#also i have seen too much art of them looking cool and good

[bizarreandjarring]

just an old hick goin' fishin

plus kim "i am winning at fishing. something which is both normal to want and possible to acheive" kitsuragi

ref

[cozylittleartblog]

Columbo and the Knight (1984)

put me in the universe where Columbo ran through the 1980s and had a crossover episode with Knight Rider. I think they deserved it, and I am not just saying that because they're my two favorite Old Shows. @telebeast wrote a little fanfic blurb about it and I HAD to visualize it into a comic (which is also the longest comic I have finished thus far at five pages...), so writing credit goes to them.

Autism W!

[devotedlystrangewizard]

oh no i have been caught by the imagining-my-ocs-in-a-visual-novel disease

[astrow1zar6]

Astro Observations- 38

Aries suns with Scorpio moons can be big adrenaline junkies. They need to do something dangerous that makes them feel alive. They can be extreme sometimes such as fast driving, mixing substances ect. They don’t feel like they’re living if they aren’t experiencing enough intensity. They should learn to focus this energy in healthier ways such as maybe exercising and sports.

Pisces Mercury’s often did art to express their emotions when younger. I’ve seen Pisces Mercurys who struggled to logically explain how they feel so they would draw or make crafts to show what they were feeling. Their emotions a lot of the times are too complex and intense to explain with only words. They work better with visuals. They could’ve also been better visual learners compared to people giving straightforward instructions when in a classroom setting (they are usually very imaginative).

Mars in Scorpios can have a hard time keeping friends and partners because of how intense they can be. When hurt they can say some really scary fucked up things that can make people want to distance themselves away. ESPECIALLY when they get jealous. They can be super cut throat with their words.

Taurus Venus’s usually came from households where they were exposed to really good food. Either they had enough money in their childhoods to afford high quality ingredients or they came from a family who cooked a lot. This can cause them to be natural cooks themselves. Usually indulged a lot as a child.

Aquarius suns either give IT girl/boy too cool for you vibes or they’re complete weirdos with a school shooter vibe no in between.

I believe Taurus suns are way more jealous than Scorpio suns

Leo moons tend to be the most awkward Leo placement. They have this dorkiness about them which most people don’t expect but I’ve seen it a lot. They can also be very childishly dramatic about very minor problems. Any little inconvenience is seen as a tragedy. However they usually are extremely talented in one area (usually art related) I’ve seen a lot of musicians and drama kids have this placement.

I’d love to have a Sagittarius moon yall seem like you generally don’t give a f*ck what people think and I’m here for it. Such a happy moon sign. However your good vibes 24/7 attitude can make others believe you’re insensitive or shallow.

I notice a lack of fire in the chart can cause a person to go into depression easier. It’s harder to be optimistic.

Venus in 2nd house isn’t just about being rich it also has to do with self esteem as well! When these people are really on the right path they can live such a favorable life! These are the girls you see on YouTube who’s morning routine is waking up at 6, eating a balanced breakfast, moisturize and exfoliate and exercise all before 8 lmao. Usually they don’t start making good money until they fix their self worth but once they do it’s like they flow with the universe without much obstacles. But when struggling with your self esteem you can become bad with your money and be very greedy and jealous of others success so be careful!

Venus in 7th house people are so lucky with relationships. It’s like they just slide into romantic relationships so easily & naturally. So many people want to cuff them up it’s insane. They tend to get along with a lot of different personalities. Very diverse people which attracts people to them like magnets. However, they can be very codependent and do poorly when alone.

Pisces suns are either extremely wise or super foolish and immature. They also always look like they don’t know what’s going on whether they actually do or really don’t😭 even if they are listening to everything your saying it looks like they have nothing going on in their minds like they got a lobotomy lmao (sometimes tho they really don’t know what’s going on, especially Pisces mercs)

Mercury in Capricorns are normally super smart. Street wise and book wise. They can come off as intimidating tho sometimes because of how intelligent they come off. They also have a vibe that can lowkey make people feel unwelcome like you’re too dumb to talk to them💀 (similar to cap risings). They tend to surround themselves with people older/more mature than them they can really get put off but younger acting energies.

Sag risings can be SOOO loud. Especially when they get excited or drunk.

Having a Sun in Aries and a Cancer moon seems like the most difficult sun/moon placements to have together. You have this tough exterior and such a vulnerable interior that no one knows about so people usually treat you harshly not knowing it’s really hard for you to take that☹️ also struggles a lot with being vulnerable to anyone.

Every Pisces Mars woman I’ve ever met was so dazzling to look at. They have such an ultra feminine nature that’s almost ethereal.

[crystalliumdaisy]

redesigning star dresses part 2!

part 1

notes and individuals are below!

virgo ~

- really wanted to step away from that sexy maid aesthetic. my goal was to mix maid with a princess silhouette to reference virgo’s nickname for lucy.

- so i added elements of cinderella’s look like the side fabrics, choker and longer dress.

- using just black is so boring so i brought in some pink and chose to instead use greys

- so many lucy dresses have pigtails so changing the hair also has a more practical element because it’s pulled away.

~ scorpio

- I actually love the og scorpio dress. It’s so different to all the other looks and so easy to distinguish that it’s scorpio.

- i wanted to play into a trackstar / athlete look just so it has an aesthetic that stands out. i also used shapes found in scorpios tail and neck frill in her armour and top.

- i absolutely love the new hair, i wanted it to resemble a scorpion tails! Also just was bored by the normal head band and u know what why not do a cutest bow.

~ sagittarius

- my least fav og dress is is sag. the colour, the lack of shade range and the outfit is just…. yer not cute.

- so i was inspired by more fantasy archers and sag’s colours are screaming cool earthy ranger.

- i think the final result much better resembles sag in the colours and aesthetic.

~ capricorn

- this luxus bad girl moment and i love it. The og one is pretty good but i wanted to fully push it more.

- there’s strands of hair coming out of her bun to resemble horns and belt to resemble a tail.

- the og design is too black so i went with a darker purple to stand out. I didn’t want virgo and capricorns to look like a matching set.

~ aquarius

- there was a lot of pressure to do aquarius well because it’s significant star dress, a fan favourite and my own star sign!

- i leaned more in the mermaid aesthetic by using more fin silhouettes and pearl detailing

- i wanted to make it more practical so a more supported bikini and mini skirt under the fin like fabric.

~ full set

i’m so super proud of these designs and i’ve actually seen an improvement in my art. Maybe in the future i’ll do a piece with all of them or do yukinos dresses so lmk if ur into that.

if ur looked this far ty so much for reading all my notes xxx

[girlboypersonthingy]

Would it be ok to request Vox with an affectionate s/o?

More than okay, nonnie! I’ve been getting so many requests bro, literally every time I post one, I get like 2 more in its place. IM LIVING FOR IT, KEEP IT COMING YALL! But also plz be patient with me 🥺 been waiting for a request for my flat-faced prince. Tbh the first time I watched Hazbin, my immediate reaction to Vox was ‘OH NO HES HOT!!!’ So, enjoy these headcanons 😘

Notes: gn!reader, maybe a little ooc Vox?

Vox x reader- Affection 💋

Also oh my fucking godddddd the vest, him in a vest. I need more Vox in a vest PRONTO…🥵

Okay so like…bro is more dirty minded.

He’s genuinely confused when you kiss his cheek or hold his hand like ???

Oh….you’re not just trying to fuck him and get famous?

Cuteee~

Sure, he’s fucked and made out with ppl and probably done some other crazy shit but his experience with sappy romance and affection like you show him is very limited.

He’s pretty dense, he’s got a tough shell and doesn’t really understand love languages and stuff like that.

His love language is most definitely gift giving and I just know he’s terrible at actually showing his feeling through words or romantic gestures or physical affection.

It’s usually just like “Hey! I love ya! I got you this.” *insert item you’d flip your lid over*

At least he’s a good gift giver! He really does try to give you cool stuff he knows you’ll like but he’s still learning how to actually speak about his feelings and show it physically.

He tries to match your energy the best he can

Get him gifts!!! Plz he loves homemade gifts too- gift him art, sing him an original song, sew him something, whatever your skills or talents may be, use them and he’ll adore it and also praise tf out of you

You took time to make this just for him? ‘Marry me’

Besides fucking around with Val, Vox doesn’t get much affection so he very quickly falls in love with all the sweet affectionate touches you frequently show him.

It’s all so different than Val, so sensitive and genuine. It really makes him swoon~

Melts when you kiss the corners of his screen- there’s something about non mouth kisses that really gets to him

He gets a huge dorky love stuck grin when you sit in his lap and hug him close, also hugs you back super tight

Absolutely loves kissing you and then noticing the lingering smudges/lipstick marks on his screen later

Fix his bow tie while giving him a sneaky wink in front of his crew and he’ll huff and look away while trying to hold back a smile

Invites you on his nightly broadcast as a guest one time and quickly learned how embarrassed he becomes when you flirt and call him pet names on live TV in front of tons of viewers

After only 10 minutes of talking, giggling and giving him bedroom eyes, Vox was struggling to maintain his composure- you’re so fucking cute.

All you had to do was laugh loudly at one of his crude jokes about Alastor and call him your “honey bunny” and suddenly the entire V tower lost power.

Poor man literally short circuits over your darling voice calling him such soft names- he’s so down bad for you he can’t even hide it

Val and Velvette have that specific episode downloaded and saved to every device they own bc there’s no way they are letting this go, he’s never living this down

If you pause the video right before it cuts out, just before the power goes out, Vox has literal hearts for eyes and his entire screen briefly becomes this bright blushy pink color- that’s a color no one has ever seen on him

Just keep doing your thing, you little hopeless romantic, and you’ll see that color more often.

But Vox might have to leave you at home when filming bc he can’t control himself around you sometimes and you obviously can’t either 🖤

[dr-spectre]

So.... This game is 2 years old now huh?

Honestly... I don't think i have a TON to say about this game. It's just a great ass fucking video game that has given me a lot of fun and great memories!

This game came out during my final year of school, which is kinda funny considering that Splatoon 3 acts like a "finale" to a trilogy. It's interesting how those kinds of things work out eh? Splatoon 2 came out at the start of my secondary education, and Splatoon 3 came out at the tail end of my final year.

I remember thinking before the game came out, "why do we need a Splatoon 3? This is pointless, it's just more Splatoon 2." And then my mind was quickly changed once i got to play the Splatfest test fire and the actual game itself.....

I completed ROTM in such a short amount of time and i documented my reactions to my friends. Although i was spoiled in that Deep Cut had boss fights and Mr. Grizz was the final boss, ROTM still gave me a giant smile to my face all the way through. It was so fun, so charming and just a really good single player experience.

One of the things that i LOVE about Splatoon 3 is the vibe. I just love the location of Splatsville, i love the aesthetics, the lighting, the model improvements from Splatoon 2, the music, it's my favourite art style/aesthetic out of any of the Splatoon games by far. It just feels so polished, i don't know how to exactly describe it.

Also the fact that this game won best multiplayer game of 2022 over CALL OF DUTY! OVERWATCH 2 AND MULTIVERSUS MAKES ME SO GIDDY AND HAPPY!

PEOPLE GOT MAD ABOUT THIS AND THAT MAKES ME WANNA EVIL LAUGH! All of those fucking depressed and sad Call of Duty players who whine and complain about how "wahh modern gaming sucks!! There's no good games anymore wahhh!! It's all microtransactions wahhh!!" BITCH! SPLATOON 3 IS LITERALLY THE GAME YOU'VE BEEN ASKING FOR!! Yet you won't play it because it's on Nintendo huh? Yeah... You're a fucking PUSSY!! YOU'RE WEAK!! You're SCARED to be seen as less of a manly man!! You only wanna play games with oily dirty buff men.... Yet you call others who play games like Splatoon gay? Hmm..... Sounds like you're a wittle insecureeeeee!!!!

Have fun rotting in microtransaction hell you LOSERS!! GAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anyways.... uh.... sorry....

I also fucking love Deep Cut too. I thought i wasn't gonna like these guys and i remember thinking when i first saw them "oh... okayyyy..."

But now? I love these bastards.

I love their dynamic and how they are bandits but they actually wanna help the people back in Splatsville. That is such a cool and unique take to have for Idol characters. The Squid Sisters are very cutesy and so are Off the Hook, but Deep Cut aren't. They are loud, messy, chaotic, in your face, rude, etc. They are about contrast and the character designers did a phenomenal job at conveying that theme via their backgrounds and looks.

Another thing that i love about Splatoon 3 is that it also acts as a celebration of things that have come before, Inkopolis Plaza and Square return as hubs, old colour combos from previous games act as loading screens, most of the music returns in the jukebox, it rewards long time fans for sticking around and for a long running franchise IT'S SUPER IMPORTANT to have that stuff!!!

Seeing the improvements in the model quality from Splatoon 1 to 3 genuinely makes me kinda emotional, it shows how far we've come in just a little under 10 years...

