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#morgie le fay x you
gay-dorito-dust · 2 months
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hii can you do morgie/ hook (seperate) and the reader is like a goody two shoes and like really shy and they notice her because shes friends with ella and bridget
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Morgie le Fay’s head perked up much like that of a dog’s upon noting the third person trailing being Bridget and Ella; you.
A Shy goody two shoes with no voice to speak of, mouse like more then just name but in mannerisms and personality and more, but despite all of this and barely even knowing your name Morgie was finding himself more and more intrigued as he watched you cross the courtyard with your head held down from where he stood.
Morgie knew where his loyalties lie but his heart was in search for someone else whose words of validation, encroachment and praise were as genuine and as sweet as your shy nature. His mother -Morgana Le Fay- wasn’t always there and could be often times be forgetful that he was her actual son, rather than someone she could just blame for all her misdeeds and mistakes in magic and life alike; Much like all villainous parents who walked through life without much of a comfort in their own devious lives, their actions are as inexcusable as their own parental style was.
You could feel his eyes pierce their stare into your head as you quickly glanced at him before becoming flustered upon seeing him smile at you as you ducked your head even further down, much to Bridget’s and Ella’s concern. Morgie felt like he could watch you for days on end and never grow bored, he wondered what your voice would sound like, your laugh, your expressive eyes and so much more to the point that he hasn’t realised that Hook had caught him in the act.
‘The shy ones caught your eye have they?’ Hook asks.
‘What? No. More like bothering me with their…quietness.’ Morgie tried to cover up but failed miserably upon seeing Hook’s unchanged expression as he crossed his arms over his chest. Morgie visibly deflates when he knows the gig was up for him.
‘Okay so maybe I was looking at them,’ Morgie admits but was quick to rectify himself when he saw Hook’s brow being to raise, ‘but that doesn’t necessarily mean that I like them. I was just…looking. Nothing more nothing less.’ He adds in a halfhearted laugh that quickly died in his throat shortly afterwards.
‘I’ve got nothing against you being with them Morgie,’ Hook begins, ‘but you know I can’t say the same for the others.’ He adds as he glances at you before looking back at his friend who had his feelings evident within his expressive hazel eyes. ‘So tread carefully if you are to follow that big old heart of yours. After all I can only act like I didn’t see anything for so long.’ Hook concluded as he pats Morgie on the shoulder twice encouragingly before leaving his friend to keep staring at you like an infatuated fool.
‘I will.’ Morgie says to himself as he finds himself filled with a new found determination.
Hook
Didn’t take long to notice your shy demeanour from where he stood in the academy’s vast garden. He has seen you in the company of Ella and Bridget on more than one unpleasant occasion, but here you were in the company of only yourself on a stone bench amidst flowers in full bloom.
You looked picturesque in that moment like a renaissance painting crafted by the most skilful pair of hands in existence. However he wasn’t one to speak this thought aloud to anyone, founding himself more content with withholding such a thought in his chest until he died.
You were quite as a mouse, shy as a one too as you often hide yourself in the background to avoid being seen but James always managed to seek you out without issue, something he saw as an problem considering who you were friends with and the crew whom he held his loyalty towards; he remembers how often you avoid confrontation with him as you’d always side step him when he got too close or even evaded being in the same room as him all the while ducking your head and holding your books close to your chest that they might as well mould into your very skin.
However with neither of your friends in sight hook decided to forgo everything and seat himself next to you just as you closed the book you had took out from the library, holding it close to your chest as he had expected of you to do.
‘All alone are you little mouse?’ Hook asks rhetorically as he smirks at your wide eyed expression. ‘Your friends ran off elsewhere then to be with you have they?’
‘Well I don’t see yours nearby either.’ You said softly as you found yourself easily entranced by his eyes, his hair, right down to his cocky smirk. It wouldn’t have been too bad falling for him had he not been a villain, however live makes things difficult to navigate when you’ve been told how to view things by the adults in your life, rather then allow you to formulate your own opinions.
Hook raised his brow in surprise at your quip, he wasn’t expecting someone as meek as you to have held back such a sharp tongue this entire time. ‘Struck a never did I?’ He says as he leans in closer to you, watching as you leaned away from him but only by so much before you’d fall off the stone bench completely, what you didn’t know was that hook wouldn’t let you fall but wouldn’t let you in on that until it was called for.
‘No, i just know you shouldn’t be seen with a goofy two shoes like me, it’ll ruin your standing in your own group.’ You tell him with slightly more confidence in your own voice but still being shy in meeting his observant eyes, trying to remember everything that Bridget and Ella have told you and start standing your ground.
‘And you think you wouldn’t be crucified by your own friends for being seen with me either?’ Hook replied as you both looked at each other in silence, knowing that both of you were right but didn’t want to agree to saying such a ridiculous thing. Yes your friends would throughly question you on why he was so close to you as would his own, but in this moment that didn’t matter as you continued to stare the other down as conflicting feelings clashed within yourselves.
‘Perhaps,’ you began shyly as you were the first to look away from hook and down at your lap, all the while hook kept his eyes firmly on you and you only, drinking you all in while he could, memorising everything about you and keeping it locked within his heart. ‘But at least mine would be more understanding and see reason.’ You add as you got the courage to stand up from the bench and inside the academy, leaving hook to mull over what just happened and sigh as he remembers what Morgie told him earlier.
‘You look at them with the most adoring gaze while yet cursing out their name and everything they stand for, you hate to like them but like them too much to actually hate them.’
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ivorydragoness44 · 1 month
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Morgie Le Fay x Merlin’s Kid! Reader: Blush
(A/N: A collaborative piece between @where-dreamers-go and @ivorydragoness44 for an insert reader who is headmaster Merlin’s kid attending Merlin Academy. A little moment between classes where friends and everyone in between could interact. Warnings: None. Word Count: 642 words)
A dazzling blue sky day and fresh air greeted you as you stepped outdoors. Another class completed. A few minutes were allotted before the next and you took the opportunity wholeheartedly.
Your mind needed the break as much as you needed to stretch your legs.
Rounding a corner, you caught sight of pink and blue. Familiarity struck your mind.
At it again, you thought while spotting well-decorated baked goods on a tray. Where does she find the time? There was no lying to be had, they looked delicious.
Bridget, with enough kindness to spread across all the lands, was offering dessert to Uliana. It was not the first time either. You highly doubted it would be the last.
Expressions were bright, but the other young villains approached with alarming eagerness. Mischief in tow.
Ella stood firm by her friend. Defensive position, perhaps? Or unyielding loyalty?
No time to act like the present, you thought as you walked over. Silent support. No confrontations. Strength in numbers. Keeping positivity up was an easy disguise of reminders not to go against the family rules. No headmaster’s office trip equals no grounding.
Bridget glanced over to you in minor surprise. Her signature smile widened.
Keep things friendly. Neutral.
All was such for a moment.
An even more familiar presence stepped into your personal space to greet you with glowing eyes. “Are you here for the sweet treats?” Morgie asked with an open-mouthed grin. A teasing challenge.
You could feel the others’ gazes on you then.
“They’re always welcome to have one.” Bridget stated kindly, trying to keep the peace.
But you couldn’t resist an opportunity to play. If only just a little.
Turning directly to Morgie, you let your eyes shine with your own magic and inquired in a near whisper, “Is that why you’re right here?”
You both stood there a long moment. Two magic users staring intently. Locked in the start of a challenge.
Bridget giggled, “He’s blushing.”
Everyone’s focus landed on the boy in front of you.
You blinked.
Indeed, Morgie’s cheeks were flushed, and the glowing of his eyes faded with the self realization.
That’s new.
He tore his gaze from yours and pulled at his scarf, as if it was suddenly too tight.
Laughter erupted behind him as the villains took a look at their companion. They were no less bewildered than he was.
“Just warming up?” Hook smirked and threw his arm around Morgie.
The blush crept to Morgie’s neck and ears.
Again, you were struck with another layer of surprise.
What’s happening?
A dramatic groan escaped Uliana as she rolled her eyes.
In a manner of a few seconds, decorated desserts were snatched and the villains left as fast as they appeared.
Calm surrounded the three of you in the abrupt quiet.
“That was unexpected,” Ella voiced with a hint of disbelief.
“Agreed.” You watched as Morgie was lead away and out of sight.
“Especially you.” Bridget pivoted on the spot.
You threw your hands up defensively. “I wasn’t trying to start trouble. I promise.”
“Morgie was.” Ella crossed her arms.
Her friend smirked and added, “Not that kind of trouble.” Bridget glanced at you again.
“What are you getting at?” You asked, brows furrowing in the slightest.
“Maybe magic is in the air and Morgie…felt something.” A knowing smile followed her words, encouraging and sweet.
“Heh, uh, I don’t think — no. Not that.”
She nodded, pink curls bouncing.
“Then he must have bumped his head and forgot I’m the headmaster’s kid.”
“He’s bad news.” Ella stated simply.
“Morgie’s…” You couldn’t form the sentence. No words pulling negatively toward the boy could be uttered. Your shoulders dropped.
Oh, no. You thought as your stomach fluttered.
“I need to get to class.” Hastily, you raced out of the courtyard with a rush of conflicting emotions and thoughts.
~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~
Thank you for reading! Be sure to check out @where-dreamers-go
Also, if you'd like to read more Disney's Descendants, view my blog's pinned post: My Masterlist of Masterlists
Disney's Descendants Fanfiction Masterlist is coming soon!
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hurts2think · 1 month
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Young Bridget Hearts x Morgie's sister who does not want to be a villain like his brother headcanons? Fluff and maybe some suggestive if you are comfortable with it?Thank youu
🎀Young!Bridget Hearts x Reader Headcanons🎀
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Reader pronouns: she/her
Pairing: Young!Bridget Hearts x Fem!reader
Plot: You're the daughter of Morgana Le Fay and also Morgie's sister! You and Bridget start a not-so-secret relationship.
Extra: I don't know a lot about Morgana Le Fay so this was kind of hard to put together or make interesting, but I hope you like it!🫶🎀
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- When you first started attending Merlin, naturally you hung around your brother, Morgie a lot. Which meant you were around the other VKs a lot too.
- Though you were also technically a VK, you never felt like you fit in with the other VKs. You didn’t get the same joy out of bullying and messing with the other students
- You started to notice one girl particularly getting picked on by your brother and his friends, Bridget Hearts.
- You always kind of admired her from afar. She was so bubbly and cheery compared to you. She wore bright colors and always had a smile. Total opposite from you.
- You started feeling bad for her after all the bullying so you decided that when the other VKs weren’t around, you’d go find her to make sure she was okay.
- It didn’t take long before you guys became friends. She was enthusiastic to make a new friend but disappointed that her new friend was always hanging out with her bullies.
- You hated the secret friendship with her and how you felt like your feelings for her were slowly developing into something else.
- Even though Morgie was one of the people who messed with her and might tell the other VKs, you found it impossible to hide anything from your brother.
- He found out pretty quickly that you had a thing for Bridget and encouraged you to tell her
- That somehow helped and you told her you liked her.
- And to your surprise, she confessed she grew feelings for you too!
- You started dating but you insisted on keeping it secret because of the VKs to which Bridget hesitantly agreed.
- You have a snake companion named Patch who usually hides in your bag or the sleeve of your jacket and comes out when she feels like it.
- At first Bridget was surprised and horrified of Patch but almost immediately warmed up to her upon seeing how sweet and friendly Patch was.
- The two of you eventually planned to make your relationship public at castle coming and planned a dance together that was a combination of Shuffle of Love and your magic to enhance the performance
- You two practiced for hours, usually you spent most of the time messing up and giggling about it or getting distracted by each other
- Bridget is the best at comfort. If her and Patch are comforting you, you can’t stay upset for long
- Though for the most part your relationship was wholesome, sometimes it would get a little heated.
- Bridget was always very soft and caring with every touch but she was surprisingly very quick to take control when it came to any type of heated make out session or touching.
- Her touches were firm and controlling but still soft and comforting, letting you know it was all still safe
- She didn’t mind if you liked taking control either, she was always happy with it either way.
- To your shock, she has a bit of a dirty mind too
- Before things get too explicit you guys usually just end up giggling and laughing, unable to take things seriously and ruin the mood.
- You two like to mess with each other and whisper suggestive things in each other’s ears while out and about to get the other blushing and squirming.
