#raphael oh king where was your crown

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Sleepy Sunset Duo drawings…😴🌅🐢🧡❤️

CW BLOOD AND INJURY, ANSGT JUMPSCARE

Bonus stuffs beneath cut

[phoebepheebsphibs]

I desperately wished for Raph to have some markings as well because the boi needed the ✨𝒮𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓀𝓁𝑒𝓈✨ and he got gypped 

those concept boards for the boys' ninpō marks live in my mind rent free

Twitter

[khaleesiofalicante]

okay I still have last week's liveblog because my dumbass forgot to send it so here you go

Okay I wanna liveblog this chapter

I have a bag of candy and a giant lollipop next to me and Hamilton is playing

LET'S GOOO

okay the theme is obviously Pride

shinyun go away ew

shoo

sprinkles holy water

Asmodeus on his death bed hehehhehehehe

okay but love the "yo let's steal their canons" in the right-hand man

"your friend" ew ew ew

I LOVE LIN'S PART IN RIGHT-HAND MAN AFTER WASHINGTON IS LIKE "Bitch I need you to be my right-hand man" LOVE HIS PART SO MUCH

If he has to choose between Alec and Asmodeus, he will choose Alec every time.

I feel like this is like a foreshadowing for the future where he DOES choose Asmodeus

He didn’t know what safety feels like until he found himself in Alec’s arms.

🥺 😭

the hoodie 😭

Magnus will probably never find the strength to go back there.

oh…

I hope that if you ever do, it's with someone you love and you make so many good memories

LILY

"Tall" NO SHE IS TINY 😭

oo cool jacket

omg queer party yesss

can I join the party

Raphael being Raphael is just some top-grade shit

Magnus I don't mean to be that person but lyn would give you a lecture and a reality check on why you should not go to that party and study for your exam

shudders. been there.

AYY THEY'RE GOING TO THE PARTY

nice car

okay but alec, Magnus, lily and Raphael at a party together is such an interesting idea

if magnus bane showed up at my door holding a pride flag and dress like that I would simply not ask questions and just go with him

King George's songs in the musical are the best thing ever

oh that makes so much sense

Coming out doesn’t really mean you are completely free.

There are so many queer people, even the ones who are out and proud, who hide parts of themselves to make things easier.

Safer.

Yup

I have eaten too much candy

and I don't even like sweet things

I just unwrapped a giant lollipop

...

fuck you, Lyn I see it now...that sounds so wrong omg

okay back to tlnd

Because something tells him if he starts giving these things up for Alec, he won’t be able to stop.

BABE GOOD FOR YOU I SAY

HAVE FUN AT THE PARTY

middle

OMG ALEC TOOK MAGNUS TO INDONESIA

THEY DID GO THERE

YAYAYAYA

THAT MUG YESSSSSSSSS

RAFE'S OUTFIT OH WOW

max just wants to go there for universal studios i love him

“Can we give him back?”

“Unfortunately, he came with a non-refundable policy,” Alec replies.

glares at my brother

they all do don't they?

YOU DID IT, BABY

ooo his first pride since being elected?

"I look at bapak," Rafael replies. "I don't feel nervous when I look at him."

Omg yess

OMG YES MY BABY YOU GOO

For a long time, he had believed he isn’t allowed to want things like this.

Now he can.

Now he will make sure no one else will ever feel that way again.

I am love you

you did it omg I'm so proud

oh my god Magnus

I'm thirsting respectfully

HOLY SHIT HE'S SO FUCKING HOT I WANT HIM TO-

ahem

AYY THEY'RE GOING TO CHINA

rafe i love you but…why

political rallies are a mess

“This is why I tell you that we should have a daughter,” Alec tells Magnus. “Boys are annoying.”

You absolutely should

takes out alice from my pocket

i have one right here

hehehhehehehhe biter!alec

“It’s pride month,” Alec whispers, biting his earlobe. “It’s homophobic to stop kissing.”

SO TRUE

“Then go somewhere where you can’t,” Alec yells back. “This place has forty rooms!”

“Then get one, oh my god!”

max is so done omg

i wanna touch those arms and have them wrapped around my throat

IT'S THE EVE OF RAMADAN YOU THIRSTY HOE-

ahem im fine

“Just speak as you always do.” Magnus puts his hand on Alec’s chest. “Right from here.”

THEM

this is so amazing

Selena with her pride wings, Lexi is carrying a rainbow-themed sword for some reason, and David is wearing a rainbow crown.

DAMN WOW

GIDEON AND THOMAS

Dad…Dad wasn’t really a great man.

But he tried. He got better. He changed.

That made him a good man.

Sometimes that's enough

Sometimes the world needs more good people than great people.

yes

I don’t want to stand here and talk about all the things I wish to do to make our lives better. But there are things I want to do. Because we do deserve better. I want you to remember that. Every one of you here, deserve better. Not because you identify as queer. But because you are human. Remember when we fight, we are simply not fighting for love. We are fighting for our rights. I promise to fight for these rights as for long as I can.

DUDE-

SO MANY FEELS

LOVE THIS SO MUCG

Some ask for a kiss. Magnus shoos them away.

It was me. Who asked for a kiss.

HIS GROWTH THOUGH

MY BOY

And for once, Alec believes him without questioning it.

Because he did do good.

And he intends to keep doing it.

SO PROUD

The end

YAY PRIDE PARTY

I WANT MAX TO ORGANISE MY BIRTHDAY PARTIES

Okay I need to know more about the assassination

hmm…

OMG SELENA

THE CROP TOP YASS

“I don’t know,” Selena bites her lip. “Do you think it’s stupid? Dating someone you met online?”

I dated someone online once

and no it's not stupid

ALSO MICHAEL

FUCK NOOO

GABRIEL'S MOTHER

Max where the fuck did you go?

oo max-

“That’s weird,” Max pouts. “I’m of legal age to enroll in the military but I can’t smoke weed? Sounds fucked up, bro.”

that is very fucked up

OH SHIT

AGAIN????

WHAT WHAT WHAT

noice

me interested

I'm just eating candy here

oo, not the David card

Welp.

Hi.

Here.

Green shirt is David. Black is Max. White is Gabriel.

[golden-deer-dear]

What We Deserve, Claude x Byleth Fluff

Summary: Claude and Byleth are intent on breaking down the walls between Almyra and Fódlan, and they're starting with their wedding.

A series of snapshots of their wedding day.

Notes:  My entry for the @claudlethweek prompt, which was traditions. Hope you guys enjoy!

Read on AO3.

What We Deserve

"I want to spend the night with my wife!" Claude whined as he draped himself over a fainting couch. He had spent most of the day running from Lorenz, but his friend had finally caught up with him and dragged Claude into a large chamber covered in maps and tapestries depicting battles fought long ago. Claude guessed this was the room in which Holst usually held his war councils, and was cleared out just for this special occasion. (Ever since Byleth and Claude had asked Holst to take over the Locket for the ceremony, Holst had taken his duty as host very seriously.)

"She is not your wife until tomorrow," Lorenz pointed out while pouring himself a glass of wine. He completely ignored the melodramatic pout Claude shot his way, refusing even to look at the newly crowned Almyran king sprawled out over a plush couch like a spoiled child. 

“Well, spending all night in prayer to the goddess doesn’t sound like much fun either,” Claude said, continuing to sulk.

Lorenz and Sylvain both laughed, making Claude feel like he was missing out on the joke. Even Felix was fighting back a smile when he looked up at them all. “Technically what we’re supposed to be doing,” Sylvain said as he popped the cork out of another bottle of wine. “Not that anyone ever really does that.” He poured a much too generous amount of wine into a goblet and handed it to Claude. “Drink up, buddy.”

Claude’s pout fell away, replaced by a much more interested gleam in his eyes. “So this is what you do instead?” he asked as he took the offered cup. “Get drunk and eat too much?”

Raphael laughed, already piling a ridiculous amount of food onto his plate. “It’s a celebration! What better way to tell the goddess you’re thankful for all the good things in your life than by actually showing her?”

Claude raised his cup in a salute. “Well said, Raph.”

“Yeah!” Raphael cheered through a mouth full of food. “Besides, we’ve got a ton of food! It’d be a shame to let it go to waste! And there’ll be more tomorrow too!”

“Yes,” Lorenz drawled, staring at the large man with a bit of endearment, but mostly disgust. “We’ll be attending feasts for the next week, what with how you and the Professor have agreed to honor each culture of your respective cultures.”

“You don’t think we deserve it after all this?” Claude asked lightly, taking a sip of wine.

Lorenz sighed a bit melodramatically, his shoulders slumping to add to the act. “I suppose we do.”

“We’re really happy for you, Claude,” Ignatz added, looking like he wasn’t sure where he should be at the moment. “You and the Professor have done so much for us, we wish you the best.”

“Well said,” Sylvain agreed, raising his glass. “While I am saddened that it will not be me waiting for our beloved Professor before the altar tomorrow, I could not have lost to a better man.”

“Careful now,” Claude said as he leaned back into the couch, raising his cup to his lips to hide the grimace of annoyance that crossed his face. “Keep talking like that, and those words might find their way back to Ingrid.”

Sylvain blanched, while Felix outright laughed. “Ah well, to you and the Professor!” Sylvain managed to finish before tipping his glass back. Despite the nature of the first part of the toast, the other men in the room drank as well, Lorenz shaking his head at their first Blue Lion transfer. 

“You got all that?”

Claude turned to look as Cyril opened the door to the large chamber the men had taken over. Someone, Claude suspected was Ashe, walked through with a tray ladden so high with food there was no way he could see over it. “Ah, yes, thank you, Cyril.” Yep, definitely Ashe. 

“Here, let me help ya!” Without waiting for an answer, and despite Ashe’s previous assurance, Raphael swept the tray out of Ashe’s hands, leaving the poor boy blinking in shocked confusion, before depositing it on the table with the rest of the food they had already acquired. 

Claude’s mouth watered as the scent of onion and saffron floated on the air. “That smells amazing.”

“I hope it tastes good,” Ashe said nervously. “I got the recipe from one of the women that came with your mother.”

Claude looked at the tray, smiling widely at the sight. “Are they cakes?” Lorenz asked.

“A rice cake,” Claude clarified. “It’s got chicken and yogurt in it too. One of my favorites when I was a kid. I haven’t had it in....a really long time.”

“My mom used to make those,” Cyril said softly, his eyes lighting up with happy memories. 

The Fódlan born nobles looked at the cakes suspiciously. Ignatz, Raphael, and Cyril were quick to dig in. Claude launched off the couch toward the tray. “Hey! Save some for me!” 

And so, Claude spent the night before his wedding feasting and drinking with some of his closest friends. When Sylvain challenged him to a game of chess, Claude showed him no mercy. The only thing that would have made it better was if Byleth had been allowed to join them.

/

Spring was well under way, but this far up in the mountains there was still a nip in the air. Byleth enjoyed it, content as a light wind blew around them. Holst had cleared out an outdoor section of the keep for her and ‘her ladies’ (as he had taken to calling them). He and Seteth were around somewhere, patrolling to keep unwanted visitors away from the small bridal party. (Although, Flayn had proven to be the most terrifying option to run into. Her disarming smiles made whomever she aimed them at feel as if they had disappointed the goddess herself.)

“All right, so we have options,” Hilda said, uncharacteristically serious. She set a large box in front of Byleth, who simply stared back at her. 

Leonie snorted from her position next to Odette, helping Claude’s mother check over some substance called henna. Hilda ignored her and opened the box, revealing golden jewelry. Byleth leaned forward to study them, seeing that all contained little details that were Hilda’s signature trademarks.

“Did you make all of these for me?”

Hilda flushed lightly. “I just brought a selection of my latest designs,” she said too quickly. “I figured we would let you choose first, and then the rest of us could choose something so we matched.” 

“That was sweet of you,” Marianne said in her soft voice, making Hilda flush even deeper. Byleth shared a look with Leonie, and they quickly moved to hide their laughter. 

“Ooooh, these are so pretty!” Annette squealed, leaning over Byleth’s shoulder to get a better look. 

“Oh, this necklace is beautiful.” Dorothea joined them, pulling out a rose shaped pendant made of tiny rubies and emeralds. 

“It is,” Byleth agreed. “But I think that would look better on Leonie than on me.”

“Me?” Leonie almost shrieked. Odette clicked her tongue when the other woman almost spilled the henna in her shock. “I don’t really do jewelry, so I’m good.”

“But Lorenz would certainly like it,” Hilda pointed out, her turn to look smug as Leonie went bright red. 

Odette was silent as she joined them, setting up her bowls and brushes in front of Byleth. She took Byleth’s hand in her own and began to work as the girls continued to talk. “Do not choose a necklace for yourself,” she instructed. “I brought something for you to wear as well.”

Hilda latched onto those words and immediately focused her attention on Claude’s mother. “I would love to see it!”

Odette smiled, still focused on Byleth’s hands as she began to apply the henna, but said, “Mercedes, please bring over the box in my belongings inlaid with the golden sun.”

“Oh, certainly.” It did not take Mercedes long to find the specified box and bring it over to the group. When Odette nodded, she opened it, all of the women gathered around gasping at the beauty of the choker laying on black velvet. Mercedes took it from the box and placed it around Byleth’s neck. The large emerald resting against her throat caught the noonday light, reminding her of her fiance's eyes.

“We are bringing the wine!” Petra’s loud announcement broke through the silence that had settled over the group, and everyone relaxed back into their easy chatting as she and Ingrid poured everyone a glass. 

“Petra! You should braid the Professor’s hair!” Dorothea suggested happily.

“Yes! That would be amazing!” Hilda agreed readily.