It really homes in on the point that... These characters, have grown up with us.... The Squid Sisters are about to reach their mid 20s, Pearl is nearly 30 fucking years old!!!

And the last thing i wanna bring up before i talk about the Grand Fest...

...Is Side Order.

This fucking DLC... My god... Being able to experience it by myself and just enjoy the stuff i was seeing, being able to SCREAM AND CRY AS MUCH I WANT WAS SO IMPORTANT TO ME DUDE!

When i got to the 10th floor in the tutorial and i saw Marina Agitando staring me down.... I did the loudest gasp a human could possibly do and my jaw was hung to the floor for a solid MINUTE!

Marina's first fucking dev diary made me cry and scream, THAT IS NOT A JOKE!!!! THESE CHARACTERS ARE THAT IMPORTANT TO ME!

And the final boss.... Made me cry, it broke me down, i was singing along to Ebb and Flow as best as i could, it felt like i was brought back to 2018, being in my room, listening to that song on repeat... I feel like a kid again....

I love this song... i love it so much... Like it's not the most hype finale song ever, but, the emotion behind it, the build up from Splatoon 2... The power this song has in it's meaning... It's some good shit man...

So yeah! I love Splatoon 3!!! It's my favourite game out of the series and anyone who is gonna jump into this game now is gonna have a LOT to chew on.

And... It's both sweet and sad that we're at the end. This is it... The moment we've been waiting for. The final Splatfest to end them all. The event 9 years in the making.

The Grand Festival...

I am extremely excited and so FUCKING NERVOUS for this Splatfest!!!! I know i am going to cry and be so overwhelmed with joy. Seeing the Squid Sisters and Off the Hook perform their old songs again after all of these years is gonna make me sob so loudly it's not even funny.

These characters genuinely mean the world to me and it's gonna be so fucking hard for me to watch their final major appearance and say goodbye. Cause after this, we don't know what's gonna happen. I know they will come back, they have to but... In what capacity? That's what I'm scared about...

So yeah, let's savior this moment when it eventually arrives, take all the time you need to be engulfed in the Grand Fest.

Thank you Splatoon 3, you have given me so much.... It's not time to say goodbye just yet but, i wanna watch you as you walk into the sunset with your head held high....

[captainfluffytheragdoll]

Space Riders Theory! 🌌

Woah I'M making a theory?? Yeah that's right. Hey guys! Captain Fluffz here. I'm using my very poor detective skills to make a theory about @onyxonline's very amazing Space Riders AU! Right, without further ado, let's get into it!

Firstly, if you've been reading the SR AU for a while, you'll probably have noticed that our main cast, aka the Space Critters, have these charm/pendant-like shapes on the front of their space suits.

See?

In episode 1, when the team get ready to fight the Cult's goons- ahem, I mean people, we see their pendants glowing.

It may just be a cool effect, but I think it may be something more. For more proof, in this scene where Catnap and Dogday do their fucking cool (sorry) duo move, their pendants are also glowing.

In episode 4, Hoppy's pendant glows when she's going into overdrive mode.

Well, what does all that mean? I think, maybe, the pendants represent the Space Critters' souls, and are perhaps even connected to them. Here's what I think:

Dogday's Sun pendant: Represents his powers as a Solar Celestial and his sunny demeanor as well as his positive attitude toward things. He is quiet literally the growing and supporting force for his team.

Catnap's Moon pendant: Represents his powers as a Lunar Celestial and his calm and levelheaded (also rather eepy) personality. He's probably a good listener and supports his friends; a good shoulder to cry on.

Hoppy's Lighting pendant: Represents her electricity powers and her active and enthusiastic personality. She can be a bit impatient and loud sometimes, but deep down cares for her close ones very deeply.

Crafty's Blue Flower pendant: Represents her creativity and calm personality. Just like a flower, she's a gentle beauty but has her thorns (ways of protecting herself).

Picky's Apple pendant: Represents her wholesome and hearty personality. She, of course, loves food and takes care of others.

Bubba's Light Bulb pendant: Represents his heightened intelligence and informative, (nerdy) and smart personality. He always has the information needed to help his team on missions and gets them through dark times.

Kickin's Star pendant: Represents his fire powers and his cool and bright personality. Like all stars, he's one you can count on, and of course, is very very rad, but has his burning point too.

Bobby's Heart pendant: Represents her caring and sweet nature. She's a very understanding and kind soul, and helps others however she can. Her beat (personality) is calming to all around her.

In episode 5, Poppy says that the husks are created to "show the irony of the heretics fighting their true selves". This very obviously means the husks are the Space Critters' "Dark Sides©" made to show what the Space Critters "actually are".

On the topic of husks, in episode 6, the husk that looks like Bobby has a... rather odd detail.

It's pendant, unlike Bobby's, looks somewhat like a melted heart, whereas the real Bobby's pendant is a perfect heart. Perhaps, this is meant to show the Space Critters' "real selves" aka their "Dark Sides©". We haven't yet seen the other husks, but I think all of them would have broken or ruined versions of the Space Critters' pendants. Meaning their "real selves" are mean, bloodthirsty and deranged.

So, in conclusion, I think the Space Critters' pendants represent their souls and are perhaps even linked to them, and the husks' ruined versions of the pendants are meant to show their "Dark Sides©".

So yeah! That's all, feel free to share your thoughts in the comments. I spent a fair amount of time on this, so a like or some nice words would be appreciated ^^. No forcing of course, don't feel obliged. Thanks so much if you took your time to read this, left a like or some nice words. I hope you found some truth in this theory, and please let me know if I missed anything.

Credits:

All art belongs to @onyxonline.

Space Riders AU belongs to the great @onyxonline. Check her out, now!

"Dark Side©" is a concept made by @appleeyeangeldust, and the team name for some of her OCs who also may make an appearance in my AU of @onyxonline's SR AU.

Edit 29/07/2024: OMG OMGOMGOMG @onyxonline reblogged??!! WOAHH!! Tysm!! <33

Alright then, peace, Captain Fluffz out! ✌🐱

[late-draft]

Hello, Dema here!

First off—I have fallen desperately in love with your artworks. You have a very particular style, strong and fluid all the same, and I can't help but admire the way you draw and how you approach character design.

And talking about character design...

I saw your post about Zuko's bold design in S1 when compared to what we got in S3 and—as much as I love S3-Zuko—I completely agree with you. Something I've always loved about Zuko in S1 is just how striking he was, how much of a presence he had, even when he was being tossed around by a twelve-year-old. That being said, I love Zuko, I love him in armor and pointy shoes and with a ponytail, and I loved your alternative design for him.

What do you think about his S2 character design? How does it flow with the story beats and his overall character arc? Much has been said about the Hair-Growth-Means-Character-Growth (and I find it interesting, also, that he cut his hair again before joining the Gaang), but I'd like to know your opinion on how that translates to character design and how the decisions made in the show could be either good or bad in that regard.

Sorry about the long ask! I've just been thinking about this a lot, lately, and would like to know what you think. Hope you have a good day ❤️

AAAA Dema hii!!! I'm so happy I got a message from you, I didn't expect it!!

I'm super glad to hear, I'll wear it as a badge of honour and I must tell you that I also love your art, you wonderfully do volume and the shading done through a contrast of sharp and soft areas! Super solid anatomy too and I'd be lying if I said I didn't look up to your art!

Yess the character designs in the show actually are rather strong, I like a good balance between memorable and functional. Zuko is just *chef kiss* but, considering just how many appearance changes he goes through, some are bound to be weaker than the starting one. That said, I'm gonna go through a few of his S2 looks and make this reply long, ha!

The starting one when he ends up huddling with uncle Iroh with other poor refugees, fits extremely well for the narrative at the moment. It's actually one of my least liked looks for him, and that's great!! It's precisely how it should be, because he's also arguably at one of his two lowest moral points in the story - he basically lost almost all hope, no clear goal, nothing to fight for, he's desperate precisely because of the lack of orientation and thus his morals degrade and sink veeery low. He gets on my nerves so goddamn much in this period LMAO I want to beat him up, he looks like a recovering drug addict... annoying, entitled whiny jerk stealing food and anything shiny for his uncle, but even then he just does not cross the moral event horizon. Excellent characterization. He just looks atrocious and it's great because it fits this low point.

Next he gets the standard boyish square of a hair, no notes here...

But theeeen, he arrives at one of my favourite looks of his, and it's not just because the clothes fit him very nicely (I've seen fandom say they look too big for him which, maybe?? But it doesn't look like he's swimming in them to me) And a thing I've noticed which, maybe it was just an accident on design part but I'm not sure considering they colour coded the entire cave scene; in this part his clothes match the shape of Katara's, first one in bottom then the one in top. The collar is the same haf-circle design but I don't know, maybe there was a limited pool of clothes designs guide which they cycled through. Or, he really is meant to come close but miss Katara by a beat, like sine and cosine chasing each other.

But besides this outfit fitting the inconspicuous Earth Kingdom customer service persona, it also (perhaps inadvertently) does this VERY cool thing:

It makes his shape look closed off and guarded, supposedly non-threatening. It's most visible in his fight against Jet, whose shape is open and goes in many directions like an aggressive star. But then look at what Zuko's shape does:

When he attacks, it opens up to reveal the hidden aspect, again the aggressive star shape shows up! The same thing happens in "Zuko alone" episode but I think it's most clearly visible in this fight against Jet because here he has a direct contrast and comparing with Jet. I think this is an example where the outfit, whose similar design exists irl, overlaps with a great visual metaphor and enhances the narrative at that moment in story. He's still that combative firebender but he has to keep that aspect concealed most of the time. Plus it just looks badass as hell!!

Animators really knocked it out of the park with many frames. I think Jun was too early and missed his better hairstyle, but Katara was just in time.

I agree it's super funny how his hair in the Beach is awfully long, covers his face to an uncomfortable degree and then he apparently shortens it before joining the Gaang, insane behaviour Truly an "I'm so angry and depressed I won't show my face nor be capable of seeing anything because there's nothing nice to see in my life" look...

I guess all his appearances in S2 cover his mental states, but only one of them is extremely Extra (the tea server, doesn't even take the apron off and goes to fight) and I don't see any spot where a similar tier design could be shoved in, narratively speaking. So all in all, S2 did as much as S2 could have. More tea server arc please though, the Guru episode really feels like it skipped 800 km of plot and everything that happened in it is so crammed and pretty sus in terms of character behaviour.

[maleyanderecafe]

Death by Fire (Visual Novel)

Created by: V0dka

Genre: Horror/Romance

Death by Fire has some nice art, and an interesting concept though there isn't too much as of now considering it's a demo. The main character, Arson not only has a cool name but a cool design with a half mask. If you are interested in this game, you can find more out at @deathbyfirevn.

The story starts out with the MC waking up. They seem really tired and grumbling as their boss has called them. They decide to go buy some groceries, being served by a nice cashier. As they go up the stairs to their apartment, they come across some graffiti welcoming them home before getting knocked out. Upon waking up, they find that they are tied to a chair, with an animated TV show playing in the background. Someone states that it was a show that the MC liked when they were younger and as the MC looks at him, they see a man with a mask and some blood on his face. They can either ask about the blood or why he kidnapped them.

If the MC asks about why they did this, they will seem disappointed that they don't remember him, even though the MC has absolutely no recollection of him. Whereas if the MC talks about he blood, he will state that he cut the limbs off of a man who was trailing outside of their house. He will then state that he is taking care of the MC now, all of their eating, drinking etc. He will then ask if we like the TV show that is playing.

If we say yes, he will be happy whereas if we say no, then he will seem disappointed as we used to like this show in the past.

After which, he will attempt to loosen the ropes where we can either attack him or stay obedient. Attacking him will lead to knocking him over, however he will be able to grab hold of their ankle. He is unhappy, stating how happy he was when he first was able to see them again after so long, however, in displeased by the results. Staying obedient will lead to him introducing himself as Arson and him stating that he will have to buy somethings tomorrow before the MC falls asleep.

So as I said, fairly short. The story mostly follows the MC being annoyed before being otherwise kidnapped by Arson, though we do get to learn more about him through his appearance and his relationship with the MC. Arson seems to have known the MC from the past, though we don't know how or why, and based on his appearance probably had some injuries to the left side of his face, probably due to fire (considering his name is Arson and the title of this game). We also see that he has bandages on his arms so it's possible that he might self harm or that those too are injuries from said fire. Based on the cartoon that he plays, it's likely that Arson and the MC met when they were really small, so it's likely one of those childhood friends that the MC no longer remembers. I am curious about how Arson was able to kidnap the MC in the first place, since at least in our point of view we simply get knocked out before waking up to being tied to a chair. Still, it seems like the game will either be attempting to escape or enjoying the life of Arson taking care of us while being tied to a chair, either of which will likely lead to some interesting backstory between the two.