- She likes to hold your hand or thigh under the table
- Despite your relationship being ‘secret’ and not telling anyone, it started to become pretty obvious by everyone around
- SO much cuddling. Cuddling 24/7. You spend the night a lot in her dorm and you two basically cuddle and talk the whole time
- Everytime you kiss her, whether it’s on the mouth, or forehead, or cheek, she will smile so brightly and light up your whole world.
- Your personalities contradict each other, you’re more quiet and usually have a scowl on your face while she’s an absolute ray of sunshine
- If it wasn’t Uliana messing with her, you would’ve been perfect scary dog privileges for her. You could scare pretty much anyone else off considering your reputation as the daughter of the most powerful sorcerers ever
- As castlecoming gets closer you two try on dresses together and are hardly any help with picking out dresses because you both just say “you look amazing in anything, love”
- After Uliana found out you two were dating, she was not thrilled. She seemed very annoyed by you two and often made jabs about your relationship. She still messed with Bridget but surprisingly a little less when you were around (mostly because she had respect for Morgie rather than you)
- You always try helping Bridget with baking and Patch likes to help too! Sometimes you try to use your fire magic to speed up the baking process but you’ve accidentally set a cupcake or two on fire
- She occasionally teases you about the cupcakes but very playfully and lovingly
- You love calling her “Princess” and kissing her hand
- In return she occasionally calls you princess too despite your lack of royal status. She says it’s because you’re her princess.
- You love playing with her hair. Always helping her curl it, sometimes you braid it, sometimes you just play with it for fun.
- Her hair is naturally red but she eats flamingo feathers to keep it pink. One day she ran out so you had to help her dye it and accidentally got pink hair dye everywhere and your shoes were stained with splotches of pink, but you love it.
- She always gifts you little heart charms like the ones on her belt and you always hang them up in your room over your bed.
- You eventually stand up to Uliana after she really really made Bridget upset. It kind of ruined your status as a VK but your brother was proud of you and Bridget couldn’t have been happier.
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crowpickingss · 30 days
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Battle Of Affection
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morgie x gn! cat lover reader
summary: the reader loves morgie’s cat more than morgie
warnings: none
a/n: cats and descendants what more could you ask for
—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—
Your obsession with cats was slightly disturbing. Your parents had been allergic so you never had one but that didn’t stop you.
So when you and Morgie were starting to get into the relationship phase he invited you over to his dorm. He introduced you to his cat and you fell in love for the second time.
At first he thought it was cute that you loved his cat but he started getting jealous very quickly. One day you were over at his apartment you were too busy playing with the cat to notice him asking you a question.
He walked up and used his hand to direct you attention to him “Babe I know you love my cat but could you focus on me for a minute” You perched the cat in your lap and turned to face him “Yeah what’s wrong”
You sat petting the cat while listening to what Morgie was saying “You’re getting detention because you fell in the fountain?” He sighs “I splashed this rich kid and he got mad” You returned your attention back to the cat.
He picked up the cat from your lap and put it on the floor “Babe, I’m starting to feel like you care more about the cat than me” You bit your “Really, look I’m really sorry I’ve never had a cat before I guess I might’ve gotten carried away” He hugged you “It’s okay, just give us the same amount of attention” You laughed “Want me to scratch behind your ears too” He rolled your eyes and kissed you on the cheek
—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—
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lilacs-stars · 29 days
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Hear me out, a part 2 of "shattered reflections" where The lost souls from the mirrow slowly take over the reader unkowningly to reader and Morgie, morgie meanwhile notices that reader is changing until its almost to late and reader is almost completely lost as well.
Your decision if you make a happy or bad ending, maybe both. And maybe the effects of the souls taking over is like- tiredness, forgetting stuff, getting more agressive or evil and maybe some physical stuff like hair loss or skin color getting gray cause your life is getting sucked out and whatever you decide
[ofc morgie meanwhile tries to get a rank higher and be the readers boyfriend]
hiiii, first of all I'm gonna start off by saying I LOVE when people ask for continuations of works or for me to elaborate on something (I literally make up like a whole book's worth of lore in my head for every fic I write lol) it literally makes me so happy 😊
I absolutely adore this idea, I really wanted to write a part 2 of shattered reflections because I loved the original idea and this is the perfect plot. honestly I can't decide if I want a happy or sad ending, so I'm just gonna do a poll and you guys can decide:
should I do a happy ending, where reader's soul gets almost completely destroyed, but morgie manages to save reader at the last second by using some sort of magic, like giving reader part of his own soul or something (for ouat fans, it would be like how charming and snow white split a heart in half so they could both live)
orrrr should I do a sad ending, where morgie tries his best to save reader but it's too late, and reader's soul gets consumed by the mirror's magic. reader doesn't exactly die, but instead becomes a walking shell of what she used to be, hollow and devoid of any emotions. reader wouldn't even be able to recognize or remember anyone and would just be completely numb, even to morgie showering reader with affection and trying to fix things (to no avail).
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w4w4lycsss · 2 months
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Hello, could I place an order for Morgie x reader.
Where Morgie is in love with Bridget's younger sister and always tries to win her over in different ways without Uliana finding out, where Red and Chloe also try to help Morgie win over the reader since her future is terrible in the future also trying to change her future to be with morgie.
TRYING TO IMPRESS | MORGIE LE FAY
summary: Morgie tries to impress you several times but he is completely clumsy and does not always succeed until Red and Chloe help him a little pairing: Morgie Le Fay x gn!Bridget's sibling!reader inspired by:: Love is Embarrassing - Olivia Rodrigo a/n: I'm in love with the idea! and I thought it would be better to do gn!reader, I hope you don't mind! :)
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At Merlin Academy everyone truly admired you, and by admire I mean they absolutely loved you. You had a wide range of intelligence and respect, you were kind and hardworking, so you weren't surprised to have admirers. But there was one in particular…
Your sister didn't get along with the VKs, not on her part, but because they particularly bothered her for being a good person. You created a grudge against them, and you are not like her, you are more firm and realistic, not so positive, if you could slap Uliana you would.
Unfortunately (for you) you had shot the heart of one of the villains, the son of Morgana Le Fay.
You'd had almost no interaction with him, perhaps the only exceptions had been when you teamed up in a potions class (perhaps the only class he'd ever attended) relatively long ago.
You didn't remember anything about that class, but if you asked him he would say that it was the best moment of his life. Their hands touched each other when they took some ingredient at the same time, their gazes were stealthy and your calm voice telling them what to do left me spinning in my head. That day he decided that he was going to fall in love with you.
You already knew that Morgie was interested in you, and you were tired. Every day was constantly rejecting his invitations to run away from class together, watching him do some spell near you or how he would try to flirt.
It is clear that it is a disaster.
But it didn't bother you, yes, I already said that you were tired, but it was cute to see how he approached Maleficent and Hades to ask for advice and approach you with confidence only so that when he heard your sweet voice he melted right there and couldn't do anything. nothing.
Maybe it was also your fault that the flirting continued, and you never firmly put him in his place, you spoke to him calmly and patiently, which only made him fall in love more.
Did I say you had a grudge against VKs? It's not a lie but maybe it was too direct, because you treat Morgie with patience but there were some days where you couldn't stand him, maybe because something had happened in class or it was just a bad hair day, you swore that if you saw him one more time You were going to go crazy.
You sat under a tree after running with Bridget trying to save her from Uliana, who was chasing her furiously after turning into a flamingo. As you closed your eyes and regulated your breathing, you felt the presence of someone near you.
“Hello, cutie.” Morgie smiled at you. "How are you? You got tired?"
“Hello, Le Fay.” You rolled your eyes a little. “Yes, I am, didn’t you run?” You responded with a tired sigh.
“No, I didn't have to run, I just saw you.”
“Were you looking at me from a distance?” You let out a small laugh.
Morgie's flirting got out of hand when he realized you weren't responding defensively. His face flushes bright red and he begins to stutter, not knowing where to take the conversation. You notice this, obviously.
“Y-yes, I mean, not like that. It sounds weird, I wasn't just looking at you! “I saw all the people running, of course.”
You let out a small laugh. “I have to look for Bridget, see you.” You said goodbye casually, starting to walk back to school.
Morgie let out a loving squeal and then let out a tired sigh as he followed you with his eyes until you were lost in the crowd. He looked at the ground and put his hands in his pockets while mumbling things like “fool…” to himself and staggered on his feet.
“Morgie!”
The aforementioned raised his head quickly when he heard his name with the small illusion in his chest that you were the owner of the voice. He made a sound of protest when he realized that it was Chloe who was calling him, walking towards him alongside Red.
“Is something wrong, princess?” He scoffed irritably.
“Yes, in fact it would suit you quite a bit.” Red mentioned.
He rolled his eyes, ready to turn around and leave them when Chloe spoke again.
“We know you like Y/N.”
He frowned in confusion and irritation. "What's with that?"
“We can help you conquer them.” The redhead spoke again.
“And what would you gain in return?” He crossed his arms, not very convinced.
Chloe and Red looked at each other. Where they came from, your future had not been very good when you were alone, you were in danger in many ways, but they couldn't tell anyone.
Red's eyes lit up at a possible idea.
“If we get you to go out with Y/N, you'll stop bothering Bridget.”
He almost laughed but frowned wryly. “Why do you care if I bother the miss positivity or not?"
“Because she's our friend, and Y/N's sister. Do you accept or not?"
Morgie stayed silent, genuinely thinking. He was too in love, he had done ridiculous and embarrassing things for love to give up now that he was given the opportunity on a silver platter. He let out a resigned sigh.
"Good! I hope you have a plan or miss pink is going to pay dearly.” He frowned.
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Someone knocked on your door, without much hesitation you opened, thinking it was Bidget. When you opened it, you found Morgie standing in front of you with a flushed face and an embarrassed smile.
"Do you want to go to the dance with me?" He spoke quickly before you could ask him what he was doing.
"I'm going to think about it-"
"Wait, don't close! I only ask you to go with me, we don't need to be a couple or anything, if you accept I will stop harassing you."
You stopped when you were about to close the door on him. "Harass me? Don't harass me." You frowned in confusion. "You're just very intense. Look, I'm going to think about it, give me until tomorrow, yes?"
Morgie smiled excitedly, letting out an "yes..." with a sigh in love as you closed the door. He ran to where he knew the rest of VK (without Uliana) were to tell them the news as soon as possible. Since Bridget was your sister, it was almost impossible for Uliana to accept you if you were to date Morgie and it would practically make your life impossible.
In Morgie's eyes, you were "so different from your sister that it made you unique, and that Uliana would never understand."
Halfway through, he met Red and Chloe, who began to ask him about the answer you had given him.
"Didn't you insist on them more?"
"No, they're going to get fed up with me and say no."
"Wow, it sounds like it's already happened."
"How about a gift in the name of a secret admirer?" Red suggested. "But at the same time Y/N knows it's about you."
"And what do you expect me to give him?" He frowned in confusion.
"How about cupcakes! Or something made by you." Chloe suggested now with a smile.
Morgie clicked his tongue and frowned in a grimace at the knowledge of what he would have to do. Yes, he did indeed cook you something to eat. In the evening, at dinnertime, instead of going downstairs like the rest, he sneaked into your room and quickly left a basket of pink and green cupcakes on your bed, with a note next.
"See you at the fountain tomorrow? (to know your answer) - M. Le Fay."
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flamingoofeathers · 2 months
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FOR MERLIN’S SAKE || MORGIE LE FAY
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pairings: morgie x merlinsdaughter!reader
summary: Merlin finds out his daughter is dating the son of his enemy, Morgie.
genre: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort
one-shot; wc: 1.8k — requested by @stargener
main masterlist morgie masterlist
a/n: it was so fun to write, although it took me a while to write, so i apologize for the long wait, i hope this was up to your expectation.
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Sneaking out wasn’t easy especially for Morgie, being friends with the VK’s was hard, cuz god forbid what would happen if he gets caught even TALKING to a royal, but dating one? He might aswell sign his death sentence, but for the first time in his life, he didnt care, he was willing to risk it all, still he was careful, the VK’s aren’t the nicest people after all.
Y/n and Morgie have been dating for quite some time now, in secret of course, dating a goody two shoes is one thing, but dating merlin’s daughter is whole different thing.
Sure, Merlin allowed villains to enrol to his school but that doesn’t mean he was fond of them, they were troublemakers after all, so god knows how he would react if he finds out his daughter is dating one.
Morgie was calmly making his way around the town near the academy, he was trying to look as normal as possible, but inside he couldn’t wait to see his princess. Y/n and him had planned to meet at a cafe in town, where they provide private booths, so the two can finally feel like a normal couple at a cafe without anyone seeing.