Petra smiled at Byleth hesitantly. “That would be wonderful,” Byleth said, answering Petra’s unspoken question. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

Petra shook her head and took a place behind Byleth. “I do not be minding.”

“Oooh, you’re going to be so pretty!” Annette squealed again. Byleth was finding out that wedding apparently made the younger woman a bit giddy. 

“Claude’s going to cry when he sees you,” Hilda said with a smirk. 

“All right, I finished it.”

Byleth turned to Lysithea. The young woman had gone off earlier that morning, and no one had been able to find her since. Now it seemed she had returned, brandishing...a flower crown? She blushed at Byleth’s questioning look. “I know you are dressing in Almyran tradition, and Claude is doing the same with Fódlan fashions, but this isn’t exactly something for Claude.”

Seeing that Byleth was still confused, Mercedes continued the explanation. “The youngest member of the bridal party makes a crown of lilies for the bride to wear. It is supposed to represent her devotion to the goddess.”

Byleth raised her eyebrows, and turned back to Lysithea. “It doesn’t have to mean that. I mean, you practically are the goddess, but I just thought…” The young woman trailed off, uncharacteristically unsure of herself.

“I like it,” Byleth said simply. “Petra, can we integrate it into your design?”

“Yes, of course.”

For the first time in a long time, Byleth felt truly relaxed. Her former students...no, her friends, chatted around her, helping her choose the finishing touches for her outfit tomorrow. Tomorrow. Byleth smiled softly and touched the emerald at her throat, thinking of just what all this was for. Tomorrow she would marry Claude.

Odette noticed, squeezing Byleth’s hand gently. “You really love my son, don’t you?” Her question went unheard by the others. Dorothea had roped them into helping her convince Ingrid to wear makeup for the ceremony. 

Byleth’s smile grew wider, unable to hide her happiness. “Yes.”

“Good. He needs a woman like you.”

/

Byleth frowned in concern, until she heard the noise again. With a sigh, she went to the window and waited. “That took you longer than usual,” Byleth said as Claude dragged himself into the room. He rolled gracelessly, crashing onto the floor. A moment later he held something up, giving a triumphant cry.

“Yeah, well I was carrying something.” Claude indicated the covered tray in his hands. “I brought you some food.”

“Are you drunk?” Byleth asked, watching as Claude got himself to his feet.

He held his fingers very close together in front of his face. “A little bit.”

Byleth laughed softly and shook her head. “Claude, you know we’re not supposed to see each other until the ceremony.”

“I know!” Claude whined like a wounded puppy. “But to be fair, it’s too dark in here for me to actually see you. And Ashe made tahchin, and I really wanted you to try it.”

“You’ll have to feed it to me,” Byleth said. There was the hint of a tease in her voice, one which Claude would usually catch onto easily, but this time it seemed to fly right over his head. “Your mother will kill me if I mess up her work.” She wiggled her fingers at him, but it really was too dark for him to make out the details of her henna. 

“I can do that.” Claude crashed into a chair, pulling Byleth into his lap. He removed the cover of the tray and picked up some of the food, trying to aim for Byleth’s mouth. He missed completely, smashing it against her cheek.

“Claude!” Byleth laughed, trying to brush the rice from her cheek.

Claude joined in her laughter, burying his face against her shoulder. He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of her. Byleth could feel him relax against her back. “Stars, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Claude,” Byleth answered back, brushing Claude’s unruly hair back out of his face. She kissed his forehead, content to simply snuggle against the man she had chosen as her own. They fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.

Lorenz waking them up with a shriek about decorum was rather amusing. And honestly, Byleth could not think of a more perfect way to start off her wedding day.

/

Byleth’s breath caught in her throat as she peeked around the corner, managing to catch a glimpse of  Claude. He was so handsome she felt she needed to remind herself how to pull air into her lungs.

She watched as he adjusted the sleeve of his tunic, its light gold color matching her dress. The surcoat he wore over it was a soft green, a few shades darker than Byleth’s eyes, and a darker gold. It was emblazoned with the Crest of Flames on the left side, right above his heart, and the Crest of Riegan on the right. The surcoat draped a few inches below his knees, almost meeting his polished black boots. There was only an inch or so of the tight black leggings he worn on beneath, and Byleth felt herself flush slightly upon thinking of seeing him in just those leggings later. 

Seteth said something to him, which Claude responded to with a laugh and that charming smile of his. His gloved hands rested on his belt, both inlaid with gems mapping out constellations in the night sky. His gloves showed ones from Fódlan, while the belt depicted those seen in Almyra. 

Claude bent his head forward, that troublesome lock of hair falling forward into his face. He brushed it back, only for it to fall forward immediately. But then the music started, and Claude did not seem very interested in his hair any longer.

“Are you ready?” Alios asked her as the other members of the wedding party began to line up.

Byleth took his offered hand and nodded. Alois immediately began to tear up. “I wish your father could see you. He would be so proud,” Alois said, his voice quivering.

“I wish he was here too.” Byleth breathed deeply, her chest aching for a moment as she thought of Jeralt. “But, I know he would not have entrusted this task to anyone else besides you.”

Alois was full on openly weeping now. Byleth patted his hand and watched as Hilda linked arms with Marianne. Petra and Dorothea did the same, as did Sylvain and Ingrid, Felix and Annette, Ashe and Mercedes, Raphael and Ignatz, Lysithea and Cyril, and finally Lorenz and Leonie. 

They entered the room before her, lining up on their respective sides. Claude had claimed Petra and Hilda to stand behind him, while Byleth had insisted that Raphael join her. Lorenz and Marianne looked very proud as they took their places as man and maid of honor. 

And then all eyes turned back, eager for a sight of her. 

/

Claude’s jaw dropped as Byleth was led into the room. They were separated by a crowd of well wishers, but his entire world shrank to her. She was always beautiful, but right now she simply stole his breath away.

Her dress was a light gold, decorated with tiny diamonds that made her gleam when she moved. He had never before seen her in Almyran fashion, but there was something about the short sleeved top and flared skirts that suited her. As Alois escorted her down the aisle toward him, those skirts, upon which were embroidered golden wyverns, the very symbol of Almyran royalty, flared around Byleth. 

She held her head high, her eyes shining with joy as she looked at him, just as unable to tear her eyes away from him. Her hair was pulled back and braided, no doubt Petra’s work with how elegant the design. The red veil was sheer enough that Claude could see every detail beneath. Someone had woven together a crown of white Fódlan lilies and set it upon her head as well.

As she drew closer, Claude could hear the tinkling of her jewelry. Bracelets of gold hung from her wrists, and it sounded like she wore some on her ankles as well, hidden by the layers of skirts. There was a choker around her neck made of heavy gold and emeralds, the very one he knew his mother wore on her wedding day.

With tears on his cheeks, Alois guided Byleth’s hand to Claude’s. His heart skipped a beat as he held her lightly, pulling her closer to him. He could clearly see the whirls of henna on her arms now. There were stars woven into the designs on her fingers, while he noticed a sun and crescent moon on the back of her hands, rotating around a mandala. 

“You look like you stepped out of my dreams,” Claude whispered to her, blinking rapidly at the sudden urge to cry. He chuckled to himself. Only Byleth would have him weeping with joy. 

Byleth blushed, but held his gaze. “Putting that golden tongue to use a little early,” she teased. 

Seteth cleared his throat, reminding Claude that there were other people besides the two of them in the world. The ceremony began, but Claude went through it in a daze. He said his vows, promising himself to Byleth, and intertwined their fingers when their hands were bound together with a thick piece of forest green silk. It was with wide smiles on their faces that they tore off chunks of bread to feed to one another, and worked as a team to take a drink from a goblet full of sweet wine. 

They were finally allowed to exchange rings. Byleth sighed softly in relief as Claude’s ring was once more placed on her hand, holding it close to her chest and gracing him with the sweetest smile. Claude was grateful that he had been allowed to slide the ring on her first, because he needed Byleth to take his hand for him, guiding her mother’s resized ring onto his finger. 

And then Seteth officially declared them husband and wife. He did not even get the entirety of his sentence out before Claude was sweeping Byleth into a kiss so passionate it was right out of a romance novel. 

The room erupted into cheers around them, but Claude simply held Byleth tight, never wanting to let her go ever again.

/

“Are you ready?”

Byleth looked at Claude’s offered hand uncertainly. Their guests were fed, and their friends had given their speeches. Even Felix had offered a few words of encouragement. But now there was dancing. Dancing in the middle of a crowd was fine, but they would be no other couples this time. All eyes would be on them.

Claude, seeing her hesitation, offered her a gentle smile as well, one she had only ever seen when he looked at her. “Do you trust me?”

Byleth slid her hand in his and allowed Claude to pull her from her seat. “Of course I do.”

“Then trust I won’t lead you wrong, my love.”

He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her close. There was a brief moment, a breath of time, where the world stood still as she stared into Claude’s eyes, and everything else fell away. The music started, and Byleth no longer cared that anyone was watching them. 

The dance steps were a Fódlan waltz, but done to an Almyran tune. It meant that she and Claude were probably dancing the fastest waltz in history. They were practically flying across the dance floor, and Byleth laughed as Claude spun her around. 

By the time the song was over, Byleth did not want to stop.

/

There was one tradition Claude was not having anything to do with. It happened to be the one tradition both Fódlan and Almyra shared. When it came time for the bride and groom to leave the festivities, Claude insisted upon escorting Byleth himself by himself. 

Usually there would be a whole host of their closest friends following behind, who would help the couple out of their finery. It was intended as a blessing to their union, but there was a darkness that settled over him when Claude thought of anyone else getting to see Byleth like that.

Their bed would be more than blessed. He did not need help in that area.

So Claude shooed them all away with gentle but firm insistence, all of them laughing knowingly as he told them to go back to the party. Byleth slid her hand in his and leaned against his side, content as they began the journey to the chambers prepared for them.

“I didn’t want them to see you like that either,” she said softly.

And yet again, Byleth managed to make his brain forget how to work. Claude stopped in mid step to stare down at her. Byleth looked back at him questioningly, concern creeping into her eyes. Claude bent down to pick her up, throwing Byleth over his shoulder. She let out a small gasp of surprise, before it turned into that melodious laughter he loved so much.

“Claude, what are you doing?”

“I’m about to show my lovely wife the time of her life.”

Claude carried Byleth all the way to their rooms like that, his wandering hands caressing her bottom. He did not set her down until they reached their bed, and Byleth was quick to pull him down to join her.

/

Byleth woke to sunlight streaming in through the windows. Claude’s warmth was a comfort beside her. It was not the first time she had woken up next to him, most definitely not the first time they had spent the night in each other’s arms, but something about waking up as his wife made her heart swell. He had entrusted her long ago with his dreams, but now he had told the entire world.

She reached out, gently brushing back that unruly bit of hair she loved to play with. Claude frowned and muttered something inaudible, attempting to bury his face in the pillow. Byleth chuckled softly, Claude’s eyes opening slightly at the noise. “I must have really worn you out last night,” she teased.

Claude’s frown deepened, and Byleth could see the start of a scheme forming in those emerald eyes. “Is that what you think?”

“Certainly seems that way.” Byleth rolled onto her back and stretched, feeling his eyes on her the entire time. She moved to slide out of the bed, but Claude’s arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back. 

“I might have to take it as an insult then that you’re so energetic this morning then,” he murmured, sitting up to place a trail of kisses down her back.

“Well the answer to that is obvious.” Byleth sighed contentedly and leaned back in her husband’s embrace, enjoying the way his hands explored her. He had already mapped every inch of her body, but he never seemed content. He always seemed to need to redraw those maps, committing the feel of her to memory. 

“Oh? Are you going to share this hidden knowledge with me?” Claude laid her back down, leaning over her as he began to work his way down her body. She shivered in anticipation as his lips journeyed across her stomach.

“I’m happy,” Byleth said simply.

Claude paused, fully positioned between her legs. Byleth caught the deep blush on his cheeks before he dove down, using her thighs to hide his embarrassment. “You know,” Claude murmured against her skin, “sometimes I wonder if you know what you do to me.”

“I do.” Byleth reached down, gently running her fingers through his hair. Claude laid his cheek against her leg and stared back up at her. If anyone saw that look in his eyes, they would have no doubt of his love for her, but Byleth preferred that look to be something for her alone. “But you’re just as aware when you do the same to me. And you enjoy it either way.”

Claude smirked and dipped his head back between her thighs, but not before leaving her with, “And I shall for the rest of our lives.”

[steph-writing]

Fem Byleth x Claude wedding...? Please

I got this ask a while ago but I needed the F E E L S to do it justice. And I can only hope I did it justice because THIS COUPLE!!!!!! DESERVES!!!!!! THE WORLD!!!!!! 😭😍 And I’m not used to 3rd POV writing so shit if I screwed up my bad lmao enjoy ;)

AO3 link

“Claude, you will not see the bride before she walks in!” Hilda barks at Claude for what feels like the hundredth time as she catches him trying to sneak in the room where Byleth is getting ready. “Get out of here before I chop off your favorite toy and ruin Byleth’s honeymoon.”

“Now, there’s no need to get aggressive, is there?” Claude tries to laugh it off but it’s clear as day from the way his stance shifts that he’s taking her threats very seriously.

But as he turns to try and make his escape back to the dining hall, a very smiley and a very annoyed Raphael and Lorenz block his exit.

“Hey Claude-”

“What exactly made you think you will marry Byleth dressed like that?” Lorenz interrupts Raphael’s warm-hearted exchange with nothing but sheer exasperation on his voice.