I will say that the art is very pretty, I like the design of Arson since there is a lot of intrigue to what happened to him from his mask to his mostly expressionless face to the bandages of his arms. He does a lot of good character design storytelling just from his design considering we don't know that much about whats happening in the game yet. The clerk also seems like she might be an important character (though it might just be that she's the only other character we've seen so far).

Over all though, a pretty short game, though an interesting premise. As I've said there's currently not much on it, but hopefully it becomes a fun game for everyone to play in the future.

[critterbitter]

HELLO HI ID LIKE TO ASK WHAT PROGRAM AND BRUSHES YOU USE CUZ IM LITTERALY EXPLODING EVERYTIME I SEE YOUR ART

actually actually... *pulls out whole stack of paper*...I have. a FEW,, a good few,, questions to ask. they are not many I swear 😇

OK SO FIRST OF ALL HOW DO YOU DRAW SO FAST???? everyday I log onto Tumblr I always see something new from you and I get very very happy. But then I start to question my own existence because not even I CAN SPEED RUN ART LIKE THAT. AND SO SPECTACULARLY TOO

Last question! how do you color and make it look so well?? just. How. I need to know. This is a CRY FOR HE-

anyway thank you for being one of my favorite artists that always feed my brain rot, pls keep making amazing art because like a little yamper I will follow behind and stay updated.

(Stands there)

Response and thoughts under cut!

First question! What art program I use!

Mostly procreate, along with a handful of brushes! (Specifically the Jing Set and some custom stuff, which is really just a circle brush with the shape changed to a square.)

Second question! How do i draw so much!

Okay so. I am. Ahhah. Unemployed,,,,? No, I do freelance illustration, but hmm. A studio job would be nice.

i graduated college last year and I’m very used to eight hour art shifts. The body sort of remembers to keep working, even though I no longer have storyboards or visdev homework to do.

Also. The hyperfixation is a deep vast tunnel I STILL have not seen the end of the light to, good golly. (I have dreams now about the kids committing shenanigan crimes. I wake up in cold sweat and write them down in a journal. It’s like being the mouthpiece to an angry god.)

So the overall gist is: I was trained to be a storyboard artist with a visdev background, and I’m using that higher education to draw funny muppets because my brain’s funny.

I also DO have a queue, and I’ve been treating this as a sort of inktober project. I am definitely going to slow down soon though! Maybe. Hopefully. Ah… (sheepishly drops my kofi here)

Third question! How do i color!

I. I, uh. I dont know man the coloring demons have a grip on my soul and i just go along for the ride. But also, if it helps, i prefer to limit my pallets to only a few colors at a time. Lighting is king, so if you can figure out if you want to focus on either on your lights or shadows, you’ll have a much easier time composing. That, and symbolic colors— idk, something hits different about art drenched in gold with a tiny hint of a man staring into the blinding horizon, or a green leafy environment with a single dot of artificial red. I also like using blue and purple for shadows, and I’m a big fan of muting colors with only one or two that pop— one of the reasons why I was so attracted to submas in the first place is because from a design aesthetic, they’re both super funny muppet men AND really cool train guys that have a limited pallet and thematic apparel.

Overall response! THANK YOU SO MUCH. This goes out to a BUNCH of people who sent me inbox queries— sorry for not responding, it’s a tad overwhelming because some of them are story questions even I don’t really know will go yet, and others are words of praise and I’m selfish and like scrolling through the inbox to look at them when I feel down. I am more of an artist who sits in the corner and sprouts like a potato rather then a branching vine who socializes, but I really do see people’s responses and they make me go :)))))

Okay ramble over. Thanks for coming to the soapbox, and good luck on creating!

[usagifuyusummer]

Family Dinner Night!

Congrats Peri(winkle) for finally getting the Godparenting license!!! 🥳🥳🥳 - from your loving parents and godbrother 💖💖💖

More concept art and as usual my insane ramblings below.

I NEED TO GET THE CREATIVE URGES OUT OF MY HEAD!!! It has been bothering with my motivation to finish my gazillions of homeworks lmao. I have so many ideas I need to let out!!! It's suffocating. I hope this will satisfy my creative urges for a while... Or not I will yap about my FOP AU on a separate post (when I'm able).

I can't stop being sad thinking about this family lol. Timmy 😭😭😭

I am not kidding when I say that my head is just filled with so many things that I want to contribute in the FOP fanworks lol. There's a lot I want to do, but so little time...

For now, I've decided to practice my take on the FOP artstyle. I wanted to do something simple as drawing and coloring practice. That's why the coloring this time is flat with no shadings. I think the show doesn't focus on shaded colors too much (except on scenes where there's a heavy implication of day/night, for shock value, etc.).

Just wanted to draw something cute because I haven't been feeling so swell lately. Nothing too poetic or detailed this time.

Other than that, two of the outfits this time is actually inspired by @suki-na-kumo for Peri and an image I found floating around in Twitter/X (sorry I don't remember who shared it) for Timmy's design. Suki-na-kumo's FOP family redesigns are so cool and adorable! I like that they always include flowy attributes in Peri's outfits lol. It makes him look like a pampered brat (which he kinda is seeing how his family coddles him), an otherworldly prince and also a Twink TM (that is unavoidable lol). I kinda want to draw their other FOP redesigns, but I'll just go with Peri's first.

I am not sure where that 18 year old Timmy design is from, but it kinda can be his design for those who theorise him on becoming a lawyer as an adult. There's a lot of instances where Timmy is wearing a suit in the show, but this design is one of my favs due to the hairstyle change. My adult Timmy designs in the future will be influenced from this piece of official art. I wonder if there are more Timmy designs in the wild wild west out there that I haven't seen... It is certainly an interesting find (Teen AJ is also there, and his design also looks cool to me).

Cosmo and Wanda's oufits are something that I cooked up. I don't think the coloring looks good... I just did this on a whim, and for about 13 hours. Damn, I am procrastinating on my work lmao.

Still, the context this time is, that they've had a family dinner to celebrate on Peri's achievement on finally obtaining his godparenting license!!! Good for him!!!

This is an AU if Timmy somehow was able to find a loophole in the "losing your memories of your fairy godparents after you become an adult" rule. Because of that, he continued his life as normal (as Timmy's chaotic life can be), but this time he is able to keep in contact with his fairy family even if they're not contractually obligated to stick together. Timmy does live with the Fairywinkle Cosma's around his college to early work years, but he eventually was able to move out and live on his own at where he works as a lawyer after a while in his adulthood. (His birth parents eventually went on a lifetime vacation without him or just went away for too long that Timmy just lives on his own a lot after he is 18 and above...)

Despite living on his own nowadays (In a New Wish context), Timmy does keep in contact with his fairy family and visits them when he's not busy with his job. Cosmo and Wanda still took a long vacation in this AU, first due to, yeah, Timmy is no easy feat as a godchild lol, and second, they actually want to take their time to raise BOTH of their children (even if Timmy is no longer a child/godchild) and guide them until they're stable adults. Timmy during college years actually only stays with the Fairywinkle Cosma's on holidays, so when Timmy's busy with college, that is when Cosmo and Wanda take their time relaxing lmao.

Sometimes when they really want to have some time alone or when Peri wants to see his bro, they will send Peri to Timmy's college for a day or more. Timmy babysits Peri so much during his college years lol. They both had fun though! With a lot of Peri newfound nuclear fairy power shenanigans at Timmy's college lmao. Studying law and taking the bar exam has never been more chaotic with babysitting a nuclear powered fairy child.

There's a lot more on this AU that I've been thinking, but I'll stop here for now. I need to gather my AU ideas in one post sometime later.

Also, Peri and Timmy are both adults here, Peri's around his 20's here and Timmy is on his early 30's I think. Cosmo, Wanda, and Peri are in their human disguises here, because they want to learn more about human culture (A New Wish context) while also having the desire to be more in Timmy's life.

I headcannon Timmy to be kinda short in his adulthood. This is also a nod to that episode when his fairy family used imperfect human disguises, even Poof/Peri was taller than Timmy in his human baby disguise lol. And also hey, wearing braces during his teen years paid off! (his big teeth are visible only when he opens his mouth lol)

As usual, here's some concept art and a png lineart pic if you want to use it to color it better than I did lmao. (that was a long yapping session... thanks for reading)

[narcpixiedreamboy]

Okay I’d like anyone that sees this to blind react and put a finger down for each thing in this list you relate to. There are 9 things. You can comment your score publicly or keep it private, up to you, but I think this might be interesting for some people. Here’s the list:

-Do you tend to take criticism too personally, or gotten unreasonably defensive when someone points out a mistake you made? Do you hate admitting you’ve done something wrong?

-Do you like to daydream about doing something amazing (such as saving people from a burning building, being the one to win your team the game, being an amazing actor in a movie, etc.) and having people recognize you for the great thing you did?

-Do you place in importance on being associated with important or high status things, like trying to date/be friends with the coolest kids in your classes, or choosing to go to a prestigious university over a common state school?

-Do you tell people about things you’ve done specifically to get praise for it? Such as telling your friends about the A you got on that really hard math test, or pointing out your cool new hairstyle, or the drawing you did that you think looks really cool, specifically so that they will compliment you for it?

-Do you feel comfortable prioritizing yourself and what you want/need over other people?

-Have you ever diminished your accomplishments, or been purposefully self-deprecating so that the person will reassure you (i.e. “You’re such a good artist!” “Oh no I’m really not, anyone could do what I do” “No really, your art is amazing!”)?

-Do you find it hard to genuinely care about other people’s problems?


-Do you get jealous easily if, let’s say at a party, your friend is getting more attention than you?

-Have you ever felt secretly happy that someone around you failed or did worse on something than you did? Like maybe you didn’t want your friend to fail their math test, but them failing it did you make you feel a little extra good and proud about the non-failing grade you got on it.

(Scroll for explanation for spoiler reasons)

So what that list was a rewriting of the DSM-5 diagnostic criteria for narcissistic personality disorder, where for each section I filled in one of the ways I actually feel that part of the criteria. So instead of “grandiose sense of self”, I said “bad at taking criticism”, because that’s one of the ways my grandiose sense of self actually presents. If this was the original diagnostic criteria, you would need 5 of 9 to be diagnosed with NPD.

The reason I asked you all to count how many you relate to is that I have seen a lot of egotypicals do this exact same stuff. My goal is to help someone possibly unfamiliar with NPD understand that people with NPD are not the foreign, subhuman monsters that we are so often represented as, but rather people who feel some normal human traits too much.

(Also please don’t use this alone to self-diagnose, it was not made for that)

(Also also, thank you to the people in the reblogs for letting me know I could’ve used the read more feature. I am new to tumblr so tips on how to use it are appreciated)

[icarusthecryptid]

Keath's storytelling through their art is amazing.

Like, look at these characters, these concepts, these pictures. Every bit of media used to convey a story. It's honestly brilliant!

I've got so much to say about it so let me ramble about the Harkers today!

Each of these represent something, which is very neat. But the way each character is dressed, is designed, looks even, it tells you something! It's brilliant. The personalities out of clothing and designs.

The Storyteller, their entire design is a story. Every accessory, every detail, every layer. It tells you so much about them! The hat that covers eyes, which I think is a fun way to show how the past doesn't look forward. Uncovered mouth, because historically stories/legends/history was passed by word of mouth because most people couldn't read. Also most of the time it was through songs too! That's so cool. There's so much going on in the Storyteller's design and clothing, the feather accessories, the plants, the straws, the clothes and dress like attachments. The shoes! There's a million details, and each says something without actually saying anything at all. For a mysterious figure, I believe the storyteller has the most that's actually being told purely from a visual perspective. There is a mystery, but the past illuminates (get it? Storyteller has a lamp hehe). Visually, the Storyteller lives up to its name so well! This is a being you'd find at the side of the road, along the crowd, on a stage, to sing of a past, to tell a story. A forgettable but unforgettable being. Too many details that will overwhelm you with implications, too many stories, but not extravagant, still rooted in the past, the basics if you will. Straws are important here, fields, the outside, nature. Straws in the past have been used for so much, bedding, isolation, food for cattle, to soften places, and clothing like hats. Multi-purpose and helpful.

Okay, next the Storyteller's significant other, the Bell-Ringer or also known as Yarrow. Who represents the future! A goat like being who wears Bell's and expensive clothing. If the future is commonly associated with good fortune, this is exactly how it should be conveyed! Not too simple and not too extravagant, there's a lot of details, but they're still rich in its simplicity. Ruffles, straight lines, horns and branches. Bell-Ringer is tall (but not the tallest), imposing, regal, a crown of golden really. Stitched patches on their cheeks, which convey a doll-like being, even as a goat. Their eyes are unique, like all goats, horizontal. To me their eyes are a way to have a unique play on future insight. And the patches on the cheeks can convey that these are untold. Yarrow is colorful, bright, imposing and even knowing. A representation of the future in such a beautiful way. Bell's also!!! Bell's are so important, Bell's have been commonly used to announce big news, important events and presently more for the time. Ringing Bells on a street corner for news, ringing Bells to herd cattle, ringing Bells to celebrate. A bell for attention, now more to great people too. It's important here, and it can have a lot of implications. Does the bell ringing mean that something important happens where the Yarrow is? The future is the sound of bells.