When he arrived at cafe, he wasn’t surprised to see the her were already there, always the punctual goody two shoes.
“And here i thought i’d surprise you by being early” Morgie slid next to her, leaning down to kiss her.
“Mhmm, as if you’ll ever beat me” Y/n said chuckling softly.
Morgie knew that being punctual was important to Y/n so he always tried his best to be on time even though at times he can be late.
“I hope you haven’t been waiting long for me” Morgie said as he grabbed the menu from the table before wrapping his arm around her shoulder as she leaned into him.
“I haven’t, don’t worry- oh! we should try that one” y/n pointed at the couple’s special on the menu. It wasn’t anything “special” really, just a large strawberry milkshake with two straws, some whipped cream and a cherry on top.
“Ohhhh, romantic” Morgie teased “ok, let me go order and i’ll be right back” he rubbed their noses together, before actually leaving to order.
Unfortunately when he left his booth, a certain group of people were entering their own booth saw him.
“What’s he doing here?” Hook asked with a confused look on his face.
“I dont know and i dont care, lets just order” Maleficent said before sitting down and grabbing the menu immediately with Hades following right behind her.
Meanwhile Hook and Uliana gave each other a look, deciding to stay hidden keeping a look at the booth Morgie just left, it was covered with a black curtain like the rest of the seats.
Morgie not noticing the prying eyes, hummed happily with their order in hand before entering their booth.
Uliana and Hook eyes widen at the sight, the daughter of their dear principal Merlin, on a date, with a villain? ‘
This is gonna be good’ Hook and Uliana thought before joining Hades and Maleficent.
“Our little Morgie has been hiding a dirty little secret from us and he’ll pay for it” Uliana said maliciously.
“What is she talking about?” Hades asks Hook.
“He is out on a date with y/n l/n” he smirks.
Maleficents eyes widen “as in principal Merlins daughter, y/n l/n?”
“Yep”
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Once y/n arrive back to her dorm, she was confused to see a letter from her father asking her to meet him in his office.
Upon arriving at her father’s office, y/n grew anxious at the absolute silence the place had, usually her father would clumsily searching for things but when she entered, the door behind her closed immediately, she saw her father at his chair rubbing his temples.
“Dad? Is everything okay?” The girl asked as she walked towards her dad.
“Sit.” The harsh tone of her usually nice father made her heart beat faster as she sat down as fast as she could.
“What happened?” She was met with silence.
“I want you to tell me the truth, y/n” Merlin finally looked at her in the eyes.
“Are you dating Morgie Le Fay?” Her dad asked with cold voice.
Her heart pounded against her chest in panic, she could feel her lungs closing in, tears prickling her eyes, how did her father find out?
“Wha-what? No! No, i-i would never!” She denied stuttering trying hard to convince her father with that one single sentence.
“Y/n! WHY WOULD DATE A VILLAIN!?” Her father slammed his fist on the table.
“I told you, im not!” The girl continued to deny.
“THE SON OF MY ENEMY!? SERIOUSLY!?”
“Dad- NO! I’m not dating anyone!!”
“Stop with the lying! I don’t want you anywhere near that boy ever again!” Her father warned
“What!? No!?” Y/n stood up, facing her father with a panicked looked on her face.
“If you’re not dating him then avoiding him wont be a problem, right? If you go near him, i will know.” Merlin said before leaving the room leaving his daughter alone.
“No..” the girl whispered before sitting back down, her legs weak, heart heavy, sobbing her eyes out with no one to comfort her.
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As days passed, Morgie continued to try and talk to her, it broke her heart to avoid him everytime but she didn’t have a choice.
While she wasn’t exactly sure how her father found out but she had an inkling feeling that it had something to do with the VK’s, snickering at her everytime they happen to pass by each other, i mean, how can they do this to their friend? To Morgie? But she guessed that villains will be villains.
Morgie on the other hand, was hurt and confused about why his girlfriend suddenly started ignoring him out of nowhere, he thought everything was fine between them.
The Vk’s was hanging out in the courtyard, Uliana making fun of Bridget and Ella as usual, normally he would be laughing along with them but today, he cant find it in himself to care, he stared into air thinking about everything he could’ve done to anger his girlfriend enough to ignore him. He can’t wrap his head around it.
“Right, Morgie?” Hook nudged him chuckling.
“Huh?” Morgie asked, he didnt know what they were talking about.
“You ok, Morgs?” Maleficent asked noticing the weird behaviour of her friend.
“Hmm, yeah im fine, just tired, i think im gonna head back to my dorm now” Morgie said before standing up and walking away.
“ its only 4 in the afternoon” Hades said.
Hook and Uliana looked at each other with guilt.
Later that night, a knock was heard from outside of Morgies dorm.
“What?” Morgie asked annoyed at the interruption from his sulking.
“We need to talk to you about something” Uliana said, with a look of…guilt? Nono, that can’t be, Uliana doesnt feel anything other than hatred.
“What is it?”
“Can we come in?”
“Sure” Morgie said opening the door wider for them.
There was silence in the room, Morgie waiting for them to say something.
“We were the one who told principal Merlin about your relationship with L/n” Hook confessed.
“WHAT!?” Morgie was livid “ARE YOU CRAZY!? THATS CRUEL!” he scoffed “EVEN FOR YOU PEOPLE”.
“We’re so-“
“HOW DID YOU EVEN KNOW!?”
“When you went to the cafe with her” Uliana said hesitantly.
“AND YOU DIDNT EVEN TELL ME!? What? You just told the principal, without even confirming with me, i cant believe you guys” Morgie was disappointed at his friends.
“Look, we’re sorry-“ Hook started.
“Yeah? Well, sorry isnt going to bring her back to me, is it?” Morgie glared at them.
“We can help” Uliana pleaded.
“Just leave guys, i dont want to look at you right now” Morgie sat down on his bed with his back turned to them.
He felt pats on his back along with small apologies.
Meanwhile on the other side of the campus, you can find a girl in her bed sobbing her heart while listening to sad songs, when a knock was heard from her door, she knew that it was her father so she just ignored it but that didnt stop the bearded man to enter her room.
“I didn’t answer the door bc i wanted you to come in” the girl said sitting up from her bed and removing her headphones before brushing her tears away.
The mans heart broke at the sight of his daughters tear stricken face, he knew it was his fault, how miserable he made his daughter.
“Oh sweetie” the man sat next to his daughter.
“Look at you, i am so sorry, dear, i let my anger towards his mother get in the way of your relationship, i truly apologise” the dad caressed his daughters hair who looked at him shocked.
“What made you change your mind?” The girls asked.
“He makes you so happy, dear, I cant bear to see you like this, i dont want to ever see you crying, especially because of me” the dad explained, his tone filled with understanding and love.
“Are you sure?” The girl asked hopefully.
“Yes. For a villain, he’s not so bad” he joked making the girl chuckle “as long as he treats you like the princess you are, you have my blessing”
“Oh!! Thank you, Dad!! Thank you, thank you, thank youu!!!!” Y/n hugged her dad tightly.
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The next day, the girl didnt waste time to search for her dear boyfriend.
Both meeting in the courtyard of the school, running to each other as they fall into each others arms, tenderly kissing.
“I’m so sorry” both of them said at the same time.
“Why are you saying sorry for?” Y/n asks confused.
“It was Hook and Uliana who told your father about us, they saw us at the cafe that day, im so sorry” Morgie apologized.
“No, it wasn’t your fault, it was mine, my father didnt react well to us being together so i ignored you, im sorry” the girl countered.
“I will beg principal Merlin to let us be together, i would do anything for you” Morgie said connecting their foreheads together and caressing her cheek.
“You don’t have to, because we have his blessing “ the girl stared into his eyes grinning.
“What? Are- are you serious!?” The boy said holding the girls face in his hands, the girl nodded to which the boy lifted her off the ground and span her around.
“Oh! I can’t believe this!” Morgie chuckled.
“We’ll finally be together” Y/n said softly.
“Forever.”
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perfect-revenge · 17 days
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彡 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 . . . .ᐟ ⭑
ONE SHOT
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♡ — constantly tired means constant naps .ᐟ ♯. ft the fearful five ⌇
♡ — content : gender neutral reader, based on the fact I’m a very sleepy person lol, fluff, pre-established relationships, separate villains x reader !
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⭑ ♯┆ULIANA .ᐟ
Uliana walked down the academy halls, she was a woman on a mission. Students moved out of her way, either you moved or Uliana would move you. No one wanted to piss off the Sea Witch, especially since she already looked annoyed.
The Sea Witch starts opening doors and moving curtains, like she was looking for something. Opening the door of one of the classrooms, she finally found what she was looking for, or more like who.
At your desk, you were sitting. Your arms were crossed on the desk, your head resting on them as you slept. Ulianas posture relaxed as she let out a sigh of relief at finally finding you. Of course you had fallen asleep at your last class, you were constantly sleepy all the time.
She walks over to your sleeping figure. You looked so peaceful that Uliana would’ve left you sleeping if it weren’t for the fact that your current napping spot was an empty classroom.
Gently shaking your shoulder, Uliana smiled softly as you woke up. You always looked so pretty to her when you did anything. Kissing your forehead, she spoke with a gentle tone “C’mon. You can sleep in my dorm.”
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⭑ ♯┆JAMES HOOK .ᐟ
James walked through the deck of his ship, yelling orders to his crew. Uliana might’ve been the group's leader at school, but in his ship? That’s where he ruled. No one taught twice before doing as he said. If he said jump, the crew would only ask how high.
Looking around the working crew, James furrowed his brows as he didn’t spot the familiar look of his partner. He grabbed the shoulder of a random crew member, stopping them in their tracks.
“Where’s Y/N?” He was still looking around, not even paying attention to the crew member he had stopped.
“I, uh, I don’t know captain.” The crew member replied nervously. The Captain sometimes got cranky if his partner wasn’t with him for long, so the fact he didn’t know where they were only made them scared over how the Captain would act the whole day.
Letting out a huff of annoyance, James let the member go with a wave of his hook. If you weren’t on deck with him that means you were below. Walking down the kitchen he skimmed it over before going back up, down to the crew's cabins he did the same before going back up. No luck. Only one place left.
Going to his quarters, James opened the door slowly and peaked in. He opened it fully and walked in when he didn’t immediately see you. Seeing a lump on his bed, he chuckled as he walked up to your sleeping form.
Sitting on the side of the bed, James pulled the blanket down from your face. He gently patted your head with a smile. Leaning down, he kissed your temple and whispered in your ear.
“Time to get up, love.” He heard you mumbling something before you moved your head, seemingly trying to dig your head deeper into the pillows.
“Five more minutes.” You muttered, making him let out a laugh. “Alright, alright. Five more minutes.”
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⭑ ♯┆MORGIE LE FAY .ᐟ
You were sitting on your bed, back against the bed's headboard. Morgie laid his head on your lap, enjoying how you scratched his scalp as you played with his hair. It wasn’t uncommon for you two to lay like this on days where you either had no plans nor were following Uliana around terrorizing classmates.
Today was one of those days with no plans. The day had felt even longer than it should have for some reason and you were so glad it had ended, and that you could finally have some quality time with your boyfriend.
A minute passed before Morgie raised his head from your lap to look at you. Your hand had slowed down and halted on its motion. Looking at your face, he could see your eyes were closed now and your body relaxed. You had fallen asleep while sitting up and scratching at his head.
Chuckling, Morgie moved your body down to lay on the bed instead. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close as he closed his eyes to join you on your nap.
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⭑ ♯┆HADES .ᐟ
Ulianas rambling had stopped making sense to you a while ago. There’s a vague memory about it being about Bridget and how “pathetic” she was for “bribing” people into liking her with the sweet treats. You already had some theories on where the Sea Witches hatred had come from, raging from crush in denial to severe mommy issues. Regardless, her rants had been rather boring and repetitive.
Hades sat by your side, one hand playing with his flames and the other on your thigh. He was also bored out of his mind of the constant ranting so he had stopped paying attention as well. The hand he had on your thigh was slowly massaging it. It reminded you of how cats would make biscuits on their owners, which made you chuckle.
His focus on his flame broke at the sound of you chuckling, making him turn his head to look at you with an eyebrow raised. You simply gave him a tired smile, resting your head on his shoulder. Grabbing his hand, you laced your fingers together and played with it. Hades smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, going back to playing with his flames.
Finally, after a lot of talking (seriously, how strong is someone’s hatred that they can talk badly about them for so long?) Uliana decided the other villains could do whatever they’d like. Hades waited for you to move before he did, but you stayed still. Looking down at you, he could see that you’d fallen asleep on him.