Letting out a deep breath, Hilda drops the axe she was wielding menacingly moments ago and smiles at the guys. “Good, you’re here. Could you please drag Claude’s sorry ass out of here? I need to check on Byleth.”

Not waiting for their reply, she storms off down the hall.

“I just wanted to talk with my fiancée, is that some sort of crime?” Claude tries to sound nonchalant, but it’s to no avail.

“I’m not sure you grasp the magnitude of the event that’s about to unfold!” Shaking his head, Lorenz, motions Raphael to grab Claude and start leading him away as they walk back to his room to finish getting him ready.

“This wedding is not only your joyous and, might I add, much delayed love union with Byleth, but also the joining of two great nations! Fódlan and Almyra were never amicable to each other, but that is bound to change with a romantic union of the leader of our free nation and the King of Almyra. You ought to show some respect and dignity to carry out your duties today!

“Besides, how do you think Byleth would feel if she could see just how little you seem to care to your appearance for today? Oh my, is that sauce I see on your shirt? Claude, this is unacceptable!

“Have you any idea what it would look like if…”

Lorenz keeps talking until they get there, all the way on the other side of the Monastery, but doesn’t seem to realize Claude, thrown over Raphael’s shoulder for good measure, has fallen asleep to the sound of his nagging, and only wakes up when Raphael puts him down non-ceremoniously on the chair while Lorenz hits his closet to find something he deems suitable for Claude to wear for his wedding.

*

Meanwhile, Hilda deals with something she never expected to see.

“What if he doesn’t show up? Or worse, if he says no? Or that it was all just a joke? What if he doesn’t really love me and this is just an overelaborated prank?”

Byleth is pacing around so fast that Hilda is having a hard time believing her former Professor even has the ability to talk so much and so fast all at once.

“Byleth, will you just calm down?” She storms up to the bride, stopping her at once and proceeding to fix the diadem on her hair.

“But Hilda, I-”

“I know, I know. It all seems very easy until it gets down to it, right? You get all these doubts and uncertainties and it makes you want to run far, far away and never look back.” Byleth nods slowly, biting down on her lip so hard she can almost taste the metal on her blood. “I’ve been there, remember? And you were there to knock some sense into me while I was already getting my wyvern ready to fly away.”

They both laugh softly at the memory. It is true, Byleth can still remember the tears on Hilda’s eyes as she questioned all she and her now husband ever went through and whether she was forcing him into their marriage.

“I was silly for doubting then, and you’re being even more now.” Gently pushing Byleth back to the chair, Hilda grabs some makeup and starts giving her some finishing touches. “My husband is a bit slow on that aspect, we both know that. But Claude’s different. He never hid how much he cares for you, nor how much he loves you.”

Byleth sighs, a small smile tugging the corners of her lips, and Hilda feels a pride tug on her now very pregnant belly. She was making her little boy proud by soothing his godmother at this time of need.

“I was outside kicking him out of here because he couldn’t stand not to see you until the ceremony, you know? He’s with Lorenz and Raphael now, and we both know those two won’t let anything happen to our boy. You can rest assured that he’ll be on that altar, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was already there, honestly.”

“It’s just… there’s so much that could go wrong.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a Golden Deer wedding if it all ran smoothly. We are quite the troublemakers, Professor.”

Winking mischievously at Byleth, Hilda focuses on finishing her makeup, the ceremony is just around the corner, and everything better be working out because she will not run around to fix everyone’s mess with a belly this big.

But she’d sure as hell make her husband do it.

As Hilda turns around to grab a different lip tint color, Byleth seems to gather her strength and rushes what’s been eating at her from the inside.

“Hilda, there’s something I haven’t told anyone yet…”

*

Finally, it’s time.

Claude can’t stop fidgeting on the altar, counting the seconds until Byleth walks through the Cathedral’s door. He hasn’t seen her all day, and ever since he came back, he’s tried to hear her laugh at least once a day. But today when he woke up, she was already gone, and the guys were already ready to drag him all around until the ceremony.

He managed to sneak away a few times, but a very pregnant and menacing Hilda blocked his every attempt at seeing his fiancée.

They lived in Derdriu but decided to hold the wedding on the Monastery for several reasons. It was here they shared their first kiss, all those years ago before the battle where Byleth disappeared. It was here where they were reunited, where they shared their first touches, where he heard her cries of pleasure for the first time, where they declared their love for each other… and where he proposed before leaving for Almyra.

He looks around the room and sees all of their friends sitting there, eager to see their union at long last, all happy smiles and teary eyes.

Dorothea, Manuela and Annette are next to the piano, ready to sing the entrance song when Byleth walks in.

Everyone attended, there are Blue Lions, Black Eagles and Golden Deers spread out, sitting next to each other… Claude can’t help but feel proud of his soon-to-be wife.

She really did help create a unified Fódlan, if you look at everyone on this room, you’d never say they weren’t always united.

He wishes, however, that Dimitri and Dedue could’ve been here. Even Edelgard and Hubert… but he knows that they’d be proud of what he and Byleth are accomplishing in Fódlan, and it brings a smile to his face.

Even the Almyrans have showed up for his wedding, some of them even mingling and chatting with the guests from Fódlan – the way it’s supposed to be. Looking at his parents sitting on the end of the front row, he can’t help but feel his heart break a bit.

Byleth doesn’t have any blood relatives left. He knows she still thinks of Jeralt, she told him as much, and every time he sees that forlorn look on her eyes when she visits his grave when they come to the monastery, he swears over and over again that he’ll give her the biggest and happiest family she’s ever seen.

Lorenz shifts next to him, and he notices he’s making room for Hilda to get on the other side of the altar as the maid of honor usually does. He also notices Seteth and Lorenz are quirking their eyebrows at Hilda, which he soon does too when he sees the huge smile that’s on her face.

“What…”

Claude’s question dies on his lips when the huge doors crack open, and the music starts playing.

The sun is shining bright, and it causes a halo of light to surround Byleth’s white dress as she steps on the threshold.

By all the Gods in this world, how is it that she’s looking even more beautiful than usual? Claude asks himself, all else forgotten. There’s a certain… glow on her, he can’t look away. Is it magic? It must be.

As Byleth walks in on Alois’s arm, he only partially notices how the old man is bawling his eyes out. He remembers how emotional he got when Byleth asked him to walk her on the aisle as her father figure. And he’s sure the song the girls are singing is very emotional and has nice lyrics, but he can’t hear them. He can’t see anyone else.

All he sees is Byleth.

All he feels is love.

All he wants is to hold her in his arms and swear before every God and Goddess out there that he will never let her go again, that his life is hers and that he promises to spend eternity making her happier each day.

Her hair cascades down her back in soft curls, the golden diadem crowning her head making her look like a Queen, his Queen. And her dress hugs her every curve, making her look so tempting it should be a sin to walk in a church like that.

When she reaches the altar, he’s dazzled by her smile, by the sheer love that’s on her eyes, a look he’s sure is a clear reflection of his. Claude’s hardly able to spare a glance to Alois when he takes Byleth’s hands in his, but he’s sure the man didn’t notice through all the tears on his face.

Seteth begins the ceremony, a mix of Fódlan and Almyran traditions, and Claude’s sure it must be lovely, but he can’t stop looking at Byleth, and she can’t stop looking at him. It’s only when it’s time for his vows that he finds his voice again.

“I vow to love you, protect you, and stand by you. Now and forever. My anamchara, I will never leave you, for my life is yours and without you I can’t ever be. I never thought I’d need someone as much as I need you, and never have I thought that I’d enjoy sharing so much of myself, my dreams and my life with someone. Thank you for trusting me, for being my friend, for being my teach, and for being my love. I promise to give you all I am, and to be your friend, your lover, and your family. Now and forever.”

Byleth’s eyes are so marred with tears, her voice wavers when it’s her turn.

“I vow to love you, protect you, and stand by you. Now and forever. Finding you was like finding a piece of me I always knew was missing. Thank you for being there for me when I needed someone, for being my shoulder to cry on and the one to make me laugh even in the darkest times. My anamchara,” she says the word with that cute accent that always makes Claude’s heart hammer on his chest, “I love you more than I ever thought it to be possible. I promise to give you all I am, and to be your friend, your lover and your family. Now and forever.”

Claude’s lips quiver at her vow, and as they exchange their rings, both of their hands shake at their overjoyed anticipation of a life together at last.

At the sound of all their friends’ cheer, Claude pulls Byleth against his chest by her waist, and they share the purest of smiles before he leans down to kiss her with all the love he can muster.

Pulling their lips apart, Claude still can’t let go of his wife. Wife. He thinks the word to himself over and over, adoring the feel of it, only to have his thoughts interrupted by her small voice whispering against his neck.

“Claude, I…”

“What is it?” He senses her hesitation and tilts her head up with a gentle finger under her chin. She knows she can tell him whatever, he’ll still be there for her.

“I’m pregnant.”

His smile falters for a moment, but before Byleth can even look away, he breaks out in laughter, and pulls her even closer, lifting her as he spins around hugging her, which is enough for her to loosen up and laugh alongside him, both basking on the joy of the chance of starting their own family.

Today is, without a shadow of doubt, the best day in Claude’s life.

And as they walk down the aisle into their new life, they know they’ll love each other until the end of this world.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

(Oh shit! I'm here for it.)

Lucifer could have sworn his jaw was on the floor in disbelief. After everything she did to cause chaos in Hell they are going to reward her with a the Commanders position??!!

Adam is going to be pissed when he finds out.

Lucifer: You have got to be fucking kidding me. You're supposed to be a prisoner of heaven for your crimes against the crown!

Lilith smirked: They consider this my penance for what happened.

Raphael: She is an up standing member and the exorcists need a firm hand. Lilith was more than happy to volunteer her time.

Lucifer: Yeah I bet she was. Now, what about Sera where is she?

Raphael: She is fine. That is all you need to know.

-

Velvette stormed the studio pissed off more than ever.

Vox: I take it Queeny baby didn't want the dress.

Velvette: No thanks to you and Sargent shit heads smear campaign from years ago he wouldn't even fucking try it on!! I was there all of a minute before I was showed the door.

Vox: Did he even look at it?

Velvette threw herself on the couch: Said he liked it...... Guess that's something but I have no proof! Gah! Why didn't I record him at least saying he liked it it would have been enough. Fuck !!

Vox felt a little bad, at the time Adam was still new to being the Queen and they trusted Lilith more. Now it was doing nothing but bite them on the ass for what they did.

It was hurting their bottom line.

Vox: You know, I could always Persaud him.

He used his eye trick to indicate what he meant. Velvette perked up for a moment only to slump again.

Velvette: You want to hypnotize the fucking Queen of Hell? Are you mad?

Vox: Think about it! We could get him to endorse more than just that one dress. All kinds of your clothes plus Vox Tech. Adam's first ad endorsement.

It was a known fact that Adam didn't do commercials or as placements or even leaving reviews for items.

His review would be if he liked something or not and the press heard about it having it spread like wildfire.

Velvette smiled: You know what? Fuck it. But what about the King? He is very protective of Adam and if he even gets a whiff of what we want to do it's game over.

Vox: I'm sure he won't miss his husband for an afternoon. Besides, Lucifer can't be with him all the time.

-

Adam sniffed and blew his nose. He had finally calmed down and decided to take it easy. He was rewatching his favorite show to keep his mind off of things.

Adam: It's a shame she was with the Vees, that dress was nice.

(The Dress that Velvette made for Adam)

Queen Adam Au Part 6

Velvette was throwing material around her fashion studio, she needed to find the perfect material. Not just any will do.

If she was going to gain favor with the Queen of Hell, Adam Morningstar, then it needed to be perfect.

For months Velvette had been keeping an eye on magazine articles about what Adam would wear and not long after those items would become hot commodities.

She wanted that monetary profit.

Vox walked in narrowly avoided getting his by a bag of glitter.

Vox: Vel, what fresh Hell is this? You're making a mess.

Velvette: I want to make the most perfect dress for the Queen. If Adam loves and buys a dress from me we will be rolling in it more than we are now. He's a fashion icon, anyone worth their shit wants to look like him.

Vox sipped his coffee: That would be a great help. Has he bought anything of yours in the past?

Velvette deflated a bit: No, but that just means he hasn't worn a true fucking masterpiece yet!

-

Adam yawned, it was so early and he had to feed his babies. He went to the nursery to get the twins.

Adam: Good morning my little beauties.

He picked up Ariel first and sat in the rocking chair while he breast fed his baby.

Lucifer came in a couple minutes later: Hey, need any help?

Adam: You can burp her so I can feed him.

Lucifer: Okay, come here my beauties.

Lucifer took the baby and gave Adam a kiss. He burped his little girl as Adam picked up Adrial and fed him.

*Adam was so happy over the fact that Lucifer was not only an amazing husband, he was also an equally amazing father as well, fatherhood was just as important to Adam as motherhood was, he was the father of humanity after all, he prided himself on the fact that Eve praised him for being such a good father, Adam fully admitted that he had a praise kink which both of his spouses took advantage of, he then realized something, he hadn’t seen Emily all day*

Adam: Where is Emily?

Lucifer: Now that you mention it, she hasn’t left her room at all.

Adam: I hope she isn’t sick.

*after the babies were fed and burped, Adam went to check on Emily, she was frantically running around the room looking at the dresses Adam helped her buy and trying to figure out what wig she should wear or if she should even wear a wig*

Adam: Hey Emmy, are you alright?

Emily: Everything has to be perfect for my date with Satan tonight………… Oh no, you’re going to give him the shovel talk now.

*Adam smirked*

Adam: Yep, I mean what kind of older brother would be if I didn’t. I am the second most powerful being in Hell and mom would be disappointed if I didn’t give him the shovel talk.

