeer’s presence pass by behind him, and imagines it’s what little Rodian swamp-fish feel like when big surface trawlers pass by, and catch them in their wake. “And perhaps when I continue my training,” Sskeer added, “I will remember to return here, for my wounds to be dressed.”

“Orrr you could crush those droids and never need to come back here again!” Kelto shakily returned.

“I’m sure I could, at that,” Sskeer chuckled. And the door slides shut behind him.

The moment Kelto was certain he was alone, he took a little paper cup and pours himself a drink of cool sinkwater. It takes gulping down two full cupfuls before he cools down, sinking heavily on his elbows against the counter.

“‘Kolto’,” he muttered, scoffing. “God damn it.”

#StarWarsOCShipWeek2021 #star wars #the high republic #sskeer #original character #oc x canon #how they met #fanfic

[kdinthecity]

Love Amongst the Turtleducks (Part Three)

@zutaraweek​ for Day 3: Fuse. Also posted on Ao3. I struggled with this prompt, and yes, it’s a stretch. After this transition chapter, there is major fluff ahead. Also, the OCs’ names here, Amaruq and Takanni, both mean wolf in Inuit.

For the second day in a row, Katara’s healing lessons were cut short. Yesterday Dr. Yang was called into emergency surgery just after they finished a tour of the capital hospital. Katara desperately wanted to observe, but apparently the doctor ran things like the military, and she’d have to move up through the ranks first.

I’m already a master healer in the Water Tribe, Katara seethed. Although they didn’t do surgeries in the South Pole. It sounded fascinating… and also very serious, she conceded. She was here to expand her healing knowledge, not flaunt it.

Besides, she couldn’t complain too much because it meant she could spend the rest of the day with Zuko. Or the parts of his day that he wasn’t running between meetings, at least.

Today’s lessons with Dr. Yang were hard. Of course the royal family’s physician would be an expert on burn care. The method for making burn salve was frustratingly technical. Katara couldn’t stop thinking about Zuko’s scar, speculating on how he got it, wanting to know for sure. Would waterbending have healed it when it first happened? Could she heal it now with spirit water from the North Pole oasis?

Dr. Yang sensed Katara’s distress and insisted she take a break. Katara said she didn’t need one. Dr. Yang said some just don’t have the stomach. Katara cut her off with a stomp of her foot and loudly proclaimed, “I can do this!” Before their brewing argument reached full steam, though, two blue-clad tribesmen interrupted them.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Katara,” the younger one, Amaruq, said. “But there’s a problem with the air ship.” He cast a sideways glance at his fellow crewman.

The other one, Takaani, cleared his throat. “Yes, um… we were preparing for the trip back home when we found a stowaway in the engine room.”

Katara’s curiosity was definitely piqued. “I’ll come take a look.”

She resolutely ignored Dr. Yang’s glare and whatever the doctor mumbled under her breath as she left.

“Ohhhh, aren’t you cute!?” Katara crouched down and reached a hand toward the cowering wolf pup in the corner of the air ship’s engine room.

The responding growl sounded too menacing to belong to such a ball of fluff.

“We think it’s hurt,” Takaani said.

“Burned, maybe,” Amaruq added. “Got too close to the heating mechanism.”

Katara stood and looked around the room. There weren’t many supplies in here, but she soon spotted what she needed. “Amaruq, give me your bag.”

“What? Why?”

Takaani gave his fellow tribesman a look that said, “She’s the Chief’s daughter. Give her what she wants,” with his eyes alone.

Katara smirked at them both. They had served on her father’s crew, barely older than Sokka and among the youngest to leave their village when the men went to war. Before that, they had all been childhood playmates, of sorts. Mostly Katara would just throw snowballs at her brother and his annoying friends.

She took the bag and sifted through its contents. Amaruq did not disappoint—proven Water Tribe, through and through. She pulled out a package of half-eaten seal jerky and slipped his yak-hide waterskin over her shoulder.

The wolf perked up at the scent of meat and scrambled toward the offered treat. When Katara inched closer, he shuffled back a few steps and eyed her warily. He was favoring his right front paw, she noticed.

“He’s probably starving,” Takaani said. “We only just found him, so he’s been in here since we left the South.”

It took careful coaxing to get the pup to eat. And he wouldn’t let Katara examine his paw until she’d given him the last slice of seal jerky. Amaruq lamented his loss by sighing dramatically.

The wolf finally crawled into her lap with a soft whimper. She placed glowing hands on his matted fur and felt the mangled skin knit itself back together. It might’ve been a burn, but she wasn’t sure. This probably meant she needed to swallow her pride when it came to Dr. Yang.

Takaani and Amaruq’s eyes widened at the sight. They hadn’t grown up with healers—or benders, even—in the South.

“He still needs a few more healing sessions,” she said.

“How long do you think it’ll be? Our orders from the Chief—“ Amaruq was cut off by Takaani’s fake cough.

“It’s OK. You go back to the South Pole,” Katara replied. “This little guy can stay with me.”

Later, at the predetermined nightly turtleduck pond meeting, Katara introduced her new pet to her anti-pet friend. Zuko nearly had a conniption fit when the wolf lapped up huge mouthfuls of pondwater.

“I guess he’s thirsty,” Katara said with a giggle.

Zuko gripped his topknot-less hair. “But doesn’t he eat—“

Mama turtleduck—Zali?—squawked loudly at the intruder, but the wolf paid her and her brood no attention. Right now, he only had eyes for Katara. Bright blue Water Tribe eyes. It struck her how something so simple could make her feel at home.

The pup settled in Katara’s lap, and Zuko chanced a pat on its fluffy gray head.

“He needs a name,” she said. “I’m at a loss because we usually name everything after wolves. I’m not sure what to name an actual wolf.”

“My uncle names animals after how he finds them,” Zuko mused aloud. “Like he named a meadow vole that once took residence in his billowy sleeve Jacuzzi. And he named this ostrich horse we had Song…” Zuko trailed off, suddenly downcast.

“He stowed away in the engine room on the air ship,” Katara said. “So, what’s in an engine room? Controls? Fuse?”

“You need something that fuses fire and water, I think.”

“Right… because the Fire Nation built the air ship and then traded with the Water Tribe. Hmm… what about Smoke? Or Steam?”

Zuko shrugged. “Or I was thinking because he’s Water Tribe, but living here in the Fire Nation.”

Right. Like me.

They sat in companionable silence until the sun went down. Katara felt a weary Fire Lord relax against her shoulder. With the wolf pup asleep in her lap, she sheathed her hand in glowing water and ran it along the injured paw.

There was something about the scene—being here in the Fire Nation, healing, tears falling. She closed her eyes and saw flashes of lightening, a new scar forming. She opened them to find him staring, worried.

There were no words to describe what had happened between them that night. And no words to describe what she was feeling. She tucked her head under Zuko’s chin and pressed her cheek against his chest, soothed by the steadiness of his heartbeat.

“I think I’ll name him Storm,” she said finally.

#zutara #zutara week #zutara week 2020

[captain-azoren]

From One Monster to Another

*inspired by @ultranos and their frontier psychiatrist ideas. This scene is part of my Spirit Forged story set during Korra's time. I won't give too much detail for context, but it involves my half animal spirit OC at a crossroads as he tries to find his place in the world and decide his future.*

"Why would I want to go back to being human?" Raiga asked with a violent gesture of his claws. Korra flinched subtly, but enough for the half-spirit to notice. "I'm one of the strongest beings on this planet. Stronger than any bender, maybe even stronger than you. I'm not human, not animal, not spirit... I'm more..."

"It's not about strength, Raiga," Korra replied. "Being the Avatar, having all this power, it's a responsibility, and it's caused me just as much suffering as happiness. How much better is your life now?" Raiga frowned and let out a low growl, his hair and fur bristling. "You might love this power, but it's had a cost, hasn't it? You're lonely."

"I don't care!" Raiga snarled as his tail lashed. "I don't need people, I don't need spirits! I've lived on my own this long, and I can live out the rest of my life the same way." He turned and looked out over the cliff, past the spirit world's horizon. Floating whale-like spirits flew lazily in the distance. "Even when I was human, I was alone. That's what I am. This is what I am, and I'm not changing that. You wouldn't give up bending or being the Avatar just so you could fit in."

Korra winced at his last remark. He was not wrong. "Alright, fair point. I'm not going to try and change you if you don't want to," Korra took a few steps towards the beast-man, his back still turned to her. "That doesn't mean you have to be alone. There are people who will accept you." Raiga let out a bitter laugh.

"Yeah right. Look at me, I'm a monster," Raiga looked at his clawed hands and sighed. "They all think I'm a monster, and they always have..."

"I know a few things about monsters..." Came a voice, brittled by age, and yet giving off a commanding presence. Raiga and Korra both turned to see a small figure emerge from the forest. An old woman dressed in red robes, her snow hair in a tight topknot. Her face was framed by two sleek bangs, her features sharp, and her golden eyes bright behind the wrinkles. She gave them a nod and a sly, subtle smile.

"Master Azula!" Korra exclaimed with shock before quickly giving her firebending sifu a bow. Raiga did not offer the same courtesy, narrowing his eyes at the old woman.

"You..." Raiga whispered.

"Korra, I hope you haven't been slacking off," Azula said as she approached. "You're lucky I was in the neighborhood."

"W-What are you doing here?" Korra asked in bewilderment. She had not seen Azula for over half a decade.

"Just passing through the spirit world on my way home," Azula replied casually. "Thought I would pay my uncle a visit, and he told me what's been going on with your furry friend there." The old master went past the Avatar and stood face to face with Raiga. She was positively tiny compared to him, and yet somehow scarier than the beast-man. "Avatar, would you give us a moment?"

"I... I remember you..." Raiga said. "You're the one with blue fire.

"You're a hard one to forget as well," Azula said. "What with being the lion-tiger man who wrecked my uncle's tea shop."

"Didn't think you'd still be alive."

"Death has tried to claim me many times, and I've always managed to outsmart it," Azula smirked. "Old age is harder to outrun though, unlike you. You've barely changed in decades."

"One of the perks of being a monster," Raiga said grimly as he eyed Azula. "Why are you here?"

"To talk some sense into you," Azula replied curtly as she moved around Raiga. She held her hands behind her back as she looked out over the horizon with them. "How much do you remember, back when you met Aang and my brother, and me?"

"Not much, but enough," Raiga answered. "I remember they didn't trust you. I'd heard bad things." Azula nodded.

"Some of what you heard was true, and they had every right not to trust me," Azula took in a deep breath and sighed. "I thought I was a monster too, once. Some would have agreed."

"You, a monster?" Raiga scoffed. "Don't patronize me. You might have been one of the strongest, scariest, and deadliest firebenders, but you're still human."

"Yes, I am," Azula agreed softly. "But I'm not human just because of how I was born, and just because you grew some fur and a tail doesn't make you less human." Raiga furrowed his brow.

"It's not just my body, it's my mind..." The half-spirit replied. "I don't think like a normal human. Maybe I never have."

"There are all kinds of people," Azula was quick to respond. "You may never meet someone who thinks exactly like you do, but you can't use that as a reason to cut yourself off from everyone. You're afraid."

"I am not-"

"Yes, you are," The firebending master interrupted. "You're doing all this because you're scared of being hurt. You want to escape that pain by driving everyone away, by becoming a monster." Raiga stared at her in stunned silence. Azula gave him a stern yet understanding glance. "I've tried that, to forsake my humanity so I wouldn't have to endure the pain of loneliness and rejection, but it isn't worth it."

"Then what did you do?"

"I got help," Azula answered simply. "From those who didn't give up on me, even when I was ready to give up on myself. I don't know if you've noticed, but Korra and her friends have been trying to help you too."

"They're just trying to control me because I'm dangerous."

"That's what I also used to think," Azula said softly. "It's hard to trust when fear has moved in. I know how difficult it is, but if you really want things to get better, you have to be brave. It's going to hurt sometimes, but you have to keep trying. The pain, the conflict, it proves you're still human, that you still have a heart. Don't throw it away."

Raiga listened to her, taking in Azula's every word. His pointed ear twitched as he contemplated his choices.

"I... I like this form," Raiga said. "I feel like myself, I don't want to give it up."

"I know," Azula said. "That's how I feel about my firebending. Some people wanted to strip me of it, but that power belongs to me. It is me. I'll never let it go, no matter how much it might frighten others. That's their problem. Still, if you're going to keep this power, you had best learn to wield it responsibly."

"Again with responsibility," Raiga huffed. "And what about all this?" He gestured to his face, adorned with rusty stripes on his cheeks.

"I'm afraid I can't offer you much advice when it comes to your appearance, but for what it's worth, you don't look half bad," The old master said with a cheeky smirk. "If someone won't accept you for the way you look, then they aren't worth your time., simple as that. I can guarantee you though, what a few would call beastly..." Azula held her palm open and a little blue flame ignited out of it. "...many more would call beautiful."

"Hmm," Raiga seemed to acquiesce. "What am I supposed to do though? Keep living in the woods? I can't settle down and have some normal human life in the city..."

"No one said you had to be normal. What you need is to find yourself a purpose," Azula began to say. "You're a unique creature, I think you can find an unfilled niche. I heard you've taken down some powerful spirits. That's not something just anyone can do. Even Avatars have difficulty with that." The firebender shot Korra a glance. The Avatar sheepishly looked away.

Of course, Korra was not the only Avatar who had clashed with spirits. Every Avatar before her had dealt with them, often very old and powerful, and always with great struggle. Being part spirit himself, Raiga seemed to be the only person Korra knew who could effectively fight spirits on their own terms without the same drawbacks Kuruk had suffered.

"More and more spirits have come into the physical world," Azula continued. "Many friendly, but many dark and dangerous. I think Korra could use a little help keeping them in check. Also, there will be more like you as humans and spirits cross paths."

"Like me?" Raiga asked with confusion.

"Spirit forged," Azula said with a nod of confirmation. "They may not all be as nice to look at as you, but there have been and will be others transformed by the spirits. Perhaps they could use some guidance, once you've found your own path."

"Maybe..." Raiga said, receding deep into thought. Perhaps he had just been overwhelmed and let himself get carried away. "Thanks for the talk. I think I'm good now."

"My pleasure," Azula said as she turned away and headed back for the path she had come from. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be on my way home. My dum-dum of a husband must be worried sick, bless his sweet heart."

"You can get back to the Fire Nation from here?" Korra asked.

"Hm-hm, I didn't say it was the Fire Nation," Azula gave the Avatar a devilish smirk. "It was nice seeing you again, Korra. Let Zuzu know when you're ready to learn lightning and I'll be in touch."

"It was good to see you as well, Master Azula," Korra gave a bow and a salute, and Azula bowed back. The Avatar frowned as she came to a realization, "Wait, you have a husband?" Korra looked back up, but the firebending master was already gone.

*yes, I am alluding to my other main fic*

#azula #korra #raiga #the spirit forged #atla #avatar the last airbender #the legend of korra #fanfic #fan fiction #lok #tlok #legend of korra

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Ten Sides (Part 4)

She nearly cries when full lucidity comes back to her. Her hair is so short. For her weakness, she is every bit the disgrace that it indicates. She supposes that she doesn’t deserve to fashion her hair into its topknot. She should have fought back. She should have put up more resistance. She rubs her hands over her face. Her stomach is already queasy and it grows queasier still when it fully registers just what had happened. Just what she had said.

Azula sneers, as she recalls the man’s smirk. That sick satisfaction that had come from her submission. She feels doubly anxious knowing that he has, without particularly trying, found a weakness to exploit. She rubs her hands over her face a second time, feeling more resigned than before.

“Hi, Azula.” Aang greets sheepishly. He hands her a plate. She doesn’t look at the food before shoving it away.

“I’m sorry about…”

“Don’t.” She scoffs.

“I really do want to help you…”

“Oh you’ve helped very much.”

“I’m trying to actually help. I don’t hate you and I don’t want you to hate me.”

Azula’s lips curve into a smirk that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She reaches her hand out and slowly, tentatively brushes her thumb over his cheek. She feels him cringe. “Don’t worry, Avatar.” She drawls. “If you pull the right strings, the right way, I won’t.”

He flinches back. “That’s not what I want.”

“Then what do you want, Avatar?”

“I already told you that I want to--”

“You are helping, Avatar. You’re helping them.” She gives a dismissive wave. “So why don’t you get back to it?”

“Why did you call him, ‘father’?”

Azula tenses. “Because you’ve been ravaging my mind since I got here.”  The lie so easily slips from her lips. And perhaps because it is partially true. She can’t imagine that reality would have distorted that far from her, had she not been reduced to Nari again. But that it had come out at all...she shudders. It wouldn’t have if the foundations weren’t there.

“Your dad treated you like that?”

“Leave me.”

“Because if he did, you can talk to me about it.”

Leave. Me.” She half-growls.

She waits until the door closes behind him before she folds in on herself and cries. Clearly she isn’t as lucid as she had imagined. Azula doesn’t cry. Azula is not a crier. Azula is not this weak. She is not Azula.

.oOo.

“Why are we trying to make her submissive again.” Aang throws his hands up. He is afraid to look at Azula and gauge her reaction. “Shouldn’t I try to make her feel happy? That’s what I was sent here to do. Help her recover.”

The man sighs. “Avatar, in order for that to work, we have to make her submit. Do you think that she will let you induce happiness without...softening her to the idea?”

“Haven’t you considered that she might want to be happy on her own and that we don’t have to force her to want to be?” He asks. “Why do I have to tamper with her spirit energy to make her happy? Why can’t I just, I don’t know, talk to her?”

Sangyul roles his eyes. “Clearly you have not worked with her very closely. She’s stubborn and impossible. You have to give her at least a little push to get her to open up.”

“Fine!” Aang throws his hands up. “Then why don’t we do that? Why don’t I give her a little push and then talk to her…”

“Because that’s tedious. I think that the Fire Lord is hoping for a speedy recovery and this has already been going on for too long.”

“I don’t think that Zuko cares how fast or slow her recovery is. He just wants her to get better.”

Sangyul pinches the bridge of his nose. “Have you tried talking to her about her...complex?”

“Wha-what?”

“Have you confronted Azula about calling me her father? How did that go for you? I imagine that she was very receptive and open to that discussion.”

Aang swallows. “That’s because I have to start smaller. I think that maybe the person I should be talking to about that is you!”

Sangyul quirks a brow.

“If you’re bad enough that she’d compare you to Ozai, maybe you’re the problem.”

“Or maybe, she is insane and draws parallels where there are none. Perhaps, you’re the same as she. Should I have you evaluated, Avatar? We’re trying to help her and you’re throwing baseless accusations at us.”

“Baseless?”

“Let’s go over what happed yesterday. I gave her a chance to get out of her room, get dressed up, put on some makeup, and fix her hair up nicely. We don’t do that for all of our patients.”

“But you didn’t give her a…”

“Choice? But I did, I asked her which outfit she’d like to wear.”

“And then you…”

“Made a suggestion and she decided to take it. The decision was hers. You’re paranoia is not healthy, Avatar Aang. Not for you and not for her. One of the reasons that she is here with us is because she has all of these delusions and warped fantasies. She thinks that everyone is out to assassinate her. The last thing she needs is for you to feed these delusions.”

Aang swallows.

“If you want to help her, you’ll go out there and start...softening her up.”

.oOo.

This time she puts up a fight. She has to, she can already hear him asking her to talk about her father. And she can hear herself spilling every little detail. She can’t let that happen. In her mind, she throws her fire up as far as she can manage. But she cannot lift it high enough. The Avatar leaps over it and his phantasmal fingers, once again stroke and caress her aura until it is tickled the right shade of white. This time he doesn’t slip any pink into the mix.

It matters not, she feels herself fading into the background as another version of her steps forward. Distantly in her mind she thinks that, perhaps, she is the version to be coaxed forward. That this immaculately white aura is her default. Really, it makes sense--she is certain that everyone is born with a pure white aura. Maybe Nari is real and Azula is the illusion. Maybe it is better that way; she is certain that Nari is more desirable. More likeable. And so Azula slips into the background, into the dark recesses of her own mind, where she belongs.

Like clockwork, the transition is fuzzy as her awareness comes back. This is always the worst part, coming to and feeling the binds biting against her wrists. She can never seem to shake the momentary sense of panic, the crawling and reeling of her belly. “Avatar?”

“Yeah?”

She takes a deep breath. Her distress beginning to subside.

“Where’s Sangyul?”

“He said that he has to do something and he wants me to talk to you until you get back.”

“About my father?”

“Is that what you want to talk about.”

She shakes her head.

“Then we don’t have to.”

But there is a part of her that itches to talk about it. Yearns to let it out and reach out for some sort of reassurance. “Sometimes when he gets angry…”

Aang raises a hand. “You said that you didn’t want to talk about it.”

Azula swallows.

“So lets talk about something else. Did these guys ever try to help you? Has being here done anything good for you?”

She thinks for a moment. “At first, I guess. Before doctor Anshin left. He was...alright. They let me go outside more. The food was better.”

“Were you happier?”

She furrows her brows. “I...I don’t think so. I’m not a happy person. But I was less unhappy.” She reconsiders. “Unless you count those times when you…”

“I don’t.” He says. “I meant if you felt happy on your own. When was the last time you felt happy on your own?”

She thinks again, rubbing her hands over her face. She doesn’t remember. She doesn’t know. She isn’t sure if it is that she doesn’t know, doesn’t remember, or simply was never happy. She finds herself feeling both sorrowful and angry. Helpless and anxious.  Her lower lip trembles and her breathing quickens. A orange-red glimmer within tells her that she needs to pull herself together before she makes a fool of herself. It is overtaken and conquered by white before it has a chance to branch out. This shift hikes her nerves even further.

“Do you need me to calm you down? I can calm you down if you need that?”

Her spirit energy is already twisted and distorted, knotted in a way that she can’t quite understand much less untangle. She knows that letting him in a second time will only bind it tighter. But, Agni, does she need something to take the edge off. At her nod, those spectral fingers are gently working with the threads. She expects a pure yellow shot of happiness, instead he mixes the blue of serenity with a dash of yellow--a preventative measure, she is well aware that pure blue usually leaves her feeling melancholy--and a touch of turquoise. She isn’t sure what turquoise means.

But this time when she fully emerges into the world outside of her mind, her breathing is even and her body is significantly less tense. Perhaps she should ask him to mix blue with white every time.

“Better?”

“Much.”

“Were you ever happy, Azula?”

“I think so.” It is a weighted question. “Usually in short bursts. Sometimes I think that I thought I was happy when I wasn’t.” She closes her eyes and lays back, hands clasped over belly as she waits for the last of the nervous tickles to subside.

.oOo.

Aang thinks that he ought to stop asking questions. He is plenty aware that Azula wouldn’t be so freely offering these personal details were it not for his own intervention. Only after having done it does it occur to him that he has just figured out exactly how to give Sangyul what he wants. Relaxation is the key.

“I think that…”

“Azula, can we talk about something else.”

She fixes him with a perplexed stare. “But I thought…”

“Not right now.” He smiles. “If you still want to talk about this later, we can.”

“Then what are we going to talk about?”

“Do you prefer stories about Sokka embarrassing himself at a poetry reading or one about being stuck in a cave with singing nomads?”

“Depends, are you actually going to be singing?”

“I sure will!”

“Poetry it is.”

“Hey!”

She smiles. It is the sort of smile that reaches her eyes. It is warm and gentle. He wishes that it was real.

“Follow me, Azula.” She flinches at the sound of his voice.

“I was going to tell her a story.”

Sangyul looks anything but entertained.

“It makes her happy. That’s what we’re trying to do. So let me finish.” Aang insists.

“Avatar, a foolish story isn’t going to fix years of alleged abuse and trauma.”

“And what you’re about to do will?”

“It will be a step in the right direction. Azula, stand up and follow me.”

“You can tell me the story another time, Aang. Thank you.” His heart aches as she rises. The unease swelling in his tummy is nauseating.

“You can stay put.” Sangyul says to him. “We shouldn’t be long. I’d just like to talk to her alone.”  The sound of the door closing behind him leaves Aang feeling hollow with dread. He lets a critical ten minutes go by before he slips out of the room and follows the sound of Sangyul’s voice.

“Now let’s try something else. Something a little less superficial.”

Aang hears the slightest whimper. He cringes. And when he throws the door open, he makes no attempt to mask his intent. “What are you doing to her?”

“I’m not doing anything to her.”

“It sounds like you’re hurting her.”

“Well I am not.”

He balls his fists, he hasn’t even looked over at her.  

Sangyul takes a step closer and leans in. Lowly, as though it matters to him whether or not Azula hears, he says “she’s been particularly susceptible today. Did you do something different?”

“No.”

“Perhaps a different combination of emotions?”

He feels as though he is speaking with Kho. The slightest hitch of his voice will cost him everything. Will cost Azula everything. “Not that I know of.”  

“Nothing at all?”

“Nothing at all. You didn’t leave me with her long enough.”

“Hmm.” Sangyul rises back to his full height and claps his hands behind his back. “At any rate, I suggest that you leave again. I will proceed weather you do or not”

“Proceed with what?” He finally tears his eyes away from the doctor and peeks at Azula. In her hand she holds a small blade, there is a small and thin line drawn upon the palm of her other. “What did you do to her?”

“I didn’t do anything, did I, Azula?”

Azula shakes her head.

“Who did that?”

“I did.” Azula answers.

“And you’re going to do it again. This time…” He trails a finger just under his eye. “Right there. It doesn’t have to be deep.”

“Azula don’t!” Aang calls as she lifts her hand.

“Go on, Azula.” His voice is low again. And by the spirits, he does sound like Ozai when he does that.  It is more than enough. She traces the blade over her pale skin. A small cut as delicate is the flesh it is torn into.

Sangyul tilts his head slightly up, “fascinating. Avatar, are you sure that you didn’t do anything different?”

“I’m certain.”

The man turns his attention back on Azula. “You haven’t used your fire in a while, Azula. Would you like to?”

She nods vigorously.

“Go on.”

She holds her hand out, Aang notices that it is trembling ever so slightly. For the first time in ages he sees a brilliant flame. Her brows knit and her breathing quickens again. “No.” She mummers. “No. No.”  She lets the fire die and brings it to her palm again, each time her no is louder. And then she looks up and away from her fire. Up at Sangyul with such a simmering loathing. A wrath so deep and so intense that it can only be a resurgence of the real her. It is the re-awakening of a dragon that has been kicked and beaten in its sleep.

But it isn’t the Azula he is used to. It starts as a roar and builds into a scream as she throws her fire over Sangyul and the nurse nearest to him. The man throws himself to the floor as the nurse seem to bathe in it. But only for a moment before she realizes that her target has moved away. The nurse falls to the floor writhing. Two more of them, one is a man more than twice the princess’ weight. He tackles her to the floor, his grip is crushing, Aang thinks that he hears a snap or a crunch. The man is straddling her, pinning her hands above her head. She struggles, wincing and wheezing.

“She can’t breath!” Aang shouts.

Sangyul moves to hover over her, to look her in the eye as her vision starts to dim. Even still the smaller nurse feels obligated to prick her with the sedative. Azula’s struggles slow and her limbs go limp. Her fury fully extinguished just as quickly as it had come over her and Aang isn’t sure if the sedative had simply acted that fast or it is the result of cut breathing.

“Take her to her room and get that feral bitch a straight jacket.” Sangyul snarls.  

Aang isn’t sure what he is playing at when he says, “I told you that I didn’t do anything different today.”

“Get out of my sight, Avatar. And come back when you can do your job right.”

“I’d rather not do a ‘right’ job when the job is wrong.”

Sangyul looks up and gives a soft chuckle, his anger seeming to cool. “My apologies, Avatar. I shouldn’t speak to you like that. Your services are very important and I don’t think that Azula would take well to you leaving.”

“I think that she hates me because of what I’m doing to her.” He pauses. “So I’m not going to do it anymore. You’re going to let me help her the right way. Without spirit vines.”

Sangyul paces back and forth for a moment, rubbing a hand through his slicked back locks. “Well how about this, Avatar. You keep doing what we ask of you or we might decide that the princess is too dangerous to work with. It might happen that she threatens me and I am forced to resort to drastic measures. It would be unfortunate if she had a meltdown and I had to kill her in an attempt to fend her off.” He pauses and comes to loom before Aang with his hands clasped behind his back. “And what I ask of you now is that you take her bending. Her little outburst was a fluke and we can’t have another incident like that.”

Aang’s mouth runs dry.

“So what do you say, Avatar? She’s sleeping nice and peacefully, you can just pluck it right out of her, no resistance. And then we can work on figuring out how to do away with that...dangerous part of her. Though I have a feeling that she’ll be a lot more...receptive to treatment. without her flame.”

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Aang #Azulaang #Fanfiction

[moltenhair]

Season 3 Minus Gothel (2)

[Part 1]

This is the second part of what I managed to write. No Cass in this one since originally going to be a complete season rewrite. Which meant rewriting other parts... But then I realized I was just doing a novelization of the show for these parts and decided to scrap it 2.5 chapters in and only focus on the Cass parts. 

Which I had all plotted out before life drained me of my ambition and energy.

without further ado.. Chapter 2 (The return to Corona re-written)

-

It was a long ride home.. But it wasn’t quiet. Rapunzel kept her energy high and a smile on her face. In the basket of their hot air balloon- brought surprisingly from Corona by Ulf- she pointed excitedly at every familiar sight. So many places they had scene on their journey. It was unbelievable to think about just how far they’d come since they embarked on this mission. The black rock trail had taken them beyond the bend of the earth and to lands they never could have imagined. But also some familiar lands that were known to a few of them. Like Vardaros. Rapunzel waved enthusiastically as she spotted Hook Hand and Hookfoot’s tour caravan in the canyons below. But they were too busy being lectured by Quaid and Vex for a parking violation to notice the balloon. 

But soon, on that glowing horizon stood those familiar spires. Standing tall above the beautiful island kingdom- The Castle of Corona. Rapunzel never realized how much she could miss the sight of those towers. She couldn’t wait to be home with her mom and dad. She was going to give them the biggest hug the moment she saw them.

Still there was this feeling of… regret. She didn’t betray those feelings to her dear friends, but Rapunzel couldn’t help but feel guilty looking at those towers. In her own mind they had always stood as a symbol of strength. Peace. Unity. Love… Home. But the night before she had learned the truth of what some in her kingdom felt when they looked up at the castle. It made Rapunzel’s insides feel tight and squirmy. That feeling, even if it wasn’t her fault, was hard to shake. She couldn’t let anyone realize, though. Things were already so bad and they were returning to Corona without a friend.. She couldn’t make this about herself...

As the balloon touched down and bounced against the cobblestone streets of Corona, a giddiness filled everyone trapped in the tight confines of its basket. Eugene barely waited for it to be anchored before throwing open the woven door to step out. Rapunzel followed after and took a deep breath. Ahh, sweet personal space!