Chuckling, Hades rubbed the back of your palm with his thumb. His unoccupied hand went to your shoulder and gently shaked it as he whispered in your ear.
“C’mon baby, time to go.” He watched with a smile as you let out a groan and rubbed at your eye. He stood up and grabbed your hand, pulling you up to lead you to rest on your dorm together.
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⭑ ♯┆MALEFICENT .ᐟ
Maleficent walked around a store that was run by three witch sisters. If anyone saw her, they’d say she looked like a child during Christmas. She wanted to search the thing from top to bottom, no shelf or case being left unseen by the fae.
You had found the store randomly in one of your walks. It had been somewhat tucked away down an alleyway. Your first thought had been to bring the fae to the store as it had many things that you thought would interest her.
Now you sat on a cushioned bench watching her explore the store. You could feel your eyes desperately trying to close while you forced them open. You really wanted to stay awake and look at your girlfriend's rare moment of expressing her excitement and joy, but the tiredness was really getting to you. Closing your eyes for a moment wouldn’t hurt, right?
Maleficent took the bag from the blonde witch and turned to you, only to find your head slumped down and your arms crossed. She rolled her eyes— of course you fell asleep, you always did. Walking to you, she looked at your peaceful face for a minute, a smile on her face. But she quickly forced her face to look stern, to not be seen as soft, as she poked your shoulder till you woke up. Her eyes had a glimpse of mischief,“C’mon, I’m done here. Let’s use these.”
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Sunday Night
Morgie le Fay x Pixie!Reader
Pronouns Used: she/her/hers
Summary: After his friends let him down Morgie runs to his girlfriend for comfort and she convinces him to come try meeting her friends instead. (slightly inspired by that post about how Morgie would be sweeter than Bridget if the AKs took him in instead of the Vks)
Warnings: Sfw dominance (she does undo his scarf and shirt for him though), reader is a touch possessive, Morgie is a touch insecure, a few swears here and there, Uliana and the crew treat Morgie awfully, a touch of angst/ hurt/comfort, the reader snaps and then literally throws Uli, literally so many pet names (Mainly used by the reader), Morgie has mommy issues (If Morgana won't properly baby Morgie his gf will).
Word Count: 3.6K
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Left, right, down, flick! 
      On any normal Sunday night, Morgie would be tucked around his girlfriend as she did her weekend homework. Sat in her lap with his legs dangling behind her and his face tucked into her neck as she worked, whining for her to finish her work faster. Her reading the things she was studying out loud to him if they both took the class, in hopes of helping raise his grades (something he’d hate to admit was actually working).  He’d laugh when she was finally done, dragging her to the bathroom connecting her dorm to her neighbor’s with excitement so they could do skin care together. Sundays, to the pixie, were for preparing for the week. They existed to prepare yourself for what the week had ready to throw at you, both physically and mentally. For her boyfriend, Sundays were for being babied by his girlfriend, and she’d never tell him otherwise. It was her favorite part of their relationship and anyone who knew her knew it. She’d grown too used to the feeling of having gentle kisses placed on her shoulder and neck while she worked; to sit there without them was driving her crazy. Maybe she owed her boyfriend an apology, always teasing him that she couldn’t focus when he was sat on her lap. Turns out, Morgie might have been the only thing keeping her focused. Somehow the pixie had made her one hour of homework turn into two and a half as she kept letting her eyes flicker to her door. Willing her boyfriend to appear behind the wood.
    Left, right, down, flick! 
   Finally she succeeds in making the stupid pillow in the center of her bed fly back to its set spot on the headboard. It wasn’t exactly the spell in how they’d do it for the test on Tuesday but she hoped it would be close enough. Morgie would’ve cheered for her by now, groaning out a teasing “finally” beforehand. She didn’t realize how much she’d miss that with him gone for only one weekend.
    It made her feel selfish in a way, she got an invite to the birthday party that Morgie was throwing for Uliana tonight. But he knew the second he extended it that she’d never take it.  Maybe if the party was for Hook she’d be there, she might even grin and bare it for Maleficent if she had to. But her hatred for the sea witch stopped her from being willing to go, even in support of her sweet boyfriend. (Y/n) regretted that now, realizing just how much her Sunday nights depended on him. Sundays were supposed to be the day that she excitedly waits for all week, instead it left her feeling lonely. The Black Lagoon wasn’t that far, she could go now. It wouldn’t draw too much attention if she just slipped in now. There’s a moment, as her lip rests between her teeth and her fingers drum on the desk in front of her that she considers this. How long was Morgie planning to keep the party going? Did she have the time to get an outfit on and get to the Lagoon before it was over? With the way Hook partied, there had to be. But how would Uliana react if she showed up without a gift? Did she really want to deal with that? And what would she even wear? One of Morgie’s nice button ups should be hanging in her closet, surely she could find something to do with that if she wanted to. 
     Her fleece blanket starts to slip down her shoulders and she reaches up to grab it, pulling it back up her arms, solidifying her choice for her. She wanted to be with the person she loved, even if she had to deal with assholes too. Not that she’d get the time to get ready though, instead stilled as a shallow knock hits the hollow wood of her dorm room’s door. 
     She could recognize the sound trying to be the way that her boyfriend knocked. The familiar two knocks, pause, one knock, pause, three knocks that she heard multiple times a week but it was too timid. (Y/n) pauses, heading to her door with furrowed brows. Her eyes drink him in, looking over the person she had just longed for with a new heat bubbling in her chest. Hazel eyes gleamed a little too green in the bloodshot and wet sockets that held them, making the color stand out against a splotchy red and tear stained face. “Oh, Darling,” she reaches out for him, pulling him in the room and closing the door behind him. Morgie opens his mouth to respond, letting it fall closed when the only thing he can manage to get out is a voice crack. He sits down on her desk, hands pressed to the cold, polished wood as he lets out a slow, shaky breath. She slots herself between his legs, soft hands cradling his face as she wipes away the stray tears that still clung to his soft, heated skin. The sorcerer's hands slot onto her waist, clinging to her as if she’d float away. Or maybe using her touch to ground himself, she couldn’t be quite sure if she was honest.   
     “What happened, sweetness? Who upset my boy?” The corners of his lips flicker up for a moment as she coos at him, eyes scanning over her face. “She,” his voice cuts out and he pulls her closer, letting his forehead lean gently against her shoulder, “Why do I try?” Her arms wrap around his shoulders to hold him, one hand resting on his back while the other softly scratches at his scalp. Morgie relaxes slightly into his girlfriend’s touch, fingers toying with the hem of her pajama top as he tries to steady his breathing. “What did she do, Darling?” (Y/n) does her best to keep her voice gentle, her focus had to be on him right now, not whoever hurt him. 
     “None of them showed up, they were all at Uliana’s dorm instead. They all forgot I planned a party for her,” he pulls back slightly from her shoulder so he could look at her, “They all forgot about plans we’d had for a month and then didn’t even invite me to their other plans.” Uliana hadn't forgotten, that's something the pixie was sure of. Her hand on the back of his head slides down to cup his jaw, forcing him to keep eye contact with her. “Oh Morgz,” she breathes, doing her best to keep her face even as she looks him over, “You put so much effort into that party.” He lets his eyes flicker from hers, “I just want them to see me. Wanted to, I don’t know.” He nearly whines as she lets go of his face, hands instead moving to his scarf. Undoing the fabric and placing it down on the table beside him. Fingers moving back to his neck, with her thumbs brushing over his now exposed flesh in gentle circling motions. An action that made him relax into her touch with a needy whine and closed eyes. 
     “I hate the way they treat you,” her voice is soft, eyes ghosting over him, “You’re too sweet to hang around villains.” He hums, “It’s better than when the hero kids were just staring at me all the time. They’re the only people who would take me in. Ya know, my mom and all.” Hazel eyes flicker back open to look up at her again, “Other than you. Sometimes I don’t know why you want me around when even my friends don’t.” That one was a stab into the chest, they’d made him so insecure that he didn’t even think she wanted him around? Because what? His shitty friends that treat him like a dog didn’t? That was her boy, how dare they make him feel that way? 
      “Oh no Sir,” (Y/n) gasps, her hands falling down to the buttons on his shirt, “Don’t you dare think like that.” “Why not?” His eyes are still glassy as he stares at her, voice weak and soft. Her fingers start to work over the buttons and Morgie leans back to give her better access to them. “Because,” she hums, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his collarbone, “Unlike those idiots,” another kiss is pressed to his shoulder as she pulls the fabric off them, “I know that you’re better than how they have ever dared to let themselves see you.” She presses a kiss to the column of his neck, “I know that you’re funny,” another kiss to his jaw, ���And gentle,” his cheek, “Kind,” his forehead, “and so much better than they are in every way.” As she got further up on his exposed skin she could taste the salt that lingered on it, a mix of the misty air at the black lagoon and the tears staining his cheeks. She presses her lips to his nose next, “I know you deserve more than your friends, and your mom, have ever given you.” Another kiss to his other cheek, “And I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I will want you forever because I am so proud to be your girl.” A final gentle kiss to his chin, “Because I am so proud of you.” 
     His hand slots forward against her jaw, pulling her down into a real kiss. It’s needy, lips working against each other’s with passion. Rough and emotional and raw as if he needed her. He did, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he did need her. The way her hands rested on him like his body was made for her to hold onto, how her voice sounded like an angel’s choir. Everything about her seemed to set him on fire, and he loved to burn. She was proud of him. She took pride in people knowing he was hers.  “Do you,” he’s a touch breathless as he pulls away, letting a hand fall to one of hers that rests on his bare chest, “Do you mean that?” She hums, nodding her head as she softly cradles his face, “I’ll mean it forever, Darling.” His face leans against her palm, nuzzling against it. “How about you get some of your pajamas out of the drawer and come meet me in the bathroom to do skincare, huh? Let me get you all cleaned up?” 
    He nods, letting his grip slip off of her, his eyes following her as she walks away. Paying close attention to every detail of her as if trying to mark her into his memory. The black and gold shorts she had on, the forest green tee shirt that nearly covered them, decked out in colors he loved as if she was dressed for him. Surely that was one of his shirts, not that he’d complain.  She could take all of his clothes if she wanted, he’d get more. Drinking in the soft bounce in her step that made it seem as if she’d take flight at any given moment. Sometimes he saw himself as lucky that she couldn’t, he could barely get close enough with them both bound to the ground, he’d hate it if she was able to fly. “I can feel your eyes on me, Sweetie, best get changed.” He nods seemingly to himself as he slides off of the surface and over to her dresser, toeing off his shoes as he goes. Hands reaching out for the top drawer of her dresser, grabbing a golden toned tee shirt and dragging it over his head. He shuffles through the drawer as he uses one hand to undo his pants, letting them drop as he finds the pair of sweat shorts he’s looking for and pulls them on. 
     Morgie makes a b line from her dresser to her bathroom after that, letting his hands slot back onto her waist the second he reaches her. “Took you long enough, Darling,” she turns in his arms with a wet rag, softly brushing it over his face. “I wanted to make you miss me.” She hums, dropping some of her face wash into her hands and rubbing them together before touching them to his face. Her fingertips work soft circles over his skin, gently rubbing off the salt on his skin. He leans into her touch, enjoying each and every gentle touch or teasing word that she’d give him. Any ounce of praise or affection had him falling deeper and deeper for her. “I missed you all night, no need to prolong it,” she presses a quick peck to his lips as she finishes rinsing his face off, “There we go.” He smiles, reaching behind her to grab her face mask brush and the small container. “Can I put yours on?” She bites her lip, eyes flickering from the arabian mud mask he’s delicately holding to the excited look on his face. “Do not get it in my eyebrows this time, Morgz.” “Ma’am yes ma’am,” gives her a playful salute, smiling as he watches her climb up on her sink, beckoning for him to start. 
                           ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
    “You staying with me tonight?” (Y/n) finally asks as she taps his eye cream onto his under eyes. Usually it wouldn’t be a question, Morgie loved to sleep over and she loved to have him. It wasn’t like there was much time to be all over each other in any other scenario. The VKs hated that they were together at all, let alone how much she “babied” him. So on the rare occasions he got her to come hang out with them the most they did was sit with interlocked pinkies or his arm around her waist or shoulders when he much preferred to cling to her. And with the way that his friends acted towards hers, Morgie was scared to be around them for too long. But with how upset he’d been, (Y/n) didn’t want to make any assumptions, his friends could be a touchy subject.