*both suddenly got quiet, they still hadn’t heard about what happened to Sera after Emily fell, Lucifer was constantly sending messages to Heaven through Heaven’s Embassy demanding that they give him an answer about the head seraphim and the status of former Sinners who became Winners*

Emily: I still miss mom.

Adam: I do too, remember when I got sick and she bought me Muffin to help me feel better.

*Adam’s favorite giant lion plushie was now also the favorite of his kids*

Emily: Yeah, she also made the best cakes and muffins for us as well.

Adam: I am proud to say those cakes and muffins contributed to my chubby gut that Luci loves so much.

*Adam proudly pat his stomach*

Adam: I do hope you have a wonderful date and I am still going to give Satan the shovel talk.

*at the Vee Tower Vox and Valentino sat on the couch watching Velvette working so frantically*

Valentino: I don’t get why she is so obsessed with making the Queen so happy especially since he played a part in me losing my best star to Heaven.

Velvette: Fashion is everything, fashion is life. Everything Adam wears becomes the next sensation. You will thank me when my outfits earn so much money for us.

Vox: She does bring up a good point, gain the favor of Queen Adam and you are all abound Hell can talk about.

*Valentino just stared at the both of them wondering why they were acting like they didn’t orchestrate a smear campaign against Queen Adam because Manmon and Lilith hired them to, he didn’t care one way or another, he liked being a scumbag that others feared, in fact he thought that his Adam/Alastor porn was his best work yet, it was too bad that the people of Hell didn’t see it that way since they were so obsessed with their pretty Queen sadly Lucifer had ever copy of the porno destroyed aside from the one secret copy Valentino owned which he sadly couldn’t sell because no one dare buy it, well at least he could watch it and pleasure himself to it*

Valentino: You two have fun obsessing over the Queen of Hell, I am going to work now.

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

[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.

[sunsetscurving]

honey, you should see me in a crown [modern royalty AU]

CHAPTER 7 || ao3 link

Lucas Lallemant, crown prince and heir to the throne, never needed someone to protect him. He never needed someone to protect him until the day he nearly got stabbed by an assassin.

Now he has to deal with an annoying bodyguard named Eliott Demaury who is, to the chagrin of Lucas, fucking handsome too.

As if his life hasn‘t been difficult enough already.

Over the next two weeks, nightly walks became their thing. Lucas didn’t bother to hide his little escapes from Eliott anymore, he wanted his bodyguard to know that he left the castle for some precious moments of freedom outside the castle. And if he wasn’t allowed to do this alone, he would drag Eliott with him gladly.

And Eliott seemed to be delighted by it too.

Lucas talked most of the time in the beginning but slowly but surely, something like a friendship developed between them. Eliott opened up, told Lucas about his big brother and how much he wished that he could see him more often. But he was in the army and Eliott was afraid at every waking hour for his big brother to whom he looked up to so much.

“Jacques was one of the reasons why I wanted to be a bodyguard in the first place”, told Eliott Lucas on one of their nightly walks, “I… I also wanted to be brave. To do something that could maybe save a life. That could maybe make an impact how history is written. And although I wouldn’t be the spotlight of this history, I wanted to be part of it, at least…”

And in this moment, Lucas fell in love.

He didn’t want to admit it but the feelings for Eliott had developed more and more over their walks in the middle of the night, where just him and Eliott seemed to be on this planet, where time stood still and only the two of them were moving, two young men who couldn’t be more different from each other.

Lucas had stopped in his tracks and turned around to Eliott after he told him all of this and reacting without thinking, he took hold of Eliott’s hand, the other one looking deeply into Lucas’ ocean-blue eyes.

“You will be in the spotlight. You already are. For me, at least”, Lucas had whispered and Eliott’s lips formed slowly into a smile.

After this night, things were different.

Lucas had the feeling that not only he felt different, that not only he was surer of his feelings but also Eliott. Lucas had the feeling that Eliott actually sought Lucas out to be near him, to spend time with him and not only because his job description said so. And for the first time, Lucas not only felt like a prince but he felt seen. He felt like Eliott could look behind the royal mask of him, that he genuinely cared about Lucas and what he thought and how he felt. Eliott was more than a bodyguard for Lucas after this faithful night where Eliott opened up to him.

He was maybe even more than a friend.

And not only Lucas was happy about this development: Cece was probably the one who profited the most from Lucas’ and Eliott’s upgraded friendship – she had now two people to have a tea party with and Eliott’s laugh whenever they were together with Cece was his highlight of every single day. Eliott seemed to shine brighter than the first weeks of his stay in the castle and Lucas often told himself that maybe he was the reason for his bright smile.

At least he hoped so.

“So, what are you going to do in your free time without the little brat aka me to protect?”

Lucas grinned from the couch where he lay lazily, looking over to Eliott who lounged in a comfortable chair, his tie lose and his suit jacket over the arm rest. This was Lucas’ favourite sight of Eliott – him being relaxed, forgetting about his job for a moment and the both of them just being boys, joking around and laughing.

Eliott laughed and leaned his head back, considering Lucas’ question. Eliott would leave for a little holiday with his parents and his brother tomorrow and Lucas would miss him terribly. He would get some old guard at his side for these few days.

“I’ll have so fucking much time without you commanding me around the whole day”, said Eliott with a grin eventually and Lucas sat up, playful indignation on his face.

“How dare you to speak to your prince like this?”, said Lucas with a played serious tone and Eliott tried to hide the smile on his lips, playing along with Lucas and his little game which he loved to play. All the formalities between them were forgotten whenever they were alone and this was Lucas’ favourite thing about it all – feeling normal without being reminded that he will inherit the throne of his country soon.

“Oh, I beg your pardon, your highness. Please don’t hang me in front of the whole court!”

Lucas laughed and leaned back again, turning his head and tried to memorise Eliott’s face and his laugh so that he could replay it whenever he wanted when Eliott wasn’t around. It was strange how accustomed you could become to someone in such a short time.

“No, but seriously. I will have a lot time to read a book, to talk with my brother till the morning hours, updating each other on the life of the other one and just… enjoy some family time.”

Lucas smiled and nodded, looking at the ceiling now. He didn’t know when he had read the last book or when he had the last family centred holiday and just as Eliott talked about all of this, he realized that he kind of missed it.

“And you?”

Eliott’s voice dragged Lucas out of his thoughts and he looked at Eliott again.

“And me?”

“What will you do without me?”

This is actually a very good question.

“Oh, you know. The princely duties, the masquerade—”

Lucas halted and sat up, looking directly into Eliott’s irritatingly beautiful eyes.

“You’ll be back for the masquerade, right?”

“I’m trying my best.”

“Your best?”

“I’m not sure yet, I—”

“Please, Eliott.”

Lucas stood up now, walking over to Eliott and sitting down on his armrest. They were so close now that Lucas could feel the heat of Eliott’s body radiating off him and Lucas was not sure if the closeness between them was so good right now because Lucas’ thoughts drifted off into a dangerous direction.

“Promise me, that you’ll be there. I cannot do this without you.”

This was another fact that came with their bonding: Lucas kind of felt unsafe without Eliott by his side. Eliott had been there for nearly a month now, always a shadow behind Lucas or next to him, his presence always there and making Lucas feel safe. Safer than in weeks. He knew that no danger could reach him with Eliott by his side. The masquerade would be guarded to the teeth but the anxiety which came with such a big event could only be calmed by Eliott or his little sister.

It’s unbelievable how much I need him.

Eliott looked up to Lucas and laid a hand on Lucas’.

“I’m trying. I really will. Okay?”

Eliott smiled and Lucas couldn’t resist this smile.

“Okay.”

.

It was the evening of the masquerade and Lucas was walking around in his room like a caged tiger.

“Your highness, would you please stand still for a moment?”, asked his dresser and he couldn’t blame the slightly annoyed undertone in her voice. He had been acting like this for the past few hours and when Lucas looked out and saw how many guests already spilled into the castle, he felt sick.

Eliott wasn’t here.

“Could I—Could I have five minutes, please?”

The dresser nodded with a sigh and curtsied.

“But we really need to hurry then, your highness.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

And with this, the dresser left his room. Lucas pulled out his phone and opened the chat between him and Eliott.

lucallemant: where tf are you?

lucallemant: eliott pls

lucallemant: I need you

srodulv: I’m sorry, I cannot make it

Lucas stared at the display, his eyes suddenly burning.

lucallemant: what

srodulv: my flight was cancelled and the next one is leaving tomorrow morning

lucallemant: you’re kidding me, get your ass here

srodulv: I’m not kidding. Please forgive me.

He was not kidding. Lucas could feel it. And although he shouldn’t be angry at Eliott, he was. Eliott knew how unsafe Lucas felt without him and Lucas had hoped that he at least could sneak away with Eliott and maybe dance in secret with him and—

Lucas took a deep breath and looked into the long mirror in front of him.

“I am Prince Lucas Charles Louis Alexandre Lallemant. And I can do everything.”

He would smile tonight. He would dance and he would have fun.

Lucas put on his mask, a delicate half-faced thing in black covered with velvet.

And he wouldn’t think about Eliott.

.

A servant was booming the golden stick against the polished marble floor and thousand of masked faces turned around to that sound. The big hall was decorated with white flowers, the queen’s favourites, and the air smelled like candles, sweet honey from the buffet and… mystery.

“Your majesty, King Alexandre Antoine Raphael Lallemant, his wife, Queen Adalene Celeste Claudette Lallemant, their daughter Princess Cecille Estelle Camille Lallemant and their son, Prince Lucas Charles Louis Alexandre Lallemant.”

Lucas automatically straightened as his name was called into the room and echoed back against the high walls. His father and his mother started to move and so did Lucas and Cece. They floated down the stairs and into the crowd of aristocracy and royalty. Lucas actually hated the silence whenever they entered a room, hated the eyes of so many people on him and the feeling of tripping every second. With Eliott by his side, he would feel surer, better.

You didn’t want to think about him tonight. You survived so long on your own. You can also do it again for one night.

And finally, the music was setting in again and the murmuring of people filled the room. His parents were off to some important people and Lucas took a deep breath. He was kind of glad for all the masks around him, no one could have seen the panic in his eyes and he was very happy about this.

“I really like your mask, Lulu.”

Lucas nearly forgot about his little sister next to him but as she addressed him, a smile spread on his lips. He kneeled down to be on eye-level with her. Today, she was wearing a lilac dress with puffy sleeves and a little tiara was seated on the curls of her blonde locks. She was wearing a tiny fragile mask which only covered the upper half of her face and she looked absolutely adorable. She wasn’t allowed to be that long on the ball but she had begged their mum so long till she agreed to let her go, at least for two hours.

“And I like yours, little princess. You look stunning tonight.”

Cece beamed at Lucas’ words.

“And you look very good, too.”

Lucas knew that Cece meant everything she said and it made him happy to hear his little sister say that. But, today, he had to admit that he really do looked good. He was wearing a burgundy coloured suit which was only made for him and therefor fitted him perfectly. The black mask was colour-coordinated to his black tie and although the outfit was quite simple, it did his effect as Lucas realized that some young women, and young men, turned their head towards him, maybe waiting for Lucas to come over or waiting for the perfect moment to ask him out for a dance.

“Okay, little one”, said Lucas now and turned to look at Cece again. He poked her in the chest, “Don’t eat too much cake, don’t trip on the dresses of other women and please, don’t spill any limo on the marble floor. Mum and dad would be furious.”

Cece giggled and nodded.

“Okay, gotcha.”

And with that, she disappeared between all the people and Lucas lost sight of her. A smile was still playing around his lips and his thoughts slowly drifted back to Eliott, as suddenly something caught his attention in the corner of his eyes.

He turned around and froze.

Someone was coming late and that someone had the attention of the whole court.

Which maybe could be connected to how fucking stunning he looked.

He was wearing a midnight blue suit and a mask which covered his eyes and left his full and smooth lips open where a little smirk was plastered. He was walking down the stairs with the grace of a king and he was wearing a little cape, attached to his suit and coloured in the same midnight blue. His mask, in stark contrast, was white.

And Lucas was totally mesmerized.

He gaped at him with all the others who started to murmur who this could be and why he was late and where he got that exclusive suit. Lucas tore his gaze away for a moment and looked for his parents and Cece but he couldn’t find them.

And because no one dared to walk over to him, Lucas used his status and his chance to weave through the crowd till he stood in front of the stranger. The taller boy sank into an elegant bow and Lucas’ heart automatically started to beat faster.

Which it actually only did around Eliott.

“Your highness”, said the young man quietly and Lucas motioned him to stand up again so he could get lost in his eyes. But the shadow of his mask kind of hid the real colour and Lucas could only see the slight gleam in them. But that was enough for him now.

“With whom I’m having the pleasure to meet with on this masquerade?”, asked Lucas quietly, his voice slightly hoarse. He had the feeling that every single eye pair where on them, even the music had stopped, but the funniest thing was: He didn’t care right now. He suddenly felt sure and safe again and that only because this breath-taking stranger walked into this masquerade and suddenly made Lucas’ evening far more interesting.

The stranger leaned closer to Lucas and Lucas stood still, waiting.

“If I’m telling you my name, then the mystery would be solved and this isn’t the sense of a masquerade, right?”

Lucas smirked and looked into the eyes of the other one while nodding.

“That’s true”, said Lucas while slowly holding out his hand, “Would you dance with me?”

The stranger laid his hand into Lucas’ own and Lucas felt a jolt go through his body, the music was silently playing again in the background.

“It would be a pleasure.”

And so Lucas led them both in the middle of the room and they danced.