The last two Harkers are a bit harder for me as I'm not super sure I have seen all their details. So I'm hoping I'm getting it right and not misinterpreting what I'm seeing.

Okay! Third, let's go with the Enkindled. The Enkindled is the shortest. Its name can mean several things, like set on fire or to inspire (emotions). With a tree like being that is messy, that is wooden but small, pretty simple and not too extravagant. I believe the Enkindled has the least amount of detailing, oh there's a lot of it don't get me wrong, but clothing and accessory wise, there isn't much. But it represents a tree like being, so that makes sense. The wood that branches is detailed enough. Trees are mesmerizing enough. A truly rooted figure that doesn't need much, but still can inspire. The smallest of things can give the most ideas. A single tree can tell a story, a forest tells more. Again, I still don't know much, but what I know is that there is heart in this being, contrary to what you glean from a first glance maybe. But trees have represented so much, like family trees. But also strength, individuality and expression, calmness, growth and the interconnectedness of everything. It's the heart of it, the beginning maybe. They represent order(?) and that's reflected in their design! Trees might look chaotic, but they're ordered in a way that makes sense. Branches serve a purpose, the way they form is the most ideal path for a tree. The order in which a tree grows, withers, lives or dies.

Lastly the Croon, the tallest and most imposing looking. It has feathers and matches the design of a bird, the skull is bird-like. It's body looks like a bird's. But that's not the only animal trait, moose antlers, a crown of spikes and claw-like hands. The Croon looks the most intimidating. And its name can be interpreted as a tone of voice, crooning, sentimental humming/singing/speaking. The croon represents entropy, entropy can mean the end or decay of things. With a skull representing their head I feel that that's really well conveyed. There's a chaos to their design, but it all makes sense still especially with the concept of entropy. Where things fall into disarray or decline. The Croon looks dosserayed.

I love the way that the Harkers are themed after story aspects. The Storyteller as a name tells a story, respecting the past as most stories are retellings. The Bell-Ringer, the future, every story has one, what comes after. The Enkindled, the heart, the idea of a story, that what motivates, but also the order of it, there is a way to tell a story that makes sense of the chaos within these events that are linked. The Croon represents entropy, the chaos in a story or the ending of it, the challenge or the struggle that simply is.

If I got anything wrong please don't get angry! I'm very much still learning about the lore and details, unfortunately my brain is far more focused towards details in art than all the smart stuff everyone else seems to get 😭 and please do correct me if I'm wrong on anything!

End of the day, I just really love the amount of attention and visual storytelling that was put into Yaelokre, the art was addmitably what got me so into this all. It was the first thing that really caught my attention. The songs and the story I love them too!

Thanks for reading :D (if you're still here) and I hope if anyone else wants to share their thoughts on designs and stuff they will! I can't wait to ramble about the lark too, but my brains too tired to talk any more so I'll leave this here for now :D

Have a doodle page as compensation for sitting through this!

[shalotttower]

Pholcus phalangioides

Title: Pholcus phalangioides

Fandom: The Collector (2009). Can be read as an original inspired by the source, because I took some creative liberties.

Summary: There's a spider in your bathroom, it lives under the mirror cabinet and you a) don't want to kill it, and b) are too scared to touch it, so now you can either keep giving it one side eye after another, or ask your neighbour for help.

Word count: 4000+

Characters: Asa Emory x Reader

Notes: yandere Asa, spiders and insects descriptions, stalking, voyeurism of sort - Asa watches Reader without her realizing it, kidnapping, vague hinting on body horror, non-con touching, Reader is socially awkward. Asa is not 100% in-movie-character Asa (he actually talks lol), a huge chunk of him is based on my headcanons.

You have this problem - a spider problem, to be precise. Not that it's too big of a deal, but...it also is.

Spiders are generally okay.

They eat unwanted guests, like flies and mosquitos or even other spiders. Make cool webs, which is probably one of the most complicated forms of art, not to mention a mathematical pattern to it - a combination of radial and circular symmetry. The golden ratio in nature.

In general they're important for keeping a backyard ecosystem nice and intact.

But.

But there is a spider in your bathroom, right under the sink cabinet, with thin legs, a long body, and of course - eyes. Quiet, kept to itself, really chill spider who doesn't move much except to crawl around a little and sometimes look at you when it catches you looking.

It probably lived in hiding somewhere, before deciding that dark spaces weren't up to its standards anymore and making an appearance. You haven't swatted it away, caught it, struck it with a paper - mostly because you're not good at killing living creatures, and secondly because the spider isn't doing any harm, just observing your every step, and generally being present.

When you check your makeup bag, it watches. When you brush your teeth, it watches. When you close the cabinet door it wiggles and your heart goes "ee" as if someone shocked it with a static charge. This yellowish-brown witness of your everyday activities, silently approving and judging, lately makes you feel like a nuisance in your own bathroom. You desperately wish there was a way to make it move to another corner. A less centralized one, less straight in your face. Yet the thought of touching it makes you cringe inwardly; your mind conjures images of different scenarios involving spider-related unpleasantries - accidentally squashing it, or getting bitten and dying a slow, miserable death.

It's gotta go.

Because the more you see it, the more your brain tries to assign it human features. And the longer it stares, the bigger the chance it might grow a pair of lips to say "get out of my bathroom".

The thought comes to you in the morning while setting a breakfast plate on the kitchen counter. The house is quiet, all windows are open and you stare through one of them at your neighbour's fence. You rarely see him, though the parked car is always a giveaway of his presence. Emory, that's what the mailbox says, and he has a neat garden, not an extravagant type, but everything is carefully trimmed and arranged into simple patterns.

There's even a stone bench by a small tree. Does it actually get used on sunny days? Probably no. He seems like a loner, from what you've seen so far: tall and pale, with wire-rimmed glasses and still grey eyes. Very focused and put together, a turtleneck and dark trousers kind of Mister. Never waving when passing by, though he does glance sometimes - sharp and attentive.

Once you caught him leaning over a bush with back straight and head hanging low. Your stomach gave this funny, nervous twitch, like when a stranger tries to start a conversation in public. He looked your way and then resumed whatever he was doing.

"Whatever" appeared to be something small, sharp limbs and a shiny body. It looked like a beetle, stretched to an absurd degree, and the way he held that thing felt strangely intimate. The same way you'd cradle a baby animal in your hands, rubbing its forehead with a fingertip. Emory put it in a plastic box, sealed it, and went into his house, not sparing you another glance.

This particular memory - of long fingers and a careful grasp - is what makes you think that maybe, possibly, theoretically, he could handle one pesky spider for you. You've seen him with insects a couple of times after, no doubt Mr. Emory is one of those who glue bugs to display boards. The creepy friend in the bathroom must be right up his alley then.

Five minutes later the two of you are staring at each other in awkward silence. Bothering barely acquainted neighbours isn't usually high on your list of priorities, especially if said neighbours look like they prefer being alone. You know it's odd, you know it probably crosses some boundaries, yet here you are.

With a crease on his brow and a tight mouth, Emory isn't thrilled at this sudden visit. Maybe he was in the middle of something, or is just uncomfortable with people invading his space. In any case, you clear your throat.

"Good morning. I live in the house across the road. The white porch? With-"

"I know," it's a dry reply. Not rude, more matter-of-factly; his eyes are fixed on you with a hint of unsettling peculiarity which makes you shift from one foot to the other.

He's not pest control, you think. Or obligated to help in any way. Emory can tell you to kindly fuck off right now and close the door, why did you even come here? It's stupid and intrusive. You're almost ready to take it all back and go home, pretend like nothing happened and just deal with that spider yourself, when he speaks again.

"What do you need?"

He has a quiet voice, a very even direct tone that doesn't encourage small talk, but prompts answers. Now and without pointless filling.

"I know how it's going to sound," you start, cringing inside, "and apologize in advance for bothering you, but I had an impression you collect...bugs."

"Insects. Arachnids."

"Right. So I was thinking if you'd mind removing a spider from my bathroom. I don't want to kill it, but I can't- I can't touch it."

His gaze slowly shifts from your face to the house behind you. As if Emory has an x-ray vision, or a complete mental map of your household layout. Ha, this would be ridiculous. There's no apparent disapproval in his pale face, but something else, a different kind of assessment. Evaluation of how much it is worth spending time on someone with an overgrown lawn? His eyes return back and you feel pinned down.

The longer he stays silent, the more you wish for the ground to open and swallow you whole.

"If you can't I totally understand-"

"What kind of spider?"

It's your turn to stare. How are you supposed to know, you've never studied spider biology. It looks like any other common variety, except creepier because it refuses to leave its spot and stay in the sewer where it belongs. "I...light-brownish, with long legs. Thin? Slender," there's more you could add but any further description will probably make you sound like a total dunce who can't recognize basic arachnids. "Kind of big."

You expect a 'sure', maybe 'I'll be there shortly' or 'no'. What you get is Emory moving past you and walking up your front porch. The scent of laundry detergent and soap, very clean, hits your nose before you rush to open the door.

"Uhm. Second floor," you explain, awkwardly shuffling after him. For the first time since the day you moved in, you worry about what someone might see inside the house. As far as clutter goes, your place is acceptable, perhaps a few forgotten cups around and yesterday's sweater thrown on a couch. Surely, it's not too bad.

Emory, however, doesn't seem interested in the surroundings. The staircase doesn't even creak under his weight, despite the house being around a century old. He steps over the little border which always makes you trip if you walk too fast, like it's not there. Like the corner you often bump your hip into doesn't exist either. He navigates your home with effortless precision, an inward kind of certainty that makes your eyebrows rise. Maybe...the houses on your street have the same blueprint.

Either way, he walks into your bathroom without hesitation, turning on the light. You hover by the doorway, unsure: should you offer something to drink, ask him if he needs anything else or just step away and leave him to do his thing?

The spider is there, hiding under the cabinet, when Emory leans over to observe it. He's probably seen many different specimens, you think, and this isn't interesting at all compared to the ones who have an intricate design or unique behavior.

"She's a part of the Pholcidae family," Emory says suddenly. Just like that there's 'she', instead of 'it', and the spider twitches and shifts. "Daddy long-legs. Harmless."

He puts his palm up close to its back. At first, it seems startled, but after a moment slowly calms down, and moves a leg - left then right - getting familiar with his hand.

"Docile creatures," Emory continues, while the spider walks along the edge of his palm. No running around, no random leaps, stick-like limbs touch and probe him with curiosity, much like you'd study something new. "They stay in the dark, hide in the corners while feasting on smaller things. Your intruder is a useful tenant."

It makes you feel slightly nauseous, how nonchalant he is about holding something that prompts recoil on instinct.

"Do you want to hold her?" Emory turns to you and there's a faint, strange smile on his lips. It doesn't reach his eyes and makes him look like an alien who tries to mimic human expressions based only on observation. His pupils are so dark that you can barely tell the difference between the irises and the rest. They seem bottomless, absorbing all light, but reflecting none in return. You take one step backwards, shaking your head.

"I'll pass."

He keeps staring at you for what feels like forever before returning his attention to the spider crawling on his skin. Emory reaches into his back pocket for a small container.

"Are you not setting her outside?" You ask. "She...she doesn't look like, uh, a rare species."

Not that you're an expert.

"No," Emory closes the lid with a quiet click. "She isn't one. But I'm going to keep her."

And he does. The little captive spider rests at the very bottom of a plastic case when you send the man on his way and thank him for the help. Emory accepts it with a nod, no further words, and then there's only his back when he leaves. The morning air rushes in, crisp and fresh, smelling like grass, tree leaves and soil.

*

It feels like you blink, and three days go by. You still keep an eye on the bathroom cabinet by some sort of habit, however there's nothing out of the ordinary lurking there, no creepy critters and definitely no thin legs scattering in multiple directions. All is well, now you can brush your teeth, take care of business and even lean close without fear something might fall on your head.

It's just a spider. You googled it later, and how common it is around the continents should be a bit ridiculous. Keeping it might equal to going on a beach and picking the most unremarkable pebble you see; Emory certainly could find hundreds more Daddy long-legs wherever he pleased - parks, gardens or forests.

So...why?

The question gnaws at you, together with that smile and cold grey eyes hidden behind glasses' frames. The weirdest part wasn't the expression, it was how you couldn't read it. Despite the obvious display of human emotion, however misplaced and alien, it failed to reveal anything. The smile was there, and yet nothing broke through it, not amusement, nor politeness - or any kind of feeling whatsoever.

Your neighbour is odd.

Not necessarily scary, though there's a sense of mystery surrounding him, it makes you feel like standing next to an iceberg and only seeing its tip. Or you've just read far too many psychological thrillers and your imagination likes to conjure up the wildest scenarios, trying to turn each and every thing into something sinister.