“Alright, it’s been great. But we have all been together way too long and I need a break from your faces.” Eugene teased before looking at Rapunzel with a playful smirk and a wink. “Except for you, Sunshine.”

The princess smiled, her heart warming. She knew he was trying to crack jokes to keep everyone’s mind off of what just happened. Eugene cared so much about keeping the people around him safe and happy. And thanks to his distraction, Rapunzel was able to enjoy looking out at her home town for the first time in more than a year. 

“We’re home..” She sighed, looking out into the surprisingly empty streets. But that barely mattered as Rapunzel’s heart lit up with joy. “We’re home!”

The princess took off down the streets, taking in the buildings as she passed them. Each so familiar and just as she left them. Maybe with a little extra garbage laying in the roads, but maybe it was a bank holiday or something and the trash people had the day off. Each shop window brought back a beautiful memory. The dress shop! The women who worked there designed her coronation gown! The bakery! Feldspar’s shoes! Rapunzel had never worn them but Feldspar was an artist with boot leather. 

Even Monty’s Sweet Shoppe brought a smile to her face. In fact, she’s really been craving some of Attilla’s cupcakes since she’d left. No one could make a cupcake quite like that lovable ruffian. Rapunzel marched up to the shop door and grabbed the handle, ready to swing it open and announce her return with an order of a dozen raspberry cupcakes… But when she pulled on the door it didn’t budge. She shook the handle, a frown marring her face, but it still didn’t open. She tried pushing instead… Still nothing. Her green eyes looked skyward and found the sun still hanging high up there. Monty was usually open this time of day. Did he change his schedule?

Rapunzel cupped her hands against the glass and peered through them into the shop interior. It was unusually dark inside. The shelves were fully stocked but it didn’t seem like there was anyone inside. It didn’t seem like it had been open for several days.

“Ohh.. I see.” Rapunzel laughed, stepping back from the door. She could see what was happening here. Her head turned and she looked at the chameleon perched on her shoulder. Pascal looked concerned more than amused. “I know what’s going on! Monty saw us coming and locked up the shop to keep me from buying anything!” She raised her voice so that the old man could hear her if he was inside hiding behind the front counter. “Very funny, Monty!”

“I dunno, Princess…” Lance approached from behind, his gaze flicking from one dark window to the next. “It doesn’t seem like anyone is home.”

Rapunzel’s smile fell. He was right. Not even her yelling had attracted a civilian. Nor had their balloon landing in the square attracted a guard. It was like no one was in the town at all.. What happened to everyone?

“Maybe there’s another festival or something.” Eugene suggested, sensing the rising tension. He took point, leading Rapunzel and their friends down a street. Walking backwards so he could continue to sooth them with that winning smile of his. “Come on. I’m sure they’re all around here some-WHA-”

He fell backwards suddenly, tripping over something none of them expected to see coming around the corner. When Eugene moved, Feldspar was lying on the ground, clutching a basket full of minerals that had spilled out onto the street. He groaned and sat up, looking startled and afraid. 

“Feldspar! It’s you!” Rapunzel exhaled, feeling sweet relief at finally seeing one of her kingdom’s people. “Where is everyone? We-”

“No, no! No time!” The shoemaker scrambled to his feet, shoveling his curious haul back into his basket. The look in his eyes was nothing but panic. “I have a quota to make! I can’t be late again!”

Now THIS was strange. Usually nothing shook Feldspar this bad. Well.. Nothing other than someone wearing suede shoes in the rain. 

“Quota? What is going on?” Rapunzel asked, putting her hand on his shoulder to keep him from running off. “What’s all this for? Where are all the people?”

The man huffed, his ginger brows furrowing, “In the mines!” He scoffed, pointing back the way he’d come. “Everyone in the kingdom has been ordered to dig up as much of this weird mineral as possible for Varian’s… whatever it is he does with it! Everyone’s down there. It’s awful!”

Varian? He’s got the whole town trapped in a mine?

Rapunzel glanced sideways at Pascal and Eugene. The dread was shared between the three of them. 

“Don’t worry, Feldspar.” The princess spoke again, “I’m going to talk to my father and get to the bottom of this.”

“Good luck.” the shoemaker shrugged her hand off of his shoulder to continue to walk away to wherever he was supposed to check in. “I don’t know how much good it’ll do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eugene asked, folding his arms across his chest with an arched brow. The people of Corona not having faith in their king? That was unusual.

“I mean I don’t think the king will do anything. He was the one who gave the order.”

Rapunzel charged those castle doors without a moment of hesitation. There were no guards to slow her down, no Nigel to announce her. Her bare feet pounded down the castle halls and carried her through the throne room doors.. Where she found her parents sitting on the thrones. Seeing them for the first time in a year almost made Rapunzel forget what she’d come to confront them about. There they were! And this time they were REAL!

“Mom! Dad!” Rapunzel ran up to them, throwing an arm around each of them to pull them into a tight hug. “I’ve missed you guys so much!”

“Young lady!” The king balked, stiffening in her hold. “What is going on?”

“Frederic… Who is this?” The queen asked quietly, confusion clear in her voice.

Rapunzel released them, her eyes blinking in confusion as she looked between her mother and father. Why were they looking at her like they had no idea who she was? Why didn’t they recognize their own daughter?

“Mom, dad, it’s me.” She took a step back, gesturing to herself with a tense smile, “Your daughter?”

“Daughter?” Frederic and Arianna parotted in unison, looking at each other like they had just received alarming news. Like they had no idea they had a child at all. What was going on in Corona. First the citizens and now this?

“Dad! It’s me! What’s gotten into you?” The princess gripped her by the shoulders, “What is....that?” Her eyes fell to the medallion hanging around her father’s neck. Where there was a Corona sun there was now an ominous symbol of… A three eyed crow? Maybe? It was definitely familiar even if she couldn’t determine what it was. 

“Like it? It’s Saporian.”

As Rapunzel turned she was greeted with the sight of her friends being roughly shoved further into the throne room by a large brute she didn’t recognize. Followed by a small, slightly deranged looking woman and a face too familiar for comfort… Andrew. Smirking smugly with his hands upon his hips. Soaking in his decisive victory. At least what he seemed to think this was.

“Ah, right. Less-attractive-topknot-guy. I slightly remember you.” Eugene quipped as he straightened his jacket. 

“Andrew? You’re behind this?” Rapunzel grit her teeth and stepped down from the thrones where her parents still sat. They seemed undisturbed by the sudden appearance of a man who was sent as a spy to topple their kingdom. “What did you do to my parents?!”

“And what did you do to the Sweet Shoppe?!” Lance interjected, sounding the most offended out of anyone.

Andrew glanced at Lance only a moment before moving on as if he hadn’t heard it. “Corona is under new management, Princess. Thanks to a little help from my former cellmate…”

Cellmate? Rapunzel straightened, preparing for any manner of ruthless criminal to appear. The Stabbingtons? Had Lady Caine beaten them back to Corona? As a shadow appeared in the archway leading out of the throne room, her fingers curled into tight fists, ready to fight… But then, wearing a bandanna over his face and a heavy black jacket (that was too big for him)… emerged… VARIAN?

As he stepped into the light, dressed in dark clothes and heavy boots to match these usurpers, he pulled the bandana away from his face to reveal a cruel grin... And a crudely drawn on goatee. Which was, apparently, meant to look convincing. Rapunzel didn’t have the heart to tell him it wasn’t. Even if he had kidnapped her mom once.

“Welcome home, Rapunzel.” he taunted.

“Varian… You’re working with Andrew? You erased my parents’ memories?!” 

“Who, me? Oohoho-” He laughed haughtily, as if this were all just some joke. “No, actually. As you know, I’m all about the science.. I helped with the breakout and the takeover but my friend Clementine here-” He gestured to the petite woman at his side, “Added some… er.. Texture.”

Rapunzel looked at this ‘Clementine’ and saw a very familiar item in her hand. A Wand of Oblivium. Rapunzel knew it well. She also knew that the effects were irreversable without the antidote.

“Give my parents back their memories. NOW.” She barked.

“Sorry, no can do, Princess.” Andrew stepped in, “We’ve got plans for them.. But don’t worry. Thanks to my new pal here, you’ll barely notice anything changed.”

Rapunzel and her friends shared a look, all equally worried about what that meant.

Andrew nudged Varian forward, smirking, “Tell ‘em.”

Varian marched forward, head held high. That look in his eye from the night Rapunzel almost died trying to free his father. But something was different. “You see, Princess, I’ve studied the magic in Clementine’s wand and devised a formula that, once finished, will create a gas with the power to erase every memory in Corona.”

Rapunzel felt a chill strike her to her bones. “What?”

“I call it ‘Quirinium’.. In honor of my father.” Varian’s grin turned sour. Into a bitter scowl. “So no one will ever be able forget who they abandoned.”

A murmur from the back of the room. Lance’s voice cutting through the tension, “Aren’t they going to have a hard time remembering after you erase their memories?”

Varian seemed caught off  guard. As if he hadn’t realized that himself or it hadn’t mattered. Rapunzel had a feeling that the alchemist hadn’t gotten much of a chance to think this plan through. Maybe there was hope to talk him out of it.

“I- It.. It doesn't matter!” Varian dismissed Lance’s words with a harsh shake of his head. “This is the only way-”

“I think that’s enough talk.” Andrew interjected, placing himself back at the front of his group. He drew his sword, pointing it menacingly at the princess. “I think it’s time to say goodbye to our uninvited guests.” 

(end)

#rapunzel's tangled adventure #tangled the series #Season 3 minus gothel #my art #fic #long post

[kkachi95]

New canon information from The Rise of Kyoshi

Alright, so I’m little bit over 42% through The Rise of Kyoshi and I’m HOOKED.

This book does a lot of worldbuilding and the new characters are well-developed.

I’ll be consolidating new information I find from this book on this post. I’ll keep updating the list as I progress through the book!

SPOILERS, obviously

1) KYOSHI

Kyoshi was abandoned as a child by her parents, who were leaders of an underground criminal organization.

Her mother was a rogue airbender hailing from the Eastern Air Temple. Yep, you heard it right, Kyoshi is half air nomad. Her mother apparently became a master at young age and fell in love with Kyoshi’s father, an outlaw, while traveling. Kyoshi’s mother modified her arrow tattoo into a serpent and her airbending ability lost its power due to her attachment to worldly concerns. She compensated with a pair of fans, which Kyoshi inherited.

Kyoshi’s father is from a family lineage that traces back to Royal Theater School in Ba Sing Se. Kyoshi inherited her make up and headdress from him.

Kyoshi was very tall even in her young age. In her teenage years, she is constantly described with terms like “giant,” “massive,” and “towering.” Since she’s taller than most men, I’m going to assume she’s at least 6 ft.

She spent her early childhood as a street urchin in Yokoya and was neglected by the villagers until she was discovered and taken under the care of an air nomad named Kelsang, who was a companion of Avatar Roku. She was, and still is relentlessly bullied by other children in Yokoya.

Kyoshi is initially very shy, non-confrontational, has very low self esteem, and inept at earthbending. Kyoshi is extremely strong for her age as she lifts a man by his neck without any trouble. Also, she has distinct freckles!

She is an extreme clean freak with a constant urge to “maintain order and minimize clutter." She starts out as a serveant assigned to clean up after the (misidentified) Avatar.

I believe Kyoshi is 16+ years old in this story.

Kyoshi’s outfit has chailmain armor underneath it, and she started wearing gloves after suffering major lightning wound on her hands.

2) KYOSHI’S COMPANIONS

As a teenager, Kyoshi has two friends: Yun and Rangi, who are both her age. I won’t go too much into their plot.

Yun is the ‘misidentified’ Earthbending Avatar who is a former street urchin. He is said to be handsome, playful and flirty. He has brown hair and jade green eyes.

He is extremely talented in earthbending and is loved by everyone. He ships Kyoshi and Rangi but also flirts with Kyoshi too (and basically everyone)

He was discovered ‘late’ as the Avatar and genuinely wants to do his best as the new Avatar.

Rangi is a Fire Nation noble girl who is sworn and honor bound to serve as the Avatar’s bodyguard. She is military-trained in the Fire Army Junior Corps. She is intimidating and hot-headed, but also very protective of her friends.

She is said to be beautiful, with delicate skin, porcelain doll face and jet black hair. She has a “charred rasp” voice and “dark bronze” eyes.

She is the "straight man" character of Kyoshi's entourage and takes things very seriously, but she's also the unintentionally funniest character of the group. She eventually becomes Kyoshi's swon bodyguard and depite her best judgement, she's dragged into many questionable situations by Kyoshi. Rangi is definitely my favorite new character. Think of her as a more sane, less murder-y version of Azula.

Her nickname: topknot, hairpins, and hotwoman

Rangi’s mother, Hei-Ran, was a companion of Avatar Kuruk, who gave up her commission in the Fire Nation Army, then later her position as headmistress in the Royal Fire Academy for Girls, to teach the Avatar. Hei-Ran and Rangi are said to be spitting image of each other.

Kyoshi is romantically attraced to both Yun and Rangi.

Kirima is a young female waterbender from the outlaw group Kyoshi’s parents founded.

She has wolf-like features and piercing blue eyes. Kirima is also said to be lithe and light on her feet.

She’s easy-going and likes to tease people, especially Rangi.

Wong is a huge male earthbender in his 30s from the outlaw group Kyoshi’s parents founded.

He is very tall, thick, and has smooth, clean shaven face. He has a very prominent protruding gut and isn’t the most loquacious type.

Lek is the youngest male Earthbender member of the group and is said to be 14-15.

He is from the Si Wong desert and was brought into the group by Kyoshi’s parents, whom he thinks very highly of. This caused Kyoshi to resent him initially.

He values his family and likes to tease other people just like Kirima. Lek has very precise control of small earth projectiles, which he uses as bullets.

Lao Ge is an old, mysterious Earthbending assassin who is said to be hundreds of years old. He pretends to be a drunken fool and only Kyoshi knows of his true identity.

He travels with the group and goes off on his own to kill people he deem unworthy of living. Kyoshi asks him to be her Sifu.

3) THE AVATAR CYCLE

Avatar Kuruk died at the age of 33. He was said to be one of the greatest Pai Sho players in history and a highly-skilled bender, but lacked leadership and diplomatic skills. He spent his time traveling around the four nation seeking pleasure. He was also one of the best hunters to have ever lived.

Two of Avatar Yangchen’s friends and teachers died protecting her from the enemy.

Each nation has its own way of discovering the Avatar and identifying a toddler’s ability to bend

Being the Avatar’s companion was considered to be an honor beyond reckoning that only few got to experience. Those who taught the Avatar held massive influence over the world.

Period between the death of the previous Avatar and discovery of his/her successor is often filled with political turmoil. The Rise of Kyoshi is set in a politically turbulent time as Kuruk died in young age and the new Avatar was discovered much later than usual. This led to the rise of many opportunist criminal factions.

4) BENDING

Unlike the show, bending is openly depicted as being LETHAL in this book. People are impaled, burned, crushed, buried, sliced, and so on.

Seismic sense is a skill shared by all earthbenders, not just Toph. Most people’s skills are extremely rudimentary, though.

‘Dust stepping’ and ‘mist stepping’ are abilities practiced by certain earth and waterbenders to create floating platforms that move with them, which allow them to run through thin air. Rangi mimics this move with firebending after having witnessed it.

Firebenders have naturally warm bodies and they can project heat, which allows them to do things like increasing a room’s temperature by several degrees.

Firebenders' "inner fire" allow them to resist poison.

People in the Fire Nation identify bending ability of their children by placing a bowl full of highly-flammable materials to see if their children can resonate with it. This is done as early as possible to prevent accidental fires as young children don't have good control over their flames.

Lightning bending is a skill so rare that people thought it of it as a folktale or a long lost knowledge. Barely any living witnesses who can confirm its existence exists.

Airbender are seemingly immune to the weather.

5) EARTH KINGDOM

Earth Kingdom is highly fragmented and has multiple kings. This is attributed to Ba Sing Se’s failure or unwillingness to actively assert control over the continent. 

Bandits and pirates plague the countryside. Small settlements and towns have to form militias and fend for themselves as the official Earth Kingdom military seems to neglect their plight.   

Earth Kingdom’s Northern and Southern dialect are said to be so different that they might as well be different language. People of the Si Wong Desert barely share any culture or custom with rest of the Earth Kingdom.

Beifongs were known for their wealth even in this era.

Kyoshi Island was originally known as Yokoya. Farming yields little and people scrape by to meet end’s meet. People here are said to wear blue clothes despite their earth kingdom heritage. Kyoshi was left here as a child and initially grew up as a street urchin because the villagers neglected her for being an outsider.

6) FIRE NATION

Apparently, firebenders are notorious for always talking about honor.

Fire Nation was involved in a conflict with the Earth Kindom in the distant (?) past.

Fire Navy is the most capable Navy in the world.

Royal Fire Nation Academy for Girl holds Agni Kais and there are many “accidental” kills.

Firebending instructors used to maim their students for insubordination.

Hair is heavily linked with honor. Losers of Agni Kai would shave parts of their head bald as sign of humility but would leave the top knot alone since it’s considered sacred. It was never touched except in circumstances akin to death.

7) WATER TRIBES

The Souther Water tribe is said to be poor, undeveloped, and vulnerable. It’s significantly behind the rest of the world in terms of development. Southern Water Tribe doesn’t have a legitimate Navy because it doesn’t have trees necessary for shipbuilding. It is a peaceful nation, though it is involved in a territorial dispute over an island with the Earth Kingdom. It’s ruled by multiple chieftains.

“Tui’s gills!” - Water Tribe equivalent of ‘Oh my god’

8) AIR NOMADS

Air nomads are regarded with great respect and reverence for their wisdom and spirituality.

Head nomad of an air temple is referred to as an Abbot.

9) DAOFEI (BANDITS)

Daofei plays a huge role in the story. A vast underground criminal scoiety with its own code of honor run deeply throughout the Earth Kingdom, which is "too big to police" for the Earth Kingdom Army. 

As mentioned earlier, Kyoshi's parents were leaders of a prominent Daofei group and Kyoshi herself officially swears her Daofei vows to learn bending skills from her parents' old colleagues. Kyoshi absolutely despises Daofei, though.

Several years before the novel’s start, these bandits staged what is known as the Yellow Neck Rebellion, which is an analogue of the Yellow Turban Rebellion (184–205 AD) during Han Dynasty China. In real life, the rebellion led to the tumultuous time period known as the Three Kingdoms Period, where various warlords fought over control of China.

#the rise of kyoshi #Avatar The Last Airbender #avatar #atla #the last airbender #kyoshi

[justjessame]

Double Shot Chapter 5

I woke up before the sun rose, as was my normal routine, which would have made my mom laugh if she was around. I could still hear the faint sound of her voice as she mocked my hatred of mornings, but I thought I could have argued that since it was still dark it wasn’t TRULY morning. Of course, she never understood how I could hate the taste of coffee, yet love the smell so much that I spent all my extra time in Uncle Davey’s coffee shop. I remembered the phone in the café ringing and hearing the baristas he had working grinning as they confirmed I was there, and knowing that Mom was checking on me again, even though I was a street wise ten year old by then.

A quick shower, dressing in one of my casual, yet business appropriate outfits that my apron would cover perfectly while I mixed and baked up the day’s sweet offerings, I had my hair up in the ever present and perfect for baking topknot and down the stairs I went. I was happy to see that the group that had rented the shop had turned off the lights like I’d asked, that they hadn’t made even a hint of a mess was a welcome surprise, and then I was called to the kitchen by my need to create something tempting and edible.

Baking had always been something that calmed me, that centered me in a way that nothing else seemed to. I loved to read, but even taking up a book tended to make my heart race, disappearing into a story wasn’t calming, it was inspiring. Baking? Baking was something I found both enjoyable, and easy. I mixed and baked, letting the scent of cinnamon, chocolate, and a hint of sugar and vanilla fill the air. I’d be finished long before the first employee arrived, which would be Keli again. She was my standard opener, and while she could be a snotty little shit, she was good at her job. Mostly.

“Morning, Keli,” I offered when she walked in moments after the pastry cases were filled to the brim with fresh treats and the scent of coffee filled the air.

She muttered a greeting, which I could understand since I wasn’t exactly a morning person myself, but she’d ASKED for the morning shift so she could have evenings off with her girlfriend and her girlfriend’s son. I watched as she put on her smock, a requirement so their clothing wouldn’t be ruined by the cleaner that kept the tables sanitary and I knew for a fact that enough icing on any fabric would kill it. She seemed even more quiet and off than usual and I was trying to decide if I should ask her about it or not when the bell on the door chimed, even though the open sign hadn’t been flipped.

Looking up from where I’d been getting the register ready for the day, I was about to tell the eager early bird that we’d be open in a few minutes, when I realized it was two cops. Damn it, I managed to put the fire across the street completely out of my head.

“Hello, officers, how I can help you?” Why bother with the standard greeting? From the looks on their faces, and the fact that one was roaming around the café looking out the front windows that faced the ruins across the street, I thought I knew why they were here.

The policeman who had stayed in front of me while his partner stalked around the open room smiled at me. Good cop, I thought. “Miss-” he looked at his notebook and back up at me. “Ramble?” I nodded, and sighed at what was coming next. “Are you related to Councilman Ramble?” Yes, he’s my dirtbag father, I wanted to say, but that wouldn’t do in our quaint little town.

“That’s my father,” I gritted, hoping that my smile hadn’t dropped. I waited for the next question.

“You manage this shop, correct?” I raised an eyebrow at the idiocy, but nodded again. “Were you home last night, Miss Ramble?”

“Charlotte, please, I insist.” I offered, hoping it sounded sweet and accommodating. “I came home after dinner with a friend at Enzo’s.” His turn to raise an eyebrow. “We were getting to know one another better, so I guess it was more of an acquaintance to friendship dinner. I came along as the firemen were putting out the fire.”

His partner had joined him and was studying me with an interest that I didn’t want to consider. “While you were at this dinner, friendly or whatever, did you know you left the lights on in the shop?” I nodded. Of course, I did, I assured them. I had planned on doing paperwork, but then after I got home, I turned them off and went to bed. “That doesn’t make much sense, Miss Ramble, since the lights were on right before the fire started, but off when we showed up.” Shit. I shook my head, squinting like I was trying to remember the day before.

“You know what,” I hoped I sounded like I fucking just remembered that I fucking forgot my day because of the routine of it. “I’m so used to finishing my paperwork during the day, deposits and all, that I think I came down BEFORE dinner and turned them off.” I slapped my forehead like I realized I was a putz. “The days, gentlemen, they blend together like a fine Columbian coffee. Speaking of which, could I offer you a free cup? And a pastry?” Butter up the donut eaters, Char, hope for the best.

Good cop, suddenly coming to the realization that they hadn’t introduced themselves and being tempted by GOOD coffee and FRESH pastries, offered that he was Detective Marks, while grumpy bad cop was Detective Johnson. I redirected their attention to the practically glowing case that held the fruits of my early morning baking, giving them both what the pointed to, and then filled large insulated carryout cups of their choice of coffee blend. Smiling I hoped like fuck that I’d ended the questioning, but Detective Johnson didn’t get the bribe idea well.

“That’s good coffee.” He muttered into his cup, then his eyes locked back onto me and he opened his mouth. “Now, Miss Ramble, since you turned off the lights BEFORE your little friend thing, and you weren’t home during the start of the fire, could you think of any strange people that have been loitering around lately?” My mind flashed to the five newcomers.

I shook my head. “No, we mostly see regulars. And we get NEW regulars all the time.” I hoped like FUCK that Keli wasn’t paying attention. I needed her input like I needed a hole in my fucking head. “No one stands out.” Again a flash of the five rose up in my eyes. Don’t think about them, asshole. “Sorry, I can always-” like he read my thoughts, which was a scary fucking idea, Detective Marks handed me his card. “I’ll give you a call.”

“Please do, Charlotte,” he took a sip of his coffee and his eyes closed in appreciation. “And thanks for the coffee and treats.” With a wink, which his partner looked ready to make permanent, they left.

The morning went along normally, although none of the five came in for their daily dose of free wifi and amazing refreshments, and I tried VERY hard not to let my mind wander to whether or not they had anything at all to do with the torching of my across the street neighbor. Fuck.

#Franklin Clay x OFC #the losers (2010) #eventual smut #humor #alternative universe

[pisang-goreng-ao3]

Coming to America

Beta: @sugarandspace​

Artist: Amanda

---

Chapter 1: Another beautiful day in Edom

 It’s eight in the morning and Raphael makes his way down the hallway, the sun already beaming through the windows. His steps are audible in the empty hallway, briskly moving over the polished marble. Stopping at large wooden doors, ornately with carved flowers, he takes a deep breath, opens them, and steps inside. He taps on a panel in the wall on his left, it opens with a click and he presses some buttons. Looking up, musicians walk in to take their places on the balcony. Once seated, Raphael gives a curt nod to the conductor, silently instructing the string quartet to begin.

 The curtains slowly open as Bach’s Air fills the room. As the sun hits his face and the music reaches his ears, Magnus stirs and considers opening his eyes. Is it morning already? He props himself up on his elbows and, like every morning, finds Raphael flanked by two servants standing in his doorway. 

“Good morning, your Highness,” Raphael says as he bows. 

“Good morning,” Magnus mumbles back. 

“And, of course, happy birthday, Your Highness,” Raphael continues. 

“…Right, it is my birthday,” says Magnus, as a wave of nausea and dread come over him. Well, he couldn’t avoid this forever, could he? He swings his legs over the edge of the bed and is promptly helped into slippers and a robe by a servant. Said servant bows and retreats, so Magnus can follow Raphael into his en suite.

 Magnus is well aware that his bathroom is larger than some people’s homes. The white marble is polished to perfection, the crystal chandelier refracts the light into rainbows and the scent of sandalwood envelops him more with every step. 

Raphael stops and turns, claps his hands twice and two more servants appear. 

“Good morning, Your Highness, and happy birthday!” as they too bow reverently. After their greeting, Raphael turns around and walks out again, disappearing from their view. 

Magnus figures he might as well try. “Good morning, Dorothea, Elliot! Please, would you be so kind and grant me a birthday wish?” 

“Anything for you, Your Highness!” they bow.

Magnus takes a deep breath, finds his most charming smile, and says, “Since it is my 29th birthday, would you be so kind to let me bathe and dress myself? Just this once?”

Dot and Elliot chuckle politely. “Oh, Your Majesty, you have such a great sense of humor! Now, let us get started. We do not want you to start such an important day as today by being late for breakfast.”

 Magnus lets his mind wander as they move around him doing their daily tasks, from brushing his teeth to bathing him and washing his hair. At some point in his life, he was sure he loved this kind of treatment and would never get enough of it. That he had enjoyed being the crown prince of Edom, and the lifestyle that came with it. 

From an early age he had been assured that as the royal he was, there was no need for him to worry about menial tasks such as washing or dressing yourself when there were servants who were honored to do it for you. But the last couple of years it had only added to him feeling useless.

 “Your Highness must be excited about tonight,” says Dot, as she applies a fresh coat of nail polish.  

Oh yes, and there was that. 

“Can’t say that I am, my dear Dorothea. How can a man be excited about being married off to a woman he’s never met?” says Magnus, in between blowing on the drying polish on his other hand.

Dot avoids his eyes. “Oh Your Highness, I am sure it will all be wonderful.”

Magnus takes his hand from the table where Dot was trying to give him a manicure.

“Dot, sweetheart, I know what you’re trying to do. But please, just… At least call me Magnus when you’re trying to reassure me my life won’t be ruined after tonight.” 

Dot visibly forces a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Your nails are almost done, Prince Magnus. Now, let’s finish up here so we can get you over to Elliot to get you dressed.”

Magnus looks at Dot and Elliot as they work on preparing his outfit for the morning. He has known them for years now, and had a front row seat watching them fall in love and finally get married two years ago. 

“I mean, look at you guys. You make marriage look like a dream come true. Because you both wanted to. You look so happy together, you’re basically glowing! Frankly, it’s a bit unfair to rub that in my face on a daily basis,” he jokes.

 They stop fussing with his clothes and whisper something to each other. Finally they turn and look at him with apologetic expressions. “Prince Magnus… We’re sorry. You know we’re not allowed to talk about this. But to be honest, we do feel for you.” Elliot starts. “We care about you. We’ve watched you grow into a man ready to be a king these last few years.”

Dot walks over to him to take Magnus’ hand in hers, and says, “I know you wish this was different, but we believe you’re ready. We know you are. You’re ready to take the throne a few years from now and this wedding is the last step. It is tradition. It’s how your father married your mother – and you must agree that your mother is the most wonderful person, right? Have faith, my Prince. I’m sure they have found you a worthy queen.”

 Magnus sighs. He knows there really is no way out of this no matter how much he wishes there would be. The least he could do was pray Dot and Elliot were right. 

“Thank you both, I’m lucky to have you in my life. Now, let’s get me dressed.”

---

Magnus gently touches the sides of his head, careful not to touch the hair that’s pulled into an impeccable topknot. They shaved his hair at the sides of his head this morning to look sharp for the ceremony, and he loves the feeling against his fingertips. 

Dressed in a burgundy colored linen pants and a loose linen top with ornate golden pattern swirling across, Magnus follows Raphael to the dining room, stopping as he opens the doors for him.

“Presenting His Royal Highness, Prince Magnus!” he proclaims. Servants standing on the side of the doors shower Magnus with rose petals.

Magnus shrugs the petals off his shoulders and walks in the room where his parents are already seated at their ridiculously large table. He shrugs off the rose petals that had landed on his shoulders and walks over to his mother to kiss her cheek. “Good morning mother, father,” he says as he takes his place on the far end of the table that could have hosted a soccer team. 

“You are late,” King Asmodeus frowns. “And today is a day where tardiness can not be overlooked.”

Magnus stares at his plate. “Apologies, father. It won’t happen again.” 

“Oh Asmodeus, it’s only 15 minutes, no harm done,” his mother says before she turns to Magnus. 

“Happy birthday, my dear boy. I’m so proud of the man you’ve become. We are so blessed to witness this day.” Queen Raniya smiles at him, and Magnus returns it. There isn’t a person in this world he loves as much as his mother. “Thank you, mother. You look lovely this morning.” 

 Breakfast is surprisingly uneventful. Servants put a napkin on his lap and fill his plate with the usual, but he doesn’t enjoy his fresh fruits or coffee at all. He mindlessly pokes at his plate, unable to clear his mind. His parents look at him inquisitively.

“Is something troubling you, my son?” Asmodeus asks, sounding more stern than a father probably should. 

“No, father.”

“Son, please. I am more than the magnificent ruler of Edom and all its inhabitants. I am also a concerned dad.” 

Magnus can’t help but laugh a little at that. It’s not that he thinks his father doesn’t love him, but he has never been much of a concerned or involved father figure.

“Well, father…” Magnus starts, putting down his fork, before he wonders how can anyone have a serious conversation with three meters of empty table between them. He stands up, ignoring the confused look on his parents faces -and the panicked ones of the servants- and sits down next to his mother.