     “Do you want me to?” She smiles, wrapping her arms around his neck, “If it was up to me, we’d be roommates, Sweetie. You know that.” Morgie nods, his lip finding its way between his teeth as he looks up at her from his place between her legs. “Sweetness,” she coos, prompting him to look her in the eyes. “Can I request something from you?” “Anything,” he moves closer, his hands falling lazily to her hips as he hangs onto her words. “How about you ditch your friends tomorrow? Come hang out with me and my friends.” He doesn’t respond, pulling away from her. “Morgie.” He looks to her with big eyes, “Can we go lay down please?” 
    (Y/n) slides off the bathroom counter with a sigh, following him to her room. She lays down, opening her arms for him to come lay on her chest. Morgie’s face fits into the curve of her neck, as if he was built for it, arms wrapping around her to pull her as close as he can. Humming as he feels her hand softly start scratching at his scalp, pressing a needy little kiss to her neck. “Pretty boy,” her hand slips up under his shirt as she talks, tickling his skin. “Yes, baby?” “I’m serious, you should come out with us tomorrow. You’re not a villain, why keep hanging around them if they don’t even treat you right?” “Because, my mom is a villain.” She tuts, gripping his hair slightly to pull his head back. Eyes searching his as he patiently waits on what she has to say. “Morgie le Fay, you are not your mother.” He opens his mouth to argue but lets it fall back closed. Instead settling back into her neck. “One day, and if they hate me then I’m staying with my friends.” 
     She hums, deciding not to argue with him. Her friends would love him, sure Ella might have her qualms but Bridget accepts everyone with open arms. And Charming was cool enough, he could get along with anyone. He could have better people hang around him than a sea witch who uses him and her crew of lackeys. But the conversation dies, (Y/n) instead focusing on scratching his head, humming to him as she soothes her lover to sleep. Morgie tries to ignore the nerves in his stomach, falling into a tranquil state as his mind begins to focus on her. He notices the way she hums “So This Is Love”, a sweet little love song that he’d only ever admit to her was his favorite. His girlfriend had him exactly where she wanted him and they both knew it. 
                           ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
    Morgie came to realize how ridiculous his nerves were when he actually sat down with her friends at lunch the next day. “Ladies, Charming,” she bows to both of the playfully before putting an arm around her boyfriend’s waist, “Hope you don’t mind but I wanted to bring my boyfriend today.” Charming gives him a slight nod, as Bridget reaches over to place a cupcake in front of the boy. “Oh,” he takes it, eyeing the pretty pink frosting and chocolate pearls that decorate the top of the  rich red cake, “Thank you.” “Of course,” she chirps, sitting back in her spot between (Y/n) and Ella, “(Y/n) talks about you all the time. I’m so glad you finally decided to give us a chance. She’s always going on and on about how sweet you are and how your friends don’t deserve you.”  His eyes cut to her, taking in the soft blushed hue that warms her cheeks. “Bridget, please,” she whines, letting her face nuzzle into his shoulder. 
     “You talk about me when I’m not around?” Ella rolls her eyes, “She never shuts up about you. You’re like,” she waves her hand as she talks, “Her only conversation topic.” (Y/n) pulls away from her boyfriend’s shoulder to glare at her friend, “As if you’re any better without Charming around.” “Hey!”  Her friends are more playful than his, teasingly pushing each other, but never enough to hurt them. Sharing snacks and homework answers, warning each other about stupid questions on tests. Is this what normal friends were like? Morgie couldn’t help but fear that he’d been missing out. 
     “There you are,” the thick accent causes all five of them to turn. The villains are standing behind them, looking over the couple with distaste. “What exactly do you think you’re doing here?” Uliana raises an eyebrow as she stares him down. “I,” he tries to explain himself but he has no clue what to say to her. “Well? You what?” 
     “He’s ditching you,” the words are so perky and sugary sweet you’d think she didn’t know what they meant, “Isn’t that your little group’s thing? Ditching people and leaving them out?” Uliana laughs, shaking her head as she turns to the pixie, “No one was talking to you. And even if I was, what I do is not your concern. He answers to me, he should be with my group. Not running around with your pathetic little friends.” There’s a visible shift in her as she untangles herself from Morgie, back straightening and shoulders stiffening. A grin that rivaled only the Cheshire cat stretches across her face, body turning in her seat to properly face the little group. “Pathetic?” “Yeah,” she says as if talking to a toddler, “Pathetic. I’m sure Morgie would need the definition but I thought you were smarter than that.” 
     Uliana doesn’t see the soft silver glow around the girl’s hand as she lifts it. “You wanna see pathetic, Uli?” She flicks her wrist up, sending the sea witch floating up into the air. “What’s pathetic,” she  rotates her wrist to flip the girl upside down, “Is needing to be cruel to everyone, including people who only want to please you, just so you can feel good about yourself in comparison.” “Aye Lass, put her down,” Hook interjects and (Y/n)’s head shoots to the side to look at him. “You wanna join her, fishbait?” His hands fly up, stepping back in surrender.  So she turns her attention back to the sea witch as she moves her hand, angling Uliana to the bushes on the edge of the courtyard. “You’re so insecure that everyone in this school can feel it. Maybe this year can change that for you, happy birthday,” she flings her wrist forward sending the sea witch flying into the bushes. Her friends run after her, leaving the lunch table in the dust as they go to check on her. 
     “(Y/n)!” Bridget’s voice rings out, making her turn back to her own friends. “You could’ve hurt her!” “Oh please, Bridge, she’ll be fine. It’s amazing she even went that far with how gently I threw her. She needed someone to knock her down a peg.” Her eyes flicker to Morgie, his hazel eyes a mix of worry and adoration. “Plus, she called the people I love pathetic. No one is going to disrespect the people I love.” He reaches out for her, face leaning on her shoulder as he clings to her, “She’s gonna make your year awful now, you know that, right?” She laughs, snaking an arm around him, “Of course she is. Unlucky for her though, I have someone who knows her way of thinking on my side. And even if I didn’t, she’s as scary as a seapony.”
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lowkeyrobin · 19 days
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can i request an uliana’s crew x shy reader one shot? <3
I can try! ; had no ideas for this so I kinda split this up like a preference but idrc man ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; i tried making this a continuous story too so idrk man
FEARFUL FIVE ; no need to be shy
summary ; youre shy. and uliana and her crew slowly recruit you
warnings ; language
disclaimers ; p/n = parents name
word count ; 845
masterlist
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You sit in class, silent as usual, working on bookwork by your lonesome.
You'd moved to Merlin's Academy months ago, but had been to shy to make any friends. You didn't really need them anyways, you were just fine blanketed in your silence and loneliness.
Beside you sits Maleficent, halfway attendant to the lesson as she writes the notes down in her book. She holds a black pen in her right hand, her left hand holding her head up.
As you fall behind, thank the teacher for flipping through the slides too quickly, you shyly look over at her, too nervous to get her attention. She looks over at you, having sense your eyes burning into her skull.
"Uhm," you whisper. "Did you get six and seven?" you nervously ask, unable to hold eye contact.
She lightly smiles in response and turns her book a bit so you can see the answers on the page. You shoot her a little smile before quickly writing them down, whispering a thank you as well.
"No need to be shy, hun."
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You didn't have a public opinion about the VK's. You really couldn't care less, you just wanted to stay out of their way. But that also went for the other kids too, they could be mean.
But, your natural fear of people was at it again. You didn't know where to sit since your little table had been stolen in the cafeteria today. But, Morgie Le Fay, a VK, approaches you, a little excited to ask you the question that follows.
"Hey, would you wanna sit with us?"
He points back at his group, all half watching you two from their table.
"Uhm..." you try to inspect his expression, trying to decode if he was being fake or not. "Uh, sure"
He smiles, grabs your hand, and quickly leads you to the table. You sit down next to him, shyly picking at your food, listening to their conversation.
Morgie quietly speaks to you, seeing your abnormal behavior. "No need to be shy, we're nice, I promise" He smiles. "What's your name?"
"Y/n" You answer, sounding a little disinterested.
"Wait," Hades quickly looks up at you, "Y/n, like P/n, like Y/n L/n?"
You nod, sticking a celery stick in your mouth.
Hook chuckles. "Cool"
Morgie looks back at you with a soft smile.
"Told you we're nice"
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A few days had passed since you sat at the VK's table. You decided to sit with them from now on since they were actually nice to you, and you never ended up getting your table back anyway.
Physical education wasn't your strong suit. Why you needed to know how to use a sword anyways was beyond you.
Though, James Hook was in your class, which was a little nice. You'd been paired with him today, though you were too shy to actually talk to him.
He slings an arm around your shoulders, which quickly tense up under his touch. He leans forward, looking at you, seeing your gaze stuck forward.
"Are you alright, new kid?"
You nod.
"Not know how to use a sword?" He asks, a little amused.
You shake your head.
"I can teach you" He shrugs, "Not that hard"
He notices your odd silence.
"Y'know, you don't have to be shy. I won't cut your hand off, love"
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Hades works beside you in potions class, his eyes looking like he was barely attentive at 8am. You'd quickly gotten confused and mixed up with the directions, having stopped yourself to stare at the book, trying to figure out what you were even doing. Curse these textbooks riddled in poems and old English.
Hades notices your still silence, furrowing his brows as he looks at you. He tilts his head, realizing you need help.
"Do you need help?" he asks.
You look at him, then back at the book, and nod, handing it to him. He holds the book in his hand, his finger following the words he read in his head.
"You're very quiet" he comments.
You shrug.
"Okay, so, add the eye of newt, then stir, then add the witch's spit."
"Okay, thank you," you thank him quietly, setting the book back down on your desk.
He nods. "Don't gotta be shy, you can ask for help," he shrugs. "You're cool."
"Thanks..."
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Over the course of the past few months, Uliana and her friends had kind of dragged you into their group. They seemed to be the only people who spoke to you first, pulling you into them. So, you began to trust them more and talk to them a bit more, too.
The only one you hadn't had a personal run-in with was Uliana herself.
But now was that time.
She'd brought you to the Black Lagoon, tentacles loosely wrapped around your waist and shoulders as you lead you further through the woods. Your steps are small and cautious, reeking nervousness.
She stops, looking at you. "There's no need to be shy, darling. C'mon, I want to show you something amazing"
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skellseerwriting · 1 month
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What is Love? (Baby Don’t Hurt Me)
Love Clueless!Morgie x GN!Reader Part 1/2
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Thank you anon for the wonderful ask! I never would have come up with this on my own. I was worried it was getting too long, so I’m splitting it into two parts (currently working on it!)
Word Count: 1,446
Warnings: Morgie worries others don’t like him, Morgie doesn’t know what love is, Morgan Le Fay is mentioned as being cruel, Morgie didn’t grow up being loved :(
Summary: Morgie doesn’t know what love is. Seeing you being loved by your friends leads him to ask you to teach him what love is.
What is Love?
This was a question that had recently began to plague Morgie Le Fay’s mind. People talked about loving other people; they loved their family, friends, partner, and even famous people who didn’t know they existed. But what did that even mean? Was the love they felt for their friend the same as their parent?
It was clear to him that those who felt love towards others felt a special sort of care to them, but what did that mean for Morgie? He didn’t really care about his mom. She was barely crueler than some of the other nasty people he had to deal with growing up; Was Morgie supposed to love her because she was his mom? Part of him felt that he should have, but the other part thought of nothing but apathy (but perhaps those two things could coexist? Is it possible to love someone and not like them?).
And then there were his friends. It wasn’t uncommon to hear the “good” kids throw around “love you” to their pals. When he tried using it, all of them (especially uliana) looked at him like he’d presented a dish of rotting food. Hook was the only one to give a rather forced laugh and clap him on the back with a “Don’t tell me those happy idiots are starting to rub off on you.” It was never brought up as Morgie never did it again, crushed. After that, though, he couldn’t help but question his feelings towards them.
Don’t be mistaken, Morgie does care for his friends, maybe even loves them. However, he’s come to recognize that unlike himself, the others were uncomfortable with the kind of care and affection they all lacked growing up. And this, in turn, made it impossibly more difficult to understand what love was, and how people felt it towards others. None of it made sense to him. He felt lost as the brainrot began to consume his mind over the course of a couple weeks.
He started to stare and obsess over the way he saw other friends behave. So often there were hugs exchanged, gifts given (friendship bracelets and charms were a common one, he noted), and sometimes even kisses on the cheek.