Maybe you should just chill and get some tea, and stop being so dramatic about a guy who came over and politely removed a spider for you.

*

They're not a unique species. Not even remotely uncommon.

He taps the container gently with his index finger, making the spider move back and forth. She doesn't have venom, no poisonous chemicals to injure and kill. Hiding in abandoned corners she does, patient and careful, waiting to catch the wrong fly.

You're just like her. Nothing exciting. Not unique.

Your movement patterns are similar, concealed in a different package you're still predictable: getting home from work, cooking dinner, watching TV shows. Everyday routines.

Fear is a part of your nature. Awkwardness which comes with socializing: you shuffle when uncomfortable, avoid prolonged eye contact and don't like confrontation, he noticed this right away. A quiet type, keeping mostly to yourself unless you need something urgently; and then you rush, like a scared Daddy long legs. There's this shiftiness, an inner desire to be less visible, but also a yearning for recognition because the lack of it hurts. And he saw all those small things, catalogued them one by one, as you moved into his street and became a constant presence.

Asa has never thought about keeping something - someone - so mundane before. Never. He likes rare things, spectacular, and those collected in the basement, they all are, especially when he's finished with them. They're extraordinary, displayed under glass cases and preserved for eternity.

He doesn't collect common species. Daddy long-legs are abundant everywhere around him.

But.

There's the way you linger by the kitchen window during the morning routine, slowly sipping hot coffee. When your lips purse and eyes lose focus for a moment. Or how the corners of them wrinkle sometimes when you have a genuine, amused laugh. It's something like warmth. There's no label for the feeling - positive, negative or neutral, it just is, like one single, meaningless element in an ecosystem.

He shouldn't want someone so average.

And yet Asa watches from the corner of your living room, crouched on the floor by a plant.

You don't hear him, too invested in your personal bubble. Well, he had enough time to polish his craft and figure out how soundless he can be when moving through spaces, how much weight he needs to place onto soles to avoid creaking wood and floorboards.

It's interesting to see you interact with your environment, unaware of being watched. There's an invisible pattern behind each action, even if you think everything is randomized. The web you wove around yourself is cozy, and Asa follows its threads while you check the phone and frown at whatever notification pops up. He is considering. Contemplating this impulsive desire he has yet to identify.

Would it be worth it? Keeping you. Adding you to the collection and seeing what comes out of it, how far his usual approach might take him with you in the same conditions. You're just a face with features. So...ordinary. He wants to pick you apart and look inside to make sure it's not some strange sort of mimicry, camouflage of a different nature hiding something else entirely.

There's this vague idea how those features may feel when touched. He can recall them accurately, even when you've never stood too close. Asa watches quietly from his hiding place, memorizing a displeased mumble and then a frustrated gesture.

You seem so alive.

Those below who are frozen in time now were too, before Asa decided to give them a purpose and make something special and worthy of his attention. They were alive like you, but now they're something better.

What purpose you have remains to be seen.

Asa decides then.

A plain trunk is nestled in the corner behind a coat hanger, no fancy latch or keyhole needed, only an ordinary padlock. You'll fit in nicely, squeezed in the cramped space, it won't be the most comfortable experience, but it's not for long and then...then he can show you the room where others stayed before, and where you'll be next.

Asa looks around one last time: the front door is locked, blinds down, lights off - you get up from the couch and head upstairs, right on the dot. Your house is easy to navigate despite the darkness; Asa knows his way around it, having been here already more than once. A step after a step he follows the soft padding of your bare feet, and when the steps halt, he pulls out a cloth. It's a heavy kind of pleasure to be able to stand right behind and admire your nape, there's a strange sort of vulnerability to it.

Something raw and very exposed.

It takes only a few movements, he catches your yelp into one of his hands and holds it clasped tightly as you thrash. Your nails dig into the fabric of his turtleneck but fail to leave any marks. He's never tired of it, the initial fear of his specimens realizing that their secure habitats are ruined. He doesn't mind this fight for survival.

"Shh," Asa breathes into your ear. "Shh."

The struggle doesn't last long - you're not a fighter - and when your body goes limp, he picks you up. Your perfume is surprisingly light, a very sweet and pleasant aroma, not overwhelming at all like he'd expect it to be.

It's nice.

He puts you in the trunk, a boxy space barely big enough to fit you curled on the side, it's going to take around thirty minutes to reach the hotel and another three to put you in the right cell. You'll sleep the rest of the journey, which is fortunate for everyone. It's always easier to deal with a specimen if they're resting.

The lock clicks softly - it's time to go home.

*

Something runs down your cheek - a drop, a bead of sweat, a touch - and you blink, trying to make sense of it. The surroundings are unfamiliar, blurry shapes with undefined outlines that stretch and wobble before your eyes. Your jaw hurts, clenched so hard that teeth grind together, and it takes a conscious effort to relax.

Where...what?

The living room, a TV program, a soundless whisper that froze the hairs at your nape, then someone was behind you. You remember a sickly sweet smell, and after that nothing but a haze and the dark, and the sensation of being squeezed into a shape. Your legs feel numb, arms too, like you spent hours immobile in one position. Slowly the world sharpens back into focus, but instead of relief there's only dread.

You're in a room.

No bigger than a regular bathroom and void of any furniture beside a cot-like bed, a toilet in the corner and a sink. The walls are a bluish-gray with thin cracks, tiny fissures that create uneven lines from the ceiling all the way down to the floor.

And there's a man, observing you quietly through the thick glass.

You don't notice him immediately, too busy assessing your new location, and when you do the air feels heavier, difficult to move past your throat. He's wearing a mask. Black rubber or something, covering everything except his eyes. He presses two palms against the barrier separating you, the silence stretches into an eternity.

'Who are you? What do you want?' - these are kind of questions you should be asking, but they don't come out. You remain glued to the spot, counting the passing seconds by their painful tick-tock-tick-tocks. One minute turns into two, and he...just stares without moving a muscle in a beyond unnerving manner. Your gaze dips lower to check his clothes, perhaps find a pattern to identify this person later.

There's none. Everything is plain black, like a uniform made to be invisible - turtleneck, pants, even gloves and boots.

It seems that your silence somehow pleases him, because a few moments later he leaves without looking back.

You don't know how much time passes; there's not a window around, only a bare, stark bulb, yellowish in its brightness and casting unpleasant shadows all over the floor. Not a single sound. Traffic, voices of distant passersby or birds - all is absent and doesn't provide even a bit of understanding where the hell you are.

In the end, you...sit down on the bed and wait, because what else is there? Everything is eerily silent and very, very uncomfortable: this emptiness, the absence of noise, the endless ticking of an invisible clock. It's difficult not to cry, but you try your best, somehow it feels important to remain composed. There has to be a reason behind this. There must be one, and you repeat it over and over, like a mantra to soothe the nerves and present your mind with some semblance of logic: once you figure out what's going on, you'll figure out how to get out as well.

Pulling loose threads from your sleeve is poor entertainment, if anything, the strain of boredom and unease gradually grows into anxiety so sharp that you almost miss the sound of approaching footsteps.

He's back again, the masked stranger who stands in the doorway with hands clasped behind his back. A pair of light grey eyes is a splash of different color, but they are blank. They watch with distant curiosity of an animal trainer monitoring a newborn cub. The comparison makes something ugly squirm inside you. A part of you wants to make a run for it, the other keeps yelling that it would be immensely stupid.

One, two, three, four steps he takes into your cell. Your back meets the wall, the chill coming from its solid surface cuts right through the layers of clothing. Five, six. He stops only when there's less than arm's reach between you, then leans to brush away loose strands of hair sticking to your temples. Your stomach goes taut. This scent. Laundry detergent mixed with soap. The turtleneck, grey eyes, very collected kind of Mister.

A sickly shiver of revulsion shoots down your spine, making you curl tighter into a ball. Emory cups your jaw with both hands - they're cold even through the gloves material. This is too close, an unwanted and unpleasant violation of boundaries, and yet he continues to examine your face, like you're some sort of an object he can handle however he pleases.

Your cheek gets a light pat. Any theories about his identity stay unvoiced, mostly because you fear the reaction they might prompt. Something tells you that screaming is a bad idea too. 'Be quiet,' an insistent whisper says deep inside your skull, 'be still.'

His thumbs press to the corners of your mouth. "Open," he orders, and you can't not, even though the whole thing sounds and feels bizarre. "Wider."

There's a quiet click. A flashlight, of those small ones you can easily hold in one hand, shines right into your eyes, making them water from the unexpected brightness. "Don't bite or I'll remove all of your teeth."

It's a simple threat, delivered with such a calm tone, there's no need for yelling when words are that clear and straightforward.

He inspects your mouth, the edges of teeth and gums, your inner cheeks, and you let him, clenching your fists. There's not much you can do, at least that's what you keep telling yourself to ease the heavy, sinking feeling of powerlessness. Your mind chants 'too close' on a loop, urging to wiggle away; you stay. It's unclear what exactly he's looking for - dental or oral diseases, a sore throat, cavities, or the lack of them?

It lasts forever until he straightens back up and puts the light away.

"Good," Emory states. There's another pat to your head before he turns around to leave. "No biting."

The door panel slides with a soft hum, locking shut. And the silence, and the waiting, and the mind numbing monotony is back again.

[descendantsramblings]

I love warm greens fic would you think of doing a part 2 ?

I love them, absolutely I can, sorry this took a minute I didn’t wanna skip too far ahead ❤️It was so fun getting to build the other villains into her friends from being her sister's bullies. I love this little universe so much. That being said, after this I think I am done with these two characters, they have 11,600 words together, I am done with Morgie’s Hearts!GF.

This is a prequel to my story "Warm Greens" which you can find here.

Also I've done some weirddddd things to the lore to make this work, I understand that the Jack of Diamonds is he head guard in the movie and we're all just going to pretend that he's somehow related to the queen so that I may refer to the reader as the princess of diamonds as to use the other red symbol on a deck of cards to draw a tie between the sisters. Thank youuuu.

Cool Reds

Morgie le Fay x Hearts! Reader

Pronouns used: she/her/hers

Summary: She would do whatever it took to keep him, wouldn’t she?

Warnings: Make out scene mentions, swearing, mentions of feeling nauseated/sick from anxieties, crying, use of the looking glass, betrayal of trust, references to Greek mythology (but the lore of the myths is a little off due to time since I read them + Disney)

Word count: 9.2K

Have I used this gif already? I have no idea, anyway

   Everything about Morgie le Fay was down right intoxicating. His mere existence in the same room as her was enough to light her every sense on fire. She was absolutely love drunk, barely swimming through the chalice of his affections and not caring if she drowned in them. How could she ever care about her ability to sink or swim when his lip balm was vanilla and his hands were so soft and his cologne could hang to her clothes for days from just a few hours of him holding her. How could she ever think about anything but him when the scent of him was on the collar of her shirt from just hugging him and the ghost of wind on her neck felt like his fingertips?  What was she meant to do about all this love when bites of cupcakes tasted like kissing him until her lips were numb? He was wrapped around her every waking thought like her entire purpose in leaving Wonderland was to find him. So what was she meant to do when Hook and Uliana found them out? 

    What else could the girl do but agree to whatever it took to keep those vanilla lips and cold hands? They knew better than making out anywhere but her dorm. She didn’t have a roommate, her room was safe, villains have eyes on every fly on the wall. But her room held no flies, it was their sanctuary, the only place they could be close without needing an excuse. Studying could be explained away, them both deciding to go swimming at the enchanted lake could happen by chance. Them both coming back from a new coffee shop or restaurant just mere minutes after each other just had to be a coincidence because why would Wonderland’s finest ever be seen out with a sorcerer of the dark arts? 

   But there was no way to explain this though. You can’t explain away hair that’s been mussed up by grabby hands that got a touch too adventurous. There was no valid reason that Morgie le Fay’s rings should be pressed into (Y/n)’s ribs from under her soft red top. Those kiss-bruised lips and flushed faces being so close could only mean one thing. And by god were they never going to hear the end of it. 

    That corner of the library was meant to be safe, no one ever came back there but them. In the past four months no one had interrupted them even once. It should have been a safe and quiet place for their little study break. But all good things must come to an end. Of course they must, the sons of villains aren’t meant to have good things. Morgie should have known that from the moment that bubbling girl made of red tinted moonlight fell into his arms. He wasn’t meant to have sweet meet cutes, the second he realized he’d have to hide her he should have ended it. She deserved to be seen with someone in broad daylight, not hide behind dorm doors and stacks of dusty old spell books. So whatever his friends had to throw at her, he’d take it like punches. He owed her that. If he could give her nothing else, he could do that. 