 She smiles at him lovingly. “What is it, my boy?” 

Magnus grabs her hand. “Well, first of all, it’s things like this.” 

Queen Raniya doesn’t seem to understand. “Like what?” she asks.

“This!” Magnus wildly gestures with his hands to the servants all around the room, feeling mildly embarrassed. “Being announced to any room. Having rose petals thrown at me. I can’t even sit myself down in a chair!”

“What is the matter, dear? You are the son of a king, why shouldn’t you be showered with the petals of roses?” His mother asks him, looking quite confused.

“But mother, if there were no rose petals, I would still be the son of a king!” Magnus counters. “And it’s not just that, it’s everything! The cooking, the pampering, the dressing, the bathing… I’m 29 years old! For once I’d like to cook for myself, take care of myself, dress myself – and why, why can’t I find my own partner?”

 “Aha!” Asmodeus smirks. “So that’s what this is about. Don’t worry, my boy. We have gone through a great deal of trouble to select a very fine wife for you.”

Magnus takes a deep breath. “But what if I do not love her?”

“It is normal to be a bit nervous before meeting your queen. Your mother and I… We were quite frightened, to be honest with you.” Asmodeus looks at his wife affectionately. 

She smiles back at him, saying, “When I first met your father, I was so nervous, I became nauseous! But… Over the years, I have grown to love your father. Very much.”

“So you see, my son, there is a very fine line between love and nausea,” Asmodeus concludes. Raniya just stares at him. Judging by his mother’s facial expression, that wasn’t the message she had hoped to convey.

 Magnus sighs. He realizes there is no time left for subtlety in this last ditch effort to get through to his father. “I understand,” he begins, “But father… When I marry, I want someone to love me for who I am, not what I am.”

“And who are you?” Asmodeus looks at him with an amused expression.

“I am a man who has never tied his own shoes before!” Magnus exclaims, wondering if he could sound any more desperate than this. 

“Wrong! You are a prince who has never tied his own shoes before,” Asmodeus looks at his coffee, swirling it in his cup. “Besides, believe me. I have tied my own shoes once. It is an overrated experience.”

 “But father, that is not the point -” Magnus begins.

Asmodeus gives him a cold look and raises his voice. “No, Magnus. Let us be clear. The point is that as of today, you are 29 years old. By law you are to be married before the age of 30 in order to remain eligible for the throne. And since your mother and I were not blessed with more children, you are the sole heir to the throne of Edom. We have been more than patient with you as it is. We have humored all of your dalliances, even those male ones, because you were diligent enough with your studies. You have had your time to play and now it is up. A wife has been chosen for you. You will fulfil your duty.”

 Magnus tries to swallow, but his mouth has gone dry. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before, but somehow it felt like his last sliver of hope just disappeared. This was real. There was no escape. And he feels guilt, because he knows his mother would have loved to have more children, and here she is stuck with one son who is apparently too pathetic to fulfill his only purpose in life.

Suddenly, the door bursts open to reveal a man in green workout gear, sporting a big grin. “Good morning! It’s another beautiful day in Edom!” he belts through the dining room. 

King Asmodeus snaps, “What is it, Ragnor? Why must you interrupt us like this? Have you no manners?” he belts back even louder.

 “I’ve come to take the birthday boy for his daily workout! We can’t have him looking out of shape tonight!” Ragnor says, seemingly unaffected as the smile never leaves his face. 

He turns to Magnus’ mother. “Queen Raniya, you look exceptionally radiant today,” he says smoothly, as he kisses her hand. 

“Is that so, Ragnor?” Her amusement is audible. “Say hello to your mother for me, will you? Tell her we must catch up over tea soon.” 

Magnus is grateful for his best friend -who has been hired as his personal servant for a few years now- barging in so he’s able to excuse himself from breakfast. 

“Yes, Ragnor, let’s go get me in shape. Excuse me father, mother…” he mutters as he kisses his mother on her forehead. She squeezes his hand as he turns to leave. Ragnor bows to the royal couple, and leads Magnus out of the dining room. 

---

“Now let’s see if you can defend your lazy arse at the ripe old age of 29.” Ragnor baits, tossing a staff at him. Magnus shoots him a faux annoyed glare, but isn’t too worried. 

Because his father had been dead set on him never leaving the country, Asmodeus had gone through great lengths to bring in people from all over the world for Magnus to socialize with. Ragnor was born and raised in London, where his father worked at the Edomite embassy. The family had moved back when he was 12, and once in Edom, Ragnor was immediately introduced to Magnus. He didn’t know what to think of the boy with the aura of a hundred-year-old, so naturally they had been best friends ever since. 

As adults, they had concocted the plan where Ragnor had become his personal servant, after it hadn’t worked out with previous applicants. Apparently he didn’t have other ambitions in life, Magnus was fairly sure he enjoyed the royal lifestyle. Which he was more than fine with, the life wasn’t nearly as lonely with his best friend by his side at all times.

Magnus taunts him with a simple hand gesture and takes his stance. Center. Right. Right. He focuses on parrying Ragnor’s strikes in the most elaborate way, rather than looking for an opportunity to get a hit with his stick himself. He flips and twirls effortlessly, much to Ragnor’s annoyance.

 “OK twinkle toes, time for a break,” Ragnor pants as he reaches for his bottle of water. “So what you’re saying is… You got confirmation -again- of the fact that your father and half the court have been going through the effort of finding you the perfect wife, and you’re moping about it?” Ragnor summarizes in his own way. Magnus sighs, grabs a towel and wipes the sweat off his forehead.

 “You’re saying that like it’s no big deal at all! How would you like it if you were married off to some stranger? As for perfect, that’s my father’s definition of perfect, not mine,” Magnus took a sip from his water bottle. “I want to marry someone I love. And maybe that someone is a man. But it’s most definitely not someone my father selected for me, that I have never even met before our engagement.”

“No offense, my friend, but maybe this is exactly what you need. You’re 29 and you have not exactly been very successful at finding yourself someone worthwhile.” Something about his English accent made it sound even worse, Magnus thinks. 

“I mean, let’s be completely honest here,” he continues, “George, Etta, Farrokh. Did you even catch their last names? What about that son of the previous Peruvian ambassador, what’s his face…” Ragnor stops his rant to think.

 “…Imasu. Yeah, you’re right. That was a disaster. Looking back, they were all hopeless.” Magnus feels embarrassed having to admit that Ragnor is kind of right. Even during those relationships, he couldn’t fool himself into believing they were marriage material. 

“Can you blame me for hoping they’d eventually see me as more than the crown prince? Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I am doomed. Maybe after Camille I shouldn’t even try any kind of relationship anymore, renounce my throne and just… I don’t know. Sign myself up for a life as a monk in a monastery somewhere up in the mountains.” Magnus gracefully slides down the wall to sit on the floor. He leans his head back and stares at the ceiling, that is frankly way too ornate for a gym.

 Ragnor rolls his eyes in such an exaggerated way Magnus fears they might end up stuck in his skull. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, my friend. We talked about this. Camille is a one-of-a-kind sort of evil, she is gone, and you really shouldn’t let the rest of your life be dictated by that vampire.”

 “Easy for you to say…” Magnus mumbles, moving his torso forward to stretch out his leg muscles. 

He had met Camille at university, in his small class dedicated to teaching the children of the Edom elite. The daughter of a French noblewoman and a high ranking Edomite military official of French descent, she had set her sights on him since day one. And he had let her. She had long wavy hair, a curvy figure, was always dressed to kill and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Magnus had let himself get swept away by this new experience. 

Usually his dates were so impressed by dating the crown prince, that they lost every bit of their own personality. They expected him to take the lead on everything, and he was sure they would bark like dogs if he asked them to. The fact that Camille wasn’t afraid to go against him and ask him to do things, to get her things, all while keeping their relationship a secret... It had made him feel alive again. After a year together, Magnus had to stay behind while Camille moved back to France with her family.

 She had told him they could make it work if he loved her enough, and he believed her - until her social media was full of evidence of the contrary. He had called Camille to ask her how she could do this to him, she only laughed and called him a fool for thinking she wouldn’t do everything to enjoy student life at the Sorbonne. 

Magnus feels like his heart had never really recovered after that particular break up, even though in retrospect he realized how unhealthy their relationship had been.. Again he had been used for his money and royal status, just in a different way from the others.

 “…I think it really just might be me.”

---

Magnus overlooks the lavishly decorated ballroom, filled with Edom high society. Rich tapestries were hung across the walls and crystal chandeliers light the room. The ladies and gentlemen, displaying all their gold and jewels like human Christmas trees, walk around trying to outshine one another. This is the world he grew up in and he never realized it was so incredibly fake. He recognizes some of the faces from work – the prime minister is here, the mayor of Edom City, the chief of police, admirals, generals. Everyone who is someone in Edom’s high society apparently got an invite for this circus.

 On the dais, his father is seated in his large golden throne, wearing his most formal crown that was designed by his great-great-great-grandfather. It’s a sight to behold and could even put the St. Edward’s Crown to shame - clearly his father wasn’t about to be out-decorated by any of his guests in attendance. 

His mother and Magnus himself are sitting on significantly more modest thrones on both his sides. Queen Raniya looks lovely, he thinks, wearing a modest golden tiara on her headscarf that was loosely draped over her head and across her chest. While Raphael had insisted Magnus would wear his military uniform for the night, he had refused. They had apparently felt sorry enough for him to offer an alternative for once. So now he sits here in a traditional Edomite tunic, purple and embroidered with gold with a high collar, and loose black pants. A subtle golden crown is attached to his topknot, because he’s the crown prince, and it’s his engagement party.

He couldn’t remember ever feeling this lonely before. Or nauseous, for that matter; his father’s words about the fine line between love and nausea dancing in his mind. Forcing himself to ignore those words, he lets his gaze roam through the ballroom again.

Finally he finds Ragnor in the crowd, chatting with their American friend Catarina. She was the newest addition to his international entourage: a 25-year-old exchange student from St. John’s University in Queens, studying to be a nurse practitioner. She and Magnus had clicked in a way he hadn’t experienced since meeting Ragnor as a teenager. As for Ragnor... He wouldn’t admit to it, but Magnus was sure he had developed a massive crush on the nursing student since meeting her a few months ago.

He manages to catch their eyes and they both give him an awkward but strangely comforting smile while clutching their glasses of champagne. Magnus takes a deep breath and looks straight ahead again, letting the sounds coming from the ballroom wash over him.

 Minutes, or maybe hours, pass. Suddenly, the sound of a gong makes the chatter of the audience die down immediately. Magnus’s stomach flips in the worst way. The ceremony is about to begin.

A man in an imposing military uniform steps forward. “Your Majesty, King Asmodeus! His Royal Highness and benevolent ruler of all of Edom!” he exclaims and bows deep, then stands up straight in a way that suits his garb. “I am Colonel Belcourt. And today, with your blessing, I offer my daughter to your son.”

 Asmodeus stands up from his throne. “My blessing is granted. Let the courtship commence!”

 The Colonel cleared his throat, “I humbly present my daughter, Miss Imani Belcourt!”

The gong sounds again, and the crowd parts through the middle. Gamelan music begins to play and about 30 dancers in Edom ceremonial dress move into the room. Gracefully the men and women dance in pairs, portraying the courtship rituals and people falling in love. 

Asmodeus turns his head and lays down his hand on Magnus’. He squeezes gently along with a curt but pleased nod. Magnus returns a polite smile and brings his hands to his lap instead. The last thing he wants right now is for his father to give these kinds of comforting gestures he has never given before. 

Magnus forces himself to focus back on the dancers. He loves all forms of dance, but he can’t find it in him to appreciate anything about this performance.

One by one the dancers take a pose, creating a pathway. The music changes into something more delicate as the flutes take the lead melody, and a figure of a woman in a sparkling golden dress appears at the end of the ballroom. She spreads her arms and seems to float between the dancers towards the throne, the click of her heels muffled by the sound of her train rushing along the floor. As his bride-to-be strides down to halfway across the ballroom, she begins to take a familiar, curvy shape.

 Magnus struggles to breathe as he feels his heart pounding. It can’t be, can it? The Belcourts are a military family, surely Imani is a cousin that looks just like her? Right?

 His worst nightmare comes true once Imani -well, Camille- stops in front of the dais next to Colonel Belcourt. Who must be her father (apparently, as they never got to the meet-the-family part of a relationship) and puts her hand in his. She lowers her gaze while curtsying the royal family, and shoots Magnus a wicked grin while looking back up again.

 Magnus feels the bile rising in his throat. He can’t do this. He can’t. He jerkily stands up from his throne and all but storms towards Camille.

 “May I talk to you in private for a moment, please?” Magnus grits out between clenched teeth. He doesn’t give her a chance to respond before grabbing her wrist and urges her onto and then to the left side of the dais, through a door that leads to a sitting room. He feels the eyes of everyone in the ballroom burning on his back, but is too overwhelmed to care. After slamming the door shut, he leans his forehead against it and takes a deep grounding breath.

 “What? Am I not all you ever looked for in a woman? I definitely recall you saying so. More than once,” she smirks. Magnus turns to face her, feeling all pain she ever inflicted like it just happened. It rages through him like a tornado.

 “I could not have been more mistaken. And you are no woman, in fact, I’m not sure you’re actually human! Do you even have a soul?” Magnus blurts out as he frantically paces along the room. “You know what? Don’t answer that. And what’s with Imani? Did you give me a false name on purpose, just to mess with me?”

 “Magnus, darling, calm down. Camille is my middle name, and I always liked the sound of it better. And since we didn’t exactly spend a lot of time talking… I knew you would appreciate the surprise.” As if her tone of voice wasn’t infuriating enough, she throws in a wink with her self-satisfied expression.

 He stops pacing, and looks at her. “Why don’t you fuck off back to France? Because I’m sure as hell not marrying you. So get lost.”

 “Yes, you are. I’ve been selected. Come on Magnus, we had so much fun, we can get there again,” Camille purrs, seductively making her way over to Magnus.

 Magnus clenches his hands into fists at his side as Camille ends right in front of him, disregarding his personal space, while smirking. For a second he is afraid she’d grab him by the lapels and kiss him, but instead she stops when her toes touch his own, the same smirk never leaving her face.

 “I will make such a beautiful queen,” she whispers. In that moment, Magnus wishes his glare could literally shoot daggers.

 The door flies open and Asmodeus barges in. “Ah! I see the two of you are getting along!”

 Magnus rolls his eyes. Of course his father chooses to interpret the mere inches between them as a good sign, conveniently ignoring his body language.

 Magnus turns away from Camille and walks to his father, nervously wringing his hands together. “Father, about this wedding…” Magnus begins.

 He is interrupted by someone loudly clearing their throat. He looks to the door opening and sees Raphael standing there with an uncomfortable expression on his face. “Your Majesty, the guests are waiting.”

 “Let them wait!” Asmodeus barks impatiently. “I am talking to my son.” He turns back towards Magnus. “Come, my son, let’s go for a stroll.”

 Camille curtsies and doesn’t break her eye contact with Magnus. “It was an honor to meet you. I will wait for you, my Prince.” She gracefully moves herself towards the ballroom.

 “Fine girl, isn’t she?” Asmodeus looks pleased. “I told you not to worry. She will give you much pleasure, don’t you think?”

---

Magnus follows his father into the palace gardens. Ever since he was a boy he loved to go on walks here, through the carefully crafted pathways, looking at the flowerbeds that were planted to form intricate designs. Beautiful birds fly from tree to tree while singing their songs, the soft light of the lanterns make it feel like something out of a fairy tale.

 “Time does fly, my son. It feels like yesterday I ordered your first diaper change. And now you’re a man, who’s about to be married,” Asmodeus smiles contently.

 “Father, I won’t marry Camille. I refuse.” 

“Nonsense, Magnus. We’ve gone through a lot of trouble to select this girl for you. She is from a very respectable military family with foreign ties. Prepared and ready to become a queen, and a mother.”

“But I’ll never be ready for her! Father, please! I’m 29 years old, and I have never even left Edom! I have yet to experience what the outside world has to offer, and now my life is over!” Magnus nearly trips over his own tongue, trying to get the words out.

 “So… You want to sow your royal oats?” Asmodeus says with a smirk.

 “No, it’s not that, it’s that Camille isn’t who she-” Magnus starts.

 “You are right!” Asmodeus laughs. “Now listen. This is the last time I will humor you, Magnus. Get out, see the world, enjoy yourself! Fulfill every erotic desire. And in 90 days you will come back and marry this girl.”

 “But father…”

 “It is settled.” Asmodeus pats his schouder roughly behoren making a sharp turn and striding back into the palace.

---

Magnus isn’t sure how he found his way back to a study in the west wing of the palace. He stares at a painting of his great grandfather and feels tears stinging in the corner of his eyes. This possibly couldn’t have gone any worse than it did. Right now, he would give anything to be married off to anyone but Camille

 “What the hell was that? What is she even doing here?!” Ragnor storms in, closely followed by Catarina. 

“Oh, sweetheart…” Catarina must see the tears in his eyes because she immediately moves to wrap his arms around him. He can’t help that some of those tears roll down his face.

“What have I done in my life to deserve this?” he mumbles into her shoulder.

Ragnor looks lost for words. If he wasn’t feeling so miserable Magnus would be enjoying the fact that apparently, there are things that can shut Ragnor up. 

“Come, sit with us.” Catarina guides Magnus to the sitting area. As she sits down with him on the loveseat, Ragnor takes one of the fauteuils. Catarina gently strokes his back while Magnus tries to stop his quiet tears.

“I am so sorry, my friend. I don’t know what else to say.” Ragnor finally says. 

“It’s OK. I don’t know either.” Magnus’ vision blurs again as his eyes fill up with tears again. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t do this, I can’t!” His voice breaks and he leans into Catarina as she pulls him towards her in an effort to comfort him.

He lets himself be comforted in silence as he cries. After a few minutes, he forces himself to get it together. In an effort to lighten the mood, he says, “Well, at least my father has given me permission to finally leave Edom before my wedding from hell. 90 days. That should give me enough time to go hiking in South America and move to a remote mountain village where the outside world will never find me.”

“Come on, we both know you’re way too high maintenance to survive in a village without electricity or plumbing,” Ragnor snorts. “But I suppose it’s preferable to marrying a random person in Las Vegas or something, because this way, you’ll eventually come back home.”

Magnus shoots up from the couch. “Ragnor, that’s brilliant!”

“Wait, what?” Catarina says, while Ragnor just stares at him blankly.

“That’s exactly what I need to do. I need to find my own spouse! I need to go somewhere, far away where no one knows who I am. That way, I can find someone who’ll love me as me, not as the crown prince of Edom!” he paces through the room, gesturing wildly. “And if we get married in Vegas, I can’t get married to Camille! And I’ll have someone to rule by my side so my father can’t possibly get upset. After all, all he wants is for me to get married.”

“Magnus, I’m sorry, but that is the worst plan I’ve ever heard.” Ragnor interrupts his pacing and firmly places his hands on Magnus’ shoulders. “You can’t just move across the world, find someone, lie to them about who you are, fall in love, get married and then tell them, hey, guess what, you’re royalty now, and we’re expected to rule over a proud island nation soon!”

Ragnor leans his forehead against Magnus’. “You are my best friend and I know you are desperate. But please, this plan is a recipe for disaster. We will find another way to get Camille out of the picture.”

“I can’t… I can’t do this, Ragnor. I need to get away.” Magnus hears his voice breaking again.

“And we will. Your father gave you 90 days and carte blanche. We can travel anywhere you want, in style, while we figure this out,” says Ragnor.

Magnus swallows thickly. “No. I don’t want to travel in style. I wasn’t kidding. I know I shouldn’t go and get married to someone over 90 days, but... I do want to know what it’s like to live like a normal person. Just to be by myself, to take care of myself, just be Magnus, for once in my life.”

Ragnor looks at him sympathetically. “As you wish. Now, where in the world would you like to do that?” 

Magnus sighs. “You know, I absolutely have no idea. Preferably somewhere I speak the language, and far from Edom.”

Catarina clears her throat. “You know, I kept my place in Brooklyn, because my exchange was only for a year and a half and it’s hard to find something that nice. I mean, it’s nothing fancy, it only has one bedroom. But one of you can sleep on the couch. If you’d like.”

Magnus looks at Catarina, who plays with her hands nervously. “Are you saying we could stay at your place in New York?” 

“Well, yeah, but, don’t expect too much of it. It’s nothing like you’re used to here in the palace, but if you want to, you could. I can send a message to my landlord, saying I met you guys at university here, and you need a place to stay while doing research in America. Luke is great, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind at all.” Catarina looks at him expectantly. 

Magnus flings himself into her arms. “Cat, that’s perfect! That’s exactly the kind of mundane, normal experience I’m looking for!” He kisses her cheek and turns around.

“Ragnor, pack your bags. We’re going to America!”

Chapter 2: The mundane life of two ordinary exchange students

Even when flying first class, the journey from Edom to New York is long and tiring. After layovers in Singapore and Amsterdam, they finally find themselves at John F. Kennedy International Airport. Magnus feels the excitement of being here buzzing under his skin like magic. 

Ragnor, however, doesn’t feel as energetic after having travelled for about thirty hours. Unlike Magnus, he appears to not be able to sleep on a plane. He drags himself and his suitcase after Magnus. 

Packing had turned out to be another fight between him, his father and Raphael. They had insisted on preparing a full set of royal baggage, but Magnus had insisted they wouldn’t need all of that in New York. Of course, he hadn’t exactly told his father about their plan to stay at Catarina’s one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn. Instead, he told them they would get a suite at the Waldorf Astoria, and they would love to go shopping for more clothes. 

His insistence that a suitcase and a backpack was therefore enough, was only accepted if he, in turn, took a staggering amount of “pocket cash” and a credit card with him. Knowing this was the closest he’d get to getting his way, Magnus accepted. He planned to spend as little of the money as he possibly could, fully committed to the idea of living the next 90 days as a normal guy for the first time in his life.

Plenty of pocket cash did make it easy to grab a taxi to Catarina’s place. After stacking their suitcases in the minivan, he gave the driver the note where she had scribbled the address on for them. It takes them about 45 minutes to get there and Magnus doesn’t know where to look. He’s never been allowed travel, not even to join his father on formal state visits. Asmodeus had always said that was a privilege he would have access to once he was married, and that hadn’t really worked out for him so far. 

Edom City was in no way comparable to New York. He immediately understood what songs meant by concrete jungle. It was December and snow was falling from the sky. Magnus had never seen snow in real life before. The average temperature in Edom was 30 degrees Celsius -86 degrees Fahrenheit, he looked that up before they left- year-round. 

With an excited grin on his face he turns to Ragnor, who looks tired and grumpy. 

“There’s snow. I forgot all about how much I hated the bloody stuff,” he mumbles.

Magnus punches him playfully. “Oh come now, look at it! It can’t be that bad. It’s so beautiful.” 

The rest of the trip he dreamily stares out of the window, thinking of all the mundane ways he could meet someone normal and fall in love.

---

As soon as Magnus steps out of the taxi he understands why Ragnor was so bothered by the mere sight of snow. He has never been this cold in his life and they are most definitely not prepared for it.

As Ragnor pays the cab driver, Magnus turns and looks at their new neighborhood. They have stopped at a small parking lot between two old looking buildings looming over them. There’s a lot of reddish bricks and a lot of doors, and it takes them longer than they are willing to admit to find the right doorbell.

“Hey, you must be Cat’s friends!” A tall man in a police uniform with dark skin and a neatly groomed beard says as he opens the door. Behind him a hallway appears, all brown tiles and aged wallpaper.

“And you must be Mr. Garroway!” Magnus says, holding out his hand. “I’m Magnus, and that’s Ragnor.” he points to where Ragnor is shivering next to their suitcases. 

“Please, come on in!” Luke motions. They drag their things up the stone steps and he closes the door behind them. 

Magnus clears his throat. “We are most grateful you’re allowing us to stay in Catarina’s apartment for three months,” he says, consciously trying to make a great first impression.

“No problem at all. Cat’s pretty much the perfect tenant and since she’s vouching for you guys, I’m sure we’ll get along fine. And before I forget, Mr. Garroway is my old man! Please call me Luke,” he says with an easy smile. 

Magnus grins back, he likes this guy already. They move themselves and their suitcases further into the hallway. There’s a white door, and a wooden staircase going up. 

“This door here, that’s me. Don’t hesitate to knock when you need anything.” He glances at his watch. “I really hate to be rude, but I have to get into work soon. So if you’ll follow me I’ll show you to the apartment.” Luke gestures to the staircase next to his front door. 

Luke points his hand in the direction of narrow stairs. “You’re gonna have to haul those up here.” He points to their luggage. “This place is kind of old. I don’t think the people that built this all those years ago thought things through properly. I mean, they had furniture back then too, right?”

They smile politely and Luke turns to go ahead of them, scaling the stairs and opening the door. Magnus is glad he and Ragnor have spent years having daily staff fighting practice because there’s no way he would’ve made it in one piece otherwise.

Magnus walks through the door and steps into the room that’s on his left. It’s an open space, a small living area with a couch and a tv, next to a 4-person dining table separating it from a small kitchen. Straight ahead there he sees two doors, presumably leading to the bedroom and bathroom. Everything seems about as big as his en suite palace bathroom and while he feels a little bad about it, he couldn’t be more excited. It’s as utterly normal as he had imagined.

Luke’s voice snaps him out of his reverie. “So, Cat said she met you guys at school on the island? And you’re here to do research?”

“...Yes. Yes, we are ordinary students. Here to do research. At the university.” Magnus nods with a big grin on his face. He can hear Ragnor snorting behind him, and swings his arm backward in the hopes to swat his arm. 

“Mr. Garrowa-” Magnus starts, cut short by Luke’s raised eyebrows and unimpressed look.

“My apologies. Luke, we do not know cold winters where we are from, so I’m afraid we are a bit underdressed for the weather we found ourselves in. But we are poor students. Where can we buy winter clothes for our limited budget?”

Luke smiles at them. “Yeah, I remember those times when I was at the police academy. There are some stores at the mall. Two stops on the subway, you can’t miss it.”

Magnus rubs his hands together. “Perfect, we will look into that later.” 

Ragnor, who had walked himself over to the radiator in the kitchen, rolls his eyes at him.

“I really have to go now, or I’ll be late. But you know what? I bet you guys don’t have any plans for today after travelling for so long. I’m pretty sure I still have some old winter coats that you could use while you’re here. If you’d like? They’re nothing special, but it’ll save you some money on something you’re not gonna bring home with you anyway.” Luke looks at them for an answer.

Magnus feels a pang of guilt because he’s lying through his teeth and this man is offering him -a prince!- handouts out of the kindness of his heart. But this is what he wanted, right? To be treated like a normal student, and look like one?

He smiles. “Thank you, Luke, that is very kind of you. We would like to take you up on your offer.”

---

The next morning they step out in the coats that Luke brought over. Since Luke is taller and broader than both of them, they are noticeably on the bigger side.

Ragnor huffs. “We look ridiculous. Let’s go buy new ones.” 

“We will do no such thing! We cannot insult Luke like that. It was very generous of him to offer this and we will wear them,” Magnus says and twirls. “Plus, look at how normal these make us look! It’s amazing!”

Ragnor rolls his eyes -again- and shivers. “Well, I hate it. And I’m cold. Let’s find that subway station,” he says as he shoves his hands in his pockets.

They walk through the little park in between the buildings in the direction they were told to go. In the middle of the park are a couple of benches, where three elderly people are seated, holding small cardboard cups. A small Yorkshire terrier in a coat hops through the snow around the bench.

Magnus elbows Ragnor excitedly. “Look! Real Americans!” He whispers, as they walk towards the trio.

“Good morning, my neighbours!” Magnus beams.

“Hey! You must be the boys from Indonesia!” the man says and raises his coffee cup to them.

“How do you know it’s them? You can’t just assume these things. That’s rude,” one of the women interjects. She looks quite distinguished in her big, fluffy fake fur coat. Her hair is dyed a dark reddish brown, and she wears it in an impeccable updo. 

“We sure are though. And we are very happy to be here!” Magnus can’t seem to wipe the smile off his face.

“Well, we’re very happy to meet you two. You look like good kids,” the last lady nods. She is of Asian descent, but thankfully doesn’t look like she could be from Edom. She wears a much more practical green coat with a big red scarf. Her hair is grey with lighter streaks, tied together in a low ponytail, but the sparkle in her eyes makes her look younger.

“Where are my manners?” The man says, who is grey and balding, and has to put in some effort to stand up and greet them. “I’m Hodge, or so they say. These ladies here are my good friends Imogen and Jia,” he nods, as he clutches his cane.

Magnus moves to shake all of their hands and sternly looks at Ragnor, who begrudgingly takes one of his hands out of his pocket and greets the elderly trio as well.

“Just so you boys know,” Imogen starts, as she puts the little dog in her lap, “We’re the eyes and ears of the neighborhood. So if you need gossip, we’re your source,” she whispers loudly.

Magnus doesn’t really know why he would need gossip, but he wants to befriend his new neighbors either way. “That’s good to know. If you’ll excuse us, we must get going again. We’re trying to find the subway station.”

“Oh! You’re headed in the right direction. If you walk straight through the park, and…” Jia rattles off the same directions as Luke had given them, but they listen and thank her anyway.

The directions turn out to be accurate, and two stops later, they step out at a mall. Magnus has to drag Ragnor away from all the high-end boutiques, determined to find this store called Target, that Luke had recommended to them.

Ragnor walks through the aisles under harsh fluorescent lighting, between racks and tables of clothing. He stops and rubs the fabric of a sweater between his fingers and looks disappointed. Sighing, he looks at Magnus. “Tell me, why are we doing this again?”

“Because we’re ordinary exchange students, we cannot wear designer clothes or no one will believe us. Now pick some things and try them on,” Magnus says as he picks up a few basic t-shirts to wear under the button-downs and hoodies he tossed in his basket. 

They get themselves into fitting rooms next to each other as they shrug their own clothes off, and try the new ones on. They’re all hit or miss and nothing in between, but Magnus has never enjoyed anything more in his life. Most of his clothes are custom made traditional pieces. And as he grew older, his father organised for high-end designers to put on private shows at the palace. Magnus would be allowed to pick whatever he wanted, and they would tailor it for him right away. He has never tried on normal clothes before, in a store. And even if they don’t fit his body as well as his clothes in Edom, he’s happy with the result.

He slides the curtain open and steps out in a colorful button-down, dark wash slim fit jeans and a casual blazer. He spins in front of Ragnor, arm stretched out to the side.

Ragnor leans against the wall of his fitting room with his arms folded across his chest and gently smiles at Magnus. “Let’s go out tonight and celebrate your freedom,” he says, as he rubs his upper arms. “Maybe, if we drink enough, we could even forget about how cold we are.”