And danced.

And danced.

Lucas lost count of how many dances he only did with him. Anyone else who wanted to dance with him was met with an excuse so that Lucas could dance another round with the stranger. They didn’t talk much but that was actually not necessary in the first place. Their touches and their gazes spoke more than thousand words. Lucas was nearly forced by his dad to dance with some other people but he eventually always came back to his mysterious stranger.

As the night wore on and the first people already left, Lucas saw his chance to be alone with him. He took hold of his hand and pulled him out of the hall, into the hallway and towards one of their hundred balconies. Lucas opened the doors and was met with fresh night air. He breathed the air in and looked over his shoulder, smiling at the stranger and indicating him to follow him. Lucas leaned against the balcony parapet, looking down over the palace garden where he took so many walks with Eliott and…

No, he wouldn’t think about Eliott again.

Not when he was here with a beautiful stranger who seemed to be interested in him. And who would maybe be more available to him than Eliott.

“The view his breath-taking”, said the stranger silently now and Lucas watched him from the side, his strong jaw and his profile. He wondered if he was some duke or some lord or even a prince from another country. But his French was perfect, without any accent. He wouldn’t solve this mystery tonight but he was determined to solve it any other day.

“Yeah, it is… I often come here to take a breath between some nightly events here in the castle.”

“I can relate. It must be hard for you.”

Lucas turned around now, leaning against the parapet with his back now and watched the other one carefully.

“Sometimes. But then there are nights like tonight where…”

Lucas had stopped and the other one, of course, realized that.

“Where?”, asked the stranger and his gaze was now landing on Lucas. Lucas bit his lip and couldn’t tore away his gaze from the man in front of him who was literally dipped into the moonlight from above.

“Where I’m meeting special people. Like you”, said Lucas and his voice got quieter with every word till his voice was barely audible, barely a whisper.

The other one started to smile and took another step towards Lucas till he was nearly pressed again the parapet and the tall man in front of him.

“Like me…?”

“Like you…”

Lucas couldn’t calm down his beating heart. He usually was someone who thought a lot about things before doing them. But right now… He only wanted to do one thing. He had the feeling to know this man, to know his secrets and his dreams although Lucas didn’t even know his name. But something about him was achingly familiar.

He felt good around him.

Like he only felt with Eliott.

Lucas tiptoed, his eyes on the lips of the other one.

His heart was nearly jumping out of his chest and he could feel the breath of the stranger on his lips and then their lips nearly brushed and—

“I’m sorry.”

Lucas’ eyes snapped open and he saw how the other one was withdrawing from Lucas, disappearing slowly but surely into the darkness of the hallway, “You deserve better.”

And suddenly, he was gone.

Lucas was frozen but after some seconds, he realized what had happened. He was gone and when Lucas wouldn’t chase after him right now, he would never know his name and never see him again.

“Wait!”, Lucas called out and stumbled after him.

But the hallway was empty.

As if nothing happened.

Lucas blinked, suddenly feeling dizzy.

Maybe none of this happened.

Maybe everything had been a dream.

But if so, it had been a wonderful one.

[noopienoopiernoopiest]

Lead Stars

RATING: General

WORDS: 2,207

DESCRIPTION: “Well, that went over like a lead balloon.”

He wove them out of starlight, out of the fresh fabric of the universe. He cloaked them in the raw satin of time, stitched them together with tungsten and bismuth. He sewed the filaments of temperance and humility together into them.

A/N: I had this idea come and take over my brain, so I wrote it. 

He didn’t have a name, then.  

He only had his task.

Make, SHE said.

He’d barely had time to wonder what SHE meant by ‘make,’ when SHE sighed and pointed to him.

SHE couldn’t be serious.

I am. Make.

⁠—

He had not been made in HER image. Nothing had been. Not yet. Thankfully, not yet.

He’d focused and toiled, such that he could feel the tearing of his form, the rending of his essence, but that essence was so full of light, so full of honeyed hope that it hadn’t really mattered.

He wove them out of starlight, out of the fresh fabric of the universe. He cloaked them in the raw satin of time, stitched them together with tungsten and bismuth. He sewed the filaments of temperance and humility together into them.  

Certainly, SHE was the architect of the universe, the designer, the critic. SHE was the aesthete. But, he was the builder, the seamstress, the craftsman. He was the artist. 

As with any good artist, his first reference was himself. The first ones stood testimony to that.

“SHE is my might,” he said, breathing potassium into his brother’s eyes.

“SHE is my light,” he said, kissing his sister’s face in exaltation, and leaving the gold of his soul there across her cheeks.

“Who could be like HER?” He asked, clasping another sister tightly, her bones infused with the sharp and powerful metals that eventually kings and generals would know of as War. 

SHE was delighted.

More? SHE asked.

He set about to make more of the same, twice as many, four times as much..

No. MORE.

Ah. Alright.

And so, he challenged himself. SHE asked for more. What was more than the beginning? What was more than quicksilver mercury and deep platinum? What was more than ‘Let there be light’? The supernovae?

“Light-bringer,” he said. His brother was indescribable, glorious. Something surely SHE could see was more. He was the prism through which all eternity would be viewed.

SHE was besotted.

From there, his creations diversified. They had to. Light-bringer was beautiful, but only in the way a diamond is. That is to say, glittering and gleaming and aware of its own scarcity.

Angels, they called themselves. GabrielUrielMichaelLucifer.

He was too busy for names.

⁠—

There were a great many by now. SHE was ever eager for more. An army. A legion. 

As he’d designed them, so too had he designed the cosmos.

⁠— 

SHE had not been idle while he crafted. 

SHE showed him the wonderfully delightful plans for an excellent rock. 

Solid, SHE'd explained. Like the blade of Michael's spear, like the brass of the celestial horns.

Make. 

It was tricky, the making of it. He worried SHE would be upset at the molten hot surface, its craggy black skin pulling and bursting where liquid seas of bright orange iron and nickel split it open.

SHE had said solid, and he was fairly certain it would be, given enough time. 

Instead SHE smiled a knowing smile, and Lo, it was. It was in the way that only things ‘were’ when under HER influence, was in a way that was 'all at once' and still, he felt, 'not quite' at the same time.  

SHE needed a star. A lovely star. Mild, inviting. Not terribly difficult. 

He'd crafted it as an afterthought. Helium and hydrogen compressing between his hands. A quick flash of breath and there it was, the corona glowing merrily. 

SHE had been delighted. Earth, SHE explained, nodding toward the rock. And so, SHE'd taken him and shown him the view from the surface. 

Sky, SHE named it. He watched mesmerized as his lovely star moved from the cusp of the world, now stone cold, flashed through its dazzling colors of dawn and then settled into the cool color of tranquility. He closed his eyes and felt the warm brush of the heat of his creation against himself. 

It seemed HER plan had expanded while he'd been busy. Now, there were to be new beings. No, no, SHE needed no assistance in this. SHE would be making these HERSELF… but, SHE would need new beings to shepherd them. New and lovely. SHE loved nothing as much as novelty. 

He thought and thought, designed and redesigned, forged and sewed, sweated, and swore, but nothing, nothing was right. 

He closed his eyes, and again remembered the fresh calm he'd found on Earth. His eyes stayed closed as he felt rather than saw. Faith, SHE would one day call it, but he knew nothing of that, then.

He pulled the copper from his own hair, the liquid carbons from Earth. This being would be their guardian after all, those beings of Earth. He concentrated, and then, yes. Woven through was the wonderful color he'd seen as Sky. Sky was the perfect color for this being. He pulled pure silver and gold from the ichor of his own core and began to weave. 

By the end, it was a tapestry of Sky and Sun and warmth and peace, and he had given it everything he could think of, and yet…

And yet, it was lacking. For the first time, he was confounded. SHE had asked for something beyond his ability. Something he could feel only at the very edges of his being and yet could not produce. This was misery and failure. 

He wished he could see the thought that eluded him, turn it around and view it from all sides. 

And, wasn’t that a thought?

He plucked the nebulae himself, each one chosen with thought and care. Carefully, he placed them like jewels in a crown, settling them into the shining gold and silver as though they had always been there.

“Lovely,” LuciferLightBringer had said. “Lovely, lovely. How extraordinary. A shame to see him go, don’t you think?” His smile had been cold. If he had known the word, he might have said that smile was perverse. 

He’d presented HER with his creation with trepidation. He’d felt none of this for any of the countless others. But this one, this one was different. 

A wonder. A guard. Brave and strong.

It was only at this moment that he paused. 

“To guard what?” He had asked, confused. 

Paradise. Eden. 

“From what?” He had asked. 

Things yet to be known. 

LuciferLightBringer continued to smile. 

⁠—

SHE showed him soon after, the final pieces of HER creation. 

A Garden.

Oh, this was a marvel. This was the universe writ small, each green and floral thing a small nova of its own.  

He loved this garden. It would be a fine place for his latest creation. 

And then, he’d seen them. A hundred feet high and half as thick again. 

Walls. Aren’t they grand? SHE asked. 

No. He looked to his own creations, lovely and spinning out into infinitude. His brothers and sisters were there among the stars he’d made and made them from, one and the same. Free. No, walls seemed...wrong, awful. 

SHE’d paid him no mind as SHE showed him the beings that would live in this walled world. 

They were finely made. He appreciated HER craft. 

They shall live in the Garden. 

“What will they do?” He asked. 

Bask in the glory of ME. Worship. They shall eat of the land, and drink of the streams. They will sleep under the blanket of MY galaxies and rise at the sight of MY sun. 

“What else?” He asked. 

What else is there to want?

Creation, he thought. Beauty. Freedom. Choice. 

And then, he began to understand cruelty. 

They would wonder. They would revel. They would grow curious, curious in a world already perfect, curious in a world absent any need for curiosity. There would be no boundless wonder, there would be no opportunity for more. 

“And the guard…” He said aloud. 

Precisely, SHE praised. Like the Wall. 

He felt sick. His creation, this new thing, this thing he’d woven from himself and the firmament of Earth, he would be used to further confine them, to lock them away. Forever.

It is finished, SHE said. 

He didn’t understand. The beings, the humans, weren’t down there yet. 

Your work. It is finished. 

Finished seemed a terrible word. He didn’t like it. What was he without his work? What was the point.

It is finished. This is final.

He was the first of his kind, but he was not HER. He had been blinded by the promise, the beauty of his task. He’d grown to appreciate HER camaraderie. He had forgotten, or perhaps misplaced, one simple truth. SHE was SHE. He was not. 

It couldn’t be over, and it was. Was in that way that all things were. Was like Earth and Humans and Walls. 

FINAL. 

The command roared, it split the heavens in two. 

“But can’t I⁠—”

ENOUGH. 

It was the violent silence after that gave him cause for concern. 

His brothers and sisters had long ceased doing anything but watching. 

It is time. 

He didn’t have time to wonder before it began. Without explanation, LuciferLightBringer was there, without explanation, LuciferLightBringer was not. 

It was calamity. He watched as they fought one another, watched as more and more of them followed in the way of the glittering star of morning, like comets down and down they fell to the Earth and deeper still. There in the middle of it all was his last creation, nebulae jewels still shrouded in sleep. 

He debated before reaching to his creation and softly, ever so softly brushing it with hand, watched as each of the shifting colored eyes came alive. 

Go. 

How could he? He couldn’t leave this one. He was certain of nothing but this. He was made for so much more.

You’ve no choice.

He wondered, for the first time but not the last, whether a trapped thing could see its cage. He wondered if really there were any difference between him and the humans at all. 

Be gone. Know that no one will know the things you made, no one will know of the things you healed. No one will ever know of Raphael. 

⁠—

He fell for eternities. 

It stopped all at once. 

“You’re needed,” Lucifer-now-Satan said. The sulfur still burned his eyes, but still he beheld Light Bringer. What before had felt like the shining dew of dawn, now felt like the hardened burn of ice. “Isn’t that what you like? To be needed?” 

“I’ve nothing to give,” he said. He couldn’t fathom what needed made, what Lucifer-now-Satan-once-Light-Bringer could want to create, what he would still be able to create now that he was as he was⁠—different, changed. His form was...odd, lower, slithering. 

“Give them doubt. That’s always enough, I’ve found.”

‘Lovely, lovely. How extraordinary. A shame to see him go, don’t you think?’ 

“Besides,” he continued, “You love a question. Don’t you want to give them that?” He asked, one slender, long finger pointing upward. “All those pretty things of which you spoke?”

“I didn’t say those things out loud.” He was certain of that. Wasn’t he?

His bloody mouth twisted into a snarl. “Oh? Are you sure?”

He wasn’t. 

“Go on, Crawley. Get up there and make some trouble.” 

⁠—

“You what!?” He asked. 

“I gave it away!” the angel exclaimed.

Interesting. 

They stood on the wall and watched protected from the deluge by the angel’s wing as Adam and Eve walked farther and farther into the desert, sand clinging to them. 

The rain was letting up now, and the angel lowered his wing again to its resting position. 

“Suppose I should say thank you,” he said. “Difficult thing, though, thanking an angel.” 

“I suppose it is for one of...well, one of your kind,” the angel admitted. “Your wings, though. They remind me of something.” 

“Oh?” he asked, surprised. He’d known. He’d known from the second he’d seen those multicolored eyes who he was, who it was he was talking with. It wasn’t a difficult leap, after all. He waited for the angel to say something, anything. Anything at all to indicate he was aware.

“One of HER creations,” the angel said.

“Yes?” He prompted. 

“I believe Adam named it the ‘Crow.’ Terribly clever birds.” The angel paused for a moment before changing the subject. “Crawley, you said it was?” He asked. 