   “What have we here? A little scandalous little show, eh? Wonderland’s little princess isn’t the scholar she claims to be?” Hook’s face is unreadable, something that should be cocky and yet falls flat somewhere. Smirk as forced as his raised brow as he stands in front of them with crossed arms, the tip of his hook resting between his teeth. “Just taking a little break,” she hums, and though she should untangle herself from Morgie, she doesn’t. (Y/n) grabs his fleeting hand as it tries to abandon her bare side; holding it gently as she rubs the back of it with her thumb. So confident and relaxed, as if there aren't two villains looking her over with the intensity of a predator stalking prey. “Oh really? No one told me that you took your breaks with villains,” Hook leans down with that forced smile, “When’s my turn, huh?” Her eyes are half lidded, leaning up so their faces are only a few inches apart and Morgie’s heart nearly stops in his chest. Hook can’t take this from him, this is the first good thing that Morgie le Fay has ever had. Hook gets everything he wants, why can’t this just be Morgie’s thing? His one good thing. He will not let them take her from him, he’s sure of that. Hazel eyes stay locked on her lips, listening far too intently. “You won’t get one, Cap. I only kiss villains who are actually attractive.” 

    Her words make the pirate stumble back and Morgie bites his swollen bottom lip to hold in a laugh. That’s his girl, god, that’s his girl. “Well, then it seems you’re doing more than just taking a break, aren’t you? You think we’d be okay with that?” Uliana is looking (Y/n) over as if she’s trying to find something, seeming to be an odd mix of offended and proud. The last time Morgie saw her look at someone like that, Maleficent joined the group. Maybe this could be a good thing. He could only hope this would be a good thing. “You think I care if you’re okay with it?” Nope, not a good thing. Morgie was in for a long, long week.  And potentially a break up, though he really didn’t want to lose either piece of this puzzle. “Oh,” Uliana draws the sound out on a laugh, “You are going to be so fun.” 

                                          ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

    The next time (Y/n) sees Hook, he’s pressing the cool, dull side of his hook into the back of her neck, drawing a line down the part of her spine that her collar leaves uncovered as he tuts. “Princess,” it’s a coo, leaning over her shoulder as he speaks. Bodies so close you’d think that the two of them were thick as thieves. Across from the two Bridget is frozen, watching the pirate tease her sister with wide, terrified eyes. But (Y/n) just takes it, rolling her own eyes with a smirk, “Cap, running errands for your sea witch? I was hoping I meant enough that she would come see me herself.” The princess was a lot of things, but a fool -nor a coward- were titles that were on that list. No, she’d been waiting three days for this. When Uliana left their side in the library, she promised she’d be back with an idea of how she could “make it up to them” for “stealing Morgie from their schemes”. The princess didn’t assume the girl to be all talk, so this little charade came as no shock to her. Of course Uliana wouldn’t come on her own though, always sending Hook or Morgie to do her bidding. Perhaps, one of them was a coward. Whatever the girl had decided on, she could take it, she was positive of that. Morgie made her feel like she was floating, she’d hate to let her feet find the ground again when she’s been given a love like that. 

   “Uliana requests your presence, best not to keep her waiting,” he hums, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and forcing her to turn. “I’ll be back, Bridget. I’ll meet you in class?” She sends her sister a soft smile before turning back to the pirate wrapped around her shoulders, “So she figured out what my debt is, eh?” Though he tries to fight it, you can see the ghost of a smile fighting to replace the smirk on his face as he leads her away. (Y/n) was either the most confident person that he’s ever met or she was the best actor at Merlin Academy. He couldn’t quite read it either way and something about that made the girl so incredibly fascinating. Of course she was pretty, that was obvious, but if she always acts like this Hook can understand what made Morgie fall for her. He’s gently pushing her towards Uliana when they walk through the door, hoping the action looked rougher than it actually was. Smirk replacing his smile as he locks eyes with the excitable and impatient sea witch that stands in the middle of her dorm. This would be fun, by god this would be fun. 

    “Uli, Baby, Hook says you finally decided what you want with me? Took you longer than I thought you would,” she’s smirking as she refinds her footing. A soft, cold hand finds its way onto her shoulder as Morgie slinks up behind her and she fights to keep back the excited smile that begs to stretch across her face at his touch. This was the closest they’ve ever been to a public display of affection, it was impossibly hard not to bask in it. Uliana is raising a brow as she approaches them, “Oh did it? You were hoping I’d get to this faster, huh?” “Well, the faster we get this over with, the faster I can go back to making out with one of your lackeys, right?” Lips press against the top of her head as Morgie uses her hair to muffle his laughter. The feeling of it only eggs her on more, eyes growing ever so slightly more crazed. The sea witch before her lets out a cheap laugh, looking her over, “Yeah, something like that.” 

    A hand slinks up to rest on Morgie's, sparing him an adoring smile over her shoulder. “So, what’s my punishment, Uliana? I do have classes after this, can’t spend all day with the lot of you, dreadful for you I know.” A hand harshly comes out to grip her chin, holding the girl’s gaze on her as she speaks. “Well, we were thinking, since you affected one of our friendships, we should mess with one of yours, huh? An eye for an eye? Of course, you don’t have many friends so that precious sister of yours is going to have to do.” Bridget? Bridget doesn’t even know about (Y/n) and Morgie, she shouldn’t have to be brought into this. God she’d hate to know about the two of them at all. She doesn’t need this. But if that’s what it takes. 

   “What’s in it for me?” The words knock the smirk off of Uliana’s face, rendering the girl speechless. Hades and Maleficent become visible on her left as Hook takes her right side, proud smirks written across all three of their faces. This was a game to them, wasn’t it? She could handle that, (Y/n) likes games too. “Excuse you?” “What’s in it for me? I don’t see how bringing someone innocent into this is warranted unless I’m getting something out of it.” Uliana spares a look to Hades, the god only shrugging in response. “You get to keep Morgie, that’s what you get out of it! This is not a negotiation!” A giggle slips through the princess’ lips, turning around to look at her boyfriend. “What do you think, Baby? We went four months without them knowing, don’t you think we could pull off a fake break up and hide things better? No need to spare her feelings,” her hand slips up onto Morgie’s cheek as she speaks, the boy leaning into her touch as if it was magnetic. Adoring eyes flickering over her face as if he was suddenly unaware of the onlookers in the room. She was so pretty when she got all feisty, god he’d wanted to have her like this around his friends for so long. How bad would it be if Morgie just stole a quick kiss? 

    “That will not be happening,” Uliana’s voice is sharp, grabbing the girl’s shoulder to spin her back around. “Then it looks like this just turned into a negotiation, didn’t it, Uliana?” The girl huffs, glancing back to Hook who just shrugs in response. “What do you want out of it, then?” There’s this annoyed pout trying to hide the amusement that covers the girl in front of her and it makes (Y/n) smirk. “What do I want?” A hand comes out to dust Uliana’s shoulder as she mocks the question. “Yes, what do you want out of it? God, are you always like this?” A hum comes out of the princess’ lips, “Only with prey, darling, only with prey. See, Bridget might be a gentler soul, far more fit to rule, but me? Oh I can negotiate a prince out of his kingdom and  into his own grave. You’re taking my two friends from me for what? A boy that I get to keep kissing in secret? That’s not a fair trade.” 

   Her eyes flicker to Hades and Maleficent, smirking as she looks them over. They’re so close, so public. This constantly visible and proud display of affection no matter where they find themselves. “I want to be able to act like them,” she justs her chin out towards the couple and Uliana’s eyes follow the motion. “Absolutely not, there is no way I’ll allow Morgie to be seen like that with someone who isn’t one of us,” her arms cross over her chest as she glares at (Y/n) and the princess’ smirk only grows. “Oh yeah, well then I guess you’re going to have to let me into your little gang, aren’t you, Uli?” 

                                          ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

     The villain’s hideout at the Black Lagoon is nothing like (Y/n) imagined, but the past three days have led her to realizing it was in no way bad. Actually, she was pretty comfortable there. It was darker than most places in Camelot, closer to the lighting of Wonderland’s sun than the one that shines here. Perhaps that’s why Uliana liked it here, surely the light rivals the refracted version the ocean offered, there had to be something comforting to the sea witch about that. And with the promise of four friends and the most attractive boy she ever laid eyes on coming with the hideout, she had to say she was more than a little excited to be able to come into it openly instead of sneaking about. It was almost time for that, all she had to do was succeed in this one little stunt. One that would finish frogging a relationship her hand had already begun to unravel; of course, isn’t that how she ended up here to begin with? She knew that with Bridget goes Ella too, but did the girl ever actually like (Y/n)? The princess was fairly certain she was dead weight from the moment she stepped out of the rabbit hole; she was ready to go back to being a valuable player like she was back home. Back where Bridget’s only purpose was to rule as a figure head, not nearly mad enough for the kingdom’s own good. 

    This would get her that, surely it would. So why did part of her feel so sick? Her organs twisting around themselves like snakes, dragging against her spine like it was a dagger. Eating her alive from the inside out in a way that she wasn’t used to feeling. This was a good thing, wasn’t it? She’d have Morgie, she’d get to have friends more like the ones she had back home than Ella ever could be. She’d be out from under her sister’s incredibly kind yet cautious gaze. Able to love openly, to be seen by people she’d watched with morbid fascination and curiosity. This would be a good thing. So, (Y/n) pulls her knees up to her stomach and lets her eyes flutter closed. Arms wrapping around her legs as her head falls to rest on top of them. Taking slow breaths in through her nose and letting them shakily leave her mouth. Hoping for anything that will soothe the sickness building up in her gut, this normally worked for her, didn’t it?

Just as she’s beginning to relax, she feels the presence of someone in front of her. The princess tells herself that it’s probably just Morgie coming to check in on her. Or perhaps Hook, the pirate had taken an odd liking to her in the last few days, always seeming to hover, this unreadable look stretched across his otherwise cocky features every time he looked at her. But two calloused and extremely warm hands come to rest on her exposed elbows. There was no way that was Morgie, his hands were far too smooth and cold, more like stone than flames. So (Y/n) spares the energy to look up, eyes flickering to light blue hair and a stoney expression that held a touch more concern than his normal sarcastic features. 

     In the four days that (Y/n) has been hanging around the gang of villains, Hades has found himself quickly growing rather fond of the silver tongued princess. She was a red tinted sunrise on the horizon. Someone he could easily understand taking up space in Morgie’s heart as she’d quickly come to claim a spot in his. Something about her reminded him of his years stuck in time. Of siblings he was once so fond of. She reminded him a touch too much of Demeter, a sliver of life and renewal. Drawn so easily to green and growth, with this small air of selfishness fueled by nothing but her emotional compass. So much like that younger sister of his that he wished he could get her out of this whole thing. The princess of Wonderland was far too much like the goddess of harvest and what they were asking her to do? That was far more aligned with the works of his brothers. Far closer to those drawn straws that he shared with Poseidon and Zues, giving herself the longer straw and taking Olympus for her own hand, casting Bridget to the Underworld, alone in the dark. Could she live with herself if she went through with such a thing? Could Hades live with himself if it destroyed this gift of red apples and bright green leaves? 

   So he sinks to her eye level once he knows he has her attention. Voice small and nearly adoring as he looks at her with the softest expression his features will allow. “Are you sure you can do this, (Y/n)?” She nods but the movement is barely visible, hardly believable. “Your face is starting to match Morgie’s shirt, Princess. There’s no shame in backing out of this.” With his words, the girl’s face hardens, legs falling from their pulled up position to cross before her. (Y/n)’s shoulders square back, her chin rises and she takes on this unmistakable air of confidence. The same look she had when she declared that she wanted to be able to act like himself and Maleficent, she’s making sure that the villains in the room can’t look down on her. And Hades hates to admit to it, but he respects it. “Don’t try to psych me out, Hades. You can’t scare me away,” the tone she held on Monday is there but there's something about it that’s missing. Perhaps it’s just that Morgie is hovering over a cauldron with his own girlfriend and Uliana instead of over her. Hades can’t be quite sure.

   “I’d never,” he rubs his thumb over the side of her elbow as he talks, something about it seems to relax her. Good, at least he can give her that. “I just, listen (Y/n), I know what it feels like to have your sibling betray you. Bridget is your family and after this there is such a high chance that she will never forgive you again. Are you sure you want to take that risk over a boy?” Her red nail polish is stark against his pale skin as she lets a hand fall on top of his, a gentle smile on her lips. “Would you do it for Maleficent?” And Hades pauses, lip between his teeth. Of course he’d betray Zues, Hera, or Poseidon for Mali, he’d give the underworld for her. But if it was Hestia or Demeter, could he do it?  Could Hades betray growth and warmth for love? “I would, a hundred times over.” Something about his words seem to melt away some of the anxiety resting in the princess’ face as she squeezes his hand. “Then yes, I’d do it for Morgie, but I get you guys out of the deal too. I think trading one friend who I can’t hold a conversation with for four friends I can actually talk to is more than a step up.” She moves her hands to rest on her back, pressing into it until Hades hears a harsh “pop”. “Anyway, it’s not like Bridget and I are close at home. She has no friends and I have friends she hates, may as well make school match it. Plus, she never quite forgave me for burning down the West Wing tower while I was arguing with our Mother.” 