“Wonderful idea, my friend!” Magnus smirks as he turns to the mirror, quite pleased with himself. Maybe it won’t be that hard to find himself a date in America after all.

---

Walking into the first bar they find, Magnus straightens his new shirt, and looks around the place. He’s feeling good. Instead of his topknot, he had chosen to style his hair in a mohawk, taking full advantage of his father not being here to disapprove of it. 

In the middle of the bar is a small dance floor with flashing lights, with people awkwardly trying to move to the beat. Along the sides, groups of guys and girls with a lot of beer are making valiant efforts for their discussions to compete with the music. Ragnor leans in to Magnus. “Let’s go to the bar, I need a drink.” 

They walk down towards the far end of the bar, sit down on stools and order two whiskeys. It isn’t long until a girl comes up to Magnus and drapes herself over the bar in front of him. She’s stunning, she has long dark curls and is wearing an all leather ensemble.

“Hey gorgeous,” she purrs. “Are you gonna buy me a drink?”

Magnus looks at Ragnor, who shrugs as a reply. Why not, he thinks. If this works out, the only thing he has to lose is Camille.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you want,” he smiles, and his smile falters a bit when she proceeds to run her finger over the price list and orders the most expensive cocktail on the menu. How, does she know he’s a prince? But maybe she just really likes this particular drink, he tells himself. Maybe it only looked like she was picking the most expensive drink on purpose?

“So how did you pretty boys get here?” she asks.

“Well, we just flew in yesterday. We’re students-” Magnus starts.

The woman in leather looks disappointed. “So, like, you didn’t drive here?”

Ragnor snorts, “No, you don’t exactly need a car in Brooklyn.” 

“Oh, well, too bad you really are cute. But I’m just not into men unless he drives a BMW,” she says and walks away with her cocktail. 

And just like that, Magnus is done. He throws back his whiskey in one go, tells Ragnor to pay the bartender and he’s out the door. Ragnor catches up with him outside and squeezes his shoulder.

They go to the next bar, and another one after that, and another one after that. Men, women, none of his admirers looked the same - but all of them wanted something similarly shallow. And Magnus is not looking for a quick hookup. Neither is Ragnor, who had mumbled something about missing Cat after his third drink. The ones that didn’t immediately express their interest in sex seemed completely crazy, and claimed things like the ability to talk to dead historical figures as long as they stared into a candle hard enough.

Right now they’re sitting in a booth at a cozy gay bar, and while he loves the interior and the general atmosphere, he’s not loving this new situation they find themselves in. Ragnor is slumped next to him, staring at his beer, while Magnus tries to listen to a handsome man with auburn hair and blue eyes who spotted him early on and immediately came up to introduce himself as Eddie. And then some. 

“...You know right now I’m just working on the videos, but really, I want to star in the videos, you know, become a singer, you know, pop, and some rock, just write my own songs, and produce my own songs. And then I’m gonna try and be an actor, because people keep telling me how talented I am, what a natural I am, and stuff like that. Like movies, of course, like Oscar-worthy dramas, because everyone says I have so much range, and my ability to make people cry with my performance like, all the time. So then, I’m gonna write my own stories, and direct my own stories, and produce the movies I’m doing...” 

Magnus is trying to pay attention, he swears, but he can’t get a single word in. The words wash over him like a waterfall and combined with the alcohol and the temperature of the room, he’s starting to feel a bit tired. Suddenly he’s back when Ragnor drops his head against his shoulder and he fears his friend is falling asleep, too.

It did seem to finally shut the auburn-haired man up, and Magnus decides to take advantage of that. “Eddie, I’m so sorry, it was nice meeting you but I’m gonna have to get my friend home now.” 

Before Eddie can get another word in, Magnus wraps his arm around Ragnor and maneuvers him right out of the place.

Outside, the fresh air rejuvenates them and they stroll towards Cat’s place.

“Is it my imagination or does everyone in New York have a severe emotional problem?” Magnus wonders out loud.

Ragnor huffs, “I worship the devil? No man has ever satisfied me, you’re cute, do you want to give it a try? I’m only into the group thing?” he summarizes the awful pick-up lines they heard over the course of the night. “If this is what normal people are like I’m not gonna last these next 88 days here!”

In the distance they see a small figure in a fluffy coat approaching, walking an excitable small dog on a leash. 

“Miss Imogen!” Magnus greets her politely.

She looks a bit startled at first, until she notices who is standing in front of her.

“Oh, the boys from Indonesia! I didn’t see you there, I was minding my steps because little Church always bounces around my feet! You have to be careful not to fall at my age, you see,” she says, feeding Church a treat once he sits down calmly.

“What are you boys up to tonight?” she asks.

“We were hoping to- ” Magnus doesn’t embarrass easily, but he isn’t sure how to talk about this to a little old grandma.”-where eh, where in New York would you go to, to find some nice people?

Miss Imogen does seem to catch on right away, though. “Well, you’ve got to go out and look, son! They won’t just fall on your lap!” her eyes gleam mischievously. 

“We’ve been to a lot of bars in Brooklyn tonight,” Ragnor sighs.

“Well that’s where you messed up, son, you can’t go to a bar to find a nice date!” she swats at Ragnor’s arm. 

“You’ve got to go to nice places, quiet places! Like, at a library, or a church. Or, you boys are students, right? Maybe your school hosts nice events. Speaking of events, this place where I’m going tonight - the Rainbow Rally. There’ll be some nice, good youth like yourselves there. It’s a fundraiser for those poor gay kids that get kicked out by their parents. Our local community center does a lot for all kinds of kids. Yes, yes, all good people there,” she nods.

Magnus looks at Ragnor with an excited expression. 

Ragnor shrugs, and sighs, “Yeah, sure, let’s go.”

---

The Rainbow Rally festivities had already started once they found their way to The Max Community Center. They step into the room that is unsurprisingly decorated with rainbow colored banners and balloons. The place is packed, but they spot two seats and quickly sit down on two empty plastic chairs. 

“My poor butt hurts already,” Ragnor hisses at him. Magnus decides to ignore him.

Up on stage, six girls who all looked in their twenties perform a dance routine to a 90s medley. They all wear black pants with a top in their own color. A girl with long dark hair in red, a girl with dark skin and curly hair in yellow, a pale redhead in green, an Asian girl in blue, a blond haired girl in purple and finally a brown haired girl in orange. They look like they have a lot of fun up there and have obviously put a lot of effort in.

As the medley comes to an end, the group takes their final pose and the audience gives them a standing ovation. Clearly, these girls are popular.

Ragnor claps, leans towards Magnus and mumbles, “Apparently these women are the best that Brooklyn has to offer. Pick one, and let’s go home.” 

Magnus snorts. “Patience, my friend. That’s not how this works. Besides, this evening is for a cause we should support. We’re staying.”

The audience sits back down again as the girls move out of their final pose, wave to the crowd, and hug each other. The girls wearing blue and purple have a little moment together, giving each other a quick kiss before putting their arms around each other, smiling brightly. 

A man wearing a blue suit and a ridiculous Mad Hatter-style top hat walks onto the stage holding a microphone. 

“Everyone, what a performance by our own dance troupe, Rainbow Power! They are some of the best volunteers we have: Isabelle, Maia, Helen, Aline, Rebecca and last but most definitely not least, my lovely daughter Clarissa!” 

The redhead’s embarrassed “Dad!” got picked up by the microphone enough to make the audience laugh. “Give it up one more time for our girls!” 

The audience claps and cheers enthusiastically as girls walk off the stage waving, leaving Mr. Mad Hatter standing there by himself. Not for long, as behind him a bespectacled young man fusses with microphones and other equipment, as a blond man tries to fix the wires.

The man in the top hat brings the mic back to his mouth. “I have a special treat for you today. She’s six years old and has the voice of an angel. No, scratch that, she is a literal angel. She can be a little bit shy, and she’s a bit nervous about performing tonight. So guys, gals and nonbinary pals, let us gently welcome little Madzie, and Simon Lewis who will accompany her on piano!”

The audience tones the volume of their clapping down considerably, as a little girl with braided pigtails, a little sparkly pink skirt and a little jean jacket walks up on stage. She’s holding the hand of the guy with glasses who set up the equipment, and he has to bend a little to accommodate her.

He sits down behind his electric piano, and little Madzie steps up onto a stool next to him. She stands in front of the mic and they hear her breathing a bit, before Simon asks her softly if she’s ready with a kind smile. She turns her head and nods.

Simon gently plays the intro to the song that Magnus doesn’t directly recognize until Madzie sings the first few lines, 

I believe the children are the future / teach them well and let them lead the way / show them all the beauty they possess inside. 

She starts off a bit insecure, but gets more confident with every line. Magnus is a big old softie and feels tears coming up. To his side he sees Ragnor looking touched as well. Everything about the performance is adorable.

For a six-year-old, Madzie’s closing notes are surprisingly clear and steady. Forgetting about being gentle, the audience gives another standing ovation. Madzie looks to the floor and shuffles her feet, but Simon takes her hand and together they walk to the middle of the stage and bow to the people. Madzie giggles.

The man in the top hat walks back on stage and whispers something in the ear of the young man. He laughs and pats him on the back and walks off the stage. 

“Put your hands together for our little Madzie here, who lives with her Nana here a block away. They sometimes struggle to make ends meet. But, she’s been coming to The Max for two years now and as you can hear, those free music lessons we’re able to provide -thanks to your generous donations- are paying off!”

The audience applauds, and Madzie is still holding the man’s hand and shyly looking down to her feet. 

“Hosting free classes and activities for our less privileged kids isn’t the only thing we do here at The Max. And that is what we are here for tonight. And as the founder and CEO of Morgenstern NetTech Innovators I am proud and honored to be the main sponsor of this event. However, this event would not have been a success without the main organizer of tonight’s festivities. Please come on up here, Mr. Alexander Lightwood!” 

The crowd immediately starts cheering like he has announced the most famous of celebrities, and Magnus is intrigued. He sees Madzie immediately letting go of Morgenstern’s hand and bolts across the stage to launch herself at a tall male figure, who picks her up and puts her on his hip, holding on to her with one arm.

As the man walks towards the microphone, Magnus’ feels his surroundings slowing down like he’s in a movie. This guy walks like a model, with dark hair and stubble that looks intentional, wearing grey trousers and a light pink dress shirt with his sleeves folded up to his elbows. How are his forearms gorgeous? As a finishing touch, he wears a tie with cartoon clouds and rainbows. 

He shakes the host’s hand, smiles to the audience and subtly tries to wave to someone, before speaking. “Thank you Valentine, for that introduction, and for doing a great job at hosting this evening so far. And of course, thank you to my friend Madzie here for treating us to that beautiful song.”

The audience applauds again, and the guy shares a smile with the girl on his arm, as she wraps her little arms around his neck. Magnus can feel himself melting.

“Madzie’s song makes a great point. The children are our future, and it is up for us to provide them the best possible start. For some children, this isn’t a given. And for kids and teens who discover that they’re gay or trans, for example… They face even more difficulties. Sometimes they get kicked out of their own homes. As a gay man myself, I’m sad to say that I know what that is like.” 

The audience is very quiet, as he clears his throat to carry on.

“That is why we’ve organized this evening. I’m proud to announce that we, as The Max, are working together with the Trevor Project to provide a safe space for all LGTBQ youth. We’re planning to run special workshops where these youth, regardless of background and orientation, can meet up with each other and share experiences. Or talk to one of our trained volunteers. We want to provide other emergency resources as well, and education to family members.”

He pauses and looks around the room. “As you can see, our volunteers are passing through the aisles with donation baskets. So please, give all you can. Now… We’re happy to get the kind of money that jingles, but we’d rather get the kind that folds,” he adds, with a youthful grin.

The baskets are passing through the rows and the chatter of people fills the room. One of them makes its way into Magnus’, but he can’t seem to take his eyes off the man on stage, who’s still holding the little girl. They seem to have a conversation away from the microphone, while she plays with his rainbow tie.

Ragnor clears his throat and holds up a bunch of 50 dollar bills folded together, that he still had on him after the shopping trip. “You wanted to donate something, right? We only have bills of 50 so it’s gonna be pretty generous I reckon-” 

Magnus mindlessly grabs the entire stack and puts it in the basket and hands it off. He can feel Ragnor’s astonishment, but he doesn’t care - this man on stage is perfect and he wants him. In every possible way.

The chatter dies down as the volunteers carry the baskets onto the stage.

Mr. Perfect moves towards the microphone again. “Thank you so much. Without you -our audience- this evening would not have been a success. And we still have some amazing performances for you, so I’m going to hand this microphone back to Valentine!”  

Under loud applause he smiles, bows gently, and walks off the stage. The volunteers carrying the baskets follow him. 

Magnus whimpers and elbows Ragnor repeatedly in his side. 

“Ouch, knock it off! What the hell was that for?” he whispers angrily while rubbing his hand over his ribcage.

“I think I’m in love,” Magnus whispers back, his eyes following this Alexander Lightwood.

Ragnor rolls his eyes. While Magnus is mentally planning his coronation alongside this beautiful man who’s apparently great with children because of course he’s perfect like that, he wonders if after this trip Ragnor’s eyes will be stuck spinning around in his sockets.

“-not able to donate money, maybe you can donate some of your time. At The Max we’re always looking for new volunteers! You’ll be able to make a real difference in the lives of our children. At the exit our staff will answer all of your questions and they’re ready to sign you right up!” Valentine gestures towards the exit, before announcing the next act.

Magnus stops listening after the call for new volunteers. He slowly turns his head towards Ragnor with the biggest grin on his face. “My friend, I just got the best idea!”

“No. Oh no. Definitely not!”

Chapter 3: Bane, Magnus Bane

“I hate you.” 

“Don’t be silly Ragnor, you love me.” Magnus says, as he looks into an old mirror on the wall. They’ve been given a stack of polos with the community center’s logo on it, with the apology that most common sizes are sadly out. 

Magnus snagged what was apparently the only small adult sized shirt out of the pile, because when he turns he sees Ragnor in a shirt several sizes too big. It hangs on Ragnor’s lean frame, the overall droopy look not helped by his expression. He looks annoyed, frustrated, overall done and everything in between.

“Come on now, just… French tuck it into your jeans. It’ll help.” Magnus suggests. He looks back at the mirror. His own shirt is probably a bit too snug, but if anything, it makes it cling to all the right places. He’s here on a mission, after all.

“Why can’t I wear the smaller size? Your shoulders are broader than mine.” 

“Because I’m the prince, and technically, you’re my servant. Plus, I’m here to woo a certain someone.” 

Ragnor shrugs his zip-up hoodie over his shirt and walks up to Magnus. He puts his hands on his shoulders and sighs.

“Magnus, I’m going to be honest with you. I love you and you’re my best friend, but this is by far the worst idea you have ever had.” he says, while looking straight at him.

Magnus wants to look away, but Ragnor demands eye contact.

“What do you think will happen? That within 87 days, the pretty boy will fall in love with you, and he won’t be upset when he finds out you’ve neglected to tell him that he’s expected to rule a country? And aside from that, you don’t actually know the guy! Sure, he made an impression up on that stage and honestly, it’s quite unfair how handsome he is, but you don’t know him. Hell, he might as well be in a relationship already.” 

Magnus knows he’s right and it stings. The fear of having to go back to Edom and marry Camille feels like a heavy weight that’s crushing his chest. He looks at Ragnor and fights the urge to cry.

He tries to find his voice, and what he says comes out sounding a lot more vulnerable than he intended. “Please… I-I can’t just-I got this feeling when I saw him. Like… You just know,  you know? I have to try, Ragnor. I have to.” 

He’s thankful Ragnor knows him so well. 

“OK. I really don’t agree with this, but I get it. Let’s see what we can do.” 

---

They step out of the staff room they were allowed to change in, and one of the girls who performed as part of the dance group is waiting for them. 

“Sorry again guys, the new shirts should be coming in soon and we’ll get you better fitting ones.” she apologizes, as she takes the shirts back from Ragnor and puts them back on a shelf.

“So, like I said, I’m Maia. I’m one of the volunteer team managers. I’m here a couple of days a week when school allows it, so, we’ll be seeing a lot of each other!” she claps her hands together and flashes them a friendly smile. “When I’m not here, there’s Clary, and Aline helps out when she has time. They’ll stop before the end of your shift so you’ll get to meet them today. Just so you know who to go to when you have questions.”

Magnus likes this energetic woman, she looks strong and mature despite her youthful face.

“What are you majoring in?” Magnus asks as she leads them to where they’ll be working.

“Marine biology, at Columbia.” she looks proud, and rightfully so. Magnus is impressed, and whistles between his teeth.

“I know,” she laughs, “I worked so hard to get in. I didn’t have a great home situation, I barely graduated high school and I didn’t even apply to any colleges. But then I found this center, I made some great friends and they got me to a better place. I started out taking classes at a local community college and ended up transferring to Columbia.”

She stops in front of cleaning supplies, and grabs hold of the wooden handle of the mop, and rolls the bucket forward. 

“You know, people think that we’re exaggerating when we tell our volunteers you're changing lives by helping us out. But it’s true, and I am proof of that. So thank you guys, and welcome to the family,” she smiles, and looks at Magnus as she rolls the cleaning supplies towards him. 

“So to start, we like to mop the floor every morning. You know how to mop, right?” she asks, looking at Magnus. He has never even touched a mop before in his life, but how hard could it be, really? So he nods, and she takes Ragnor to another room, who shoots Magnus one last look of disdain.

Mopping the floor turns out to be more work than he thought, but, after getting some help from a blond guy who introduced himself as Andrew Underhill in the small café attached to the center, he finds a good rhythm.

To make the chore more fun, he hums his favorite songs and adds some subtle dance moves. He hasn’t seen anyone other than Maia and Andrew, and they’re busy. Plus, the entrance of the building is just spacious enough, it’s honestly begging to be danced in.

Caught up in his smooth moves, he apparently stopped paying any attention to his surroundings because he dances right into someone, who then grabs his arms to steady him. Magnus spins around to apologize when his breath catches.

It’s him, and dammit, he is even more stunning up close. His eyes are intense and a shade of hazel he has never seen before. He’s tall, and broad-shouldered, and still looks amazing in a suit. His hair is a dark shade of brown and fluffy, like he’s been running his hands through it. Magnus knows he has never felt this kind of instant attraction to someone before.

And, if he’s not mistaken, he sees appreciation in Alexander Lightwood’s eyes, as he catches him running them over his body. Silently he thanks the heavens for this ridiculously tight shirt, because it looks like it’s working. He smirks at Alexander, who flushes a bit pink as he finds himself caught.

Magnus pulls himself together quickly. “I’m so sorry for bumping into you, but above all, good morning. I believe we haven’t been formally introduced?” he says as smooth as he can manage in front of this beautiful man, and holds out his hand.

“I’m Alexander. Lightwood. Well, Alec, really,” he says with a genuine, lopsided smile. “I own the center, together with my mother. I haven’t seen you around before, are you one of our new volunteers?” 

“Yes! Your speech during the Rainbow Rally was more than inspiring, I just had to sign myself up!” Magnus flashes him a broad smile. They seem to realize at the same that they’re still holding hands, and they awkwardly let go at once.

“That’s eh, that’s great to hear, we do amazing work here and your time is appreciated,” Alec smiles adorably shy. “I didn’t catch your name though?”

“Oh, my name is Magnus,” he says, cocking his head.

“Just Magnus?”

“Yes?” 

“You don’t have a last name?”

Well, shit. He actually doesn't have one. He certainly can’t tell Alexander that it’s not just Magnus, but His Royal Highness Asmodeus Magnus III, Prince of Edom - but no one had asked him for a normal last name, until now. His mind goes blank and he fears his charming expression has now turned into ‘deer caught in headlights’, as his eyes shoot across the room. They land on a couple of framed Batman comics hanging on the wall.

“...Bane?” he blurts out, immediately regretting his choice. Alexander’s eyebrows shoot up, probably because he’s making it sound like he’s asking him a question.

 “Yes, Bane. Magnus Bane.” he nods, because there’s no way he can take it back now without making the situation worse. 

Alec doesn’t look convinced, as he asks, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, of course I’m sure, I know what my own last name is,” he says jokingly. His heart beats fast and he feels his cheeks heating up, this time it’s not because of his brand new crush standing in front of him, but because he fears he has no choice but to double down. “I know it sounds weird in English, but it’s actually quite common where I’m from.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make fun of your name, I-” Alec immediately rushes out with a concerned expression. 

“It’s quite alright, darling,” he says. He hates to admit it, but Ragnor was right: he already feels awful lying to this man’s face, and this was only the first time. But he himself decided to make this very normal bed, and he’s stubborn if nothing else, so now he’ll lie in it. 

Alec gives him a soft smile. “Well, I better get going, I have a meeting to prepare for.”

“Yes, of course. Hopefully we’ll get the chance to talk again. On a professional level,” Magnus says.

Alec rubs his hands together. “I- It was nice meeting you,” he says, still smiling, and turns to leave.

“Oh, Alexander!” Magnus calls out after he’s a few steps away. He turns back around again and looks at him questioningly.

“I have recently been placed in charge of garbage disposal, so… If you have anything that requires disposal, don’t be afraid to call on me. I’ll come take it out most urgently,” he says.

“That’s… Good to know.” Alec says, with an expression between confusion and laughter.

“When you think of garbage, think of Magnus!” he exclaims with the biggest grin he can muster.

Alexander nods, now visibly trying to hold back his laughter, and turns around again to walk towards the offices.

“...Oh, you fucking dumbass.” Magnus whispers to himself, and watches him walk away. He turns to the wall and thumps his head against it. The only thing going for him right now is that Ragnor wasn’t here to witness this exchange.

---

The rest of the week goes by quietly. He and Ragnor volunteer a shift every day, much to Ragnor’s annoyance. Most days he manages to greet Alec, but he hasn’t gotten the opportunity to really talk to him. Yet he is crushing harder and harder on this captivating man with every smile they exchange.

In the meanwhile, he has started to befriend the volunteer coordinators, Maia and Clary. They’re both still in college, which nearly made Magnus blow his cover as a fake student. He’s also getting along well with Andrew, who manages the café, even though he’s very flirty - even for Magnus’ taste.

It’s the weekend, and Magnus has taken up a volunteering shift by himself, letting Ragnor sleep back at the apartment. Although he’s sure he’s secretly planning to video chat with Cat while Magnus is out, which makes him happier than he thought it would. 

There’s a lot of kids running around this Saturday, as most classes are held during the weekend, and Magnus spots little Madzie from the rally. He had a coffee in the morning with Clary, who hosts several painting classes today. And also he met her boyfriend Jace, who introduced himself as being in charge of the boxing and judo programs. Jace also turned out to be Alexander’s brother, even though they look nothing alike. 

Magnus is helping Andrew out and having a pretty good time. He’s wiping down the counter as Alec walks in, and even in a plain black sweater he looks unfairly good. He’s trying to think of an excuse to go and talk to him, until he sees him sitting down at a table where a sharp -yet boring- dressed Desi looking man had been sitting for a while. The guy smiles, stands up to lean over the table to grab Alec’s chin and kisses him.

Magnus knows he doesn’t have any right to, but he feels like someone kicked him in the stomach. Of course this perfect man isn’t single, what was he thinking? He takes some deep breaths to gather himself and turns to Andrew.

“So… That’s Alexander’s... boyfriend?” he asks, and while he tries to go for casual he knows he’s probably failing. Spectacularly.

Andrew grimaces. “Yup. They’ve been together for a while now. He’s such a douchebag.” 

Magnus turns his head in shock. “Who, Alexander?!” 

“No, what the hell, of course not,” Andrew scoffs as he finishes polishing a tea glass. “He’s a literal angel. Too good for this world, especially with what he’s been through. We’ve been friends since college, he got me this job and everything after this thing that happened with my ex Lorenzo…” Andrew trails off for a bit.  “Doesn't matter. I meant Raj.”

Andrew throws the dishcloth over his shoulder and moves closer to him to mimic Magnus’ pose, leaning on the counter with his elbows. They try to look at the couple as subtle as they can.

“So… what’s the deal with Raj then?” Magnus asks quietly.

“Look. Some details are important to the story, but they’re just not my place to tell you. So this is gonna be vague on purpose.” Andrew looks down at his hands and plays with the watch on his wrist. “Alec met Raj when he was in a bad place. Really bad. He was so vulnerable and Raj… He just swooped in and didn’t take no for an answer, I guess? I don’t think Raj ever takes no for an answer. He always gets what he wants,” he scoffs. “And…”

Magnus looks at him questioningly. 

“And he’s why Alec went through a time where he hardly spent time with his friends anymore, me included.” The blond man has now taken his watch from his wrist and fidgets with the strap. 

“Raj, he gets jealous a lot. Like, I’m gay too, and therefore I’m obviously trying to get into Alec’s pants. Or so he said. Don’t get me wrong, Alec is definitely the most handsome man I have ever seen but like… He’s my friend. I don’t see him like that, at all. You know what I mean?” 

“I do. I’m bi, and I’ve had to deal with this kind of stuff too,” Magnus sighs. “Like because you’re not straight, you’re automatically attracted to anyone you talk to.”

“Right? That’s exactly what I mean. I’m sorry, man. No one deserves that kind of shit, especially not based on their sexuality.” He puts his hand on Magnus’ shoulder and gives him a kind smile.

“Anyway, Alec was so broken and I think at some point, he was glad that Raj was making decisions for him because he was so burned out. About two years ago, his brother and sister, his other two best friends and I, we held some kind of intervention. Told him things were not OK the way they were. And he listened. He got himself some therapy and now he’s smiling again. This past year has been really good for him.” 

“So, they must be pretty serious, if they’re still together,” Magnus says.

“I know Raj is. I mean, as serious as you can be about someone you really only want as a trophy husband. But Alec… I don’t know. Of course he cares for him, but I feel like he stays with him out of obligation. It’s hard to break up with someone after being together for a few years. But they don’t live together, like, Alec still lives with his siblings. Every conversation where Raj or Maryse brings up moving in together or getting married… He’s tense immediately, laughs everything off and changes the topic at lightspeed. So if you ask me, he’s not happy and this thing,” he gestures in their general direction, “Is not gonna last. But he won’t talk about it. At least, not to me.”

Magnus feels bad about how hopeful hearing all this gossip makes him, so he tries to ask something less loaded. “Maryse?”

“Maryse Trueblood, his mom, she’s the one he owns this place with. She’s on vacation now somewhere in the Caribbean but she’ll be back next week. Strong, passionate, and honest to God terrifying when she’s angry. But really sweet when you’re on her good side,” Andrew drags the dishcloth from his shoulder and slaps it against the counter. “So that’s that. If anyone brings it up, remember - act surprised, you know nothing.” 

“It’ll be like brand new information,” Magnus nods.

“Exactly. And Magnus?” 

“Yeah?”

“If you’re looking for a date, I’m single, you know,” Andrew winks and walks to the back.

Magnus laughs and shakes his head.

---

After his shift, Magnus bundles up again and walks home. It hasn’t snowed for the last two days, so the sidewalks are still mostly clear.

Everything Andrew had told him is dancing through his mind. He feels awful for being excited about his crush allegedly being unhappy in his current relationship, and picturing himself as the knight in shining armor who’s going to save him and live happily ever after as kings of Edom.

But what is he going to do, sabotage a relationship? Seduce Alexander and have him cheat on his boyfriend? No, he has been cheated on himself, he won’t make someone else go through that kind of pain. No matter how awful they allegedly are.

And who says Andrew is even right? He might as well be seeing what he wants to see because he wanted his friend back.

But if Alexander is unhappy… It can’t hurt to befriend him and be painfully charming, right? What does he have to lose? His worst-case scenario is having to go back to Edom and marry Camille. Plus, Magnus did always like a challenge… But how is he going to grab Alec’s attention?

“You’re thinking so loud, it’s making my head hurt, son.” 

Magnus jumps a little at the sudden interruption from his stream of thoughts, until he sees a familiar old man sitting on a bench by himself.

He smiles and bows his head a little. “Good afternoon, Mr. Hodge.”

“Come, sit. Tell old Hodge what’s wrong. No, wait,” he points his finger at Magnus and squints at him. “Let me guess, it’s girl trouble.”

Magnus sits down next to him and fumbles with his gloves. “...Kinda?”

Hodge nods. “Ah, I see. Boy trouble. Basically the same thing, right?” 

Magnus chortles. “Yeah. Yeah, I suppose it is.” 

“Tell me about it, and we’ll fix it, son.”

“So, I’m trying to gain the attention of a certain young man, but…” Magnus starts.

“And you’re sure he isn’t heterosexual?” Hodge interrupts.

“Oh yes, very sure,” Magnus says.

“Is this an American boy?” 

“I don’t know? I think so?” Magnus has no idea what that has to do with anything.

“You see, son, when you’re trying to attract the attention of a nice American boy or girl, you gotta get in well with their parents! This is a common misconception, it’s got nothing to do with you or what you look like. If you get in good with the folks, you get in good with your sweetheart.” Hodge finishes.

Magnus looks at him. He’s not convinced, and it must show on his face.

“I ain’t lying!” Hodge sounds a little insulted.

“Well, in that case, thank you for your wisdom.” Magnus stands up again and continues his walk home.

---

Hodge’s advice in the back of his head, he finds himself behind the café counter with Andrew next Wednesday. And while he likes Maia and Clary -or Helen and Aline, who he spent time with in between their dance classes last Sunday- he doesn’t feel comfortable talking about this with anyone else.

Not that he tells Andrew about his ulterior motives with Alexander, of course.

The central theme of this week had been the return of Maryse Trueblood. Andrew’s description had been pretty accurate. While mopping the floor, he had heard her talk on the phone with a delivery company who hadn’t held up their end of the deal. None of her rant was directed at him, but he felt put in his place all the same.

And save from an introduction and some greetings, he wasn’t actually able to “get in good” with Maryse at all. In fact, a compliment about her beautiful latest collection Burberry trench coat had only resulted in an expression of which he wasn’t even sure what it had meant to convey. But whatever it was, it wasn’t pleased. 

The return of Maryse did make him wonder about Alexander’s father. The fact that he was Lightwood and his mother Trueblood, he assumed his parents had gone through a divorce. To avoid awkward conversations, he figured he should subtly ask Andrew.

It’s a Wednesday morning, and they’re cleaning everything the elderly yoga class has left behind after their post-workout tea party.

“Hey Andrew?” 

“Yes, Magnus? Are you finally gonna ask me out?” he grins.

“No, not exactly,” Magnus rolls his eyes. “I was just wondering, is Maryse divorced?”

 Andrew’s flirty expression immediately drops to an uncomfortable one. “Why do you ask?” 

Magnus feels glad he didn’t ask Alexander or Maryse in person if this is Andrew’s reaction. He clears his throat. “Well, everyone talks about Alexander’s mother and brother and sister but I’ve never heard anyone talk about his father.” 