Why couldn’t he have that? Did his friends just not like him enough? But Hades and Mali were dating, and they never did stuff like that, and their relationship was really healthy!
It wasn’t until he saw you interacting with you friends that he did a double take on all he had observed. Everybody you ran into seemed to treat you like a close friend. Whether you were holding a door open or approaching someone to compliment some random little thing, everyone would smile when they saw you.
But you didn’t give anything to them. You didn’t hug any of them or otherwise engage in physical contact. If everyone else did that then why didn’t you? How come you had so many friends?
Maybe, he thought, just maybe, you knew something he didn’t; the secret to love. If it was some hidden knowledge you could share, perhaps he could learn how to make others love him. He could even get his friends to love him. All he needed to do was understand what love was.
He just wanted to feel loved.
“What?” You had a baffled expression, like he spoke some unknown language.
 “Will you teach me what love is?” He asked again in the exact same tone, thinking you couldn’t hear him over the school bell and clamor of hallway foot traffic.
Expression still the same, you looked left and right as if looking to see who might be listening.
“Why do you want to know? I thought villains hated love.”
Morgie scratched the back of his head, slightly sheepish.
“Yeah that mostly rings true. People like my mom and friends don’t seem to like the concept.” He went still for a second, pondering his next words slowly. “But… because of that, I don’t really understand it. Like, someone can like their partner, but if they go and show love to someone else it’s wrong. But it’s somehow not the same as friends, which people can have as many as they’d like- and I just don’t get it.”
Your eyes widened as you took all his words in. He really didn’t know what love was? Better yet, he -a villain- wanted to know what it was. Did the world turn upside down?
Regardless of your experience-based opinions, you found his sincerity endearing. Why wouldn’t you help him out? The worst that could happen is some mistreatment from the VK’s- and you were already used to that.
That was not the worst that could happen, you realized, as you sat at the foot of your bed.
After entering your dorm when school hours were over, Morgie had taken to staring at your room in abstract wonder. His fingers glided ever-so-gently over little knickknacks and bobbles you had collected over the years as gifts. Occasionally he would pick one up like it was a baby bird, carefully turning it over and setting it back down once he was done looking at it. Then he came across a picture frame of you and your family. You couldn’t read the expression in his eyes.
This was worse, you thought again. This was worse, because here, like this, he was just a boy. A normal kid like you and not one who tormented others. When you looked at his soft countenance, you felt your heart flutter at this seemingly innocent boy who didn’t know what love was.
Snapping out it, you pull his attention away from the photo by calling him over. He sat next to you right at the edge of your mattress. Then, he looked at you expectantly.
“What?” You asked.
“Well… are we going to start?”
Oh, right!
“Yes!” You began, smile returning. “Yes of course, the- uh- reason why you’re… here.” This was already going bad. Maybe you should just cut your losses.
“Well, to start, what do you know about love?” Better see what he knows first and go from there. He seemed to think for a moment.
“I know that when people love someone… they care for them deeply. But I don’t quite understand the differences between the different kinds of love. They all seem the same to me.” The longer he went on the more unsure he seemed. Then, he whispered “That’s not… bad, is it?”
Pushing your pity aside, you quickly respond with an “of course not. It’s not your fault. I could get why it’d be confusing to someone who doesn’t really feel love from others. That can also include people who don’t feel certain types of love themself. You seem like a really sweet and caring person, so I’m sure it won’t be to hard to help you understand.” You tried to not mentally slap yourself at calling him “sweet” but if his reaction was anything to go by, everything you said was motivational and cheered him up.
“Okay.” He grinned, then added. “Another thing I don’t get is why some people love others who don’t treat them the same. Like, I’ve seen so many friends just giving each other things and being all gushy and stuff. But they treat you the same despite you not doing all that gushy stuff. So why do they like you?” After he finished, he realized his last remark sounded incredibly rude. Luckily, you didn’t take it that way, and -despite how confusing his question- you seemed to know exactly what to say.
“That’s because of my love language.” you smiled.
“What’s that?”
Shaking your head gently, you held up five fingers. “Love. Language. The ways someone shows love, and the ways they prefer to receive it. There’s-” you start counting down on your fingers, looking up at the ceiling. “Gift-giving, quality time, acts of service, physical touch, and…” you racked your brain. “Words of affirmation.”
He looked at you incredulously.
“What do those mean?”
You smiled at him again as you pondered these last few minutes. You were unsure at first if you even wanted to do this, but now you were certain. At first you were afraid, but that disappeared the moment he entered your dorm.
Morgie was kind; you could see it. That doesn’t mean he wasn’t also mean. People are allowed to be complicated. But as you think about everything that you have in mind to help him learn what love was, one thing was for sure:
You were going to fall in love with him.
And you were looking forward to it.
“I’ll show you.”
Part 2
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scaredycatwrites · 28 days
Text
Quiet Comfort
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Pairing: Morgie le fay x gn reader
Prompt: you were a victim of one of Uliana's outbursts and Morgie finds you in a quiet part of the courtyard and tries his best to comfort you. 
Warnings: accidental hitting, crying 
a/n: I love Uliana's character honestly so much but i just felt this was a cute idea, this is the first time i’ve posted a one shot so apologies if its badly written.
Word count: 1,851 words
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Being a VK was fun most of the time, you and your friends would have fun pulling pranks, terrorising the other kids and causing mischief in general but of course it came with its issues. Uliana was a great friend, but she was prone to outbursts of frustration and anger, especially if someone bested her at something, and today happened to be one of those days where someone decided to test Uliana's patience when she was talking down to them. Now usually you and the rest of the VK's could calm her down after a while making her feel better by reminding her that she can get them back next time but she was not in the mood for that today.
“Uli, don't let it get to you, we can get them ten times worse next time.” You spoke attempting to comfort the sea witch. But she wasn't in the mood letting a growl leave her. “Not now Y/n I don't wanna hear your attempts at helping!” Morgie and the others watched as you attempted to calm her down knowing it was probably not the best idea. You looked at her before trying once more. “But Uli, it's not the end of the world, we can get that spoiled princess back I know we can!” The others knew the look Uliana wore well, she was frustrated and at her breaking point. Uliana then snapped. “Oh my god Y/n do you ever know when to stop talking!? Just shut up! I don't need to hear your pathetic attempt at comfort! I don't want your pity!” The sea witch exclaimed her tentacles flinging out in frustration to hit at anything she could around her, unintentionally smacking you as she did so. 
Most of the group backed up to let Uliana take her frustrations out on the surrounding area however Morgie was focused on the way you stood still for a moment as you put a hand on your face where the skin was turning a purplish red on the surrounding area of where Uliana's tentacle had caught your cheek. He could see the way your eyes threatened to spill tears and in a matter of seconds you seemed to excuse yourself mumbling an apology before doing a speed walk turned jog away from your friends. 
You made your way to one of the quieter courtyard areas of Merlin Academy and sat on one of the corner benches, soft sniffles turned to silent sobs, occasional hiccups leaving you while you let out your emotions. The truth was you'd been dealing with some other stuff and this was the last straw to set off your tears you'd been holding in for a few days. It was definitely needed but inconvenient that it happened during school hours, you'd be mortified if anyone saw you crying like this, it made you feel weak and vulnerable, something you were taught by your parents that villains should never be.
Your worst nightmare began as you heard the softest little. “Hey..” come from the entrance to the courtyard, you knew those steps and that voice anywhere. Morgie. You turned your head away trying to stop the little sobs and hiccups from leaving you, taking a shaky breath you stuttered out a broken. “G-go away M-morgie.. ‘m fine..” Morgie slowly made his way closer to the bench you had sat on and sat on the other side keeping distance between you for a moment. “You don't have to be fine, it wasn't exactly a nice situation to be in, I saw how she caught your face, that must've hurt, trust me I know she's caught me a bunch before.” He half joked trying to lighten your solemn mood. You appreciated the boy's words but still felt uncomfortable appearing so vulnerable. “Morgs I'm fine.. I'll put some ice on it or whatever.” You mumbled trying to hide the shaky tone but unfortunately for you Morgie could hear the shakiness. 
Morgie then shuffled a little closer to you on the bench placing a hand on your arm hesitantly which made you jump but you didn't move his hand away. “Y/n, you don't have to hide your emotions from me, I'm not gonna make fun of you, we're friends, I'm here for you.” You felt your heart ache slightly, it was difficult for you to be openly emotional due to your villainous upbringing and Morgie knew that pretty well having grown up in similar conditions yet he seemed so soft and gentle and kind with you all the time. “Morgie, why'd you come looking for me.. You know I would've been fine on my own.” You finally glanced at the boy next to you, your face tear stained and puffy from your crying, yet that didn’t seem to phase him all too much. Morgie slowly reached a hand up, using his thumb to wipe away any tears left, the gentle motion caused your cheeks to flush a faint shade of pink although it partially blended with the red tone of your skin from the crying which you were thankful for. “I know you say you would be ok on your own but i wanted to come and check in anyway, you mean a lot to me and i want you to be ok..” Morgie attempted to hide the faint blush on his cheeks as he confessed this to you.
Morgie let out a small hum, taking a breath as he spoke in a much softer tone than his usual excitable one. “You know, i thought you were very brave to try and help Uliana, you’re always positive about things which are hard to find in a villain, you’re kind Y/n, it’s hard to find that, even in those royal snobs.” His words made the corners of your mouth turn upwards ever so slightly producing a small smile. “Morgie.. You’re so sweet, I don’t understand why you are though, Uliana’s probably gonna kick me to the curb for trying too hard to be positive.” This caused Morgie to frown. “Not on my watch, besides you did nothing to warrant being kicked out of the group. Uliana is just having one of those days, it’s not your fault at all. I’m sure if we talk to her later she’ll probably be fine with you,she just needs to cool off.” You gently nodded and took a breath realising how silly you probably sounded worrying about being kicked out of your friend group. 
You hadn’t even realised that Morgies hand was still resting on your cheek until you felt yourself leaning into the touch. He seemed to continue the gentle rubbing motion with his thumb, no longer wiping away tears but just comforting you with the gentle touch. You let out a comforted hum as he stroked your cheek, the touch was so soothing, it felt intimate in a way but you didn’t want to assume anything about the way Morgie was being. The moment of gentle touch and quiet lasted for what felt like an eternity before Morgie spoke up. “Hey Y/n, i care about you, so much.” You let out a small laugh. “Is that so? I didn’t think that villains were supposed to care about anything.” Morgie smiled a little as he rolled his eyes. “Well if that's the case then maybe i’m not a total villain because i seriously care about you Y/n, like a lot.” You looked at Morgie not expecting him to be genuine but there was nothing but genuine adoration in his eyes. “Oh.. oh Morgie that’s so sweet of you.. I care about you too.. And I seriously appreciate how kind you’ve been to me.” 
Morgie gave a gentle nod as he felt his cheeks flush at your minor confession. “Well I'm glad we’re on the same page about caring for one another.” he half joked, causing you to snicker and nod. “Me too Morgs me too.. I should probably get to my dorm before I get seen by a bunch of snobby princesses, doubt we’d live down me being caught crying with my face in your hands.” This caused Morgie to laugh a little as he hesitated before letting go of your face and standing up. You also moved to stand up, missing the feeling of Morgie’s gentle touch on your cheeks. Morgie then gestured to you to begin walking which earnt an eyebrow raise from you. “Morgie le fay, are you offering to walk me to my dorm?” you teased playfully causing his face to flush pink and he begged you didn’t see, but you of course did. “Well.. um.. Yeah I just thought it would be the polite thing to do.” you let a giggle slip out as he explained himself. “And since when did you care about being polite?” Morgie then shrugged and smiled, beginning to walk off. “Hey if you don’t want me to, I can just let you go alone.” You shook your head quickly before doing a small jog to catch up to him. “I never said I didn't want you to.” This caused him to chuckle as you walked side by side in a comfortable silence for a few minutes towards the girls' dorms. “Thank you by the way.. For uh.. Coming to check on me, you didn’t have to do that.” you spoke up as you approached your room, unlocking your door, standing in the doorway for a moment. Morgie gave a small smile as he spoke in that soft tone once again. “Anytime Y/n, seriously if you ever need anything don’t hesitate to ask me.” you nodded gently leaning your head on the doorframe giving Morgie a lopsided smile. “The same goes for you Morgs, you can always come to me if you need anything, but if you tell the others about me crying don’t forget i know where your dorm is.” You half joked. Morgie shook his head. “I would never, I swear, VK’s honour.” He gave a silly salute making himself laugh and you giggle. “I’ll see you tomorrow Morgie, get to your dorm safe.” Morgie then took your hand in his for a moment pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles causing your face to flush a bright pink. He bowed teasingly, chuckling. “I bid you goodnight dearest Y/n, sleep well and no more tears tonight or I shall have to return and you will soon tire of me doing this voice.” You laughed quietly at Morgies silly attempt at a princely voice shaking your head and rolling your eyes. “Yes I will, your unroyal evilness.” you teased making him laugh in response before moving backwards into your room giving a gentle wave. “Goodnight Morgie, you dork, you should go before curfew.” “Ah of course, goodnight y/n, don’t miss me too much!” he chimed before you watched him head off closing the door giggling to yourself and shaking your head, a warm fuzzy feeling in your chest as you thought about everything that happened and found yourself anticipating what might happen when you see Morgie again tomorrow. 