    Her answer earns her the most joyous laugh the crew thinks they’ve ever heard come from Maleficent, the dark pixie bouncing up to them with bewilderment in her eyes. “You burned down part of your own castle? Out of spite?” (Y/n) smirks, leaning towards Maleficent with this proud look in her eyes, “Oh, that isn’t even half of it. You know what they say, we’re all a little mad in Wonderland.” “Oh you beautiful little pyro,” Maleficent gives her a smile, reaching out to tap a finger against the tip of her nose. It earns her a playful smirk, the princess’ eyes shining with this mischievous glint as the pixie’s hand recoils. (Y/n) dusts off her pants as Hades rises to his feet before her. Taking an outstretched hand from the god to pull herself up with a confident smile that only Morgie can tell is faker than Hook’s arrogance. “Now, I don’t have all night. If we want me to be able to get into that dorm and get her diary we better get started.” 

    As she makes her way to Morgie, the princess refuses to meet his eyes. Her confidence can only hold for so long and the sorcerer had grown to be able to read her like a book, even from across the room. He was worth it, by the gods he was worth it. But what if Hades had a point? What if she was throwing away a possibly salvageable relationship with her sister for nothing more than a fair weather boy? Of course, Morgie hasn’t given her a reason to feel that way, but there was always the lingering concern, wasn’t there? How often did high school sweethearts turn out to be soulmates? She twirls the ring on her left hand as she looks over the cauldron, the heart shaped stone brushing over the inside of her middle finger and her pinkie as a grounding force as she takes in the blush pink rose that waits at the bottom of the vast black cast iron. She needed to do something for herself while she was in Bridget’s room, there was one thing that could solidify this. She could always lie and say she couldn’t find the diary, back out and run for the hills if she found something that would change her mind, couldn’t she? (Y/n) leans into the new found warmth of Morgie’s arm around her shoulder, the chill of his fingertips against her bicep grounding her to the moment. This is it, isn’t it? 

    With a delicate brush of her fingers, Uliana lifts the soft rose from the bottom of the cauldron, smiling at the girl who was quickly proving herself to be quite a good asset to her team. “Now, you’ll have to be careful with this, the spell on it can only affect one person. Make sure Bridget pricks her finger on one of the thorns, it will knock her out for six hours. Little Miss. Sunshine will wake up tomorrow with a completely normal flower in her hands and think she just fell asleep, got it?” (Y/n) nods, taking a deep breath as she reaches forward for the rose, eyes locked onto the soft, pale petals. It took Maleficent and Uliana forever to decide on a way to get the spell into the overly preppy princess; her sister could not mess this up for them. “Hook, Hades, and Maleficent are going to be waiting on you down the hall from her dorm. Mali here will use a speed reading spell to find the best pages in the diary and make copies of them. Then you, Hook, and Hades are going to plaster the courtyard in the copies, I don’t want any of the cobblestone visible, understand me?” And she nods again, visibly seeming to understand her place in the group as a lackey already. Good. 

     Before the princess can reach out for the rose, Morgie’s fingers catch under her chin, drawing her face up to him. “We should kiss first, for good luck.” How could she ever question that? What could ever lead her away from his perfect pale pink lips? So she smiles, letting her hand find his cheek as if it were second nature for her. (Y/n) pulls the boy down softly against her lips, pecking them with the softest kiss her anxious form can muster. “You be safe,” he whispers against her lips, pulling away from them in the gentlest way he can before pressing another quick kiss to his lover’s forehead. And she nods with a tight lipped smile, watching as he reaches for the cursed rose.

                                          ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

     Bridget’s dorm, much like her room back home, perfectly matches her. It’s almost a comforting sight to (Y/n)’s anxiously bouncing eyes. Or it would be if she didn’t know what she was here to do. The pink dorm room smells like strawberries and white chocolate, surely the scent comes from the little oven that waits patiently on a table in the girls room. The machine visibly on and letting out a soft hum as it bakes whatever it is her sister is making. Finally, as she forces them to stop bouncing, her eyes land on Bridget. Her bright pink hair is already done up in foam rollers at the top of her head, a magazine resting in her hands as she waits on whatever she’s baking to finish up so she can go to bed. (Y/n) fights to steady her hands as she approaches her sister, holding the rose carefully behind her back. 

   “Hey Bridge!” The gentle tone in her voice makes the girl lift her head, smiling at her with this nearly fond look on her face. “Everything okay?” No, it’s not. I am about to absolutely ruin you. “Yeah, I just went on a hike and I found the loveliest rose bush near the enchanted lake. The flowers made me think of you so,” she delicately pulls the bloom out from behind her back, offering it with a nervous smile to her always excitable sister. And just like she knew she would, Bridget bounces in her seat, reaching up for the pale pink flower with excited hands. (Y/n) drops her grip on the stem, barely avoiding a thorn as she lets it fall and Bridget’s hand circles around it, hissing slightly as one of the thick barbs jabs into the soft pad of her thumb. “Oh, ow,” she mumbles, readjusting the flower into her other hand so she can look at the prick point. It didn’t break skin, (Y/n) hopes it doesn’t have to for the spell to work. “Sorry, I should have warned you I didn’t take them off,” her voice is riddled with her anxiety and she can only hope that her sister can’t tell it’s not connected to the tiny flesh wound she’s earned. 

    Bridget shakes her head with a smile, letting the rose rest on the bed beside her, “No it’s okay! Really I should be more careful.” A yawn follows the words, big brown eyes slowly becoming harder to see through heavy eyelids. “I mean, why wouldn’t there be thorns on a rose, right?” She’s letting her eyes flutter closed, losing the fight to keep them open. And (Y/n) watches somewhere in between relief and horror as her sister slumps to her side on her bed, body nearly toppling over as her magazine hits the floor. She should feel awful, but some odd part of her relaxes, moving to adjust Bridget on the bed just like the pink girl had done for her a hundred times before when she’d come home after a touch too much fun. Gentle hands take the girls legs and pull them onto the bed, laying the soft pink fleece throw from the bottom of the bed over her tired form. The magazine being lifted up and placed onto the nightstand, the rose settling on top of it. Not that Bridget will want anything to do with the flower this time tomorrow, but the morning version of her would feel terrible if she were to step on it. (Y/n) knows this. 

    Quite frankly, (Y/n) knows her half-estranged sister a touch too well. Which is how she knows exactly where the white leather bound journal she bought her two Christmases ago will be sitting. The spine standing out stark and bare on her bookshelf between a copy of “Romeo and Juliet” and some enchanted pastries cookbook. It’s an invasion of privacy to even touch the thing, let alone to hand it over to her tormentors to use it against her. She’ll probably abandon the thing once and for all after this though, not the (Y/n) isn’t hyper aware of what type of things will be littering the pages. Things about how cute she thought Hook was when they first started school here, how she just doesn’t understand why she finds Ella oh so charming, mentions of how truly lonely Camelot is, how lonely Wonderland always was. Every single thought the girl had would be waiting in that journal and now the stark white is waiting patiently between her hands. Pure innocence against the violent red of her coffin shaped nails. Without any other thoughts to what she was doing, she slips the book under her arm, hands ghosting back over her shelf. (Y/n) just needed one more thing before she could slip out the door with this little book, one little push to prove that even if it hurt someone she was supposed to love, what was happening would mean something. There it is, waiting on the edge of a mid tier shelf, dust coating the top of its red gems. 

    Of course there would be dust on it. Bridget loves surprises, always swore to never use the thing, but her sister? Oh (Y/n) needs it, so desperately in a way she’d never needed anything before. Her hand reaches out for the little mirror, bottom lip between her teeth as she grasps it. “Alright, looking glass,” she whispers it, as if her new found friends would hear her down the hall, or Bridget had the ability to wake up before her spell wore off. “I need you to prove to me that this is worth it. What does my future look like with Morgie? Where does this go?” Shaking hands pop open the compact little mirror, looking herself dead in the eye, she whispers the words again. Her stomach swirling in a mix of hope and fear that’s nearly enough to make bile rise to her mouth as her reflection clouds over. Then, it dissipates, leaving a new image in the wake of her own watchful eye’s reflection. 

    A man, probably one seven or so years older than she is right now is looking back at her in the glass, and though she’s never seen him like this before, she’d recognize those eyes anywhere. He’s laughing- a sound that (Y/n) can’t truly hear but she knows all too well- with a little girl dressed in red perched on his shoulders, one hand tangled in his hair. She’s clearly pulling his hair as she reaches down for something but Morgie won’t quite let her get to it. Then the image pulls out slightly, revealing a woman who is probably somewhere in her mid twenties, she’s in red too and it takes the princess a moment to realize who she’s looking at. Watching the way tired eyes look up to Morgie with a fondness, looking between a blanket resting in her arms and the man before her as she says something that (Y/n) can’t quite hear. It’s her, and the blanket isn’t just a blanket. Now the face of a baby looks up from the green knit material as this older version of herself references from the baby’s little nose and up to Morgie’s. It’s them, happy and laughing and holding two kids who both seem to be under the age of four and it’s so cozy. As if the four of them don’t recognize anything but the love existing between them. 

    The sight seems to settle some knot in her stomach as she lets the gold compact close again. (Y/n) puts it gently back into it’s place before she turns to Bridget again. She gets a family from this, yes maybe she loses one too , but she gets her dream life from this one little step. And that means something, doesn’t it? For her to get what she wants from this life is enough for her to do this one, fairly harsh, thing. Morgie isn’t a fair weather boy, he’s the sunlight that shines off of the green grass of the forest floor. She can do this if it means a life with him, the princess is sure of that. So she does the last acts of kindness she can afford to give her sister. She crosses to her oven, smiling as she reaches in time with the timer’s little ding, and pulls out the strawberry cookies that the other princess had undoubtedly spent an hour or so on, letting the hot tray rest  on a spare pot holder. And as she turns off the table top oven, she turns to look at her sister, the future queen of Wonderland, who sleeps soundly on her bed. (Y/n) lets herself wander to the girl’s bedside, laying a feather-like kiss onto her forehead, and with this final act of kindness, she finds her way back to Bridget’s door. 

   Walking out of the pink, and the Wonder, and the Hearts family line. And into something new, something dark blue and maroon and black. Into the le Fay line and the waiting hands and hooks of friends who were more like her than (Y/n) would have admitted to herself five months ago. She lets her speed pick up, running to the waiting hands of Hook and Maleficent who both hold a look somewhere between wicked excitement and annoyance. “What took so long?” The dark pixie’s words are hissed as she puts a well manicured hand out for the white leather book. “She moved the damned thing,” the princess hisses back, letting it fall into Maleficent’s hand as she leans into Hook’s side. Unable to watch as Maleficent tears her sister’s psyche apart, she lets her eyes flicker over to the pirate beside her. Hook is smiling at her -not his normal cocky smirk but this real genuine, almost kind thing- looking more proud of her than her parents ever have as he pats her shoulder in this nearly loving way. “You did good, Princess. You did really good.” She smiles back to him, fighting the “thank you” that begs to hang off her tongue as she turns back to the pixie and the god before her. 

    “Hey Mali,” she starts and the pixie doesn’t correct her to using her full name. She’s earned the nickname now, or at least (Y/n) supposes that’s what that means. “Yes?” There was one more kindness that she could spare her sister, (Y/n) has to do one last thing for her. She owes Bridget that. “I was thinking -and I know that the plan was already set in stone so you can tell me no- what if we changed a few things in the copies?” Maleficent’s eyes flash this sickly green hue as they flicker up to her, a blank expression taking over the rest of her features. “Like what?” “Well,” she doesn’t realize she’s wrapped her arm around Hook until she feels her fingers wrap around cold metal. The sensation seems to stabilize her though, the girl taking a deep breath as she continues, “Bridget is head over heels for Ella, and I know that the little peasant,” the insult pains her to say it but she pushes through, “has the hots for my sister too. So what if we changed the name of the girl she’s writing about to be someone else? Make it where her crush thinks her love is unrequited so that Bridget can’t have her?” Mali’s smirk is undoubtedly proud as she looks (Y/n) over, “You might just be more nasty than we thought, Princess.” 

                                          ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

      Bridget Hearts knows that something feels off when she wakes up that next morning. She’s far more groggy than she’s used to being, something about being awake feels too far off, but she is. Strangest of all, she doesn’t remember being tired, she has no knowledge of falling asleep, but obviously she did. And from the red lipstick mark on her forehead, and the pink blanket she woke up tucked beneath, she knows her sister was still there when she fell asleep. It’s an oddly comforting thought, the roles of the two girls being reversed, but it’s enough to put a slight pep in Bridget’s step as she packs up her strawberry cookies and makes her way down the hall to meet Ella at the school’s front entrance. 