“There’s a reason for that, and I don’t feel comfortable discussing the details of that, either. But yeah, Maryse and his father Robert did get a divorce about ten years ago, and a few years after the divorce he died. It’s still a loaded topic for everyone so… It’s probably best if you don’t bring it up yourself. If one of them wants to tell you at some point, they will.” Andrew concludes and moves to put the coffee cups away.

“Hi guys!” Magnus’ day suddenly gets brighter when Alexander walks past and waves at them. Andrew just waves back.

“Hi!” he replies, a little too dreamily.

His mood dampens when he sees him walking outside where Raj is waiting in his car, smoking out of the window. It’s a very nice sports car. Raj flicks the cigarette on the sidewalk as Alec walks around the car and gets into the passenger seat. Magnus can’t help but sigh a little as he watches them drive off.

“So Raj drives a really nice car,” he states.

“Yeah, he likes to brag,” Andrew scoffs.

“He must work hard if he can afford a car like that.” 

Andrew barks out a laugh full of disdain. “What, prince Raj, work? You’ve got to be kidding me. He lives off his parents’ money. You went to the Rainbow Rally, right? You remember the guy hosting, with the goofy top hat?”

“I do,” Magnus says, biting on his bottom lip.

“That was Valentine Morgenstern, he’s Clary’s dad and one of the main sponsors of The Max. Anyway, he and his company developed that 4D-breaking-the-speed-barrier type internet, or whatever it’s called. Raj’s parents were wealthy before they invested in its development, but when that took off... “ he shakes his head. “They’re rich as royalty now. Raj technically works for them, but trust me, he hasn’t worked a single day in his life.” 

The first thought that pops into Magnus’ mind is thinking that him being a wealthy prince shouldn’t be much of a dealbreaker for Alexander if he’s ok with this - and immediately kicking himself for it.

“He’s a cheap bastard though, when it concerns others,” Andrew continues, always happy to rant about Raj. “The other night after the Rainbow Rally, when Alexander had sorted out the donations he found out someone put like a whole bundle of 50 dollar bills in. Raj took credit for it, and that was a big fat lie,” he scoffs. “He hates Alec working at The Max, he thinks he’s naive and wasting his talent on something as dumb as a community center. Our friends privately agree with me, that he'd never donate anything, let alone that much. So I’m not making this up because I hate the guy.” 

Magnus stills. He knows Andrew isn’t making it up, because it sounds exactly like the stack of money Ragnor handed him that night.

Andrew seemingly takes his silence as encouragement to keep on talking. “Like I said, Raj always gets what -or who- he wants. And he buys him the most extravagant shit. How are guys like us gonna ever compete with that, right?”

His tone is joking, but Magnus… He could. It wouldn’t even be a competition. Raj’s parents might be rich as proverbial royalty, but Magnus? He’s a literal royal. If he can’t follow Hodge’s advice and get in good with the folks, it wouldn’t hurt to try and buy him something extraordinary. Anonymously. 

Right?

---

Alec has stretched his legs out on their L-shaped couch, finally reading that book that everyone has been talking about. He’s been so busy with work, and Raj had demanded a lot of attention, so he just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

Izzy is dancing around the living room with exaggerated moves to the 90s medley she performed to during the fundraiser. He admires her. Often he wonders how someone can be both a technological genius and a social butterfly that knows how to move. He smiles fondly at her but shakes his head when she gestures at him to join her.

He’s not as shy as he used to be, but it takes effort for him to do the things that his job requires him to do - networking, finding new sponsors, public speaking. However he’s well aware of what he was like when he was younger, and has finally managed to be proud of himself and who he is becoming.

Flipping the page, he hears the doorbell as a background noise. 

“I’ll get it!” Izzy yells and turns the music down, but still dances her way to the front door.

“Special… -ightwood?” is all he manages to overhear.

“Sure, where do I sign?” Whatever it is, Izzy sounds excited.

He hears the door close and Izzy walks back into the living room with a small, but expensive-looking gift bag. She all but throws herself down on the couch next to him, reaches into the bag and takes out a luxuriously wrapped box.

Alec laughs, this is something that would only happen to Izzy. “What’s that?”

“I don’t know, something for you,” she grins and she wiggles her eyebrows at him.

“What?” Alec says, surprised.

“Yeah, this guy was at the front door with like, security people. They said it was a special delivery for Mr. Alexander Lightwood,” she says.

Alec has no idea what this is about. Raj occasionally buys him expensive gaudy things. But he never gives them in private, because there’s no one to watch him flaunt his wealth - let alone having it delivered to his house when he won’t be there to brag about it.

While he feels a bit wary, his curiosity ends up winning.

“Well, do you mind if I open it, then?” he snatches the box from her hands and sticks out his tongue, like the mature older brother he is.

His hands feel too big for the delicate bows that hold the box together, but after some fumbling he manages to open the box. It reveals a beautiful classic Rolex watch with a moonphase mechanism. He is stunned.

Izzy whistles between her teeth. “Wow, this is the first thing Raj has bought you where he actually had your tastes in mind.”

Alec feels bad, but it’s another reason why he doubts it was Raj who sent the watch. He clears his throat and tries to find his voice. “Did it come with a card or anything?” 

Picking the bag off the floor, Izzy rummages through the wrapping paper and finds a card. Her eyes widen comically as she reads out loud: “From an Admirer - NOT RAJ.”

She jumps up and slaps Alec’s arm. “Somebody has been messing around!”

“I am not, you know me better than that! And I don’t even know anyone with this kind of money, other than Raj. Or the Morgensterns,” Alec says, insulted that his baby sister would think that of him.

Izzy puts her hands in her sides and says, “I don’t care how much a man admires you, but no one gets anyone a gift like that unless they think they have a chance to get with you.” 

Alec runs his fingers along the gold framing the face of the watch. Someone admires him. Enough to get him a watch that must have cost at least 20.000 dollars. And they did it anonymously. 

But that someone also knows he has a boyfriend. Because he made sure that Alec knows it wasn’t a gift from said boyfriend. Is this a test to see if he’s faithful? From Raj? Maybe it’s a crude joke, trying to trick him into thinking someone cares about him. 

“...Do you think it’s a real Rolex?” he asks Izzy with a small voice.

She seems to sense his inner turmoil and calms down to sit close to him. He lets her take the box, and looks at her while she inspects it.

“It has to be.” 

He takes the box back and takes the watch from it. Izzy leans against him and puts her head on his shoulder.

“Are you gonna tell me what goes on in your head, or am I going to tell you?” she asks.

Alec sighs. Izzy can read him like an open book, in all capital letters. Where some people say it’s best not to push people and let them come to you in their own time, Izzy bulldozes right over his defenses and speaks her mind. Because otherwise he’d never talk, she says.

And she’s probably right. Secretly he’s glad when she decides to put into words what she thinks he’s thinking, because that way he doesn’t have to himself. It makes it easier. 

So he says, “Go ahead.” 

“I think that you’re not happy with your life right now. I think you don’t love Raj in the sense that you want to marry him and raise a family. I think you stay with him because you feel like you owe him after what happened. Honestly, I think that you’re still thinking you don’t deserve to be loved at all.”

Alec swallows thickly, and doesn’t try to stop her from saying the things he’s been trying too hard to keep down inside.

“And I think that by receiving this watch that has clearly been bought with you -and only you- in mind, you once again realize Raj doesn’t love you for you, he only loves you as an accessory for him. And it’s suffocating you.”

Alec lets out a shaky breath.

“I think you might be right,” he whispers.

---

It’s been another week and New York has been spared more snowfall. This has significantly improved Ragnor’s mood, although Magnus suspects that his early morning video chat sessions with Catarina have something to do with that as well.

Distance really does make the heart grow fonder, and it amuses him to no end. Especially since Ragnor seems under the impression that he’s being very subtle about it.

What Ragnor hasn’t been subtle about however, is his disapproval of the anonymous Rolex delivery. In fact, he has been very vocal about what an awful idea he thinks it was.

Today they have been placed on sanitation duty and they’re cleaning the windows of the lobby on the inside. Outside, Alexander is walking up to the building, accompanied by two women he’s never seen before. He sees Magnus and waves at him with that shy smile that makes his knees go weak.

“Ragnor, there he is. And I’m going to talk to him.” 

“Good!” Ragnor tosses his cloth in a bucket. “Tell him you sent him that 25,000 dollar watch, then he can fall into your arms and we can leave this godforsaken place.”  

“No, I cannot do that,” Magnus says indignantly.

“Well, do something!” 

“Don’t worry, I do have a plan,” he says.

Ragnor throws his signature eye roll. “What are you gonna do, mop your way into his heart? 

The comment rubs Magnus the wrong way. “That, my friend, is not fair.” 

“What’s not fair is me doing manual labor.” Ragor grumbles and stares down at his hands. “I am badly in need of a manicure.”

Magnus barks out a laugh. “Oh listen to you, I am badly in need of a manicure,” he mocks. “People will think you’re the pampered prince, not me.” 

Ragnor turns to him and it looks like he’s debating on punching his arm, or come up with a spectacular rebuttal - but he does neither.

Magnus lifts an eyebrow. “Were you going to say something?”

Ragnor visibly gives up, picks up his cloth again and goes back to cleaning windows.

---

While putting back the window cleaning equipment in the supply closet, he spots Alexander and the two women at the café. He excuses himself to Maia for a bit as he shrugs off the zip-up hoodie to leave him in that snug fitting polo. Confidently he walks in the direction of the café, when he sees Andrew joining them.

It turns out he doesn’t even need to think of an excuse, because Andrew notices him and waves him over. He feels butterflies in his stomach when he comes close to the table and sees Alexander wearing his new watch. It looks amazing on his wrist, just like he imagined it would.

“Guys, this is my new friend Magnus!” Andrew introduces him to the table. “He’s from Indonesia and started volunteering here a few weeks ago.” 

“We’ve met,” Alexander smiles. “Please, take a seat.” 

Magnus grabs a chair from another table and sits at the head. 

The brown-haired girl next to him sticks out her hand, “Good to meet you Magnus, I’m Becky!” She has a contagious smile and bright dark eyes and has a very friendly, approachable energy to her.

She leans her shoulder into the blond woman next to her, who looks very calm and put together. “This is my wife,” she says.

The blond woman smiles and holds out her hand as well. “Lydia, nice to meet you,” she says. Her blue eyes are sharp, like they’re not about to miss anything that’s going on.

“So, Andrew says you’re from Indonesia, what brings you to New York? And The Max?” Lydia asks.

Magnus figured out a while ago it’s easier to just go with people mistakenly thinking he’s Indonesian. He feels like it makes it less likely for anyone to recognize him, even though the odds of someone recognizing the crown prince of a small Southeast Asian island nation are already pretty slim.

“I’m a student, my friend and I are here for our research. And at the Rainbow Rally, Alexander here inspired us so, that we figured we might as well take the opportunity to gain this valuable experience and do some good,” Magnus says. He can feel himself smiling dreamily at Alec, who returns a smile and looks a bit flustered at the praise.

Lydia cuts in with what feels like a rude awakening. “That’s nice, what university do you go to?”

“...The University of-of the United States,” Magnus blurts out.

Becky looks at him with a confused expression. “I’ve never heard of that.”

Magnus finds his most awkward smile again and shrugs. “It is a very small private university. We do not even have our own basketball team.” 

Andrew jumps in at that. “Oh, we have an extra ticket for the Knicks game this weekend, wanna come?” 

Magnus finds Alexander’s eyes who smiles at him again, with a soft nod and an expression that he feels says why not join us? 

“Yes,” Magnus breathes out.

“Great!” Becky claps her hands together excitedly. “It’s a triple date!” 

It’s a what now?! 

“It’ll be Becky and Lydia, me and Raj, and you can be Underhill’s date,” Alec says.

Andrew grins at him and lifts his eyebrows.

Oh, Magnus thinks. 

That took an unexpected turn.

Chapter 4: Learning to walk, run, climb and dance

Magnus has no idea what normal people wear to a sporting event. On top of that, basketball is pretty much a nonexistent sport in Edom. But he has seen movies, and from his limited research, people seem to wear shirts with team logos on it. Since he’s supposed to be a foreign student on a budget, he feels like he can’t go and buy one.

Instead, he dresses like he imagines a normal, casual date to be like. He picks a floral blue button down, and leaves a few unbuttoned at the top. He tucks his shirt into slim fit jeans and lets his feet slide into his boots. He didn’t bring any jewelry, so this’ll have to do. While he usually wears a topknot when volunteering, for this day out he feels like he could pull off a mohawk along with some sparkly black eyeliner.

Ragnor still thinks he’s dumb as fuck for voluntarily leaving the apartment in this weather, but Magnus doesn’t care. It might be a triple date, but it’s still a date. He can show off his good side and if nothing else, experience some more normal real life things, like going to a sports event with friends.

They had agreed to meet each other outside of Madison Square Garden. Magnus has no intention of making a bad impression by showing up late, but when he arrives he is surprised to find Becky and Lydia already standing there.  

It is nice getting to know two of Alec’s best friends, to learn about their hobbies and work. Becky talks about how she and Alec were only out to each other for the majority of their teenage years, being the only queer kids at their school. They end up talking about how Alexander had introduced Becky and Lydia during their college years, and how it had been love at first sight. And the time he went shopping for engagement rings with Lydia, and helped her set up the surprise proposal. Magnus didn’t think he could be even more taken by this man if he tried.

Soon after they are joined by Andrew, and the conversation shifts to excitement about the game, and how good their seats supposedly are. Becky and Andrew are throwing player names around like it’s a competition, and Lydia leans towards Magnus and confides in him that she has absolutely no interest whatsoever in basketball, but makes an effort because her wife loves it.

 Ten minutes later they are joined by Raj and Alec. Raj holds his hand stiffly around Alec’s waist, who in turn has his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. He smiles when he sees his friends and that’s their cue to head into the venue.

Magnus calmly follows the group, who seem to know exactly where they need to go. He notices that five minutes ago the conversation involved everyone, and it is now dominated by Raj. Who is apparently responsible for these great tickets, because of his amazing connections. He catches Andrew’s eyes, who in turn makes a strangling motion with his hands. Magnus snorts.

They find their section and row and Magnus walks in after Lydia, Becky and Andrew. On his other side he finds Raj, and Alec and his long legs get the seat next to the staircase.

He realizes that he has never actually talked to Raj before. And now that he’s sitting next to him, he doesn’t know what to say. He realizes he’s probably biased anyway, now that Andrew found in him an outlet for all his Raj-related complaints. 

The game begins. Magnus sits back, and lets his eyes roam over the circus before him. The action on the court, real cheerleaders on the side, the enthusiastic fans in the stands. He rubs his hands over his upper legs.

“Wearing jeans must be a new experience for you.” Raj says.

Magnus doesn’t know how fast to turn his head to the man in disbelief.

Alec looks very uncomfortable and before Magnus can say anything, he looks at Magnus. “Are you able to follow the game?” he asks with an apologetic smile.

“Yes, I’m able to follow the game quite well,” Magnus gives Alec a polite nod back. He feels Andrew patting his knee in support.

“So what game do you play in the Philippines, Indonesia, wherever the hell you’re from? Chase the monkey?” Raj laughs at his own pathetic excuse for a joke, eyes not leaving the court.

Magnus sighs deep, forcing himself to not take the bait. “No, we mostly play football. I believe you call it soccer.”

“Soccer,” Raj scoffs. “Yeah, that’s a real funny sport, real manly. How y’all bounce that ball off your heads. I’m sorry, but that’s just not a real sport. I don’t watch any sport where men are afraid to use their hands.” 

At this point Magnus fears that regardless of what he says, Raj will mock it. He’s never had to encounter anything like this - he’s the sole heir to the throne of a wealthy island paradise. People usually bend over backwards to accommodate him.

He guesses it looks like Andrew might have been right about this guy after all. But right now, he’s had enough and figures he could use a nice long walk to the restrooms. “Will you excuse me for a moment, please…” 

Alec’s expression is hurt and looks like he’s about to say something, but Magnus purposely avoids his eyes as he gets up and shuffles out of the row. 

“Do you want me to go with you?” Andrew calls after him.

“No, I’ll be able to find the restrooms by myself, don’t worry,” he smiles without meaning it and walks up the stairs out of the arena.

---

There’s an impressive line, even for the men’s room. But Magnus doesn’t mind. It gives him the opportunity to calm down a little, and above all, do some people watching. There’s elderly people in jerseys, parents with young children on their shoulders, adorable teenage couples walking hand in hand. 

He sees a concessions vendor walking past him with a tray of goods, their eyes met and he nods kindly at him as he walks past. A few seconds later he hears a man screaming.

“Oh my goodness. Oh my goodness! It is YOU!” the vendor exclaims. “I cannot believe it!” 

“Oh!” He falls to his knees and takes his Knicks cap from his head, and holds his hands out to him like he’s his savior. “Greetings, Your Highness!”, after which he starts bowing rapidly, his hands over his heart. 

Magnus panics and he feels his entire face flushing. 

This man knows who he is. 

The entire line to the men’s restroom has stopped and is staring at the scene unfolding in front of them, that must look odd even for New York standards. He leans towards the man and reaches his hands out to him. “Please sir, please stop bowing,” he urges with a fake smile. He looks around him, but thankfully doesn’t recognize anyone standing around.

The vendor grabs his hands and looks up at him and his eyes are full of wonder. “I am a loyal citizen of Edom!” he says loudly, seemingly unaware of the scene he’s making.

“Yes, but you’re going to spill your beverages,” Magnus keeps urging. “Please sir, please stand up.”

The vendor’s mouth falls open. “This is the greatest day of my life,” he says, and based on his expression, Magnus believes him. He feels bad to disappoint his loyal subject, but he can’t be found out. 

“Yes, it was very nice meeting you too. Please excuse me!” he puts up his widest smile and smoothly walks himself out of the line and back into the corridor, towards the entrance of where their row was located.

He sees Alexander and Andrew walking towards him, probably worried because he was taking so long. He takes a deep breath and gives them a small wave, letting them know he’s OK.

“Please! Please!” The pleads get louder and he hears someone running behind him. 

He turns around and is immediately face to face with the vendor from before. He has a co-worker with him now, who is holding a phone. “May I just have my picture taken with you?” he pleads. Magnus shrugs uncomfortably and the guy moves to stand next to him. 

The vendor, in his excitement, wraps his arm around Magnus, takes off his cap again and places it over his heart. They pose, Magnus forces a smile that’s too toothy, and his coworker snaps a few quick pictures. 

The guy turns to face him again and beams, “I will cherish this experience for the rest of my life.” 

Trying to make the situation seem more natural Magnus offers him a handshake, but instead he bows, and makes sure to connect his forehead to Magnus’ hand. 

“The rest of my life,” he seems to pledge, and repeats the motion. After him, the photographer walks up to him and mimics the forehead-to-hand bow. 

Giddy like a pair of starstruck teens the two walk away, leaving Magnus alone with Alexander and Andrew, who look gobsmacked. They look between themselves and back at Magnus with open mouths, so he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck and smiles weakly at them gesturing to the entrance to the arena.

But they don’t move an inch. Alexander is the first one to find his voice. “...Who was that?” 

“Oh, just… A man I met in the restroom.” he nods with an awkward smile, and decides to just walk back to his seat, eventually followed by his friends.

---

Magnus doesn’t see Alexander around The Max for the next couple of days after the game. Somehow he’s glad, hoping he’ll have forgotten about the whole picture-with-a-random-stranger thing next time they see each other. When he does see him again it’s a Wednesday afternoon, and he’s sitting in the café at a table near the window. 

With Raj.

Magnus is mopping a corner of the café where some mothers and unruly toddlers had previously had lunch, with the remnants of said lunch smeared across the tables and floor. Ragnor laughed at him when Maia asked him to clean it, while he got to help her out with some paperwork.

He doesn’t mind though, because from where he’s cleaning he can overhear Raj and Alec.

“Babe, why don’t you quit this job?” Raj asks him.

“Because I love it here,” Alec says defensively. “Mom and I made this place into what it is today.”

“Yeah, but everything runs smoothly now, right? You’re my man, and my man doesn’t have to work. I’ll take care of you. I’ll get you everything you want.” 

Alexander’s shoulders are hunched and he’s making himself look a lot smaller than he is, while his hands are in front of him as Raj holds onto them.

“What can I get you?” Raj asks.

Magnus can hear a tired smile in Alec’s voice as he says, “Nothing, Raj, I’m fine.” 

Raj doesn’t seem to take no for an answer. “I’ll get you some… Coffee?” 

That gets a more genuine smile out of Alec. “Sure. Coffee is good,” he tells him.

“Be right back.” Raj says, as he gets up from the table. 

Magnus takes this opportunity to mop his way over to Alec, but pretends he doesn’t notice him.

“Hey, Magnus!” Alec says, and Magnus turns to see him smiling at him from where he’s leaning on the table. “Did you have a good time at the game?”

“Yes I did, thank you very much for inviting me,” Magnus smiles.

“Sit down, take a break for me,” Alec gestures to the chair Raj had been sitting in, and Magnus doesn’t have to think twice.

Alec stares at his hands, and lightly pinches the skin between his thumb and his index finder.

He swallows. “I- I wanted to apologize for Raj’s behavior at the game. I can’t believe the things he said to you, they were extremely offensive. Even for him. He can be quite obnoxious,” he says quietly, looking up at Magnus through his long lashes.

Magnus is captivated by his eyes. He’s never met anyone before whose eyes seemed to take the concept of mirror to the soul so literally. So he shrugs. “I’m sure he cannot help it.”

Alexander gives him a soft, lopsided smile. “You know, you’re a very unusual guy. I’ve never seen anyone mop the floor with so much pride as you put into it.” 

Magnus chuckles. “Well, you know what they say… He who would learn to fly one day must first learn to walk and run and climb and dance; one cannot fly into flying.”

The expression in Alec’s eyes is wondrous, and Magnus wants nothing more than to lean across the table and kiss him. But he can’t, so instead he clarifies, “That was not mine, that was Nietzsche.” 

“See!” Alec says with unexpected passion, laying his hand over Magnus’, “That’s exactly what I mean. Most of our volunteers don’t go around mopping floors while quoting Nietzsche,” he laughs.

Magnus smiles back, but before he gets a chance to reply, he hears Maia scream.

He twists in his seat to look at what’s going on, and he sees a wild eyed young man with a knife in the middle of the café.

Ragnor has stepped in front of Maia, who is visibly shaking.

“How could you do this to me? You said you would love me forever!” he slurs, clearly under the influence of something. The café has gotten so silent, you could hear a pin drop.

Still, he spins around, holding his knife out in front of him. “Everybody shut the fuck up!” 

“Jordan, please, don’t do this,” Maia sobs.

“Well, I have to now!” He stumbles towards her, swaying on his feet. “This is all your fault!”

Magnus feels like he has to do something. So he’s going to do what he has been training for all these years. He twists the wooden handle off the mop he was still holding on to, trying to meet Ragnor’s eyes. When they do, he quietly gestures towards the handle and Ragnor blinks fast, twice. Magnus knows he’s catching on.

“Excuse me for a moment, Alexander,” he whispers, but continues to look at Jordan’s back.

He gets up and holds the handle of the mop in front of him. Jordan hears his footsteps as he swings around, and stumbles a bit to the side, still swinging the knife around. He looks confused.

“Please, it would be wise of you to put the knife down,” Magnus says gently.

Jordan stumbles some more. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Stay out of this,” he shouts, making unsteady stabbing motions.

“Please refrain from using profanities in the presence of these people.” Magnus continues in a voice much calmer than he feels. “This is my last warning. Put the knife down or I will be forced to thrash you.”

“Fuck you!” is all Jordan manages to sputter out, before Magnus grabs his stick and with some swift hits he works him to the ground. Ragnor immediately rushes in to step on his wrist and takes the knife from him, while Magnus keeps him on the ground. 

A collective sigh of relief sounds through the seating area. Maia falls into Andrew’s arms and cries as he strokes her back.

---

Jordan, who turned out to be Maia’s ex-boyfriend turned stalker, is swiftly dealt with by the authorities. A replacement is called for Maia, who was immediately taken home by Alexander. He must have stayed with her, because Magnus doesn’t see him return to the center.

Surprisingly enough, Maryse ended up calling him and Ragnor to her office to personally thank them. She shared a bit about how after their break-up Jordan had stopped by The Max before, but never armed and under the influence. 

Maryse asks them if they are available upcoming Saturday evening, and if they would like to help her out with a private matter. Magnus immediately says yes for obvious reasons, which greatly upsets Ragnor.

And that’s how they find themselves standing outside in the cold in front of a nice place in the Upper East Side, as waiting staff for a small party Maryse was hosting. She asks Ragnor to stay by the door to welcome people in and take their coats, as she touches Magnus’ shoulder and asks him if he would like a tour of the place.

Desperate to impress, he follows her around and listens attentively. The best part of this tour are the pictures of young Alexander with what must be his three siblings. 

Maryse looks at Magnus. “You know, I grew up with a single mother and a few siblings in a house not much bigger than this floor. And look where I am today,” While she makes it sound like an accomplishment she is proud of, she looks sad. She runs her finger along the picture of a little boy, sitting on the floor, reading a comic book. “I just wish the circumstances would have been a little different.” 

“You have a beautiful home and family, ma’am,” Magnus smiles.

“Please, call me Maryse,” She breathes out and stands tall again, and smiles back at him. “And thank you. Maybe one day, with hard work, you can have a place like this of your own.”

Magnus thinks of Edom, of their palace, their family mansion up in the mountains, their private beach resort, their many properties around the world but says, “That would be something.”

“Wouldn’t it?” Maryse’s smile is kind and genuine. He figures she means well. “Come, I’ll show you the bar.” 

Maryse explains his duties for the evening, which seem to boil down to keeping everyone’s glasses full. Ragnor walks around with a tray full of champagne glasses while trying to sneak himself a glass when he thinks no one is watching. 

Magnus fidgets with his black bowtie that’s part of the outfit and is glad he went with the topknot rather than the mohawk. He looks around the room and sees people he recognizes from the Rainbow Rally. 

He sees Valentine dancing with a woman who looks exactly like an older version of Clary. Clary and Jace are talking to that guy with glasses who played piano for little Madzie, who in turn has his arm around a beautiful girl with dark hair in a ponytail and a red dress. He recognizes her from the pictures and deduces that she must be Alec’s sister. Mentally he takes a note that he should try and talk to her tonight, as he has never seen her around The Max.

Andrew doesn’t seem to have much interest in anything other than trying to distract Magnus, hanging on a barstool. And Magnus likes the guy, but after several glasses of champagne literally everything that rolls out of his mouth is flirty and suggestive.

Luke walks up to him, looking very sharp. He has had them over for dinner several times now and they get along great. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight, I thought you had a night shift at the police station?” he says.

“No, not tonight. Can I have some champagne?” He leans on the other side of the bar and nods at Andrew. Magnus hands him a glass.

“So, you’re friends with the family?” Magnus asks.

Luke looks a bit flustered. “Eh, yeah. Yeah. Maryse and I are... Old friends.”

Magnus sees Maryse across the room sneaking glances at him and Luke and he snorts. 

“Sure you are. I think your old friend wants your attention,” he winks, as he hands Luke another glass of champagne. Magnus watches him walk over to her, hand her the glass, and they clink. They’re giving each other meaningful looks and soft smiles, and it’s the sweetest thing.

He gets rudely interrupted by Raj, who appears in front of him and nods a greeting and gestures something that Magnus interprets as I would like a glass of champagne, please. He hadn’t seen them come in. He lets his eyes dance across the room as he fills a glass and spots Alexander with his siblings and their partners.

He has his head thrown back in laughter while his brother is bent over clutching his stomach and Magnus feels the butterflies come to life again. He realizes he has never seen Alec look so young and carefree.

Raj audibly clears his throat, and says “As I was saying..” and Magnus has to force himself to pay attention. “I can appreciate how you handled that guy with the knife the other day. I would have helped you out myself except, well, I had a cup of coffee in my hands. You know?”

Of course he gets what Raj is saying and he wishes he could wipe that smug expression off his face. Instead, he forces a tight lipped smile and nods.

“I bet you learned all that by fighting lions and tigers in the jungle and shit,” Raj says, sipping champagne.

There are in fact no lions or tigers in Edom, but Magnus doesn’t want to put any effort into correcting him. He’ll just have to go with whatever this conversation is gonna throw at him. “Yes, where I’m from, we have to be quite aggressive sometimes.”

Raj puts his elbow on the bar and points at him. “I’m all for that,” he says. “Especially in a relationship. You know,” he turns his gaze to Alec, who is still talking animatedly to his siblings. “They may not admit it, but these quiet types, they all want their man to… Take charge. Tell ‘em what to do.” His expression is predatory as he throws back the rest of his champagne and walks away, taking a new drink with him. 

It makes Magnus feel very uncomfortable, but before he can do anything, Valentine and his wife Jocelyn walk up to him for a drink and start a conversation. They’re a nice couple who are impressed with his disarming of Jordan and ask all about how he’s liking New York so far.

Suddenly they’re joined by Maryse, who grabs on to Jocelyn and smiles brightly at Magnus. “Make sure everyone’s got their glass kept full, I have a very special announcement to make,” she says and speeds off again. 

Jocelyn shrugs at Magnus. “Well, in that case, don’t mind if I do!” she says as she holds out her empty flute for a refill.

Magnus spots Ragnor going around the room with a tray, and suddenly everyone is looking at Maryse. She stands up the few steps that lead into the dining area, so she can overlook the room. She has the biggest smile on her face, clutching a full glass of champagne. Everyone -even her children- look puzzled. 

“May I have everyone’s attention, please?” she lets her voice carry through the room easily and the chatter dies down. “Raj, please join me,” she says. He walks the three steps and stands next to her. Someone has turned the music down and it’s impossible to make out what song is playing.

“My dear friends and family. It’s wonderful to see you all this evening and I hope you all feel welcome in my home. But I have just heard some news that makes me the happiest woman in the world. And I cannot wait to share this with you!” she continues. “As you all know, Raj and Alec have been going together for quite some time. So I’m pleased to announce that just a few moments ago, Raj has popped the big question-” 

A chorus of oh! buzzes through the room. Magnus eyes are focused on Alec, whose demeanor has changed completely from mere minutes ago. He looks tense. 

“-and Alec has happily accepted!” Maryse holds out her glass in his direction. “So, as it turns out, this has become an engagement party!” 

Clary and Alexander’s sister cover their mouths with their hands immediately and their eyes have gone comically wide, while his brother has paled like someone punched him in the gut. And Alec looks absolutely fuming.

“To our grooms!” Maryse and Raj hold up their glasses and most of the guests say it back to them. 

Valentine Morgenstern, who is apparently terrible at reading body language, steps up to Alexander and pats him on the back. “Congratulations, man! I am so happy that you guys are finally tying the knot.” 

“Enough.” 

Alec doesn’t even look at Valentine and with his long legs he charges up the small steps in one go. He grabs Raj by the upper arm and grits something through his teeth and drags him out of the room through the dining area. 