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An: I hope you enjoy this, honestly I just wanted to write some Morgie stuff because the world could use more Morgie. This is my first time posting my writing so I'm a bit anxious about it.
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hurts2think · 30 days
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I really liked ur suggestive hook fic! I was wondering if I could request the same thing for Morgie?
🐍Morgie Le Fay x Reader Suggestive Headcanon🐍
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Reader pronouns: Unspecified
Pairing: Morgie Le Fay x GN!Reader
Plot: Just some more suggestive headcanons. Nothing too explicit.
Extra: Sorry this isn't a one shot. I haven't been very inspired by the ones I have planned and the requests, I probably will tomorrow though :) send more requests for oneshots though! I'm running low!
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- Like last time, you are both Seniors and 18 years old
- He is so so gentle with you, he hardly ever gets rough or aggressive.
- ^ but he wouldn't mind if you were a little rough or aggressive
- Very soft kisses all over your face that'll eventually lead to a makeout
- He really likes the slow and soft build up
- He can be super cheesy
- He says that when he first saw you he could've sworn you were cupid because you shot him right in the heart
- Gently pulls you by the waist
- He loves when you praise him or call him cute but don't infantilze him, it makes him upset
- He's a little sensitive to touch if you touch him in the right ways but mostly he's just ticklish
- He's basically all over you all of the time. Always wrapping his arms around you and kissing your neck
- He really doesn't like hurting you or anything but he's totally into it if you're pulling his hair or holding him down
- If you express you want him to be a little more rough he will be but he'll probably ask you about a hundred times if you're okay
- "Did that hurt?" "Is this okay?" "Are you sure you're okay?"
- ^ Just kiss him to shut him up. Works everytime
- Will do just about anything you tell him to
- He doesn't exactly get very flustered if you're being flirtatious, mostly just big grins and kissing you all over in response
- If he flirts with you and you get flustered he thinks it's the cutest thing in the world
- He doesn't care about PDA either way. If you don't like it he's cool with being more private, if you do like it he'll be just as affectionate in public
- Again, most makeouts start very soft and sweet but they can escalate to getting pretty heated
- Not aggressive but very passionate
- He's a very restless and antsy person so during these makeouts he's not exactly sure where to rest his hands so they usually just explore all over your body
- Slips a hand up your shirt for more direct skin to skin contact (He has the softest and coldest hands ever)
- Little love bites, nothing hard enough to hurt you but enough to get your worked up
- Speaking of biting^ he likes to use his teeth when it comes to pulling your shirt down/unbuttoning your shirt so he can kiss on your chest too
- Sometimes when he bites you it'll leave marks, he'll always ask if you're okay when this happens but he secretly loves it
- He loves seeing any marks he's made on you as long as they didn't hurt you
- Always asks "Is this okay?" When doing anything. The last thing he ever wants is to make you uncomfortable.
- Loves to grab and squeeze your legs as long as you're okay with it
- He loves every part of you and will always go out of his way to make sure you know that
- He'll hold you against a wall maybe even push a knee between your legs but of course he's always nice and gentle about it
- You two probably switch a lot with who the more dominant one is. He doesn't mind either way and really it's usually up to you.
- Mid makeout session and you decide you want him to take the lead? No problem, just tell him and he'd be happy to
- He can be a little clueless so he definitely prefers if you straight up tell him what you want
- He loves the rain so much. Will always drag you out in the rain with him
- He's not a particularly jealous person but is very protective of you
- He is the son of the most powerful sorcerer, so don't be surprised when that guy who threatened you magically disappears the next day
- He likes to play music during your intimate moments
- He tires out pretty quickly. After any heated makeout session he almost always falls asleep ontop of you almost immediately afterwards
- When you guys go out together if he ever sees a flower bush or something he'll always pick one and give it to you
- He's not very confident in himself and does really like praise but also loves when you help motivate him to be proud of himself on his own
- He uses quite a bit of tongue unless you don't like it
- Biting and then kissing the place he just bit
- Gently bites at your lips when making out
- Despite what you might think, he's actually pretty sensual very often. Yes he's also wholesome and into cute things, but he's surprisingly more into sensual stuff more often than not
- If you steal his clothes, he loves it. He absolutely adores seeing you in his clothes, will always lead to a very passionate session
- He really just loves you a lot and always wants to make sure you're safe and happy, because as long as you are, then so is he.
97 notes · View notes
crowpickingss · 10 days
Text
Valentine
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morgie x gn! reader
summary: the reader is inexperienced in the love department
warnings: fluff, small panic attack
a/n: loosely based on the laufey song with the same title
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You were never one for love, the whole appeal never stuck out to you. However when one villainous boy asked you out, you couldn’t say no.
It didn’t help that you were an over thinker and his common gestures of love would leave you dumbfounded. Every time you were with him your mind was racing. Hitting your brain with thousands of what if’s.
Morgie was fascinated by your overthinking tendencies, he was more a simple straightforward guy so to see the opposite made him bewildered. He loved the way you would stutter after a compliment or take a couple seconds to respond after he kissed you.
On one particular day Morgie had only hugged you in the morning instead of his usual kiss. Your brain immediately went into panic mode. Your train of thought was moving so fast you might’ve passed out.
Morgie noticed your slight panic attack when your breathing grew heavier. He was a little inexperienced on how to deal with these so he used the only he knew would snap you out of it.
He grabbed your chin and pulled you into a deep kiss. The sudden contact put your mind at ease. You fully leaned into the kiss breaking apart to breathe. When he saw your breathing return back to normal he smiled, pleased with himself that he had calmed you down.
Hook approached you two seconds later “Way to show affection, right in the halls too” Your cheeks went bright red, you had been to in your thoughts to realise he had kissed you in the middle of the hall “I just want to let everyone know how much I love you”
The corners of your mouth raised in an instant. Your head leaning over to Morgie’s shoulder “Also to snap you out of your daze” You lightly punched him in the arm, proving to Hook how much of a couple you two really are.
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lilacs-stars · 1 month
Text
shattered reflections
pairing: morgie le fay x fem!reader (requested) (note: reader is merlin's daughter) SUMMARY: you, the perfect child and student, have always been the epitome of righteousness. but what happens when you encounter a particularly annoying VK one night, when you're out doing something you're not supposed to? GENRE: pure, unbridled, heart-wrenching angst (I recommend a box of tissues), action scenes, some light humor, a bit of comfort, flirty banter CW: absent mother, neglectful father, family troubles, cursing, magical fighting, a bit of blood, threats, mentions of violence and stealing, heavy emotions WC: 15.2k (to those of you hungry for morgie fics…you have been fed) BACKGROUND: the mirror of ytirev is pronounced yih-tur-ev, the spells are all in latin (for anyone wondering)
A/N: this got a loooot longer and deeper than I thought it would...seriously how did we get here. I had fun adding some touches of light humor to offset the angst, and experimenting with different pov's was nice too. sooo go get comfy and settle down, and have fun reading this! (the ending is worth it I swear). thank you to the anon who requested this for all the details, I hope you enjoy! all feedback is highly appreciated, I'd love to know your thoughts and reactions!
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A piercing clatter sounds from somewhere behind you. You whip around, eyes locking with snake-like slits glowing in the dark.
Shit, you think. 
They finally discovered my secret.
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“…can anyone explain to me the properties of goblin mucus?” the teacher of your Magical Artifacts and Antiquities class asks.
A hand shoots up, causing a smile to spread on her face as she calls on the student—only to be met with the reply, “Miss, it says in our textbook that there’s a highly powerful and dangerous artifact stored here, in Merlin Academy. What’s that all about?”
The teacher’s smile falters for a brief second, but she answers the question regardless. “Yes, every class today has asked me about that. It seems like it’s only the dangerous objects that attract students’ attention. Class, turn to page two hundred seventy-five, where there is a more detailed explanation.”
Everyone flips through the pages of their books, more eager to learn than they’ve been for the entire lesson. Your teacher waits a moment before continuing.
“As it says in your textbooks, the Mirror of Ytirev is indeed kept in this school, although it is locked away in a very safe and secure place. For everyone’s safety, and the Mirror’s security. Now, can anyone tell me how it was created?”
You raise your hand swiftly, already knowing the answer from having read this chapter before it was even covered in class, along with the next three chapters. “After the creator of the Evil Queen’s magic mirror originally made it, he accidentally dropped it on the floor, causing it to shatter. He reconstructed the mirror using the larger shards, which became the famed mirror that eventually ended up in the hands of the Evil Queen. But there were still many miniscule fragments left from the first mirror, so he melted them again and made a smaller, weaker version of the Evil Queen's mirror. The small mirror is known today as the Mirror of Ytirev.” 
Your teacher beams again at your perfect recitation. “That is precisely correct, Y/N. Although I don’t expect anything less from the headmaster’s daughter, of course.
“This mirror has the ability to show its user exactly one truth, an answer to any question. But since its original form was shattered, its magic is no longer stable. That’s why it is covered in this chapter,” she continues to the class. “As you can see in the image in your textbook, it is a portable artifact, putting it in Category D, Type Three.”
You look down at your textbook, studying the picture of the mirror, despite having looked at it before. It depicts a vintage handheld mirror, encased in a detailed and ornate silver frame that surrounds the glass itself. The intricate carvings of the metal create symmetrical twin arches at the top of the mirror, ending in fancy loops. In these arches two bright red gemstones are set, their edges cleanly cut and shining brilliantly. The glass of the mirror looks almost cracked, although you know it isn't really.
Just as the thought passes through your mind, someone calls out, “Why is the mirror cracked? I thought the creator fixed it.”
The answer pops up in your brain before the teacher even opens her mouth, but you still patiently listen to her as she explains to the rest of the class. “It’s not really cracked, it just appears that way to anyone who looks at it. The only time someone can see the mirror’s smooth surface is if they’re staring directly in the eyes of their own reflection. When someone does this, it is rumored they will see the truest form of themselves, the truth they desire the most.”
Someone else raises their hand, and the teacher calls on them this time. “So,” they ask, “you can get the answer to anything from that? Like how to become rich or live forever?”
The teacher masks what you can tell is a rather displeased look with yet another—fake—smile. She turns to face the entire class, a telltale sign that the student said something wrong. “Now, as we all know, there’s always a price to magic. When it comes to this mirror, due to its unstable powers, there are many prices.”
She continues her lecture, one that provides you with absolutely no new information, but being the ever-diligent student you are, you continue to listen intently. “If you look at the next page, it explains that anyone who wishes to use the Mirror must first present an offering that is very dear to them. If the Mirror accepts the offering, it allows the person to ask their question.” “And if it doesn’t?” your classmate asked.
“Does anyone know the answer to that?” The teacher looks around the class, before her eyes land on you. “Y/N?”
You brighten up at being called on, before rattling off the information as if it was common knowledge. “If the Mirror doesn’t accept the offering, or if it becomes displeased for any other reason, it will drag the person’s soul not to enlightenment, but to eternal torment. They will end up losing their mind and going crazy, with any form of intelligent life getting absorbed by the Mirror.”
“Correct again,” your teacher praises, and you beam. “And if that's not enough to ward any of you off, keep in mind that everyone who has ever used the Mirror has gone completely mad. No one has ever obtained the answer they sought; instead, they were all lost to its evil spirit. And let me assure you, many people throughout history have attempted to use the Mirror, only to fail. Therefore, it was voted as too dangerous for any beneficial uses by the Department of Magical Security. That is why it is contained here, under the watchful eye of our very own Headmaster Merlin.” 