He nodded, trying with some effort to keep his lip from snarling. He wasn’t sure he’d done a good job of it. Lips were rather new to him. Still, it was only just another name he reviled. Crawley, like something that sniveled, like something helpless. 

“Well, it’s been lovely, but I simply must be going. That hole in the wall surely won’t patch itself,” the angel said, his light eyebrows furrowing.

“Hole?” he asked, again surprised. 

“Mmm, not exactly...well, regulation, I suppose,” the angel said absently before shaking himself back to focus. “At any rate, off I go.” The angel turned to leave and he couldn’t help himself. 

“And your name? What is it?” he called. 

“Oh,” the angel turned and looked surprised at his own rudeness. “Forgive me. I’m Aziraphale. Aziraphale, Angel of the Eastern Gate.”

Aziraphale. 

He waited for the angel to leave, and when he had, Crowley tilted his face to greet the newly emerging sun and smiled.

[wordsandwickedthings]

adventures in mundaneness

a cruel prince fic

warnings: none

after an assassination attempt on Cardans life, Jude is paranoid to leave him alone anywhere. but with the court of shadows going out and unwilling to guard him while Jude goes to the human world, she is forced to take him with her. It's fine, though, they were just going out for a little bit, right?

but no, nothing is ever mundane with Cardan around.

yes, I realize the irony of not posting for a month after saying I should post more frequently.

part 2

Jude first realized how truly shackled to Cardan she was after the first assassination attempt against him. She knew it wasn’t Madoc who arranged it, his warriors' pride wouldn’t have let anyone but himself take Cardan’s life. But she wouldn’t put it past Balekin, an aristocrat to the bone it would be foolish of him – but Jude was starting to think he was desperate enough to be an idiot.

But because of that attempt on his life, Jude was paranoid to leave Cardan alone for even a moment without her or any of the members of the court of shadows.

Jude was supposed to be in the human world in an hours’ time, to visit oak and Vivienne, and the last thing she needed was worrying thoughts of Cardan bothering her the entire time. She couldn’t trust him to keep himself safe for an entire day. Her plan rests at the twisted king’s feet, and to Jude’s dismay, none of the shadows wanted to watch Carden while she went to the human world.

“sorry, Queenie,” the roach told her, “we’re going out gambling and drinking.”

“but he loves to gamble and drink, it’s all he does!”

“he is also the high king, and with that title comes attention we don’t want.”

She huffed, turning a blade in her hand as she thought, “we could shackle him somewhere safe.”

Roach chuckled, “he’d be defenseless, gutted if anyone found him without one of us,” he paused for a moment, “with or without chains.”

She frowns, “no one could find the court of shadows.”

“the question is, are you willing to risk it?” ghost asks her.

The bomb was the only one who looked sort of sympathetic, “sorry.”

She had to drag herself to Cardans room after that, finding a way to force down her pride while she walked too slowly. She stood at the threshold of his’s room, watching him lazily pour wine into his mouth. He was making a habit of dressing down, wearing only a white loose shirt and black pants if he wasn’t being forced to attend something; his tail out in the open, swinging idly.

“You’re coming with me to the human world,” she couldn’t believe she was doing this.

“Excuse me?” he wasn’t looking at her, staring up at the ceiling in what Jude could only call boredom. Two words in and she already wanted to punch him.

“the others are going out, and I need to be in the human world in,” she searched for the time, sighing, “thirty minutes.”

Cardan sat up, “and this concerns me because?” his cheeks were rosy, and his lips were stained red. He was drunk already – great.

Jude leaned against the doorframe, “because there’s no one here to protect you while I’m gone, so therefore, you’re coming with me.” She tried to say it with authority, but by the way Cardan was smirking, it apparently wasn’t convincing.

“No one to protect me or babysit me.”

“pick one,” Jude smiled, all teeth and incredibly fake.

He sneered at her, “Do I look like a child?”

“you act like one.”

He bared out a fake laugh, and Jude had to force herself not to literally growl at him, “I could command you to fallow me.”

It was a thin threat, and Jude knew that; she hadn’t commanded Cardan to do anything unless absolutely necessary since forcing the crown on his head. And since she wasn’t going to force things on him, she had to resort to petty arguing and veiled threats.

Cardan watched her for a moment, his gaze making Jude’s skin crawl in a way she hated. “Do it then, have your fun. But there is no way I’m going to that wretched hole without being dragged.” -- Cardan had sobered up by the time they got to the other world, Vivian waiting patiently with Oak sitting at her feet, Heather absent to Jude’s luck. Cardan was being even more annoying and difficult than his drunk counterpart.

“why is everything so loud!” he had his hands pressed against his ears, the taxi driver giving him a bored look.

“we’re stuck in traffic,” Vivienne looked just as bored, “they’re honking cause their assholes. Like someone else, I can think of.”

Cardan looked over to the front seat to glare at Vivian, someone who was about as pleased that he was here as Cardan himself. “Well they should stop,” he sneered, “why don’t you just make them stop?”

she laughed, “a little out of my mutant power range, princey.”

Cardan smirked when Oak started clapping, chanting, “glamour, glamour, glamour.” Blowing at his brown curls that were pushed into his eyes from the beanie he was wearing. Jude sighed, flicking Cardan in his pointy ear, which he had refused to hide. “You’re enabling him.”

Oak seemed to like Cardan, a fact that drove Jude into insanity. Since they got here Oak had been following Cardan around, mimicking the way he walked and the way he glared at everyone who past him – even though his glares ended in giggling. It doesn’t surprise Jude that Oak was enamored with Cardan; he had a charm to him that, despite his blatant cruelty, drew people to him. Even without the crown on his head, he moved like a king. She hated it and hated him even more because of it.

They had made it clear to Oak that he was going to be king, it shouldn’t surprise her that he would look to one for how to act. It’s a shame it had to be Cardan though. They had decided to go to the mall to stock up on items for Oak, and Jude. Then if they were lucky maybe get food before Cardan does something that irritated Jude so much she might have to abandon him on the side of the road.

When they got out of the cab and Vivienne made the driver leave without them paying, Cardan let out a laugh, locking eyes with Jude.

All of Cardan's smugness dissipated when they got into the entrance, completely replaced by confusion. Every in the building was foreign to him, from the rhythmic beeping of people checking out, to the fact that everyone was dressed in what our world would consider underwear.

People were staring at Cardan as much as he was staring at them. He had put on a jacket before they left, a blue velvety thing with gold running through it like vines; that along with this pointed ears and sharp cheekbones made it impossible not to look at him. Like all fairies, Cardan was beautiful and demanded everyone’s eyes.

Jude didn’t like the feeling in her stomach that came when a group of girls giggled when Cardan smirked at them.

“cool costume, man,” some man said as he walked past them, patting Cardan on the shoulder before walking away.

Cardan eyes shifted, and Jude saw the sudden rage in them. He didn’t lung at the man though, didn’t tare away at him like he did the fairies wings. Instead, he scowled for a moment and schooled his features like he was so used to.

Jude was already by his side by the time, ready to stop him if he did anything stupid. Oh, Cardan had a habit of doing something stupid. Grabbing a fistful of his sleeve, Jude got close so she could whisper in his ear, “don’t make a scene.”

He smirked, “but that’s all I’m good at.”

Jude rolled her eyes, tempted to ignore him.

His features shifted, “a commoner shouldn’t touch a king.”

“you’re not a king here,” Jude reminded him, “you’re barely a king in our world.”

Vivienne coughed, dragging the two’s attention to her, where she was stood with her hands on her hips and her eyebrow raised. “I need to grab Heather from work, you’ll watch Oak right?” she doesn’t look like she wants to leave, maybe it’s because she’s aware that Cardan is unpredictable no matter what, maybe she thought the same thing about Jude. Jude shook that out of her head, she trusted her sister – all that kept her sane is Vivian’s understanding.

Oak gave a nod before reaching his hand out to Cardan, waiting patiently while his uncle stared at it like it was poisonous. Jude watched the awkward exchange for a second before taking Cardan’s wrist – no longer fearing whatever anger he would hold over it – and moving it so Oak could wrap his small hand around it and pull the elder forward. They went to the toy section naturally, Oak running directly to a set of toys underneath a poster of four reptiles with swords and nunchucks. It was his latest obsession according to Vivian, to the point he wanted to take martial arts in the next year – to the delight of the roach.

Oak held up a figuring, “this is Raphael, he’s the best one; he has swords and is big and strong and – and he can be mean sometimes, but he loves his family.” He held up the toy to his older sister, “you can be Raphael.”

Jude swallowed, trying to remain neutral as her heart swelled when taking the toy from her brother, “thank you.”

Cardan was standing off to the side as Oak showed Jude his favorite turtle, not looking board really, more extremely uncomfortable. The look got worse when Oak picked up another turtle figure and held it out to him like it was something precious, “you can be Michelangelo, he’s funny and lazy and loves pizza.”

The older boy stared shocked at the small child in front of him.

Jude was staring too, “Cardan is funny?”

He looked up, glaring at her, but took the toy – curling it around his fingers like it was just as precious as Oak had made it seem.

“which one should Vivi be?” the little boy goes back to the toys.

“are we getting all of these?” Jude asked, moving towards Cardan, seeing the look on oaks face confirmed that statement.

“it’s sad,” she says in a low voice, next to his ear, “that your nephew handing you a doll gives you the same look of panic as me pointing a crossbow at you.”

He scowled, “It’s probably covered in human germs.”

“that’s the best comeback you got, you must be flustered.”

Oak yelled over to them, “Vivi could be Donatello… that doesn’t really fit, I think.”

She turned around to see oak on the floor with toys laid out in front of him, his face twisted in deep contemplation.

“how about we get these turtles and go get food while we wait for Vivienne?”

she watched Oak scoop up the two remaining ninjas. “can I get some nunchucks too?”

Jude sighed, pretending to contemplate, “yes, you can.” Oak laughed, running towards the cash register. The smile wiped off her face when she remembered a crucial detail. Cardan was going to fallow him before Jude tugged at his jacket sleeve, looking between him and the checkout counter. “I may need something from you.”

[lecrit]

I’ve been awake for the past two hours and I couldn’t go back to sleep so I did a thing. Brace yourselves.

Malec AU where Magnus’ high school reunion is coming up and he doesn't want to go because he broke up with his latest boyfriend Imasu just a couple of months ago and everyone knows these events are made so you can throw your success and happiness in the face of people who have no impact left in your life whatsoever. Magnus knows his high school on-and-off-again girlfriend Camille will be there, parading with her stupid football player husband. And yeah, his professional life is going great, thank you very much, but Camille is a snake and if she detects the slightest weakness, she’s going in for the kill.

When he talks about it with his friend and colleague Isabelle, she tells him to ask her brother to go with him. He’s *cough* single *cough* and he and Magnus get along great. Plus, she knows Alec has pretty much been in love with Magnus since the dawn of time (meaning since they met each other a year ago at Isabelle’s annual Halloween party - Alec had made an effort and actually let Isabelle put some kind of skeleton makeup on his face while Magnus had gone all in with a Freddie Mercury costume) because how could one see Magnus Babe and not fall in love at once?

So Magnus lets himself be convinced by Isabelle and asks Alec. He doesn’t need much more than Magnus’ word that he won’t have to dance and that they can just stay in a corner and try to guess what people are lying about to make themselves look better to agree to go.(Although it’s Magnus so the chances of Alec saying no were infinitesimal anyway.)

Alec does ask Magnus why he doesn’t take one of the 17 000 models on his contact list instead because surely that’s bound to make Camille seethe more than taking someone as plain as him?

Magnus just lifts an eyebrow, murmurs something under his breath about buying Alec a mirror for Christmas and that’s the end of that.

They go as friends, because pretending to be dating would be weird, but... well, if people assume they're dating, what's the harm in that? It’s not like they owe anyone a clarification.

The party is going well. Magnus is doing good on his promise. They’re not dancing, and they talked to a few of Magnus’ old classmates (that are not Raphael or Ragnor or Catarina) and Alec only had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at them a couple of times so it’s pretty good considering his low tolerance on bullshit.

That (impressive) accomplishment is forgotten the moment Camille walks up to them, arm hooked with her token husband’s. Her smirk is just feral when they stop in front of Magnus and Alec, her eyes scrutinized them (mostly Magnus, Alec notices, gritting his teeth) like they’re a prey she can’t wait to feast on.

Magnus plays the game just as well as she does, though, and they chat for a minute before Camille’s what’s-his-name husband walks away to fetch her a drink and her whole demeanor changes. She takes a step forward, reaching down so that her fingers brush with Magnus’ and Alec just stands there, dumbfounded that she would have the nerve when 1) her husband literally is in the same room and walked away ten seconds ago and 2) Alec is literally standing right there and everyone they met tonight assumed they were dating and neither Magnus nor Alec bothered to correct them because they figured it added to Magnus’ “my life is better than yours” thing.

But Camille doesn’t seem to care and a lazy but languid smirk tugs at her lips as she purrs about how they should catch up soon, and there’s no doubt about what she means exactly by that.

So Alec does the only coherent thing (or so his brain seems to think) and blurts out, “hey babe, wanna dance?” while grabbing Magnus’ hand and blowing holes into Camille’s skull with his eyes.

No dancing was his number one condition but Magnus didn’t seem to know what to do and Alec might have been a little tiny super small bit jealous so he takes no responsibility for the words that came out of his mouth. Magnus nods, a smirk pulling the corner of his lips up.

“Oh, so we’re dancing now,” Magnus murmurs teasingly as he lets Alec guide him to the makeshift dance floor, before channeling his best Alec voice. “I’ll go to your stupid prom but I won’t dance, Magnus, not even if it’s a life or death situation. I don’t care.”