The exchange has flipped the mood of the guests and everyone looks very uncomfortable. Someone decided to combat the awkward situation by turning up the music again.

He has got to find Alec. Magnus slips away from the bar, to the hallway and stops outside the door that leads into the kitchen. He stands still before turning the corner and he hears Alec’s voice, and decides to listen before making his presence known.

“Next time you and my mother get together to plan my life, I wish you’d let me in on it!” Alec barks out.

“But baby-” 

“Don’t touch me! You know what? There will never be a next time.” 

“But it’s our engagement party!” Raj says sweetly.

“No, it isn’t. We’re done. Get the fuck out of my life.” 

He hears the back door slam shut, and soft footsteps walking back to the dining area. 

After a few seconds Magnus peeks around the corner, glides through the kitchen and into the garden. He sees Alec sitting on a swing set, his long legs stretched out in front of him, surrounded by snow.

As he realizes he’s still holding on to a bottle of champagne, he walks up to him and offers it.

“No thanks, I’m really not in the mood to celebrate,” Alec says with a small voice.

“Who says you can only drink champagne to celebrate? It’s still alcohol,” Magnus suggests carefully.

Alec snorts and takes the bottle from him, and Magnus considers walking back inside to give him some space. “Wait,” Alec says, “Sit down. Keep me company. If you’d like.” 

Magnus smiles and walks to the other swing. He’s used to sitting with immaculate posture, which is hard on this thing that’s not a chair. Alec laughs at him.

“If we’re gonna be friends, you need to loosen up a bit,” he says.

“Oh, I can be loose,” Magnus slumps against the swing in the most exaggerated way. It gets him one of those lopsided smiles from Alexander, although it looks sadder than his usual. Despite that he says, “Much better.” 

He just wants to hold this man in his arms and tell him everything is going to be OK. “Are you alright?” is what Magnus asks instead.

Alec immediately sits up straighter and goes from sad to angry again. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. But I’m not going to let myself get pressured into marriage by Raj, or my mother, or anybody.”

Magnus thinks of his father and Camille. “I understand completely. Where I’m from, arranged marriages are very common. But I don’t think anyone should get married out of obligation.”

“You’re right! And how would I even consider marrying a guy like Raj. There’s a reason we never moved in together, you know.” He runs his hands that look red from the cold through his hair. “He just made me so furious back there. Guess this was just the push I needed to end things. I never should have let it get this far.” 

Magnus doesn’t know what to say. He’d love to hear everything he has to say about the topic, but now is not the time. So they sit, in a comfortable silence.

After a minute Alec softly asks, “Do you think I overreacted?”

Magnus considers his answer. “I think that someone’s first reaction is usually the correct one.”

A pair of watery hazel eyes stare at him. “You know, you’re very easy to talk to,” Alec whispers between them. “I feel like I could tell you anything.”

Magnus leans towards Alec and they stare at each other. It’s so cold, but he doesn’t care. He wants to drown in the swirling sea of browns, greens and blues that are this beautiful man’s eyes.

They are both startled when the kitchen door opens and Andrew leans out. “Oh, there you are. Hey Magnus, we need some more champagne over here,” he purrs.

“I’ll be right there.” Magnus rubs his hands over his arms. “I almost forgot I wasn’t here to party,” he smiles down at Alec apologetically and walks to the door, leaving Alec behind.

“Magnus?” he says just loud enough to hear. Magnus turns around. 

“Thank you for listening to me. I appreciate it.” 

“Any time, Alexander. Any time.” 

Just as he turns around, Alec calls for his attention again. Magnus wonders what’s left to say.

“Be careful. I think Underhill likes you,” he says with a faint smirk. Magnus raises both eyebrows and shrugs.

It’s not Andrew I'm interested in, he thinks, but doesn’t say it. 

---

A few weeks later and he can’t get Ragnor out of bed anymore. His phone is in his hands as per usual, so he must have fallen asleep calling or texting Cat again. He probably didn’t get much sleep at all.

“Ragnor, get up! We’ll be late for our shift,” he calls out. “I’ve been doing so well with Alexander and the rest of The Max, you can’t ruin this for me.”

Ragnor sits up straight on his pull-out sofa bed. “I am sick of this. I am sick of living like a peasant and I am sick of having like a twelve hour time difference from home. I miss my life back home and I miss having my favorite things!” 

Magnus isn’t impressed. “Are you done now? You’re sick of this and miss home? Fine, go do something fun for yourself, find something that reminds you of Edom. But you are going to volunteer your shift today!”

With a constant stream of complaints, Ragnor makes his way out of bed, takes a shower, and grabs an apple. “I’m so glad we only have one month left to go in this dump.” 

It feels like a slap in Magnus' face. Ragnor immediately seems to realize he shouldn’t have said that.

“I thought you understood. Forget it,” Magnus mumbles and barges out of the house.

---

His hurt over Ragnor’s comment and panic over having just one month left in New York fade as soon as Alexander walks up to him and asks him if he’d like to have coffee.

“I’d love that,” he says, as his heart does a little jump.

So they pick up a cup at Andrew’s, who looks a tiny bit jealous. It’s February now, and it’s a lovely cold but sunny day. They sit outside on a bench sipping their drinks.

Alec often talks about his relationship with Raj and how it has affected him. His very public engagement/break-up had an aftermath that kept hurting him over and over. Maryse had been very upset and insisted on several mediating sessions trying to get them back together. That angered Alec’s fiercely protective siblings and had led to a lot of shouting matches after closing time.

It turns out that Andrew hadn’t embellished any of his stories about Raj. Alec had indeed felt trapped and unhappy for years, not allowed to make any of his own decisions and feeling like his opinions didn’t matter.

“I think I stayed with him because people expected me to. You’ve seen my mom’s attempts at mending the relationship,” he starts and sighs. “You know what, I am so sorry. You must be tired of hearing about all my problems with Raj.”

Magnus touches his hand lightly. “No, not at all. It’s important to talk about these things. It sounds like you haven’t been talking at all for years.”

“Still, I feel like I owe you something to make up for it. How would you feel about dinner?” he asks, his cheeks turning pink. “I mean… I can invite Becky and Lydia too. And- Underhill, if you’d like?”

Magnus’ heart is beating out of his chest. “...Or we could have dinner together,” he says.

Alexander doesn't look at him. “You wouldn’t mind, just the two of us?”

“No. In fact, I’d love that.” Magnus smiles. To lighten the mood, he adds, “We can’t have dinner at my house, though. It’s very small and my roommate is Ragnor.” 

Alec laughs. “We can’t have dinner at my house either. My brother and sister have never heard of this concept called privacy,” he says with emphasis on the last word. “It’s OK though,” He hesitates. “We can go to a restaurant. It’ll be my treat, don’t worry. I’d love to take you out.” 

Magnus grins. “So, is that what it is? A date?” 

“If- If you’d like?” Alec looks at him with insecure eyes.

“Yeah. I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.” 

“Tonight?” 

“Tonight.”

And so they sit together with matching smiles, until they get called back in to work.

---

“Oh my God, Ragnor, you are not going to believe it! I’m going on a date ton-” he’s dumbfounded as he looks through the living room. He finds Ragnor sitting in a pile of shopping bags.

“What the hell happened here?” he demands.

“You told me I should do something nice for myself. Because I’m homesick.” Ragnor looks at him from the pull-out sofa like a dog that has been caught while destroying a pillow in the middle of the living room.

“But what is all this?!” he points at the bags of what may be every single luxury brand sold in New York.

“I bought myself some nice things. And then I saw some things that I thought would look great on you. And Cat,” Ragnor admits. “Actually, a lot of this is for her.”

Magnus is astonished. “So is there any cash left at all?” 

Ragnor grimaces. “Yeah, there’s like, about 2000 dollars left? But it’s OK. I have a plan.”

Magnus eyes widen. That’s definitely not OK, but he has about a month left before he has to face the music. “I could strangle you right now. And just so we’re clear, I am not fine with any of this.” He frowns. “But there’s nothing we can do now. And I don’t want to. I have a date to get ready for and I don’t want anything to mess my chances with Alexander.”

“Oh, I bought you this amazing waistcoat, it’s in a black bag somewhere-” Ragnor pipes up.

“No! I’m supposed to be a poor man!” Magnus huffs and storms into the bedroom. He looks at his wardrobe and selects his favorite shirt and his tightest pair of jeans. He puts effort into his hair and make up. 

Downstairs, the doorbell rings. He can’t let Alexander see his living room in its current state. One last look in the mirror and he knows it’ll have to do. He grabs the remaining 2000 dollars and stuffs it in a paper bag The Max café uses to put pastries to-go in.

“Clean this mess up, put the bags in the bedroom or something,” he points at Ragnor. “And don’t wait up for me!” he yells at Ragnor before closing the door behind him and rushing down the narrow stairs.

He opens the front door. As soon as Alec sees him, he smiles wide and his eyes shine. 

“Let’s go,” he says.

And Magnus feels the butterflies in his stomach multiplying once more.

Chapter 5: First dates, shared plates and motorcades

Magnus had never met anyone who made him open up so effortlessly, and he knew Alexander might feel the same. They stroll through the city as Alec walks them to the place he had in mind. “We’re almost there,” he says. 

Magnus sees a homeless couple with a dog, huddled together on the side of the road. He takes the pastry bag with 2000 dollars out of his winter coat and gives it to the woman. She smiles faintly. 

“What did you give them?” Alec asks curiously.

Magnus flourishes his hand nonchalantly. “Oh, just some change we had lying around.” And leaves it at that.

They stop in front of the place Alec had in mind. He looks a bit uncomfortable and starts rambling. “I know it’s nothing fancy, but, I really like this place and they have just about everything and the atmosphere is great, and I’ve been coming here since I was a teenager, I hope you don’t mind-” 

Magnus looks at the sign saying Taki’s Diner and doesn’t get why Alec looks so conflicted.

“It’s- I don’t want you to think I’m trying to get out of this for as little money as possible, or that you’re not worth a nicer restaurant, or-”

Magnus holds his finger in front of Alec’s lips. He feels his warm breath stutter and tries to not let that distract him. “Alexander, it’s fine. If you love this place, I’ll love it too.”

That seems to calm his nerves, because he walks forward and holds the door open for him. Most tables are filled and 50s music sounds from the jukebox. To Magnus, it looks just like a scene from a movie he’d never thought he would get to experience in real life. They pick a booth in the corner for themselves, and Magnus lets Alec order for him. 

It turns out to be a bit of everything: fries, pizza, nachos. There’s bottomless sodas and Magnus knows he’s going to miss everything about this back in Edom.

Alec apologizes again for talking about Raj so often. He tells him it’s OK, but that Alec is obviously not. 

Alec plays with a french fry. “So, I’ve never told you -or anyone- the full story. And before you say I don’t have to… I know. But I want to. Just let me talk.” 

Magnus closes his mouth again, because he was about to assure him he didn’t have to. He grabs his diet cherry cola and swirls it around the massive cup. “Whatever you want to tell me, I will listen,” he smiles. Alec flushes.

“So, this is a difficult story for me to tell. And it still hurts like hell,” he clears his throat. 

“So, during my last year of high school I accidentally came out to my family over Christmas break. We always went to this fancy resort to ski and that year I met a guy my age. Before him I did know I was gay, I told Becky at 13 that I thought I liked guys. But since I never had a real crush before I still told myself that I maybe wasn’t. That I just hadn’t met the right girl yet.”

“But I met this guy from Colorado and I was blown away. He was out and proud and immediately took interest in me, and it was amazing. Izzy noticed right away that we were more than friends, and she lied to our parents for me when we wanted to sneak off to make out. It was great until a few days later when my dad walked in on us. And looking back, it was pretty innocent - all clothes were on and we never went any further than kissing. I was 17 and so inexperienced, having a guy interested in me like that was more than enough.”

“So my dad finds us. He kicks the guy out and I’m grounded for the rest of the trip so I could think about what I did and what I wanted to do with my life. My mom brought me food and sat with me sometimes. I wasn’t allowed to see my siblings.” Alec swallows thickly.

“Anyway, during the trip home you could cut the tension with a knife. And the proverbial bomb just exploded as soon as we came home and closed the front door. My baby brother Max was 6 at the time, Izzy and Jace were like 14 or 15. Basically it was everyone versus my dad. Max started crying and I took him to his room and we cried together. Poor kid had no idea what was going on, they had told him I got sick during our skiing trip.” he runs his hand over his face.

“Apparently my mom and Izzy had figured out I was gay years before and they were just waiting for me to feel comfortable enough to tell them. But my dad… He hadn’t realized and refused to accept it. He kicked me out after Max fell asleep. I disappeared for a few days and it was the worst thing I had ever gone through at the time. When I showed up at Becky’s after those few days on the streets, I found out my mom chose me and my parents were getting a divorce. And soon my dad moved to Los Angeles.”

He pauses and takes a sip of his drink. His other hand is on the table and not wanting to interrupt but still showing his support, Magnus squeezes it. Alec flashes him a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, but doesn’t pull back his hand.

“So my dad moves to LA. He gets visitation during the holidays. Not for me obviously, he made it clear he didn’t want me as his son anymore. Jace and Izzy were old enough to refuse to go see him. Max didn’t have a choice because he was still so young. I think he felt guilty about going to see him, like he was betraying us, even though we told him we understood.”

“Despite my parents’ divorce, my last half year of high school was actually pretty great. I decided to not give a fuck and be out. Becky and I have been friends since kindergarten and came out to each other at 13 and just stayed in the closet together. So my coming out gave her the courage to do so too. Her mom Elaine, she was so accepting of her, and me. We were the only out kids in our year, but we had each other. We went to prom together. It was amazing,” he smiles faintly.

“So, fast forward. My dad had spent years planning my career for me, and I had already gotten into Harvard on a scholarship. Since I didn’t know what I wanted, I went to business school anyway and graduated early with honors. I got myself a good job at an accountancy firm, owned by Raj's family. Raj was one of my seniors. I knew he liked me, but I wasn’t interested. Life was pretty good at the time. Jace and Izzy got into NYU, and Max was gonna turn 13 that summer. He told me he didn’t want to spend the entire summer with dad in LA, he wanted to hang out with us because he was big enough now and-” 

His voice breaks. He takes a few deep breaths and forces the tears back. Magnus keeps stroking his hand on the table in what he hopes are soothing circles.

“We told him that dad had already made plans for this summer, and that next year we would arrange for him to spend a part of the summer with us. He was OK with that. So he went. And two weeks before his 13th birthday… He and my dad got in a car crash and-” 

A lone tear runs across his cheek now and he has a tight grip on Magnus’ hand now. With his other hand he rubs his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. He breathes out and looks back up, getting himself under control again.

“Sorry about that. They were both gone on impact. I don’t remember a lot from the weeks after that. I know I spent a lot of it in bed. I don’t remember the funeral. All I remember is that the day I tried to go back to work I was so fed up with everything, I quit on the spot. After that, Raj started pursuing me, I guess. And I don’t even remember saying yes to him? It just kind of happened. It’s pathetic, I know,” he chuckles.

His laugh is laced with self-deprecation and he avoids looking Magnus in the eye. 

“I have felt this... guilt for years. If I wouldn’t have been gay, my parents wouldn’t have gotten a divorce and my brother would still be alive,” his voice sounds raspy.

“Hey, you know that’s not true,” Magnus says softly. “You went through something traumatic. That changes people. It’s OK.” He caresses Alec’s knuckles. “Besides, you’ve been doing really well in taking back charge of your own life again.” 

“I guess I have been.” Alec gives him a watery smile. 

There’s a soothing silence for a bit where they stare at their joined hands.

“You know, it feels better than I thought, telling someone. Telling you. It feels… Freeing.” 

“Thank you for telling me.” Trying to lighten the mood a bit, Magnus raises his glass. “To freedom.” 

He looks up to Magnus through his long lashes and smiles. Magnus’ heart sings. Before either of them can say anything, they’re startled by loud knocking on the window. It’s the homeless couple from before, and they’re waving and yelling thank yous, before walking off again.

Apparently the interruption was exactly what Alexander needed. He laughs with an astonished expression. “You have the most amazing effect on people!” 

Magnus shrugs, uncharacteristically shy. “No, I really don’t,” he says.

“You do! I mean, look at what just happened. And that guy at the basketball game? People love you.” Alexander stares at him, with those intense hazel eyes of his. Magnus feels his layers of armor being stripped away.

“I bet where you’re from, people just... Throw themselves at your feet,” he says, not breaking eye contact.

Magnus feels his heart beating in his throat and knows he shouldn’t answer, but his curiosity wins out. “What makes you say that?”

“Because you have this inner glow. Like you’re above everything mundane. It’s almost…” he pauses to think. “Regal?” 

Magnus barks out an awkward laugh and doesn’t respond. If Alec only knew.

“So what did you do back in Edom?” Alec asks.

“Asides from research,” Magnus thinks for a bit and settles with something close to the truth. “I was in the family business.”

Alexander cocks his head a little. “And what’s what?” he asks, genuinely interested.

Magnus raises his eyebrows and takes a big gulp of his drink to buy himself some time. Well, apparently 'close enough to the truth' is going out the window again. He decides to go with the most common profession in Edom. “Eh, goat herding.”

Alexander chuckles and looks surprised. “Really?”

“Yes! Does this surprise you?” Magnus asks. He realizes he’s testing Alexander a little, to see if anything would change if his family business wasn’t exactly glamorous.

“I don’t mean to offend in any way but it’s just...” Alec pauses. “You seem so educated, so proper, so... Distinguished? I guess I didn’t expect that from someone who looks after goats all day.” 

Magnus can’t look directly at him while the white lies flow out of his mouth. “Well, the goats really do take care of themselves most of the time, which leaves a man with a lot of time to read.” 

Alexander seems to believe him, and in the back of his mind he feels Ragnor giving him a face that says I told you so. But the soft look Alec gives him makes him shake the feeling.

Should he tell this wonderful man that he’s been a prince all this time?

Taki’s has cleared out for the most part by now, and the lighting is softer. Someone has been going through Elvis’ greatest hits on the jukebox for the last 15 minutes. Before Magnus can blurt out his secrets, a server walks by and brings their bill in a leather booklet. 

Magnus moves his hand towards it, but before he can, Alexander moves his hand over it and slides it towards himself. “Please, let me. Don’t worry about it.” 

“I don’t want to take advantage of you, Alexander,” Magnus says, meaning it in more ways than Alec could know. 

“You’re not,” Alexander says, with a determined expression. “I knew you weren’t well off when I asked you out on a date. I don’t care about money. I care about you.”

And in that moment Magnus knows for sure that this beautiful, honest man is everything he was looking for. As if on cue Can’t Help Falling in Love With You starts playing. Magnus takes a deep breath as he slides out of the booth, stands up and extends his hand. “Care to dance?”

Alexander looks wildly unsure, but places his hand in his anyway. Magnus walks him over to the small, empty dance floor in front of the jukebox. 

Magnus turns to face him and runs his hands up his chest, to end up resting over his shoulders. Alec’s breath hitches, and he tentatively places his hands on Magnus’ hips. Together they softly sway to the music, cheeks resting against each other.

“I’ve never danced with another man before,” Alexander’s breathy whisper tickles his ear.

Magnus pulls back to look him in the eyes. “Are you OK?”

“Yeah,” Alec’s eyes flick from his eyes to his lips, back to his eyes. “I think so.” 

Magnus feels himself drowning in those hazel eyes, and before he knows it, their lips touch. Once, twice. He rests their foreheads together and feels Alec’s arms moving around his waist to pull him closer, and he lets him all too willingly.

He closes his eyes and feels his heart explode and knees buckle as their lips meet again. Just as he thinks his brain is catching up to what’s happening, he feels Alec’s teeth passionately grazing his lower lip. And who is Magnus to deny him anything? As their kiss deepens he gets lost, and never wants to find his way back.

---

Magnus is ready to go, waiting around Alec’s office while he’s typing up one last email. He’s standing in front of a wall that holds, among his diplomas and children’s drawings, a lot of photos of people and places. Most of the pictures are older, and they make him smile. 

He recognizes a picture with his siblings he saw at Maryse’s house, where Max was still with them. Alec and Andrew at a concert. Young Alec with his siblings and Becky, Simon and Clary at a theme park. Alec with Madzie, who is holding up an ice cream cone that’s way too big for such a little girl. 17-year-old Alec and Becky with matching corsages at what must have been their senior prom.

One picture in particular makes him coo. Alec looks up, probably wondering what is going on, and smiles when he sees what Magnus is looking at. It’s a picture of him with Becky and Lydia on their wedding day. The brides are both wearing dresses and Magnus isn’t surprised to see that Alec looks stunning in a tux. They look like they can’t contain their smiles because of how happy they are.

“You mentioned you’ve been best friends with Becky since you were kids, but how did you meet Lydia?” Magnus asks. 

Alexander laughs and runs a hand through his messy brown hair. “Lydia is my best friend from college. We met during our first class and we just hit it off. She lived with her grandparents in Florida before Harvard, so I asked her if she wanted to spend some time in New York during summer. She did, and of course my mom had to throw a party for me surviving freshman year, and Becky and her family were invited…” he pauses with a smile on his face. “So I introduced them and I swear I literally saw sparks flying. Two years later Lydia proposed and the summer after that, they got married.”

“That’s beautiful,” Magnus says softly. 

“I know,” Alec flashes him one of his lopsided smiles. “I’m so happy for them. It’s the kind of fairy tale romance most people can only dream of,” he adds quietly, looking at Magnus.

They smile shyly at each other and look away. Magnus wonders if Alec feels what he feels as he stares at his shoes, feeling like a teenager.

The sound of high heels walking down the hall comes closer, and Maryse walks into Alec’s office holding a large bouquet. 

“Alec, can I talk to you for a bit?” she says. 

Her tone of voice makes it clear it wasn’t so much a question as it was a request for Magnus to leave the room. So he puts back the wedding picture, smiles at Alec and says, “I’ll be waiting for you in the lobby. Nice to see you again, Maryse,” he smiles, despite not getting much of an acknowledgement. 

As he walks down the hallway, he hears Alec asking her what she wants. And he doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he can’t say he feels bad about it either, so waits at a distance where he can  just overhear their conversation.

“Just look at these!” he hears Maryse say. “And they smell great too. Raj must be spending a fortune on all of those flowers.” 

“And you are free to put them in your office along with the other ones, I still don’t care,” Alec says calmly.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

“To a museum,” Alec’s deep voice travels easily, even though his tone is softer now. “With Magnus.”

Maryse must be making a face, because next thing he hears him say is a mildly irritated “What?”

“You’ve said it yourself, Alec, he’s a goat herder!” 

“So what if he is? If I’m OK with that, you should be too. He’s a good, honest man, who obviously knows the value of hard work.” 

He hears Maryse’s heels click on the tiles. “Why don’t you just make up with Raj? He dresses real nice, and his family is doing well for themselves,” her tone, despite the message, is kind.

“Mom, not this again.” 

“I just don’t want you to struggle the way I had to, growing up,” she says, quiet and vulnerable. 

“I’ll be fine, mom. Don’t worry about me.” Magnus hears him give her a kiss, followed by footsteps.

Magnus drapes himself across the wall casually, fidgeting with the chipping polish on the nails of his left hand. 

“Hey,” Alec says softly as he stops in front of him. He puts his hand on his upper arm and kisses his cheek. Magnus' stomach swoops like he’s on a rollercoaster. “Let’s go.” 

Magnus follows him out of The Max. After Alec’s story, he noticed something he hadn’t thought about before. And since he’s not going to bring up that he overheard the conversation with his mom, he might as well ask. He fixes his scarf as the cold air hits him and says, “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but the center, is it named after your brother?” 

“Yes, it is. Don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but there are these Batman comics, framed up on the wall in the lobby?” Alec asks.

“As a matter of fact, I have noticed those before,” Magnus says. Every time he walks past them, he feels as if they’re judging him for telling people his last name is Bane.

“They were Max’s, he loved comic books in general. When he was a kid he had his own superhero identity - The Max,” Alec recounts, with a broad smile on his face. “We all went along with it, he was so cute. Anyway, after the divorce my mom needed a new project in her life, so she took over a community center. And after he passed away, she did rename it. I think it was Izzy’s idea.”

Magnus smiles. “Whoever it was, it was a great idea.”

They take the subway to the museum. As they walk the last bit, the back of his hand brushes Alec’s and he wants nothing more than to hold his hand. Instead he asks, “So what museum have you picked out for us?” 

Alexander’s cheeks turn a little pink and he looks at the trees they’re passing. “I picked this one place that currently has a large exhibit on island nations in the Asia-Pacific.”

Magnus cocks his head, because he feels like that’s not all he wanted to say.

“I mean, it’s where you’re from, and I want to learn more about it,” he says, wringing his hands together like he’s nervous.

Magnus melts a little, it makes him feel brave enough to grab his hand. Alec blushes and grins down at him like he’s been given something amazing.

The exhibit is impressive. They walk through Polynesia and Micronesia, and Magnus loves it. He’s never been to any of these islands, but he has met some of their presidents and monarchs during official state visits to Edom. He tells Alec stories as if he wasn’t part of the formalities, or as if he’s learned about them by reading.

They stroll past Indonesia when he feels Alec tugging on his hand. “Look, Edom! 

Magnus smiles and looks at the ceremonial garb up on mannequins. There’s also vases, and decorative plates, and several ornate staffs used for their traditional martial arts style he knows so well. It’s weird to see these things that are so normal to him put up in a display.

“Tell me everything, what’s it like?” he asks, and Magnus is charmed by the genuine interest in his voice.

“Oh, you would love it there. It’s the most beautiful place on earth. The people are so friendly,” he looks at Alec. “And you? They would treat you like a king,” he adds cheekily.

Alec scrunches his nose and gives him a soft chuckle. They walk another few steps, before Magnus sees three familiar faces on the wall staring back at him. He suddenly feels nauseous and he feels sweat breaking out of every pore. It’s an official portrait of the royal family of Edom. His father is standing in the lavishly decorated room that exists for the sole purpose of taking these kinds of pictures in. His mother is on his right arm, and Magnus is standing on his left.

He’s sure that this particular photo is almost ten years old, but he has barely changed. And even if he’s wearing an extravagant tunic and his hair looks different, it’s unmistakably him.

Magnus drags Alec around the corner and kisses him passionately. 

Alec breaks it off after a few seconds. “Magnus, people are gonna see us-”

“Let them see,” Magnus says and kisses him again. “What do you say we get out of here?”

Alec looks confused, “Now?”

“Yes,” Magnus stresses, “Now.” 

---

Alec seemed surprised by the sudden change of plans, but went with it anyway. They ended up at a small burger place he loved, and Magnus insisted on trying Alec’s favorite. He had to admit, it was pretty good. A few beers later and pleasantly buzzed Alec insisted on walking Magnus home.

“Well, here we are.” Alec says, looking at their intertwined hands.

Magnus considers his options for a bit. He doesn’t want to take things to the next level yet, but he also isn’t ready for this date to be over. “Do you want to come up?” he asks hesitantly.

Alec’s eyes widen, his expression hesitant.

“No, no!” Magnus says, “Not like that. Just a drink. Remember, I live with Ragnor.” 

“Yeah, OK.” Alec releases a relieved breath. “Yeah, I’d like that.” 

Magnus smiles at him and walks up to the front door and opens it, and walks ahead of Alec up the narrow staircase.

“I’ll have to apologize for the mess, it’s not a very big place. And Ragnor has been extra grumpy lately because he’s homesick and-” he stops, noticing a note stuck to his front door.

It’s from Ragnor. Saying his parents are here. And they have taken him to their royal suite at the Waldorf Astoria. 

Magnus pulls the note from the door, crumples it up and sticks it in his pocket. He swallows thickly. What is he gonna do?

“Magnus? What’s wrong?” Alec asks, standing right behind him.

“Nothing, it’s just…” he turns around to face him. “There has been an incident? With the- the plumbing? We’re- we’re not allowed to go inside.” 

“Oh, well, we can go to my place,” Alec says. “I don’t live far, if you don’t mind my siblings.”

“That’s perfect, I’d love to.” Magnus smiles faintly, his heart beating fast in panic. He gives Alec a peck on his lips, and they walk down. 

He needs to get Alec home, and without coming across as blunt, say good night. And then he needs to get to the Waldorf Astoria as soon as possible before his father causes damage beyond repair. A thousand thoughts run through his mind and he doesn’t know what to say, which seems to worry Alec.

“Are you OK Magnus? I can help you out with fixing the apartment if that's what has gotten you this quiet.”

“I’m fine, it’ll be fine,” he tries to assure him. “So, your siblings will be home? What’s it like living with them?” 

And Alec talks. Magnus forces himself to pay some attention, but he can’t. Why are his parents here? How did they find Cat’s apartment? He still has time, they can’t tear him away from his normal life yet. More panic washes over him and he blinks fast to stop the tears. He gets ripped from his thoughts when Alec speaks.

“We’re here,” he smiles. Magnus smiles back and walks through the door. Magnus lets Alec take his coat and they walk into the living room.

“Mom?!” Alec sounds very surprised.

“Alec!” she waltzes over to him and rubs his arms. “And Magnus! So good to see you, my boy,” she says, as she embraces him. 

Magnus is glad Alec doesn’t think he’s rude for thinking this is weird, because their eyes meet over her shoulder with the same bewildered expression. 

“What are you doing here, mom?” Alexander asks.

“What? Do I need an excuse to visit my wonderful son and his new beau?” she smiles broadly. “I have to make a quick phone call though. Now don’t you go anywhere. Make us a cup of tea, so we can catch up!” 

She steps out and closes the door behind her. Alec still looks confused but walks towards the kitchen anyway. Magnus follows him.

“What was that all about?” he asks. 

Alec fills the kettle up under the tap. “I have absolutely no idea.” 

“Especially since this afternoon she tried to talk you into making up with your ex instead of going out with-” Magnus jolts, realizing he shouldn’t have overheard that conversation. 

A pained rather than offended expression crosses Alec’s face. “You heard that?” he asks.

“I apologize, I know I shouldn’t have.” Magnus apologizes. He checks his watch, he really should get to Ragnor as soon as possible.

Alec puts the kettle on and leans against the kitchen counter. “No, it’s OK. My mother was out of line, she is the one that should apologize.”

They hear a door open and close in the living room, and Alec turns to walk back in, so Magnus follows him. It’s Maryse, who greets them with open arms again, gesturing them towards the L-shaped couch. 

“I’m so sorry, but I really have to get going, Maryse,” Magnus says.

Maryse dismisses his comment with a flourish. “Nonsense, you can stay for a cup of tea, right?”

So they sit next to each other, awkwardly, like two teens instead of the late twenty-somethings they are. Maryse sits with them, looking ecstatic. “How was the museum, boys?”

“It was very nice, mom,” Alec says, a bit awkward.

“And did you go out for dinner?” she continues.