    She tries not to think anything of it as her friend grabs her hand, leading her to the cafeteria to grab their breakfast before making their way to the courtyard like they always do. Nothing about what the two girls are doing is abnormal. They’re falling into their daily routine like they always have, talking about how Ella’s night was and about the Prince who clearly wants to date her. Bridget trying not to give into her jealousy over Prince Charming. It would be perfectly mundane, if it wasn’t for the whispering. Those pointed eyes that seem to follow Bridget everywhere she goes, as if they can see through her. She has half the nerve to look down and check that she remembered pants that morning. Bridget feels thoroughly exposed to the gazes of the student body around her, and yet she has no clue what they’re seeing. 

    It’s when they make their way into the courtyard that Bridget begins to understand what’s happening. The cobblestone that surrounds it is covered in pages of something. And those pages have a far too familiar pink hue to them, the corners marked with spades and hearts and clubs and diamonds, just like the diary that her sister gifted her a few years before. She puts her breakfast tray down beside Ella and Bridget promises that she’ll be right back, wandering over to one of the walls as she feels every eye in the courtyard watching her. When she reaches it though, Bridget doesn’t have to look hard to recognize her own handwriting, her eyes skimming a few pages. “Any yeah, I know he’s a pirate but maybe he’d want to steal my heart as well as treasure.” “Of course, I understand how (Y/n) makes friends easier but that doesn’t mean it’s not incredibly lonely. I miss the way that it used to be.” “If I knew that boarding school would be as lonely as being homeschooled, maybe I would have just stayed in Wonderland. Of course I have Ella but I wish more people saw me. Maybe I should try using my baking skills, people like gifts, don’t they?” 

    And as if it’s knocking the air out of her lungs, her eyes land on the worst of it. “Obviously someone like Aladdin would be able to get her attention, I’m an idiot for ever thinking that she would see me. I mean, I’m just the idiot who thought leaving Wonderland could get her more friends, that’s my stupid mistake. But even though Jasmine doesn’t seem interested in him, I can’t help but wish she’d tell him that. I want her to look at me, not him and his stupid hair.” Though she’d pinned them down as her diary entries a few lines ago, this one is just wrong. She wasn’t talking about Jasmine and Aladdin, Bridget didn’t have a crush on Jasmine. This was originally about Ella, about Ella and Prince Charming’s stupid hair and his stupid smile and his stupidly obvious crush on the girl that Bridget wanted just as badly. With her eyes growing more blurry by the second, Bridget pulls away, turning as she hears a wicked little laugh behind her. 

    The sound feels unnatural as (Y/n) lets it slip from her lips. The princess nearly cringing at the forced laughter she lets out as she looks at her sister. Bridget with her teary eyes and quivering lip, staring at the arm wrapped around the girl’s shoulder as if it was a snake about to lash out at snap at her. Then her eyes travel, away from Morgie le Fay’s arm and down to the white leather resting between bright red coffin shaped claws. “Sis, thank you so much for letting me borrow this book, it was a real,” she forces another laugh, “Page turner.” Bridget’s mouth falls open and closed a few times, as if she can’t force a sound out of her throat. Eventually, after a choked sob, the pink girl manages to clench her fists, something in the motion seeming to ground her as she looks at her, “You did this? How? When? Why?” 

   It’s nearly impossible not to shrink away into her boyfriend’s side, (Y/n) wasn’t quite ready to see her sister look this impossibly broken. She felt sick, that same taste of bile that welled into her mouth last night fighting to make its way back. “You liked the rose, didn’t you, Bridge? I just thought you know, a gift,” her hand waves to Bridget and then to the wall and the rest of the villains, “For a gift.” She tosses the book in her hands away from her like it’s poison, letting it find a home in front of Bridget’s shoes as she reaches her now empty hand up to her shoulder to hold onto Morgie’s. He presses a kiss to her temple, laughing as he watches Bridget scramble to get her diary. And then, in the snap of Maleficent’s perfectly manicured fingers, the pink pages wallpapering the cobblestones are gone. “Just needed a little fun for our new girl is all,” Uliana all but coos the words to the pink princess before her, stepping closer, “I’m pretty sure you know her? Morgie’s girlfriend?” Bridget recoils as if Uliana’s slapped her, and (Y/n) watches tears finally fall from her eyes as she turns on her heel and runs away from all six VKs. 

   Finally, without the watching eyes of her shattering sister, the princess lets herself shrink down, shoulders slumping as she crumbles into Morgie’s gentle embrace. He knows her too well, far too well, because after he feels her shift, he turns to his friends and promises they’ll be right back. With their nods and “okays” they all move to go back to their breakfast table, and Morgie pulls his lover into one of the hallways beside the courtyard. A quiet and dark one, the least used of them, and he untangles himself from her. Instead moving to stand in front of (Y/n), one hand on her shoulder while the other tilts her head up from by chin. “Hey, you did it, it’s over,” his voice is barely above a whisper, looking her over as if he’s trying to check her for injuries. The princess nods, reaching up a slightly shaky hand to rest on his cheek, pulling the boy down and into a real kiss. 

   This one isn’t like the other ones they’ve shared. Not quick and timid pecks of two kids sneaking around and scared to get caught. Not the gentle and quick kiss they shared before this all started last night. No where near the needy and touchy make out sessions they’d take any chance they had the time. Nor the playful and touchy kisses that turned into tickle fights and neck kiss. But something new. Soft, delicate as a rose petal. It’s warmth meeting cold, skin meeting scales, the green of grass getting caught up in the red sky of a early autumn sunrise. As if she was managing to seal their energies into one, locking him to her in the only way the two teens knew how. The kiss was them, and Morgie le Fay knew no other way to describe it. When she pulls away, leaving her forehead pressed to his, he can’t bring himself to open his eyes yet. Instead, breaking the grin on his lips to softly ask, as if he feared scaring her off, “What was that for?” 

   She giggles, this sound that isn’t quite like the one that spilled from her lips when she realized the position she’d fallen into when she tripped over her untied shoelace and fell into his lap four months ago. But it’s closer to her real laugh than he’s heard in a week, and this giggle can be enough for him right now, because even if she said she was okay with it, he knows the girl he loves just broke her own heart for him. “I just put myself through hell to be able to do that, I couldn’t wait a second longer.” And yeah, this can be enough for him right now, especially when she’s leaning back into him, as if their lips have their own magnetic pull to them. 

                                          ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

    Oddly enough, on her first day as an official villain, Hades and Maleficent ask her to hang out, and who would (Y/n) be if she said no? It was nice, even if it meant that she didn’t get back to her dorm until seven p.m. when she’d only gotten three hours of sleep before being up at six a.m. for class. Turns out that the two were nicer than she thought, they might even have the ability to grow into two of her closest friends. Especially if they keep talking to her like she deserves to be seen. She’s pretty sure that Morgie is the only person who has ever tried to see her, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have his -their- friends see her too. Not as the rebel or the princess of diamonds, not as the arsonist or the bad sister, but as (Y/n). She wouldn’t mind that she was just now getting back from seeing people who wanted to see her soul, her exhausted mind begging her to go to sleep this early, if it wasn’t for the cardboard box outside of her dorm. 

    The thing is an obvious eyesore in an otherwise well decorated hallway; so despite the voice that begs her not to touch it, (Y/n) bends down and grabs it. Toting the thing into her room and letting it fall to the desk. The same voice that begged her not to touch the box now tries to convince her not to open it. But the princess of diamonds has always had the curiosity of a cat. So she ignores the voice for the second time that day, lifting the cardboard lid and letting it clatter to the floor. She knows the contents of the box well enough to know exactly where it all came from but (Y/n) lifts the pink paper that sits on the top of it anyway. Brows furrowing as something falls from the page, clattering against the ground like metal as she flips open the folded sheet. 

   The paper is from the same journal that got her to this point, a diamond sitting in the bottom corner of the page which felt terribly deliberate. And Bridget’s perfect handwriting is surrounded by marks that the other princess is sure had to have been born from tears, shaking hands barely holding it steady. “I don’t need to look into the looking glass to know we don’t come back from this one. Signed, The Princess of Hearts.” Somewhere, deep inside of herself, (Y/n) knows exactly what fell to the floor when she opened the note. But that doesn’t stop the princess from dropping to her knees to search for it. She’s right, of course she’s right, there laying on her hardwood floor, rests a golden band that holds a red marquis cut stone. Suddenly the heart shaped ring on (Y/n)’s finger weighs fifteen pounds. 

                                          ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

     Hook was not the type that enjoyed when his quiet time was disturbed, and he definitely considered the rushed banging on his door room door to be just that. But with Morgie not in the room, it seems that it’s left up to him to answer whoever thinks they have the right to interrupt his viewing of tonight’s episode of “Three’s a Crowd”. The pirate throws his legs over the side of the bed, storming over to the door and ripping it open as the incessant knocking seems to grow louder. “Can I fucking help,” he cuts his own question short, eyes falling on the princess he seems to be growing oddly attached to, “(Y/n) what’s wrong?” 

   That one little question seems to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back, the princess falling into shaking sobs as her knees buckle beneath her. Hook doesn’t think about it as he reaches out for her, letting his arms slide beneath hers to steady the girl, pulling her into both his chest and his dorm. “Hey,” he’s never been the best with crying and the feeling of her hot tears sinking into his pajama top is almost unnerving but he does his best to sound gentle. “Hey, princess, what is it? I’ve got you.” Through strangled sobs she manages to speak, “Where is he? I need him.” He softly pressed her head to rest further into his -now wet- shoulder, adjusting his grip on her to hold her ever so slightly tighter. “He’s just in the shower, he’ll be back any minute. Lass, talk to me, what happened?” 

    It's nearly impossible for him to decipher through the blubbering tears that rack the girl’s body but Hook follows along the best that he can. Something about matching rings of each other’s symbols and baby pictures being given back to her. A story of a page from a stolen diary and two princesses that would never be sisters by anything but blood ever again. The princess painting a tale of a light in the dark shining through in the visions of a compact mirror that proved she’d be a le Fay by name and have a family through love. And finally through a last shaking sob, she says the first thing that Hook fully can grasp. “Hades told me that it would feel this bad but, god. Hook, she hates me. How am I supposed to spend three months at home with her and away from Morgie when I chose him over her?” 

    He might not be able to do much. Hook can’t fix this, he can’t look to her and admit that he feels so incredibly guilty. He can’t tell (Y/n) that he’s known about her and Morgie for two, almost three, whole months now and didn’t care. That Morgie came home with her signature red lipstick lingering on his collar and he knew immediately where his roommate had been sneaking off to because no one at Merlin Academy thought red lips were a staple but the princess before him. Hook can’t admit to the girl that he never cared about their relationship, he can’t admit that he thought this entire thing was fucked and terrifying. The pirate can’t tell her that he can’t turn off the part of his mind wondering if Uliana would do this to keep her claws in the sorcerer that already worships her, what would she do to his potential partner? He can’t tell her anything about this situation that would make him feel like less than a dick, but he can keep her out of that castle. He can protect her from a bomb that he helped to craft. 

    So Hook lets his mouth fall open, and as if it was the most casual thing on Earth, he speaks this heavy and adoring offer into existence. “You could always join my crew, Morgie, and I on the Jolly Roger this summer. No need to go home and see her constantly if you don’t want to. I already let a sorcerer use my ship to escape a house that doesn’t feel like a home, I’d be more than willing to let a negotiator join my crew too.” She looks to him, a ghost of a smile dotting her lips, and for the first time since she entered his dorm, the girl takes a steady breath. “Do you mean that?” He nods, untangling himself from the girl so she can see him better, so she can take in the honesty that litters his features. “Only if that’s something you want, Lass.” “Please,” she breathes the word out, smiling at the pirate with this gentle sense of hope in her eyes. And yeah, maybe Hook did lead her to the slaughter, but now he’d be her adoring cattle dog instead. 

   Morgie walks in as she speaks, pulling a t-shirt over his head, curls out and visible from the water that clings to them. Of course he’s heard at least the tail end of their conversation, far too many questions wait to roll off his tongue. But first, he smiles because he can finally have her in his room and it not be a problem. So the sorcerer walks up to his girlfriend, pulling her against him and pressing a kiss to her heated and slightly salty cheek, “To what do I owe the honor?” She’s turning in his arms, nuzzling into the crook of his neck with her arms around his waist, “Can I stay here tonight? Currently every physical thing that exists in terms of my relationship with my sister is sitting in my dorm and I just can’t be there.” And of course his answer is yes, why wouldn’t it be yes? He’s been waiting months for a chance to fall asleep in her arms, and that’s what all of this mess was for, wasn’t it? The purpose of all of this chaos was to be able to reach the calm in their storm, was it not? So he lets another kiss fall to the top of her head as he tightens his grip on her, and he sends a thankful look to the pirate in the tear stained tee. Maybe Morgie le Fay was meant to have a family, even if it came in the form of red tinted moonlight and rocking waves.