“Just put your hands on my waist and shut up,” Alec grumbles.

“Back to Magnus, uh? Shame.”

Alec blushes and clears his throat. He steps on Magnus’ foot and no matter what Magnus can think, it is 100% accidental.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, ducking his head to stare at their feet. “I-I just... can’t dance. Never liked proms.”

Magnus snorts, if only to hide how much he wants to kiss that stupidly adorable man right then. “For the millionth time, darling, this is not a prom. And that’s okay, I’m sure you spent your prom making out with your gorgeous date while you waited to be crowned king.”

Alec frowns, shaking his head. “I didn’t go to my prom. I hate balls. Or anything remotely resembling. So I never went to one."

Magnus‘ eyes widens as he stares at him, shock written plainly on his features. "What?!"

Alec shrugs. "I knew I would have to go alone or with either my baby sister or brother, and how lame would that have been? Plus, it’s not like there was anyone who caught my interest in high school."

Magnus gasps dramatically this time. “Does that mean you didn’t do all the fun rule-breaking stuff you’re supposed to do with your crush in high school?” he asks, not unkindly. “Like sneak into tiny janitor’s closets or behind the benches during physical education to actually practice physical education instead?”

"No. I went to school to learn stuff and get good grades,” Alec deadpans. "And I was captain of the football team and the debate club so I didn’t have time for that."

“That’s just unacceptable, Alexander,” Magnus heaves out, shaking his head exaggeratedly. “You need some bad influence in your life. Someone’s gotta stray you away from the good path. I volunteer as tribute. It’s a hardship but someone’s gotta do it.”

Alec snorts, rolling his eyes, and is about to reply when he spots Camille storming off their way.

“Did you have a hiding spot to avoid the wrath of a pissed off teacher?” he asks, biting on his bottom lip. “Because we might need it right about now.”

Magnus glances over his shoulder to see Camille slither her way through dancing couples to get to them.

“What did you do?”

Alec puts on his best innocent face. “I may or may not have texted Ragnor about what happened earlier and he may or may not have taken the opportunity of being at the bar at the same time as her dumb husband to let it slip that she tried to get into your pants. Oops.”

Magnus stifles a laugh and tries to throw him a scowling glare but fails epically. So when he spots Camille approaching dangerously from the corner of his eye, he grabs Alec’s hand instead and leads him out of the room and into his high school corridors.

They run out of there, giggling, and Magnus feels like a teenager again, and the way his stomach is fluttering at the feeling of Alec’s palm against his own is just one of the reasons why.

He takes Alec to the gym, where he knows a perfect spot beneath the benches where he used to sneak to skip class and smoke a cigarette. Except Magnus wasn’t quite as tall, or his shoulders quite as broad, when he was a teenager and Alec is taller and pretty well-built himself so the space they have to share ends up being small enough that personal space becomes a foreign notion.

Alec doesn’t seem to mind, a wide grin splitting his face as they catch their breaths. He stares at Magnus for a while, blinking, before he looks away to survey their surroundings.

"So... you and your friends came here to smoke?" he asks, pointing a finger at the cigarettes butts on the ground. Those things never change.

“Among other things,” Magnus retorts with a teasing smirk.

“Like what?"

And Magnus just throws him a pointed look, because he knows Alec is innocent when it comes to breaking rules and typical teenagerness but... “Really, Alexander?”

And Alec throws him back the exact same look. “Yeah, really,” he huffs out,something flickering in his eyes that Magnus can’t possibly miss with how close they’re standing. “Are you gonna kiss me or what?”

So Magnus does just that, chuckling while he leans in. And it definitely feels like being a teenager again - with much more skill and chill (who is he kidding? He loses all chill as soon as Alec nips at his bottom lip when Magnus grips his hair just a bit too hard.)

And when Magnus is very comfortably settled between Alec's legs, one hand flat against the burning skin of his back while the other works on unbuttoning his shirt, someone coughs and they jump apart, cheeks flushed and panting.

Alec almost has a heart attack.

Ragnor is leaning against the wall a few feet away from them, arms crossed nonchalantly.

"Really, Magnus? A thousand years have passed and you're still hooking up with pretty boys under the benches? Predictable."

Magnus glares at him, but makes no move to entangle their bodies.

“Really, Ragnor? A thousand years have passed and you’re still making a point of ruining my life? Predictable.”

Ragnor smirks, sipping his beer and just turns to walk away. “We’re going to the Hunter’s Moon so we can hang out with people we actually like and that we’ve seen somewhere other than our Facebook feed in the past ten years,” he calls over his shoulder. “We’ll wait for you guys in the lobby. Please be wearing clothes.”

Magnus shows him one particular finger and turns back to Alec, who has gone utterly quiet. His cheeks are bright red with embarrassment and he’s chewing on his bottom lip, his tongue darting out every now and then as if he can still taste Magnus.

“Alexander?” Magnus calls out softly, his fingers gliding in his hair at the back of his head.

Alec hums, blinking out of his stupor as he glances back at Magnus.

“You’re not... having regrets, are you?”

Alec seems positively offended. “How could I—“ but he doesn’t finish, shaking his head. “I was just thinking that this place smells and is kinda gross and it really sucks as far as first dates go so maybe we could actually go out properly some day soon? Like grab dinner and maybe catch a movie?”

Magnus smiles. “I’d love that.”

“Good.” Alec smiles back. “Great.”

And they just stand there for a while, still tightly pressed to each other, until Magnus clears his throat, jerking his head toward the exit. “We should go. They’re waiting for us.”

Alec hums, eyes riveted on Magnus’ lips. “But what if Camille is still in the corridors looking for us?”

The corner of Magnus’ lips turn into a smirk, and he makes a show of craning his neck. “You’re right, I think I just heard her,” he lies.

Alec nods, licking his lips. “We should wait five more minutes. For safety, of course.”

Magnus nods back. “For safety. But that doesn’t mean we have to be bored while we wait for the threat to go away. Any idea on how to spend this time?”

“A few,” Alec replies in a breath, and kisses him again.

Fin.

[pepperbox]

Tell me about your DnD campaign? My group is on a hiatus so I'm living vicariously through other people :(

THE WORST we just came off a month hiatus from the main game, tho last month we were doing slayers take style sessions w/ the party split while we did bounty hunting things

it’s the phoenix fields!! i post some stuff on my art blog @hydrae and there’s a tumblr our dm made @thephoenixfields that has inspo, occasionally session summaries, all that jazz

THE PCS bc why the heck not

sariel is a sun elf from a magically closed off elven city called alanar, who HAD been a wizard once upon a time but one night she sort of. exploded. literally. and awakened as a (homebrew class) fury, tho she still doesn’t know wtf that is. she ran away from home and eventually met the rest of us losers. we ended up heading to alanar for help dealing w/ a revenant problem we kiiiinda had and she reunited with her family. she was named grand enchantress while we were there but not without losing her mentor in the process :( sariel felt abandoned by the sun elf god corellon larethian, but while in alanar and then in the northdark, she started having visions of corellon (and lolth’s) daughter eilistraee, who eventually blessed her. sariel now prays to her and we’re all kinda EYES EMOJI at where it’s going. during their slayers take games, sariel, julian & rowan went back to some woods called the northern wilds that she has some Bad memories in aaaand the fury side to her took over?? so that was a thing. julian punched it. it liked it. WELP. but sariel is basically the leader of our group of disasters and everyone kinda looks to her a lot for what to do

julian is a human rogue who’s an absolute disaster. OKAY BUT NO REALLY he’s gr8. the party doesn’t know much about him yet, except for sariel which was sparked by her finding a wanted poster for him 👀👀👀👀 julian’s from a city called gilead, the same city with the bounty on him from the count, rhys, who julian has some History™ with. sariel found out that someone (rhys) carved a binding rune into julian’s chest, and that someone he cares about (a woman named isolde) is in the shadowfell. julian became the accidental AND VERY RELUCTANT dad to the group, who tends to reel sariel back from just murdering people who piss her off lmao. he tries to be broody and sad but he’s also super weak to fen and rowan–which was unfortunate when dominate person was used on him and compelled him to nearly kill fen, it’s cool it’s fine. also fun fact he’s super bad with animals and has failed every single animal handling check. help him

rowan is a lightborn human life cleric of pelor, lightborn being a variant where she is. very glowy. also when she’s killed, she automatically casts heroism around her and comes back at 1 hp. SHOUTOUT TO THE FIRST TIME THIS HAPPENED AND SHE DIDN’T TELL US, SO WE SAW HER STAB HERSELF SO SHE’D GIVE US ALL THE BUFF BEFORE A FIGHT AND WE WERE JUST LIKE UM!!!!! /BREATHES it’s fine it’s cool. but rowan is a good egg and also the only lawful good one in our band of chaotics and neutrals. she’s super empathetic and second guesses herself a lot esp when we’re being uh. us. had a Time in the northdark bc she couldn’t reach pelor down there. oh and also? first one of us to die for real. sariel and julian of the main crew were the only ones there, but so was the (former) thief king raphael, an npc we helped (and crowned!) during our first quest who rowan had a small thing?? with. THEY BROUGHT EACH OTHER BACK FROM THE DEAD AND KISSED, IT WAS A WHOLE THING. has a loaded dice from nemo that he gave her so she wouldn’t forget him

fen is a human druid–mostly. she’s from a place called the witchcombe and left home after a freaky dream that she eventually found out was of tharizdun. gods kept popping up in her dreams and she found out through sariel’s mentor that her mind is basically an open window, and told her about some monks of ioun in the desert who’d be able to help her close herself off again. things got bad in the northdark tho ‘cause they down there for a WHILE, and tharizdun marked her apparently bc he’s a dick so now she’s just kinda giving off his aura. cool. he gifted her a dagger for her to use for a shiny new (homebrew) class called avatar (not that one), so that’s fun. also fen has an accidental Thing w/ a revenant named salome that was risen for the purpose of raising tharizdun. TURNS INTO A DIRE WOLF 99% OF THE TIME, 1% CAT WHEN SHE WANTS TO ESCAPE A CONVERSATION. also fen has holes in her memory for?? some reason???? has no clue if it’s due to the god fuckery or something else. has the bag of holding and is a magpie. also can’t stealth for shit despite having a +3 dex modifier, why

nemo is a human umbramancer who we know literally NOTHING about except that he’s a disaster and he revealed as a trade of secrets that he doesn’t have a shadow and he’s “cursed.” he didn’t deign to mention that he makes people forget him, which ONLY rowan just found out (rowan, sending to an npc from a past city: hey do you know nemo?/ them: who?? / rowan: K!!!!). we also don’t know that nemo himself has no memories, yikes!! for magic reasons, nemo also uh. did a ritual to remove his own eyes. for new powers. he kept casting minor illusion on himself to make his eyes look normal literally until he was forced to explain why he had a pair of eyes in his pocket, THANKS NEMO (he’s not actually blind tho, he uses his new shadow powers to see, cool cool). nemo tried trading his eyes to the raven queen to get her to help us but since they were something he’d given up already and were meaningless, it just ticked her off. nemo gave her the memory of his brother linus instead bc it’s all he had and none of the party knows this :( during a side quest with fen, they fought a lord of hell named sammael who could tell what was done to him??? nemo also has a sort of not really boyfriend named lysander, a cleric of the raven queen. THE TRULY STEALTHY ONE OF OUR PARTY, TRIES TO CRIME BUT HECKS IT UP A LOT. has a mace with bees in it, has been described as “horny eldritch raccoon boy” 

[tipsycad147]

Discover your Tarot birth card in the Major Arcana

Posted by Michelle Gruben on Jun 19, 2019

If you have a birthday, then you have a birth card in the Tarot. (Actually, you have three—but this article focuses on the birth cards in the Major Arcana.) Learning your birth card(s) can provide insights about your personality and life's path and enhance any readings you perform for yourself.

The twelve birth cards (the zodiacal Trumps), are distributed throughout the Major Arcana (interspersed with the planetary and elemental Trumps). They appear in the same order as the zodiac signs, beginning with Aries. These correspondences were inherited from the 19th century Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. But zodiacal images in early European decks suggest that they are probably much older—perhaps as old as the Tarot itself.

Finding your birth card among the Major Arcana is easy—just use your sun sign and our handy guide (below):

If your sign is Aries (March 21-April 19), your birth card is The Emperor.

Bold and ambitious Aries finds its Tarot match in the Emperor. “Bah”-ssy Aries is happiest when he gets to be in charge of everything—just like the Emperor, who's an absolute peach until the peasants start grumbling.

Those born under the sign of the Ram won’t hesitate to butt heads to protect what’s his. His aggressive side comes from his ruling planet Mars, and his Fiery nature. Notice how the Emperor, even in a state of repose, is wearing his armour? His robe is red and his breastplate is iron—Mars’ colour and metal, respectively.

The Emperor is usually authoritative, responsible, and beneficent. But poke his weak spots and he turns into a nasty tyrant.

Waite was winking at the Aries connection when he decorated the Emperor’s throne with rams’ heads. He also placed the Emperor’s throne high on craggy cliffs, the kind of landscape on which bighorn sheep love to strut.

If your sign is Taurus (April 20-May 20), your birth card is the Hierophant.

Taurus follows Aries in the zodiac, the cocky energy of the Ram giving way to the docile strength of the Bull. Tarotists associate the Hierophant with tradition.  In Renaissance decks he’s called The Pope.  Arthur Edward Waite chose to rename this card the Hierophant, an obscure term that he stumbled across in his studies of Ancient Greece. A hierophant was the chief priest of the Eleusinian Mysteries—a high initiate who preserved the sacred tradition and passed it on to aspirants.