“Yes, we went for a burger?” Magnus isn’t sure why Alec makes it sound like a question, but he’s certainly not comfortable answering anything right now.

“Alec! You should treat your man better!” Maryse says exasperatedly. “Why don’t you make reservations at the River Café?” 

“I-” Alec opens and closes his mouth like a confused fish. 

Something beeps in the kitchen and Maryse jumps up. “Don’t you go anywhere, I’ll be right back, with tea!” 

Alec lets out a breath and turns to Magnus. “I have no idea what’s going on,” he whispers loudly, eyes wide.

Magnus decides he has to take the opportunity. “Me neither, darling. But I must leave.” 

“Is something wrong? Is it because of my mother? Because I’m so sorry about that,” Alec asks.

“I promise I will tell you when the time is right, but right now, I have to go, I’m sorry. Please excuse my leaving to your mother.” He gives Alec a chaste kiss on the lips and lingers a little, running his fingers along his strong jawline, wondering if it’s the last time he’ll be able to do that.

With a weak smile he rushes out the door before Maryse comes back.

---

Magnus sprints towards the main road as soon as he’s on the street. While the weather had been nice during the day, a steady drizzle now comes down from the sky. He hails a cab to the Waldorf Astoria. As they drive up to the hotel he notices that the flag of Edom is flying alongside the American one and his heart rate picks up even more - his father really is here. He pays the driver and doesn’t wait for change.

He barges through the hotel and wonders how he hasn’t been stopped yet looking the way he does when he sees himself in the elevator mirror. Ill fitting clothes, sweaty and his hair is a mess because of the rain. If his father sees him like this he’ll never let him out of his sight again for the rest of his life, he thinks.

He knocks on the door and holds his breath. When it opens, he’s face to face with Ragnor. Ragnor looks relieved and wraps him in a hug. “Oh thank god you’re here. Don’t worry, your parents are out.” 

“How did this happen?” Magnus hisses. He walks into the suite and closes the door.

Ragnor looks at him sheepishly. “After I went on that shopping spree and spent all our cash, I may have sent a request for 1 million dollar…?” 

"You did what?!" Magnus pinches the bridge of his nose. “I could strangle you right now but that won’t get us any further.” He paces for a bit. 

“Magnus, no offense but you’re a mess, your father will strangle you if he sees you like this. Go fix yourself up before they get back. I’ll find you some appropriate attire.” Ragnor points towards the bathroom.

After a quick shower he jumps into a much more traditional combo of an embroidered purple tunic and slacks. He grabs his eyeliner and applies it in a subtle fashion. Ragnor helps him attach crown-like jewelry to his top knot. 

Magnus stops to think. “Wait, you said my parents were out. Where did they go?” he asks.

Ragnor pulls back his hands immediately. “They, eh…”

“What?” 

“Well, they, they-” Ragnor sputters.

“Spit it out!” Magnus bites, now worried about what he’ll say.

“They went to Alexander’s place, the one that he shares with his siblings,” Ragnor admits.

“What?! Why would they do that?” Magnus yells.

“Because Maryse called them, saying they could find you there.” Ragnor looks guilty, but Magnus is back in panic mode.

“We have to go!” he says, running out of the bathroom. “We have to go right now.” 

Ragnor knows better than to go against him, because he’s right on his heels and they grab their coats and they’re back on their way to Alexander’s place in Brooklyn.

---

It doesn’t take them as long as Magnus feared it would. They storm out of the taxi running towards the right apartment. In the distance he sees a man walking that reminds him of Alec but with slouched shoulders, but other than that guy, the streets are surprisingly empty.

They find their way up and on their way through the hallway, they’re greeted with the sounds of a fairly heated argument.

“Asmodeus! Apologize to Ms Trueblood!” an exasperated voice that sounds like his mother is audible through the door. Magnus stops while his hand is already on the doorknob, and looks at Ragnor with a question in his eyes. Ragnor looks equally unsure of what’s going on.

“I will do no such thing!” his father’s voice booms. “This woman is beneath me and so is her son.” 

“Well, I don’t give a damn who you are!” Maryse says loudly, in the harshest tone Magnus has ever heard her use, “But if you say one more word about my son I will personally kick your royal ass out of this apartment! There isn’t enough money in the world to buy my son off!”

“Nonsense” Asmodeus scoffs, like it’s the most ridiculous statement he’s ever heard. Ragnor nods that this would be a good time to enter the room.

They step into the living room and are greeted with looks of surprise, their argument forgotten. Queen Raniya lets out a sigh of relief and rushes to Magnus at once.

She cups his face and looks at him. “Are you alright, my boy?” 

“Yes, mother, I’m fine,” he chokes out while she kisses his forehead, after which she smothers him in a hug. He has missed his mother more than he realized, and relaxes in her arms.

After she releases him, Magnus looks around the crowded living room. Isabelle is holding onto Maryse’s arms, as if she’s trying to physically restrain her mother from launching herself at his father. She’s looking at Magnus with an expression that’s both hurt and awed, while Maryse tries to look composed but seems ready to combust.

She’s facing his father, who looks every bit the untouchable King of Edom he is. Magnus can read the disdain on his face, he doesn’t like standing in this peasant’s house one bit. He is surrounded by servants who look very uncomfortable, and Raphael is half a step in front of him and looks ready to break up a fist fight.

Raniya still holds on to his hands, and he feels Ragnor’s hand on his shoulder as he realizes that one person in particular is missing.

“Where is Alexander?” he asks.

“Your daddy here just drove him off!” Maryse spits out, eyes shooting daggers at Asmodeus.

Magnus fears the answer to what he’s about to ask next. He takes his hands from his mother and walks over to face his father.

“What did you say to him?”

“That is none of your business. We shall return to Edom at once,” Asmodeus says coldly.

“I will not leave without Alexander. I need to talk to him,” Magnus says, stubborn, determined to not let his father win their staring contest. He will refuse to break this time.

After a moment, his mother softly breaks the silence. “So you do care for him?”

A smile creeps on to Magnus’ face, just thinking of the man that stole his heart without even trying. He breaks eye contact with his father to look at his mother. “Yes. Mama… I think I love him.” 

Queen Raniya walks up to him and places her hands on his shoulders. “Then go after him,” she says with a soft smile.

Magnus returns her smile, thankful for his mother’s blessing.

“Magnus! I forbid it!” Asmodeus barks, while gripping his son’s upper arm.

Raniya slaps his hand away. “Oh, shut it, Asmodeus, our boy is in love,” she says, rolling her eyes. 

Magnus doesn’t know where his mother’s sudden support comes from and has never heard her go against his father, but he has no time to think about that right now. He is grateful for the distraction she provided and sprints out of the house. He realizes that the slumped figure he saw walking away coming up to the house must have been Alexander, so he runs in that direction. He can’t be far.

He spots Alexander as he’s about to walk down the stairs leading into a subway station. He calls out his name, but if he hears him, he’s choosing to ignore him. 

So he runs after him down the stairs, into the station, through the gates and down another flight of stairs that lead to the platforms. He keeps calling his name, and Alec keeps walking.

Magnus spots him making a sharp turn to the right and slipping into a waiting subway train as he’s a few steps away from the platform. The doors are about to close but he’ll be damned if he loses Alexander like this. So he forces the train doors open and squeezes into the train. 

The doors close behind him and he’s met with annoyed glares from fellow passengers.

He spots Alexander walking down the train, so he goes after him, mumbling excuses to people he passes. 

When he sees Alexander still, because he can’t walk any further, he stops at a distance.

“Alexander, please,” he begs.

Finally Alec turns around to face him, straightens his shoulders to make himself look as tall as he can be and steps towards him. Magnus is afraid he might punch him in the face - and if he does, he wouldn’t blame him. He probably deserves it.

Alexander doesn’t punch him, but his beautiful eyes are on fire as he pushes something towards Magnus. “When exactly were you planning on telling me?” he sounds as upset as hurt.

Magnus scrambles to look at what he shoved at him and his heart is pounding. It’s a crumpled up 100 Edom rupiah bill and he doesn’t know what to say.

Alexander found out he’s a prince because his face is on a banknote.

“I never meant to hurt you,” is the weak excuse he manages to articulate.

“Well, at least I solved the mystery of who sent me that Rolex!” Alec snaps. “You know, I never wanted any of that.” His fists are trembling by his side. “And I don’t want you.”

Magnus feels the eyes of their fellow passengers burning on his back. He wishes there was a better place to discuss this, but he’s going to have to roll with the punches. He needs to make Alexander understand why he did what he did.

“Alexander,” he begs. 

Alec raises his voice, “Look, just leave me alone!”

Magnus refuses to give up. “Alexander, please!” he swallows thickly. “I love you.” 

“Then what about the woman you’re going to marry?” he bites.

Fuck. Magnus lets out a pained laugh. “She’s someone my father arranged for me to marry, I don’t love her! Why do you think I came to America?”

“Your father told me,” Alec says darkly, “To sow your royal oats. To have some casual fun while you still can.”

“Oh no, Alexander,” Magnus says, “I came to America to lead a normal life for the first time. And then I found you. I- I’ve never felt this way about someone before.”

“So why did you lie to me? Why didn’t you tell me you were a -” Alec seems to have trouble forcing out the word. “A prince.” 

“Because I wanted you to love me for who I am,” Magnus feels tears welling up in his eyes. 

“I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

“I’m still the same person I’ve been all this time,” Magnus says desperately, “Should it matter that I’m a prince?”

A look of guilt flashes across Alec’s face as he looks down to his shoes. “It shouldn’t, but I -”

“Then tell me you didn’t care for me when you thought I was a goat herder,” Magnus interrupts, “And I promise I’ll never bother you again.” 

Alexander sighs deep as he rolls his eyes, but stays silent. Magnus is afraid to speak.

“It just wouldn’t work out,” he starts after a moment, “We’re too different. I am a burned out accountant who works at a Brooklyn community center and you’re royalty, for God’s sake!”

Magnus doesn’t want to hear any of those kinds of arguments. “Do you want me to renounce my throne? Because I will. If you’ll give me another chance, I swear to the Gods, I will.” 

Alec stands with his arms crossed, looking torn.

Magnus feels like he has nothing left to lose, so he spreads out his arms, and starts loudly, “From this moment on, I will no longer be the pri-” before Alec interrupts him.

“Magnus, no. I can’t let you do that. That’s not fair to you or your country.” 

“I do not care about my crown, I care about you,” he takes a step towards Alec and goes for broke. He knows they’ve only just met, but he wants to be with this man, forever. 

“Marry me, Alexander?” 

Alexander’s eyes widen and he gasps softly. He doesn’t answer.

“Go on pretty boy, take a chance!” a random passenger yells, followed by cheers of encouragement from others. 

Magnus feels sick.

The train rolls into the next station.

“Look, I’m sorry, but I can’t,” Alexander says hoarsely. “Goodbye, Magnus.” 

He barges out of the wagon and leaves Magnus behind. He wants to go after him again, but he can’t. His legs won’t move and he can’t breathe.

And Alexander disappears from his view as the doors close and the train comes into motion again.

---

His mother won’t speak to his father anymore, after the latter was unwilling to compromise on anything. Now they’re leaving. Magnus and Ragnor share one of the cars of the motorcade that takes the royal family back to the airport. 

“I’m so sorry, my friend,” Ragnor says softly.

Magnus can only choke out another silent sob in response.

Chapter 6: The End

The royal temple is decorated with the traditional wedding colors of Edom. Blue drapes and banners and fresh flowers brighten up the place, and Magnus feels miserable. He’s wearing a blue batik shirt with a high collar and heavy gold embrodings. His pants are solid navy and his feet are bare - this is a temple, after all.

His topknot is pulled together so tight that it hurts his scalp, but it has to, because his hair can’t look out of place in any of his wedding photos.

He feels empty. Crushed. He thought he felt empty during the courtship ritual, but that was nothing. The same important people are probably seated in the temple. It must look like a joyous occasion for them.

Asmodeus and Raniya are seated in thrones on the side of the dais. His parents started speaking to each other again two days after they came back from New York. Now they are holding hands on their shared armrest while they look pleased and proud of him.

It only makes him feel more heartbroken.

The sound of soft gamelan music that slowly swells indicates that the wedding ceremony is about to begin. He looks at the priestess, who gestures that he should turn around now.

And so he does. He faces the crowd and sees the bridal dancers with their big feathery fans covering Camille. The first two dancers hold sticks, and they sternly tap the end on the floor to signal the others. They take calm, confident steps to the rhythm of the music as they begin to move their fans. 

The first two move away, to dance ahead of the bridal party. 

Magnus closes his eyes.

When he opens them, two more dancers have moved away from the bride. 

He breathes. He can do this.

The party stops in front of the dais Magnus stands on. 

Who is he kidding, he can’t do this! He wishes he could run away. He doesn’t, because he knows he won’t get far and will only make a fool out of himself and bring international shame to his family.

The dancers shake their fans, so that the bells attached to them chime, a sign that they have reached the end of the aisle. A gong sounds, and one by one the dancers remove their fan to reveal his bride.

Magnus can’t deal with the idea of being eye to eye with Camille, seeing her smug expression, knowing she got her way. But he knows he can’t look away. He squares his shoulders and prepares himself as layer by layer gets peeled away to reveal…

“Alexander?” he whispers.

He turns around and looks at his parents wide eyed to get some kind of confirmation. His father has a private smile on his face and his mother nods with gleaming eyes. Maryse and Luke have joined them without Magnus realizing, and they stand next to his parents’ throne with big smiles on their faces.

So he looks back to Alec, who stands at the foot of the dais, in the same traditional dress as Magnus - except his heavy golden embroidery is set on cream colored batik instead of blue. He shrugs with a shy smile that’s a bit goofy and crooked and genuine and just so him.

So Magnus does the only logical thing he could do in this situation.

He rushes down the dais, grabs him by the front of his shirt and pulls him in for a kiss that is in no way appropriate for a traditional temple ceremony. Alec doesn’t seem to care either, because he kisses him back just as fiercely.

Someone clears their throat loudly over the buzzing of the guests. Magnus pulls back and then they’re just smiling at each other. He feels like his heart might explode 

 “Your Highness,” Raphael says, “Better save that part for after the ceremony.” 

Magnus nods at him with a grin he can’t wipe off his face anymore. He lets out a short breath and pulls himself together. He hops back on the dais to resume his position and holds out his hand for his groom to take.

Alec slides his hand into his, and stands next to him. They step forward and kneel.

The high priestess starts chanting the ancient words, to which the other priests and priestesses chant their reply. And Magnus feels like he’s on top of the world.

---

After the ceremony they’re guided out of the temple back into the bright sun, to an open carriage drawn by four white horses. The people of Edom City are waving flags and cheering for them as they’re being taken back to the palace.

They never stop holding each other’s hand, as they wave to the crowds with their other hand.

Alexander looks a bit overwhelmed, as he leans into Magnus. 

“Would you really have given all of this up, just for me?” he asks, his voice full of wonder.

“Of course!” Magnus responds, “We could still give it all up now, if you’d prefer.”

Alexander looks at him pensively. His hazel eyes sparkle as much as the golden thread in his shirt and Magnus falls in love all over again. A smile breaks his thoughtful expression.

“Nah,” he says. “I’m good. Besides, you already promised me they’d treat me like a king here,” he adds, grinning mischievously. 

“As they should,” Magnus says, lifting up their joined hands to kiss Alexander’s knuckles.

They’re quiet for a bit.

“What did we just do?” Alexander breathes out as they ride through the palace gates.

“I think we just got married,” Magnus says, still wondering if this is a dream he’ll eventually have to wake up from. “And you’re the prince consort of Edom now.”

Alexander slowly shakes his head with an incredulous expression on his face.

“I’m sorry for how I reacted on the subway,” Alec says, still clutching Magnus’ hand.

“I’m sorry for lying by omission about being a prince,” Magnus apologizes in return.

The carriage comes to a smooth halt. They have a few moments before they’re expected to make a grand entrance at their own party, and they plan to take this moment together.

Shouldn’t they have talked this through before getting married? Alec swallows thickly as he rests his forehead against Magnus’ and holds on to his hands even tighter. As if he heard Magnus’ thoughts, he speaks. “For some reason I’ve never been so certain of anything in my life,” he whispers.

“Me neither,” Magnus says as he caresses his cheek with his thumb. He leans forward, and kisses his husband softly.

“Come on you guys, you’ll have time for all of that later!” Lydia calls out from the doorway, where she’s standing with Becky and Andrew. “Besides, half of New York is in here getting impatient. They want to congratulate the happy couple!”

Magnus barks out a laugh and looks at their faces.

“What?” Alec grins, “Did you seriously think Jace and Izzy and the rest would miss my wedding?”

“Well then, let’s go,” he replies. “We have to start the rest of our lives together with the biggest party Edom has ever seen.” 

Alec’s smile is brighter than the sun, and Magnus just knows he has found his happily ever after.

[setaripendragon]

Ursakoda Soulmates - Part 4

This part of the series is kind of short, and really just extremely self-indulgent.

For all that Ursa was the one to instigate leaving the celebrations, she doesn’t actually want the night to end. She doesn’t want to face the uncertainty of what comes next, doesn’t want to face the reality she knows is waiting beyond the bubble they’ve wrapped themselves in, so instead of heading directly for home, she takes the longer, meandering path, and if Hakoda notices, he doesn’t complain. Instead, they talk about lighter things, silly stories – of which Hakoda has a lot – and fond memories.

Finally, she can’t draw it out any longer, and they come to halt on the front step of the little old cottage that’s been Ursa’s home for the last couple of years. Uncertainty fills the air between them and steals their words, and they just stand there, looking at each other, for longer than Ursa would care to think about. “When are you leaving?” Ursa forces herself to ask.

Hakoda grimaces, but doesn’t flinch from the unpleasant topic now that she’s raised it. “Our plan is to leave tomorrow, on the first good tide.” He tells her, which doesn’t surprise Ursa, although it does make her heart sink. She feels a little better when Hakoda reaches out and catches her hands in his. “I could probably get away with extending our stay a little longer, though…” He offers hesitantly.

Ursa thinks about it, but in the end, she has to shake her head. Hakoda looks disappointed, but like he understands. “Postponing it won’t make it any easier.” Ursa says anyway, and he nods. “Besides, you shouldn’t let me keep you from your duty.” Hakoda nods his understanding of that, too.

“Maybe once the war is over…” Hakoda begins, like he wants to believe what he’s saying.

Ursa quirks a wry smile. It’s a lovely dream; the world at peace and full of new beginnings for everyone, and a chance for the two of them to figure out how they might fit together. But the war’s been raging for the last hundred years, and it’s showing absolutely no signs of slowing down any time soon. And even if, by some miracle, it didn’t last much longer, there was still every chance that it would kill one or both of them before the end. “Maybe.” Ursa agrees anyway, because it is a nice thought.

Then she kisses him, because she doesn’t want to talk about this anymore, and with the future so uncertain, she’s not going to pass up the opportunity to kiss him while she still can. So she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him until they’re both breathless and dizzy with it. And then she lets him go and makes herself turn away and walk inside, because postponing it won’t make it any easier.

Neither of them says goodbye, though.

Ursa stands in her small living room and listens to Hakoda’s retreating footsteps in something of a daze. When she can no longer hear him, she closes her eyes, and tries to ignore the fact that she can still feel the ghost of his kisses on her lips. Even that isn’t enough to banish the sense that’s stealing over her that this is all just a dream. She’s spent so long avoiding getting too close to people, keeping them at arms length out of fear of them discovering her secrets, that suddenly having a soulmate seems like it has to be a fantasy. Never mind one like Hakoda.

She smiles, despite herself, thinking of him. The thing that’s struck her most is how easy he is, how confident. He’s the Chief of his Tribe – Chief of all the Southern Tribes, if Ursa’s been reading the clan symbols and the flow of power among the Water Tribe men right – but you wouldn’t know it from the way he acts. Only, that’s not true, Ursa decides, shaking her head at herself as she heads into her bedroom. You would know. You do know. It’s just that none of it stops him from acknowledging that he’s human, that he’s one of them. He goofs about and makes stupid jokes and dances and sings just for fun.

She remembers, back in the early days of her marriage, when she still thought the world of her husband, that she treasured the moments that Ozai would unbend enough to share a joke with her, a little moment of indignity. It had made her feel special. Honoured, to be trusted enough to witness such vulnerability.

It’s better, she thinks, when it’s a thing to be shared. When humanity isn’t a thing to be ashamed of.

The thought lingers as she climbs into bed, and though she tries to sleep, mostly she just tosses and turns, turning memories and moments from the evening over in her mind. She naps in little hour-long snatches, full of dreams of that night, and flashes of golden-touched fingers, and strange twists of panic that send her waking with a jolt.

When grey dawn light is seeping in through her window, she gives up, flings off the heavy rabbit-goose down quilt and rises, glaring at nothing in particular. There’s some nebulous, terrified fury roiling in her chest, and she teeters on the edge of turning it into resolve, second-guessing herself every step of the way. The last time she made a decision to act, rather than to react, it shattered her world, and she’s afraid she might do yet more harm if she tries again.

I’m so tired of being afraid.

The thought comes to her almost as if it belongs to someone else, but she can’t deny the truth of it even for a second. It’s a strangely distant revelation, that for all that she wouldn’t say she did nothing, in the last five years, she hasn’t managed to build anything that she would regret leaving behind, nor has she done anything that she’s significantly proud of. While she wouldn’t quite call the time wasted, it still feels… hollow, to stand on this precipice and realise that she has not one reason not to jump.

Spurred into motion, she marches over to the battered little chest of drawers that holds most of her personal possessions, and begins to pack. She has moved around enough in the last five years that it’s not hard to whittle her things down to the most essential, but she hesitates over her clothes.

This… feels oddly momentous. Always, before, she’s taken the most inconspicuous clothes, the greens and pale yellows, the dresses and long skirts that make her look exactly like every other poor Earth Kingdom woman. But this time… she takes the loose brown trousers, and the long-sleeved beige shirts, and the short dark grey-green dress with the open front and the brown-green one with the splits up the sides. It’s nothing at all like the pinks and reds of home, but then, she’s not that woman anymore. It’s… somewhere in between, and it feels right.

The last thing to fix is her hair. Five years, it’s been the same simple, practical bun at her nape favoured by the lower class Earth Kingdom, but it’s always been a disguise. Instead, she pulls the top half of her hair back and… a topknot would be too much a give away, even though the lack still sends a little pang through her, so instead she braids it, and leaves the rest down. It’s strange, to feel the fall of it over the back of her neck and shoulders, but she feels more herself than she has done in over ten years as she writes a note for Gen and Biyu, shoulders her pack, and leaves her entire life – what little there is of it – behind.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #ATLA #Ursa #Hakoda #Ursakoda #Soulmates AU #soulmate identifying marks #hakoda/ursa #hakoda x ursa

[nemossubmarine]

Warhammer 40k: Wrath & Glory RP #45

Even though it’s late, pretty soon after Vivek and Saef have left, Gimlet makes his way to the AdMech ship docked in the hangar of Santa Maria. Donning his Inquisition badge, he asks to see the tech priest, and is granted an audience. Gimlet requests to be handed over the belongings of the servitor. The tech-priest is difficult as always, he points out that several of the belongings are standard AdMech gear, so there’s no point in handing those over. What does Gimlet want to with stuff like clothes anyway? Gimlet says he wants to see how the servitor would react, and this seems to cause some leering from Z47r, who points out that servitors don’t react. Gimlet shrugs. In the end, most of the stuff has been either discarded or recycled, so Gimlet manages to get some of Vivek’s clothes, a bunny he looted from Wes’ corpse (back in Elysium campaign) and his phone (in pieces).

Gorm meanwhile has returned to his room where he finds Uffe looking somewhat distraught. Uffe asks for Gorm’s council, and recounts that his and Vivek’s conversation didn’t go too well. Indeed, Uffe is quite certain after meeting Vivek’s brother that he had heard Vivek talking on the phone with him before, back when Uffe had that little wolfing out incident. Uffe confronted Vivek about it, and Vivek categorically denied it but Uffe knows he is lying to him, so the talk devolved into a row. Gorm thinks this makes very little sense, as this doesn’t add up with Vivek’s past behavior. He suggests getting Vivek into the room, and see if they can figure this out for themselves. Uffe agrees, though reluctantly. (at some point the two talk about what’s going to happen after, and Uffe kind of implies he has thought he isn’t going to make it through the hunt alive).

Gorm goes to Saef’s room to get Vivek. Saef opens the door (expecting a pizza) and says he’s not sure if Vivek is up for talking, but he’ll ask. Vivek comes to the door, clearly having just finished crying, but says he’s ok with figuring this out. Gorm comments that the talk with Gimlet seemed to have gone well, and Vivek tells Gorm about them having asked about purging Triplex Phall. They get back to Gorm’s room, where Vivek sits down opposite Uffe. Gorm asks him about the situation and Vivek reiterates that he has no idea about any phone call. Vivek asks if he has at any point done anything that would harm Uffe at all, and Gorm has to concede that he has not. Uffe gets a bit angry (for the reason that he is quite scared), asking if Gorm thinks he is lying. Gorm reprimands him for his behavior and asks him not to snap at other people. Uffe points out that he knows Vivek is lying and Vivek gives Gorm a desperate side glance (because he is lying about Uffe wounding him). Gorm says that the only way to get to the bottom of this is to look through Vivek’s phone records, so he’ll have to pop by the tech priest to see if he can get his hands on it. Vivek and Uffe should go to eat pizza at Saef’s place. Vivek says they’ll be there, but he has one more thing to say to Uffe. What that is, no one will know. 

Gorm runs into Gimlet right outside the AdMech ship and asks what he’s up to. Upon learning that Gimlet has Vivek’s phone, Gorm takes him aside and explains the situation. Gimlet absolutely refuses to look into Vivek’s phone information, so he hands the bits to Gorm, who points out he doesn’t have the technical know-how to get information out of bits of phone. So they go ask Vivek if it’s okay, and Vivek says sure. So they go do that and Gimlet pulls out all the information he can from the phone, but no phone call has been made. 

Before returning to the others, Gorm and Gimlet (mostly Gorm) decide it’s time to turn this depressing pizza party into an actual party, and they go to the bar to order some drinks and then to the tax free to get some party paraphernalia (and strippers (apparently Paul the Tax-Free guy is a part-time stripper)), including party hats, glasses, a boombox with some space Kesha music. On this party’s invitation list are Tabasco and Cayenne, all the Sable Swords (Carl and Stuart show up), Molly the engineer,  and Jennifer (some of the Sable Swords watch over Laurel). So with this party bus in tow, they return to Saef’s room. Gorm lets Uffe know the results, and then shushes his “I don’t understand”s with a tankard of mead.

Party time means party games, so a game of “Never have I ever” is called upon. Saef asks about people having their memories tampered with and then grimaces (the Space Marines, Vivek, Gimlet and Theo drink). Here’s some interesting things that are called “crushes on doctors” (Gimlet, Tabasco, Molly and Gorm drink), “crushes on Space Marines” (Gimlet, Tabasco, Vivek drink), “whether one regrets joining their current faction” (Theo, Saef, Vivek and Gimlet drink), “whether one has had night training” (what’s night training? -Stuart, “ask Gimlet” - Gorm (it’s sex)) (Molly, Jennifer, Tabasco, Cayenne, Vivek and Saef drink), “whether one has overheard night training” (Molly, Saef, Vivek and Carl (apparently he was sleeping in a tent next door to some Imperial Guard) drink). Uffe asks “never have I ever made a bet of how many cookies I can stuff in my mouth and lost”, which makes Vivek complain that that was told in confidence. Vivek drinks, as does Saef, and Vivek gives Saef a hug for it.

After “Never have I ever” Gimlet suggests some truth of dare. First up Gimlet dares Carl to call the person he admires the most. Carl says that person is dead and Gorm calls for a toast to Revan. Gimlet clarifies that a person who is alive will have to do, so Carl calls Gorm and explains (somewhat drunkenly) that he really thinks Gorm has been exemplary in his behavior considering the situation he has wound up in. The thing goes around, and here’s some of the things I remember: Stuart asks Vivek about how many cookies it was anyway. Apparently 5½. Vivek asks Gorm if Space Marines truly can’t have relationships outside their squads, and Gorm says that obviously there’s differences, but he personally thinks there’s nothing wrong with having a special relationship with someone.

Saef dares Uffe to kiss the person he would like to kiss the most. Uffe wants clarification, so Saef clarifies he can’t kiss his brother, and he should probably use tongue, which he then downgrades to whatever Uffe is comfortable with when Gorm points out that that’s not nice (especially if someone hasn’t kissed anyone before). Uffe turns to Vivek and lets him know he can back out of it, and Vivek just says that it’s okay, so Uffe touches foreheads with Vivek and brushes their noses together.

Gorm dares Tabasco to go sit next to the person he likes the most in the room, so Tabasco goes to sit between Gorm and Gimlet. Tabasco asks if Saef has his vaccines in order, which he does not (Tabasco will give them to him in the morning). Later Saef asks if Gimlet is in a relationship and Gimlet says yes (which is apparently new information to Cayenne). Gimlet dares Uffe to take a sexy pic of himself and send it to his crush. Uffe says his phone doesn’t take pictures, so Gorm says he can help and they go to the bathroom, where Uffe admits he has little idea what sexy entails. Gorm suggests he take off his chestplate and blow a kiss to the camera, which Uffe is very uncomfortable with, so he ends up just flexing for the camera. Gorm asks who to send it to, and then just sends it to Vivek. Uffe asks Gorm about an incident with Ivar and some alleged “ork kill-stealing” (totally happened, because Ivar is just too slow).

Gorm calls for a bonus round of questions everyone has to answer. First question is only slightly heretical, namely which chaos god would everyone follow if they really had to? Tabasco says that he’d follow Nurgle, for his life-giving abilities, Theo says same. Molly goes with Slaneesh for obvious reasons. Jennifer goes with Khorne. Cayenne says Tzeentch. Stuart says he’d have to go with Slaneesh because Noise Marines are pretty cool. Carl and Uffe both go Khorne. Vivek says Tzeentch, Saef Slaneesh (and Stuart dubs himself, Molly and Saef the Slaneesh team). Gimlet says Tzeentch and Gorm goes with Khorne as well.

Gimlet also has a bonus question, namely what people had seen they’d like to forget. It starts off as depressing as one might say with Theo saying he’d like to forget the image of his gang leader being decapitated. Molly goes noticeably less dark and mentions having walked in on her parents doing some night training once. Jennifer says she wishes to forget the faces of her kids when she had to tell them about their father’s death (Gorm cries a bit). Tabasco and Cayenne both mention family members taken by the Tyranids. Stuart says half eaten child. Carl gets teary telling about corpses of a family they found in a collapsed building, and Gorm goes to hug him. Uffe says he wishes to forget what his brother Harald had become. Vivek tells a story about being 14 at the factory and having one of his brother’s friend getting caught in the machines of the factory (apparently it took few days to get all the bits out). Saef’s thing he wishes to erase is finding the bodies of his gang, Gimlet’s is obviously Limestow. Gorm says he wishes he didn’t go last, because he doesn’t have such a depressing answer, namely Uffe’s former haircut, even before the topknot, which was apparently just the worst.