Powerful and dignified, the Hierophant is loyal to the powers above him and expects loyalty from those below. In esoteric Tarot, the Hierophant forms a bridge between the physical world and the divine. Though he represents profound spiritual forces, he’s fully rooted in the mundane. Think of the bovine, a big stinky animal that is sacred in several religious traditions.

The Hierophant may represent a mentor or teacher. But like everything else associated with Taurus, the proliferation of the Hierophant’s wisdom is slow.  (Cows usually only have one calf at a time, and spend a long time carrying and nursing their young.)  He can represent initiation, but this is not the kind of initiation brought upon by a cataclysm or epiphany.

Taurus, an Earth sign, is quirkily ruled by Venus—and there is a hint of Venusian luxury in the Hierophant’s rich garments and sumptuous interior of his palace.  Taureans are creatures of habit and take comfort in the familiar. The Hierophant can signal that someone is (or should be) following an expected method or routine. At best, he’s steadfast, dutiful, and of a serene and generous nature.  On the downside, he's rigid, authoritarian, and just plain stubborn.

If your sign is Gemini (May 21-June 20), your birth card is The Lovers.

If Taurus is the stolid elder proclaiming, “This is the way it is,” then Gemini is the youthful upstart asking, “But why?” Indeed, the Rider-Waite version of this card depicts the prototypical rebels, Adam and Eve, just moments before their curiosity introduces them to the point of a flaming sword.

We don’t usually think of Adam and Eve as twins (because then we’re all inbred—ew) but of course they are. They have the same parents (God and God), and thanks to that rib, they share the same DNA.  Twins symbolise duality—unity divided into a pair of opposites. The zygote is split into two separate beings.  Hence, mythical twins illuminate contrasts: Adam and Eve (male and female), Apollo and Artemis (sun and moon), Castor and Pollux (immortal and mortal).

All human interactions are really variations on the twin myth, an exploration of sameness and difference between souls. There’s a point in any friendship or relationship when you realise that you and the other person are similar enough in language, in background, and in temperament that you can understand one another—and also different enough that there’s something new to be learned from the exchange.  That’s the definition of communication, the ruling function of Gemini.  Gemini is an Air sign ruled by Mercury, and we get a few hints in this Trump: The airy clouds and peaks, the angel (which is presumed to be Raphael), and the coiled serpent which recalls the caduceus of Mercury.

In addition to communication, the ever-versatile Lovers card relates to decisions (from Latin, “de-” and “cis-,” to separate and cut) and love relationships.  When well-aspected, it speaks of harmony, adaptability, and magnetic attraction.

If your sign is Cancer (June 21-July 22), your birth card is The Chariot.

At first glance, there's not much in this image that relates to Cancer.  The Chariot is one of the most complicated cards in the entire deck.  Its symbolism is complex and arcane—a lot like Cancer, which always plays its cards close to its chest.

Speaking of the chest, in traditional astrology Cancer rules the area of the chest.  Our charioteer wears a sturdy breastplate, protecting the tender heart within.  He has spiky shoulder armour and fin-like gauntlets. He’s encased in a car that he takes with him wherever he goes. A moat or river is behind him, a reference to Cancer’s watery home.

Like the crab that skitters nimbly from earth to water, the Charioteer bears the livery of both a priest and a warrior. He’s crowned with an elaborate headdress and canopied by the night sky. Magickal symbols adorn his apron. Cancer is ruled by the moon, and two yellow crescents adorn his shoulders. The black and white sphinxes yoked to the Chariot recall the black and white pillars in that other lunar Trump, the High Priestess.

Divinatory meanings for the Chariot vary widely, but he can often signal success, self-reliance, and internal drive. When he’s feeling crabby, The Chariot may be withdrawn, inert, directionless, or just too damn deep for his own good.

If your sign is Leo (July 23-August 22), your birth card is Strength.

Oh, Leo!  The sign of Leo encompasses the strength and willpower of the lion, combined with the beauty and charm of the maiden.  No wonder Leo gets stuck on its own reflection.

The noble lion, king of the beasts, purrs beneath the gentle caress of a golden-tressed lady.  Summer flowers encircle her.  A lemniscate crowns her head (as it does the Magician’s) suggesting her command of natural forces. Leo is ruled by the Sun, so it’s fitting to find these two basking in a sunny meadow.  Distinct from the pure solar energy of the Sun card, Strength is really about self-possession—directing your passions and life force toward constructive ends.

Strength, and its zodiacal counterpart Leo, shine with enormous grace, charisma and strength of heart. If all that goes to its head, Strength is vain and wilful enough to be downright obnoxious.

If your sign is Virgo (August 23-September 22), your birth card is The Hermit.

The sign of Virgo is supposed to be represented by a beautiful young woman, and instead, in the Tarot, we get this old dude.  Huh?  Did he retire to the mountaintop after 80 years of failing to get laid?

The word “virgin” connotes purity—sexual purity, to be sure, but also insularity. When the alchemists talked about a virgin substance, they meant that it had not been contaminated or corrupted by contact with other materials or forces.  The Hermit is a paragon of moral integrity. He’s seen the ways of the world, but they have not swayed him from his purpose and quest.  Nor has he “married” himself to any institution, person, or ideology. Like the proud maiden Virgo, the Hermit doesn't need nuthin' or nobody in order to understand himself and the ground on which he stands.

The lamp of the Hermit symbolises his penetrating powers of observation.  Reason and experience are his guiding light.  Like his ruling planet Mercury, the Hermit is a wanderer.  Like the ever-skeptical Virgo, if the truth is out there, the Hermit will find it.

The Hermit at his best is independent, practical, and uncommonly wise.  If his slippers happen to be chafing him, he can be impatient, grumpy, short-sighted, and prudish.

If your sign is Libra (September 23-October 22), your birth card is Justice.

In her left hand, Lady Justice holds the scales, the symbol for the sign of Libra.  The sword she raises with her right hand represents her ruling elemental of Air (and there’s that yellow backdrop again). Everything about the image suggests symmetry and balance, from the sturdy stone pillars to the woman’s perfect pageboy haircut.

This card governs both words and actions, and the places where they meet:  Legal systems, contracts and oaths, truth and consequences.  Just like her astrological counterpart, hyper-competent Libra, Justice knows how to be judge, jury, and executioner.  She’s wise and articulate, to be sure, but she won’t hesitate to wield that sword when the time comes.

Tarot hacker Aleister Crowley called this trump Adjustment and nicknamed it “The Woman Satisfied.” As an Air sign ruled by Venus, Libra is kinky for justice—she takes pleasure in fairness, pleasure in duty. Her satisfaction comes from the keenness of her observation of the laws of the universe. Martin Luther King, Jr. said,“The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” Justice can afford to be patient, because she can see the entire arc and calculate its curve.

Like Libra, the energy of the Justice card is precise, impartial, perceptive, and canny.  But come down on her bad side and she can be cold, pedantic, and just a little bit ruthless.

If your sign is Scorpio (October 23-November 21), your birth card is Death.

The goddess Gaia once ordered a scorpion to go and attack the enormous giant Orion, and it did. That’s Scorpio for you: Reckless, prone to violence, and surprisingly easy to manipulate. (Just kidding, Scorpio. Love you forever, okay?)

The predatory scorpion aligns with Death in its stealth and appetite (scorpions can eat a year’s worth of food at a single meal). In Renaissance decks, the curve of Grimmy’s scythe echoes the curve of the scorpion’s tail. In Rider-Waite, we see a skeletal horseman whose segmented armour resembles the creature’s exoskeleton, and whose sabaton (metal boot) tapers to a barb-like point.

Scorpio is the most turbulent and intense of the Water sign. Traditional astrology holds that Scorpio is ruled by Mars, while modern astrologers fob it off on Pluto.  Appropriately enough, the Death card signals flux and termination—and all the emotional upheaval that goes along with that. Scorpio is prone to sorrowful wallowing and ruinous rampages. Scorpio loves drama, and what could be more dramatic than the final curtain?

The energy represented by the Death card is powerful, decisive, and tinted with a darksome allure.  On the flipside, it can be morbid, destructive and extravagant.

If your sign is Sagittarius (November 22-December 21), your birth card is Temperance.

This one seems like a bit of a stretch. Sagittarius is the Archer, and a Fire sign—and here we have a watery image with no arrows in sight. But wait! Is that a Fire triangle emblazoned on the angel's gown? Could this be Michael, the Archangel of Fire?  Must be—but today he's put his flaming sword aside and taken up the cups.

The Fire of Sagittarius is mutable—that is, it’s the most capable of being mixed with or brought into harmony with other elements. The word “temperance” itself suggests the controlled use of Fire.  One definition of temperance is using alcohol in moderation. Water mixed with wine lessens the burn of alcohol and dampens the destructive power of drunkenness. In culinary language, to temper a sauce is to heat it slowly so that the heat doesn't destroy delicate flavors and textures.

Another meaning of temperance is the harmonious union of opposites. Thus we see an angel engaged in the nearly impossible task of blending Fire and Water into a perfect elixir. Crowley renamed this card Art—art being, of course, the fusion of skill with imagination. This, too relates to Sagittarius. The Archer is often represented as a centaur, half man and half horse. The Archer's arrow and bow—each useless on their own—come together to make a formidable weapon.

Waite, always the sneaky one, worked in one more obscure reference to this Trump's zodiacal ruler. At the angel's feet are two irises. The iris is named for the Roman goddess of rainbows, and the rainbow, in Hermetic Qabalah, is a symbol related to the sign of Sagittarius.

Like most Sagittarians, Temperance is all about balance, transformation, artistic endeavours, positive growth, and dynamic equilibrium. He's usually gentle and composed, but if he screws up his measurements, Temperance is imbalanced and impatient.

If your sign is Capricorn (December 22-January 19), your birth card is The Devil.

After all the effortless moderation of Temperance comes the Devil, a card of overindulgence.  Alas for Capricorn, the Devil is usually read as a pretty negative card. It doesn’t have to be that way, though. Like Lucifer himself, Capricorn chafes under authority and yearns to be self-governing. With their Earthy combination of shrewdness and patience, those born under the sign of Capricorn can achieve almost anything they set their minds to.

Capricorn is the sign of the Goat, and the Devil has the hairy thighs, goatee, and curved horns of a billy goat. Waite modelled his Devil on Eliphas Levi's famous image of Baphomet, but its roots are much older. The association of goats with the infernal goes back to the Middle Ages, when the pagan images of Pan and the satyrs were subsumed into Christian iconography.

The goats, with its lustful behaviour and voracious appetite, has long symbolised vice. The Devil bears an inverted pentacle on his brow, which can represent the subjugation of Spirit in favour of the material world. On his raised right hand is the glyph for Saturn, the planetary ruler of Capricorn.

The Devil represents an extreme version of Capricorn's natural ambition and practicality. Usually it speaks of ignorance, bondage, materialism, and excess.  In a better light, it can signify freedom, wilfulness, and the integration of human and animal natures.

If your sign is Aquarius (January 20-February 18), your birth card is The Star.

Aquarius is the sign of the water-bearer, and the star maiden in this trump is certainly a tall drink of water.  It's one of the most beautiful cards in almost any deck. The water-bearer of the Star is nude, reflecting Aquarian innocence and integrity. Among the classical planets, Aquarius is attributed to calm and cautious Saturn, while modern astrologers grope for Uranus.

Aquarius is an Air sign with a watery inclination, our damsel kneels among the stars with just her toes dipped into the stream below. The libations she carries quench the thirst and nurture the spirit. One jug empties into the ground, and the other returns the water to its source.

The Star embodies the Aquarian virtues of hope, compassion, communality and abundance. Ill-aspected, it's still a fairly positive card, but can suggest shallowness or resistance to joy. Aquarians are natural people-pleasers, and the Star card can be a reminder to take care of your own emotional needs, too.

If your sign is Pisces (February 19-March 20), your birth card is The Moon.

The twin fish of Pisces would certainly feel at home in this puddly landscape.  Akin to the dreamy, mutable sign of Water, the Tarot Moon hovers over the unconscious and the unknown.  In traditional astrology, Pisces is ruled by lucky, hedonistic Jupiter—but modern astrology assigns it to the chilly outlying planet Neptune.

Every creature in this card is high on instinct and drunk on moon-dew.  Swimming through a humid, hypnotic atmosphere, they throb and sway to the moon's tidal pull. It speaks of issues and desires that can’t be logically resolved, or even fully expressed.

When it’s well-aspected, the Moon dispenses the Piscean blessings of subtlety, intuition, imagination, and adaptability. If a bad Moon is rising, it’s unreliable, distant, and treacherous. The words “fishy” and “flaky” were invented to describe what happens when Pisces energy goes awry.

Using Your Birth Cards

Much like your astrological chart or name or other personal details, your Tarot birth card can point to hidden truths about your spiritual path and life’s work. If you’re open to its messages, studying your birth card will give you additional insights as you work with the Tarot.

When your birth card appears in a reading, you may take that as an additional sign that the reading is speaking directly to you. If your birth card particularly resonates with you, you may even choose to use it as a significator in readings or adopt it as a personal symbol.

Other divinatory functions of the birth cards: Stay alert for moments when one or more of the twelve birth cards represent other people in your life. For example, an Aries/Libra relationship could be expressed by the appearance of the Emperor and Justice cards. You can also use the zodiacal correspondence to get a clue on the timing of future events. Drawing the Strength card, for instance, suggests that the event will happen during the month of Leo.

https://www.groveandgrotto.com/blogs/articles/discover-your-birth-card-in-the-major-arcana