Suddenly there’s a knock on the door and it’s the police! Stuart scrambles to hide the booze while Molly goes to open the door. It’s the strippers and they’re here to arrest everyone for partying too much and being just too damn sexy. Molly has bunch of bills and no one is sure why she had them prepared and Saef dives for his wallet as well. 

Gimlet and Tabasco slip off at some point to go somewhere more private (namely the bar, though apparently one of the strippers was the barkeep so it is truly empty). Gorm was planning on getting the Space Marines of the group together but he notices that at some point Uffe and Vivek have disappeared as well (presumably together), so he asks Carl if they could go talk somewhere and they return to the Sable Swords ship. Saef drunk-texts Demir, lets the party continue and at some point just goes to bed, while in the background Sable Sword Stuart is doing a keg-stand.

Gorm and Carl go to the Sable Sword ship’s medbay to have a little conversation. Gorm lets Carl know that he would like to visit him on Obsidia and he would like Carl to visit Fenris, and Carl seems pleased to have such a relationship. He has one last gift for Gorm, but is a bit hesitant to give it, saying that he totally understands if Gorm can’t accept it. The gift is a device, known among the Space Wolves as Claw of Morkai, made to extract the progenial glands of the Space Marines. Carl says that Gorm’s talk of possibly doing a mistake with Snorri made him think, that perhaps there will be losses in the coming hunt as well, but with this Gorm could at least bring his brothers home in one form or another. Obviously the procedure is a difficult one, and there’s no guarantee that Gorm would be able to perform it, but trying wouldn’t hurt. Gorm says he can see why Carl was hesitant to give something so valuable and important. He’ll have to ask what Fenris thinks of the gift, but for now he takes it gladly. Carl shows Gorm how the device works. 

They talk a little bit more about Gorm’s future. Gorm explains how he feels it might be difficult for him to return to the normal in Fenris straight away, and though he’d love to fight alongside Carl and his Sable Swords, it would be difficult to arrange, and he would be an outsider. There is a place however where Astartes may work together, namely the Deathwatch. Carl comments that that would mean Gorm having to work under Inquisition, which the Wolves are famously not fans of. Gorm says it’s the Ordo Hereticus they mostly have problems with. Besides this would be a chance to perhaps keep an eye out on the career of an Inquisitive friend, namely Gimlet. And, perhaps there would be a chance for Gorm and Carl to work together as well? Carl says he hopes Gorm isn’t planning on joining the Deathwatch for those reasons, and Gorm says of course not, he genuinely thinks Deathwatch might be a good suit for him, and those two would just be bonuses. Carl says it is not uncommon for Sable Swords to serve in Deathwatch, what with their acumen for fighting Tyranids. Revan in fact served for a mission, so Carl obviously would follow his former leader’s footstep if asked, and working with Gorm would obviously nice. Carl isn’t quite sure what will happen to his squad after they return to Obsidia. Perhaps if the Emperor wills it, Gorm’s and Carl’s paths will go alongside for a while. They talk about leaders, and how Revan’s influence is still very much with Carl, and perhaps some of Rolf’s is still with Gorm even though he wasn’t working under him for quite so long. Gorm says he used to think Rolf was a great leader, and Carl thinks perhaps he still was, chaos makes mockery of all the intentions of mice and men after all. One isn’t born a great leader, one grows into it, and Rolf never quite had the chance to grow. Somehow the talk turns to Stuart dancing the night away at the party, and Gorm suggests perhaps Astartes might be better off dancing a bit more. So the two have a little dance (while Gorm sings sagas of Ragnar Blackmane as accompaniment). Gorm stays and sleeps in the Sable Swords’ ship.

In the night Saef has a dream where he meets up with Ahram, his Ahram, sitting on a rock looking at the vast expanse of space. Saef sits down opposite him and Ahram greets him. Saef asks why he was sent away from the gang. Ahram apparently knew that Kane Bullard was after potential psykers and had figured Saef as one (because Ahram looked like a man who worked for Bullard, he got some stuff figured out), so he asumed sending Saef away might save both him and the gang. Nope. Ahram notes that he is technically younger than Saef, so his mistake may be forgiven, hopefully. Saef doesn’t seem to hold any grudge, he just wanted to know. Ahram is sorry for the situation Saef is in, but at least he made it, and Saef says he often wished he didn’t make it. But now he’s got this life and time to figure out what to do with it. They reminiscence the night away. (also talk about Rat, but we forgot, so will be added later) Saef wakes up to find Sable Sword Stuart passed out on the floor, so he throws a blanket on him.

In the morning Gorm calls Sveleighr on Fenris. He explains the gift he got from Carl and asks what he should do about it. Sveleighr says that indeed it looks like Gorm has quite taken a mantle of the Wolf Priest already, so that would be the next logical step it seems. Sveleighr says he’s gotten multiple reports on Gorm’s conduct, both in terms of spiritual guidance and medical acumen. Gorm says that he has indeed been trying to get better at those both. He still isn’t sure why the necklace was given to him, other than Fenris thinking he was not strong-willed enough. Sveleighr asks what if Gorm takes the Claw of Morkai and uses it and fails, either with the medical procedure or with recognizing that the seed is far too corrupt to be returned. There is after all a difference between a mistake and a failure. Gorm says the medical procedure not working he could live with, but taking corrupt gene-seed would be a great failure indeed. Sveleighr says that he believes this last hunt will challenge Gorm’s both medical and spiritual skills, and it is indeed time for him to walk the walk of the Wolf Priest, and he instructs Gorm to paint his armors black. Gorm thanks Sveleighr and disappears off to do just that.

In the morning Saef goes to visit Konstantine who is just about to leave. Konstantine congratulates him on passing the test and asks Saef how it was, and Saef admits he thought it would be harder. Konstantine asks what Saef would like to do now he’s Imperial Guard, and Saef says he’d hope eventually to end up as a teacher, he just rather not join Inquisition for it. Konstantine is sure Saef can make it. Konstantine also wanted to discuss Rat with Saef, namely that if Saef doesn’t mention anything about Rat’s existence, Konstantine will neither. Konstantine feels he has failed Rat, but there isn’t really a place for her. Konstantine thinks she would be better off with her people (she might not want it). The only place that might take her is the Ordo Xenos, but that would have to be a non-scummy Inquisitor and even then Rat would be working against her own people. Saef says he’ll try to figure things out with the little time he has. Konstantine tells Saef he can always call, if he needs Inquisition-adjacent help. With that he is off.

In the morning after getting some breakfast, Gimlet goes to knock on Saef’s door. Theo answers and Gimlet asks for the “strange little man”. Vivek comes to the door and Gimlet asks if they could talk in his room. Which they do. Gimlet wants to know what to do with the whole Vivek being Inquisition evidence situation. What was Vivek planning on doing after all this anyway? Vivek shrugs and says he was planning on getting his friends off Triplex Phall, hopefully figure the life eater virus situation, finding safe places for his friends and then getting as far away from them as possible to keep them safe. Truthfully he has not thought about Gimlet’s situation much, like obviously Inquisition wouldn’t want Gimlet to let Vivek go, and that is something Vivek can’t help with, unless Gimlet wants to shoot him in the head, which Vivek rather he didn’t. Vivek recommends maybe asking someone else for help, because Vivek, as a literal prisoner, is in no position to help Gimlet. Not sure who would help, he definitely doesn’t want to get the Wolves in trouble (and neither does Gimlet). Gimlet laments that the odds don’t look to be too good for either of them, and Vivek agrees that there is indeed a lot of trouble ahead. Gimlet apologizes for telling Vivek about the whole purging of Triplex Phall, and Vivek says it was good, just means he and Eden were right in thinking Inquisition can’t have Eden. Gimlet still thinks it’s a bit fucked up that they could talk about it so casually. That’s Inquisition Vivek says. Gimlet asks if Vivek still wants to talk with his brother, and Vivek says yes, but that would probably spell more trouble for Gimlet in the future, so Gimlet might want not to do that. Gimlet tends to agree.

Saef returns to his room and begins to clean the rest of the party away when there’s a knock on the door. It’s Uffe who has come to retrieve his chest plate. And while he’s here, he wanted to point out that Saef kind of told him he doesn’t do mind magic, but now he has done it twice. Saef admits that yeah, maybe he wasn’t thinking too straight in the party. It is a new power, and he didn’t think it through. Uffe asks about the other time, and Saef said he was maybe a bit panicked at the moment. About Uffe killing Vivek? Uffe asks. Saef says yeah. Uffe thanks Saef for assistance with Vivek, but says that he’d like it if Saef would ask about that kind of stuff first. Saef agrees. Saef asks if he may use it on Uffe on the up-coming mission, and Uffe says only if it’s really, really important. Saef explains why he is coming along to the mission, namely finding Rat and Uffe offers help with dealing with Inpax, which Saef is sure Gimlet has got covered. Saef also says Uffe his old hair wasn’t that bad in his opinion, too bad about losing it, Uffe says thanks, better losing hair than losing a brother. Then he takes his armor and off he goes.

Gorm comes back to his room after finishing painting his armors (they’re left to dry in the other room). Uffe is there, and he wants to apologize for his behavior the day before, he got his fears got the better of him. Gorm doesn’t think there’s anything to apologize for, understandably it felt real to Uffe. Uffe admits that it is very rough right now, not being able to trust himself, and he can’t exactly live his life leaning on Gorm and Vivek. Gorm thinks that Uffe shouldn’t beat himself up over having to rely on others. It is a good thing to cultivate relationships. Gorm says he’s always thought Uffe as a loner but the more they’ve spent time together, the more he has started to see similarities between the two of them, both needing other people, forging bonds. Uffe says that Gorm appears to be much better at it than Uffe, but Gorm points out that not very many Space Wolves would bond with an AdMech. They discuss Vivek’s rather difficult situation for the moment, Uffe is not happy that Vivek has been forced on the run. Gorm says that though Wolves are very keen on head-on conflicts, there is not shame in retreat. In fact Gorm has read of something called a Tactical Retreat, fancied by the Primarch of Ultramarines. No shame in positioning oneself better for survival.

Uffe admits that he has a lot reservations about Triplex Phall, lot of blanks he doesn’t probably want filled. He just has this persistent feeling that something bad is going to happen. Vivek has been helping him out with mapping the blanks of his memory, and there’s a lot more missing than he had realized, around the time he left the others (after having killed Rolf). He mentions that Vivek recognized the ship he left in as an AdMech ship, so obviously AdMechs were around when he left. Gorm asks if he contacted Fenris, and Uffe says yes. Gorm asks if they should ask Fenris what kind of information he gave them originally, and Uffe agrees to it. They decide Gorm should get the information, just in case it’s bad. 

Gorm says that he has something to show Uffe that might take his mind off the current situation. Gorm takes Uffe to the room where he has been painting his armor, and Uffe congratulates him on his path, telling Gorm that he is proud of him. Gorm mentions his wishes to possibly join the Deathwatch, and asks what Uffe might do in the future, perhaps Deathwatch might suit him as well. Uffe says he hasn’t considered, as he hasn’t expecting to make it this far. Gorm asks him to consider, to keep his mind off all the bad things he seems to be so keen to think about. Uffe agrees that he’ll give it a go.

Uffe notes that Gorm seemed to be rather close with the Sable Swords sergeant, Carl at the party. Gorm says it was mead but yes he is close to Carl, there is certainly something special between them, that he really can’t put into exact words (and Uffe doesn’t think he needs to). Uffe says that he was kind of against these kinds of relationships for a while, as he deemed Harald’s fate to be the fault of Rolf, because of the closeness of their relationship. But he has changed his mind about that, and thinks good things may come out of being close to people. Besides it would be rather hypocritical of him to think that they are bad now. Gorm asks if he means him and Vivek, and Uffe admits that yes, there is something very similar there to Harald and Rolf and possibly Gorm and Carl. He feels no need to define it any further than Vivek being very important to him. Gorm says that Uffe is very important and dear to him, and that he loves him, and Uffe says he loves Gorm too.

Gorm also makes a phonecall.

Gorm goes to find Vivek in Saef’s room. He asks to talk in private, so Vivek shoos Theo away. Gorm mentions about thinking that Uffe might also be carrying the life eater virus, and that would probably need to be tested. And for that, Eden might be needed. So how are Vivek and Eden right now anyway? Vivek shrugs and says that Gimlet telling about the possible purging of Triplex Phall only justified his and Eden’s decision to merge, and that Eden can’t survive, but doesn’t mean Vivek is very happy about it. They’re not in much communication, currently. Vivek notes that there are some good stuff in his head too, that might be useful to hand out if they can find a person to give it to. Vivek has the ability to completely purge Eden from his mind, and the other part too, but right now since they can’t reach the other half, he is holding back. But yes, Vivek can do the test with the help from Tabasco. Vivek asks how much they can trust the doctor, whether it’s wise to let him see the results. Gorm says that he doesn’t know the doctor very well, certainly Gimlet trusts him (since boyfriends). Doesn’t mean he would maybe get the whole life eater virus thing, so perhaps better not to tell. Gorm asks Vivek to come to him with the results first.

Vivek comes back with bad news few hours later. Gorm was right, Uffe has it. Obviously this has really big rammifications for the relationships between the Space Wolves and the Mechanicus and Vivek is quite distraught, though understanding. Gorm is sure that Fenris is not going to go all Inquisition on the planet. Vivek also brings up his brother, and says that he thinks his brother might agree in putting something inside his own body, he would never agree to do the same to an Astartes, as that goes against the core beliefs of the Mechanicus (and all the bad things he’s done has been to prisoners). But if he is involved, obviously he needs to get his comeuppance. They discuss whether to tell Uffe about this, and Gorm asks Vivek’s opinion. Vivek thinks they should, namely the things Vivek hasn’t told had been about things Uffe would beat himself over and there is no reason this would be Uffe’s fault. Besides if something happens to both Vivek and Gorm, Uffe needs to know so he doesn’t put Fenris or any other planet at risk. Gorm agrees to this assessment so Vivek goes to break the news, while Gorm calls Fenris. Fenris is understandably angry, but also agrees that this has to dealt with discretion, since whoever did this clearly has few screws loose and access to means of mass destruction and that is the last thing anyone wants.

Vivek has been gone for a while, but as he catches Saef in the room they chat a bit. Vivek mentions that he is pretty sure he told Saef not to get caught with the army. Well, can’t be helped. Vivek says he would have helped Saef desert, but probably not the best idea at the moment to hang with him. Saef is rather resigned to his fate, but Vivek says he is allowed to feel frustrated about it. And he does. Vivek says he would change places with Saef in a heartbeat, but hey army is not for everyone. Saef’s going to do fine, still. (and Vivek hopes Saef knows he loves him, and Saef loves Vivek back)

Vivek asks about Saef’s family and how they are, and Saef mentions that things with family are still awkward. Vivek has three people who Saef and his family might help, three AdMech friends of his; Agda, her partner Max and Agda’s son Zeki. They’re decent people, not criminals. Agda apparently started the whole factory riot that got Eden’s skitarii arrested because Zeki got caught in unsafe machines and almost died (without Eden’s help). There is of course the problem of Eden being the only one willing to help renew Zeki’s cybernetics when he grows, but if that issue is somehow cleared with could Saef’s parents help rehome the three to Civitas A? Saef thinks so. Saef brings up Rat, the problem of her and Theo’s future, and in fact tells Vivek about her eldar parentage. Vivek admits that being a problem, but is sure they can manage something, they may need help (maybe not from the Wolves…).

Vivek asks Saef’s opinion of Eden at the moment, and Saef says that obviously he’s in debt to Eden, but doesn’t agree to everything he’s done. Vivek laments that he totally gets why Eden did why he did, which is why he doesn’t feel entirely justified in his anger, but yeah, he hasn’t decided Eden’s fate yet. His usefulness will be weighed against Vivek’s AdMech friends and all of Triplex Phall, and Vivek is not sure how that’s going to break down just yet. Saef says he’ll support Vivek no matter what, and Vivek says he shouldn’t if he makes a dumb choice. Vivek also asks Saef about his opinion of Gimlet, and Saef says that he doesn’t agree to some things Gimlet has done, but Saef’s the kind of guy that doesn’t let single actions change his opinion and Gimlet is still a friend. Vivek admits having difficulty reading Gimlet, but seems to think he is sincere in not wanting to screw Vivek over (despite it being so much easier for Gimlet), for whatever reason. Saef mentions having drunk-texted Demir, and Vivek hopes it’s not dick-pics (not that there’s anything wrong with that per se). Just strippers, says Saef (better?). Vivek asks if there’s anything there and Saef says they’ve only met once, and besides it doesn’t look like a good time for a long relationship. Vivek says that it’s important to find joy in small moments, and not do stuff just because they might not last. But that’s just his opinion. 

#nemo roleplays #wag rp #wag rp writeup #holy long writeup batman! #gorm's secret stuff will be added later maybe? :P #had to take the whole vivek convo out bc one thing #but that's how it is #anyway very nice that our heroes decided to party #i always feel like too much of a solemn gm anyway :P #so some levity is nice #and people being and feeling loved as well #this rp's theme is that caring for other people is good y'all #excited for last campaign #also kinda stressed cos rly want to bring in my a-game #me *hassles everyone to talk to uffe more bc i like playing him* #also me oh no im probably playing him all wronk!! #rly need to think something uffe wants to talk with gimlet about #everyone could always use more big wolf-y friends #campaign tag: some nurgle but mostly soap opera

[zutaraangtastic]

I have a prompt idea! This idea fits into more of an Aged up Zukataang headcanon. Drunk!Katara preferably interacting with both Zuko and Aang. On the Fluffy side. I think it would be amusing and cute.

hi! if you're still doing prompts, may I offer "little spoon zuko" ?

Combined these two prompts, accidentally went overboard and wrote more like a whole fic than a drabble! (Can be read without context, but for the best experience, read as a missing scene from ch. 10 of Heartlines by kuchi/Mod K.) - Mod J

There’s always been casual touch between them and Zuko: Katara’s instinctive hand holding, borne of navigating her village with her family during fierce white-out blizzards; Aang’s penchant for hugging him like a panda on a tree, which became all the more comically ridiculous when he outgrew Zuko. 

But it had taken Zuko time to adjust to those habits, even when they meant only friendship. Katara knows to expect some hesitation, now that they’re adding another layer of love to their actions. They’ve agreed to take this slow, ease into the newness of being able to show their full affection.

It’s a good thing, too, because he seems almost overwhelmed just by this, sitting with them in the near-dark as they take turns playing with his hair, leaning into his shoulder, kissing him. 

When Katara breaks their latest, lingering kiss and looks up at Zuko, his pupils are wide, shaken, though she’s already lost track of how many times she’s done this. How many times Aang has. They’ve been in too good a mood for any lingering nerves to interfere. With Zuko’s enthusiastic—if stumbling—assent, it’s hard not to kiss him, and hard not to do more.

Talk has dwindled, but they’ve been here for hours and said all they possibly could. About their feelings, about their future, about everything. It’s a relief to finally let loose after the whirlwind the past few months have been.

The sweet palm wine helps, leaving Katara pleasantly fuzzy-headed. She’s come to suspect Aang doesn’t mind the secondhand taste of it on her tongue, or Zuko’s, nearly as much as he pretends. And she doesn’t mind watching them, feeling the bloom of nervous warmth in her gut, almost like the old eagerness of first-time teenage exploration with Aang.

The lantern’s firelight blurs a fraction when she tilts her head, gaining sharpness only in the twin reflections between Zuko’s and Aang’s eyes, which flicker open as Aang pulls back to let Zuko catch his breath. Katara notices the subtle tell of Zuko about to flip the script, the stubborn squint a moment before he takes the back of Aang’s neck and yanks him in, harder this time. Aang makes a muffled, surprised sound. The warmth in Katara’s stomach drops into a tense thrill, like when Appa plummets suddenly during flight.

Aang is the one left breathless this time, and it’s more than a little impressive, considering he’s an airbender. After a moment, the fierceness in Zuko’s posture eases, and the delightful tension fades. His voice is raspy when he murmurs, glancing to Katara, “Stay. It’s gotten late.”

It wasn’t initially part of their plan, but Katara nods, smiling over the rim of her glass. She’s game if they are, trusts that they can all handle themselves—it’s wonderful that Zuko thinks so too. They’ve shared beds as pairs before, though that was without this passion simmering so openly between them.

“Is that your way of saying you’re ready to take us to bed?” Aang asks, grinning and wiggling his eyebrows. Katara might have to think twice about it, in that case, because he’s the only one who hasn’t been drinking, and poor Zuko’s gone strawberry-red.

“Not like that, I’m not – I mean, no pressure, only if you want—”

Nothing will come of it yet, rationally speaking; Aang’s a flirt, but when she thinks back on it, he said things like that to Zuko even before confessing his undying love for him, so Zuko must know better than to take him seriously.

Then again, nothing feels serious right now, everything perfectly light and crystalline and dreamy, all the weight of secrecy lifted from her heart. She can’t help but laugh. It infects Zuko, too, his embarrassed glower slipping and lips twitching into a smile as he shakes his head at Katara.

“So much for waiting for our honeymoon at the palace,” she says, leaning across him to poke Aang accusingly in the chest.

“Okay, okay,” Aang says, glancing at Katara as he nuzzles into the crook of Zuko’s neck with playful smugness. In return, Katara sticks her tongue out at him as she wraps herself around Zuko’s arm. “Maybe His Royal Hotness just doesn’t want to admit he’s getting sleepy.”

Zuko rolls his eyes, but he makes no move to escape them. “I changed my mind. I’m kicking you both out.”

“Too late!” With a huff of air, Aang sends himself flying backwards and lands sprawled on the nearby mattress, making himself at home.

Katara’s laughter keeps bubbling up like a running stream, trickling off only when she curves her arm around Zuko’s head and pulls him into another kiss of her own. When she stands, she’s only a little unsteady on her feet, and takes hold of both of Zuko’s hands to pull him with her. He goes to snuff out the lantern, while Katara sits on the edge of the bed and starts to let down her hair for the night. 

Aang helps without being asked, taking extra care to disentangle the ties painlessly. Katara closes her eyes with a pleased hum, enjoying his familiar hands massaging her scalp.

Yawning, she cracks her eyes open again to find Zuko still crouched by the lantern, watching her and Aang with something inscrutable in his expression, something both fragile and ardent. The low-burning light casts half his face in a mellow orange glow, until he shakes himself from his reverie and puts out the candle’s flame.

“Come on, I promise I won’t let my husband jump you,” she says, patting the space beside her.

“Hey, I’m not planning to do anything indecent!” Aang protests. Katara glances over her shoulder to find him pouting and giving Zuko his best innocent Appa eyes. “I am staying in the middle, though. Unless you want to?”

Zuko shakes his head, drifting closer but still hesitating. “No, it’s just – three’s a crowd, right? I can take the sofa, and you two can have the bed, if it’s easier.”

There’s a point to that—this bed is probably meant to comfortably accommodate two at most, and Aang might as well be a person and a half, all lanky arms and legs everywhere, but Katara’s not about to let that stop them. “Zuko,” she says, with the specific kind of misplaced authority she gets only around the time that tiredness overtakes tipsiness for her. “After everything we’ve said, you really think we’d even think of stealing your bed without you?”

Zuko opens his mouth, closes it again, and eventually says, smiling, “That barely makes sense.”

“C’mere,” Aang says, and finally, Zuko does. 

He’s still awkward when he sits next to Katara, still stiff and uncertain when Aang wraps his arms around them both. She doesn’t know whether to call it silly or sad, that Zuko has such trouble letting his guard down, letting himself accept their love, even after admitting he’s wanted this for a long time. That he never thought he would have it. Maybe that he never thought he deserved it?

She’s reached the point where she wants to cry a little bit, but she doesn’t, just presses her forehead together against his and Aang’s and lingers in the quiet intimacy of the moment. Everything she wants is right here in this room.

Eventually, Aang reaches for Zuko’s casual evening robes, with a gentle “Can I?” As he helps Zuko out of his clothes, Katara unwinds the ribbon securing Zuko’s topknot and adds it to the pile of her hair bands on the bedside table. She smooths out his hair before shrugging out of her own outer layers, down to sarashi. Normally, she likes the freedom of sleeping without the wrappings, but she figures they’re trying to maintain some propriety for Zuko’s sake, both he and Aang keeping their loose pants on.

Katara runs her hands lightly over Zuko’s bare shoulders, presses a kiss to his collarbone and then his cheek. “I’m glad we’re here with you,” she says sincerely, raising her hands to cup his face. “Earlier, I thought, we could be ruining our friendship, that we’d be forcing our feelings on you. And if you ever don’t feel what we feel, we can always stop, or—”

“Katara, please,” he whispers, and it’s a genuine entreaty, his lips ghosting against the side of her thumb. “It’s not – it’s just me, I’m not…good. At any of this. But it’s not that you’re forcing anything, I promise.”

“Hey, you are good,” Aang says, taking both of Zuko’s hands in his. “You’re amazing, in fact. You’ve changed our lives in so many ways.”

Zuko exhales a shaky breath, a hint of a self-deprecating laugh. “Not always for the better.” He pauses, looking everywhere except for them. Katara and Aang exchange a stricken look; it’s always heart-wrenching, to hear the way he mistrusts himself. “I just worry I’ll…what if I mess it up? Everything you have, it’s already perfect, and I don’t want you to have to sacrifice that for me. What if it’s not worth it, what if I’m…not?”

Wordlessly, Aang pulls him into a tighter hug. Zuko makes a slightly distressed sound, but holds on when Aang starts to let go in confusion and worry. With his nails digging into Aang’s arm, Katara can’t help but think he looks almost like a scared animal, utterly incongruous with the Fire Lord she knows, the image of confident power he projects. In a way, she’s always known it to be a projection, at least in part—that beneath the surface, there’s still the old volatility, like a riptide beneath a calm stretch in the waves. 

He’s grown so much, but there’s still something lost about him, something hunted. As if he still doesn’t think he’s earned his peace, and makes himself restless with doubt in recompense.

Katara’s throat closes up, and she blinks through the wateriness in her eyes as she twines her fingers with Zuko’s. He squeezes her hand so tightly it trembles.

“Listen,” she says with difficulty, “I’d gladly sacrifice plenty of things for you, I know we both would. But it is so much more than that, it’s – it’s hoping, and it’s knowing you better every day, and knowing Aang better through you, and seeing you both in everything I do for the rest of my life. You’re not taking anything away from us.”

“You’re giving us so much,” Aang finishes the thought for her, perfectly on the same wavelength. “We’re figuring this out together, all three of us. Maybe it won’t always be the easiest thing, but it is the most freeing. It already makes me so happy, just being able to be close to you. And if this makes you happy, too, then it’s so worth it. You’ve just gotta let yourself trust in it. Do you trust us?”

Zuko nods slowly, but unhesitatingly, and the nervous hunch of his shoulders starts to relax. He loosens his grip on Aang and Katara with an apologetic glance. Noticing her tears, he reaches up to brush them away, and when he meets Aang’s eyes, Katara can tell Zuko’s really seeing him again. He kisses Aang’s knuckles, then hers, softly. 

“We all have to leave in the morning, don’t we?” he says. “It’s probably time to sleep.”

Katara sighs and sinks back into the mattress, and Aang follows, pulling Zuko with him. “I wish we had more time,” she murmurs, resting her forehead against Aang’s back. 

“Someday we’ll have all the time in the world,” Aang says, and he sounds so assured that Katara almost finds it easy to believe the same.

“Maybe when we’re retired,” Zuko says with a small snort.

“Hey, lucky you, you get to retire! ‘Avatar’ is a lifelong job title, Mr. Fire Lord.”

Zuko musters a chuckle, and Katara props herself up with one arm beneath her head, so she can look at him over Aang’s shoulder. He’s lying on his side, facing her and Aang, bathed in the moonlight pooling in through the window.

It’s not the first time she’s noticed their matching lightning scars, the wounds she healed for each of them. These days Zuko is only shirtless during sparring matches with Aang, though, and those are always a blur of acrobatics and heat—not that she ever complains, when she gets the chance to watch. But it’s rare to observe them both so still together. Katara can trace around the familiar, messy red sprawl midway down Aang’s spine that interrupts the line of his tattoo, and almost be able to reach out and touch Zuko’s, sharper and neater on the edges, maybe from his partial redirection back then.

She resists the urge, not wanting to dwell more on the turmoil of the past when they’ve worked so hard to focus tonight on the shining bright future ahead of them. For now, she can content herself with knowing that they’re both safe, here with her.

Aang’s breathing is deepening into near-sleep, one hand extended and tangled with Zuko’s. Katara stretches her arm to join the hand pile, though Aang’s is inconveniently longer and in the way. Zuko scoots closer to accommodate, offering up his other hand to her. His long lashes sweep in a slow blink, but he’s still awake. For the first time, she notices those are mismatched in the same way as his eyebrow, never regrown on the burned side.

“You know, you have to actually close your eyes to sleep,” she says softly.

Zuko gives her a faint smile. “Yeah. I just don’t want to open them again, and find out I’ve been dreaming.”

“Aww, you’d—” Aang interrupts himself with a wide yawn “—you’d dream about us?”

“Hah, you have no idea.”

Aang laughs, and Katara raises an eyebrow with interest. But again, they’ll have to leave that for another time.

“It might help if you get comfortable,” she says, before Aang can tease Zuko further. “Turn over.” After a moment, Zuko complies, but just stays there, facing away. “Not like – I meant, turn over, and come closer, too.”

“Like spoons,” Aang adds helpfully, as Zuko shuffles into cuddling range, his back close to Aang’s chest.

Katara curls her arm across them both. “There. Now, relax. We’ve got you.”

It takes several minutes of hesitant shuffling, tiny adjustments, tensed muscles beneath her palm. While Aang’s hand rests automatically around Zuko’s middle, Katara moves hers up, reaching for his hair to thread her fingers through it, trying to soothe him. Surprisingly, it seems to help. Zuko leans his head into her touch, eases back against Aang, and breathes out a sigh that sounds…relieved.

“Love you,” Aang mumbles, almost asleep for real now. Katara knows he doesn’t intend it just for her, but she kisses his forehead, making him hum pleasantly and tangle one ankle with hers as he secures his gentle hold on Zuko.

As she’s drifting off, she hears Zuko murmur, “I –” and hesitate, his quiet swallow audible in the stillness of the night. “I’ll be better at this next time,” he says eventually. “I promise.”

Katara lays her hand over his heart. It’s still beating too fast for him to be totally at rest, but slowing, little by little. “I love you too, Zuko.”

#zutaraang #zutara #zukaang #kataang #atla #zutaraangdrabblechallenge #mod j #Anonymous