At the mention of your father, everyone turns to stare at you, as if you’re somehow the reason the Mirror is locked up. Despite the stifling moment of silence, you shrug off the unwanted attention. After all, you’re used to this. Used to the looks that other kids give you when you receive special attention from teachers for being the smartest one, for always raising your hand, for answering questions perfectly, for acing every test and having every homework assignment completed—yet refusing to share your answers (“But if I tell you the answers, how will you ever learn?”). 
Used to the whispers that follow you everywhere you go, rumors of your family life; how your mother must have left because of your father’s bad habits, or neglect, or because she was having an affair with another man. Constant reminders of the past.
Used to how everyone walks on eggshells around you, how they all put you on a ledge far away from them. How people’s conversations quiet as you pass by, afraid you’ll go and report them to your father at the slightest whiff of mischief. How they always eye you when they pass notes in class or plan a prank—as if you weren't already aware of what they were doing—sometimes even begging you not to tell on them.
Used to how teachers and adults in your life expect the absolute best of you. Even when there’s no more left of yourself to give. 
How they expect you to be the absolute best, a paragon of righteousness. You always have to determine the right decision, make the right call, be the epitome of morality and virtue. This is your burden to bear, all by yourself; instead of worries over bad grades or boys, you suffer under the crushing weight of the expectations of everyone around you. The expectations of society.
Briiiiiiingg! The sound of the bell marking the end of class snaps you out of your musings. “Um, Miss?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the sounds of everyone packing their bags.
“You didn’t tell us what our homework assignment is for tonight.”
“Oh, that’s right! Thank you for reminding me, Y/N,” the teacher exclaims amidst a chorus of groans, along with a few colorful words directed your way. “Everyone, please finish up chapter three and be prepared to turn in your report on seventh century runes by the start of tomorrow’s class.”
After all, you’re used to how right they are about you.
…Or so they think.
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“Oh good, Y/N! I was looking for you all over, you know,” a panting, all-too familiar voice calls out from behind you. You freeze in your tracks, grimacing. After a deep breath, you paint a smile on your face, before turning around.
A tall man, although much shorter due to his slouched posture, hurries towards you animatedly. His short, dark brown hair is matted against the top of his head, and a thick, bushy beard trails down from his chin, rounding above his mouth in a matching mustache. He dons a pair of thin spectacles that hang low on his large nose, dressed in a dark blue robe with faint golden embroidery and a waistcoat to match. A little brown stick juts out from a hidden pocket inside his robe, an object you can only assume to be his wand—which you are quite shocked he hadn’t lost today yet.
“Dad!” you say as enthusiastically as you can muster, but if anyone had been looking closely, they would have seen the way you ever so slightly cringe as he stumbles towards you. You silently thank the heavens that this man doesn’t pay much attention to anything. Not even to his own family.
Merlin clambers towards you, gripping one of your shoulders once you’re within arm’s length. He pants, leaning his weight on you as he catches his breath.
“Dad, what is it?” you ask him, trying your best not to fall over from supporting him.
“I-I…k-keys,” he wheezes.
“You lost your keys?” This certainly isn't the first time he’s come to you with this problem, and you definitely won't bet it'll be his last.
He nods, clutching his chest as his breathing finally evens out. “Phew,” he says, letting go of your shoulder. “My spare keys to my office…I can’t seem to find where I’ve put them.”
“You mean that big ring that has a copy of about every single key needed to unlock absolutely anything in this school?” you ask, incredulous at the way he nods feverishly. Honestly, how he doesn’t see the issue with what you just plainly pointed out is beyond you.
“Nope, haven’t seen them,” you reply. “Have you checked under the counter? Inside your desk drawers? In the little pockets sewn in the other pockets in all of your robes? On top of a clothing rack? Under the vase of orchids? In the fish bowl? In the left sock from your pair that has those reindeers on them?”
He nods at each one, sometimes hesitating as if recalling something deep in his memory , but then continuing to fervently nod nonetheless. You sigh again. “Well, I don’t know then. I suppose you’ve found someplace new to hide them this time.”
“Hmm…” he mutters, scratching his beard.
“Well, Dad, I don’t know if you heard, but I, uh, I made top student of my year last quarter. For the fifth consecutive time,” you mention, trying to ease into the conversation, albeit very tentatively and with great unease. Most people’s parents would applaud them and give them a prize for merely getting an A. Yours, on the other hand, barely remembers which grade you’re in.
Your father snaps his head up, staring at you with an eccentric haze in his eyes. You feel a small glimmer of hope; maybe he’s going to give you a pat on the back this time, or perhaps offer to take you out for a celebratory dinner. You wait for his response, completely still as if frozen in time, anticipation buzzing throughout every nerve.
“Wait…I believe I put it in the mouth of that owl statue…” He freezes erratically, brow furrowed in deep concentration, before releasing the tension in his body and going back to slumping. “No, I think I already checked there.”
You take a nice, long, deep breath, using up every last ounce of your carefully practiced self-control, which you had perfected through years of deploying in stifling social situations that made you want to crawl out of your own skin, to remain calm in this moment. “Well, I hope you find it.” Giving him one last attempt at even a semblance of a smile, you sharply turn back around on your heel, continuing down the hall to your first class of the day.
Watching the early morning rays of sunshine through the tall windows of the corridor, you think back to the discussion you had yesterday in your Artifacts class. You had answered every question correctly, every fact written in ink not only committed to memory but etched into the very foundation of your brain. 
You wonder if he knows of all the hard work you put into school. All the grueling hours you spend studying, all the sleepless nights you spend fighting against your body’s very nature to stay awake and keep your eyes open just enough to read the page. Heck, you wonder if he even remembers that your birthday is coming up next month—or that you gave him your wish list ages ago to ensure that he gets at least one present you asked for, unlike other years.
No, of course he doesn’t remember, you remind yourself. He doesn’t care about me. He never did.
Just like he didn’t care about Mom when she disappeared.
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“Ugh, my nail chipped again. I should find the girl who did these and squeeze her to death.”
A tentacle floating in midair tightens and coils around nothingness, miming the strangulation of an innocent soul with a disturbing nonchalance. A girl with dark skin and long locks in colors such as blue, teal, and yellow, done up in a small bunch on top of her head, checks the painted nails on her left hand with a scowl on her face. 
“Come on, Uli, you’re getting your nails done like, every week,” the god of the Underworld replies, indifference practically seeping through his spiked leather jacket as he chews gum and gives the sea witch a look. “At least find yourself someone better.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Uliana snaps, dropping her hand exasperatedly as she huffs.
A sorceress with purple eyeshadow and two sleek, black horns protruding from the sides of her head rolls her eyes as she complains, “This is so boring.” 
“Well, what do you suggest we do then, love?” a crisply accented voice asks, sounding from a boy with neatly parted brown hair and a golden hook that ends in a sharp, gleaming point.
“Did you hear that there’s a, like, super dangerous magical object being kept here?” Maleficent asks, somehow keeping her voice incredibly monotonous and deathly uninterested, even as her words themselves convey enthusiasm. 
“Yeah, apparently it can tell anyone anything they want to know,” Hades replies. “I don’t know why they’re keeping it here, though.”
Uliana turns back to the group, a malicious glint in her eye. Even before she opens her mouth, the boy with powers rather similar to those of a snake can already guess what she’s going to say.
“How about we go steal it?” she asks, a wicked grin already twisting onto her features.
“You do realize that everyone who’s ever used it has gone mad, right?” Hook asks, raising his eyebrows incredulously as he gives Uliana a look of disbelief.
“We won’t use it ourselves, idiot,” she snaps. “But it’ll be fun to steal it and cause a panic. Right, Morgie?”
Morgie swallows, looking up at Uliana with wide eyes. “Of course! C’mon, you guys. Think of the mischief we can cause with it! We can make people think some kids used it and went crazy”—he leans in, excitement growing as he speaks, making wide gestures with his hands—“and everyone would be so scared! They’d probably cancel school, too!”
Uliana grins diabolically again. “Morgie, honey,” she starts, slipping one of her tentacles under his chin, lifting his face up towards her. “How about you do this one?”
“I-I, uh…” he stammers, uncertainty laced in his voice. He definitely wasn't expecting this turn of events.
“Come on, please,” Uliana pouts. “Do it for me? After all, you’re only stealing a little mirror. How hard can that be?”
Morgie glances up at her again, before tugging uncomfortably on the black scarf wrapped around his neck. “But…it’s super dangerous…”
“Don’t you want to be evil? Don't you want to wreak havoc and cause pain?” Uliana taunts. “Or, are you”—she lets out a faux gasp—“afraid?”
“N-no, not at all!" Morgie exclaims, trying to sound more courageous than he feels. “I’ll do it!”
“Perfect,” the sea witch coos, removing her tentacle arm. “You’ll do it tonight.” She turns back to the group, adding, “I hear that old troll keeps the most dangerous and evil artifacts locked up in a room off the east wing, on the third level.”
Morgie gulps, already trying to wrap his head around the fact that he’d be doing the heist tonight. Hook, jumping off a ledge, asks, “You mean the one guarded by different spells and magical alarms?”
Uliana grins wickedly. “Nothing a little bit of Kraken Powder can’t fix.” She holds up a small vial hanging from a string around her neck like a necklace. It's common knowledge how incredibly rare Kraken Powder is, which makes sense, given how potent its anti-magic properties are.
Everyone catches on to what Uliana's implying, causing the group to all laugh together at their evil plan. Morgie tries his best to join along, but he can’t quite seem to get rid of the uneasy knot already forming in the pit of his stomach.
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“You remember the plan?”
Uliana’s slippery tentacles glisten under the moonlight, flailing around behind her in midair. Morgie nods, attempting to still his quivering hands before Uliana notices them. He tries, with a miserable sense of impending doom, to swallow the lump in his throat, but to no avail.
“Here, I stole these from Merlin’s office,” Uliana explains as one of her tentacles drops a large ring filled with probably around two dozen keys, each in various shapes and colors, straight into Morgie's open palm. “One of these has to fit the door. You didn’t forget what you need to do, right?”
Morgie clears his throat, choking out a meager, “Yep.” He pockets the keys, seriously hoping they don’t clink together and make too much noise while he moves. As Uliana already repeated a hundred times, “It’s crucial you don’t get caught.”
Morgie reaches up to touch the vial hanging from his neck yet again, making sure it’s still there—after all, better safe than sorry. Once more, he glances at the large grandfather clock in the common area where he and Uliana lurk in the shadows, waiting. Finally, its bells chime midnight, and Uliana turns back to him as the ringing reverberates around them.
“Go, hurry!” the sea witch urges, pushing him toward the door with a tentacle. 
Morgie nods, hurriedly rushing to the exit. The first part of the plan—a plan he so diligently committed to memory—is for him to sneak out while the bells are still ringing, to mask the sound of the door opening and closing. Thankfully, he makes it out by the tenth chime, carefully closing the door to make sure the latch doesn’t sound by the eleventh.
Okay, I’m really doing this, Morgie thinks as he stares into the deserted corridor. He tiptoes around silently, but still as quickly as possible. Time is, obviously, of utmost importance in missions like this.
At last, he reaches his destination. The unassuming—and misleadingly so—wooden door looms over him, ominous through the lens of his knowledge of what lies beyond it. 
An amateur villain would simply pick the lock and open the door, but Morgie is too experienced in such endeavors to make a rookie mistake like that (Uliana told him what to do, step-by-step).
He hovers his hand above the lock, taking a steadying breath as he summons the powers that reside within him. His pupils shrink into the tiniest slivers of blackness as a dark, magical smoke emits from his palm. He makes a faint hissing noise, reciting an old incantation in a tongue far different from what normal humans use, and the lock softly clicks as the door creaks open. Practically inviting him inside.
Morgie pushes it open the rest of the way, making sure to shut it behind him so as to not raise the suspicion of any night guards roaming the halls.
He turns back around, now faced with a dark, menacing hallway. Walking slowly down it, he looks around with a chilling captivation. Old suits of armor leer down at him, rustic and each coated with a thick layer of dust. Large spiderwebs cover every visible nook and cranny, which makes Morgie exceedingly grateful that the actual spiders aren't in his line of sight.
At the end of the corridor stands yet another large door, matching the first. This one, according to Uliana, has even more security than the other. Time to use my secret weapon, Morgie thinks, reaching to pull the vial of Kraken Powder out from under his shirt. He opens the cap and sprinkles a little of the finely grained dust into his palm, then blows it over the lock of the door.
At first glance, it appears the powder didn’t work, as nothing seem to change. But anyone with an affinity for magical energy can feel the spells placed on the lock of the door melt away without a trace. After the door is unarmed, Morgie fishes in his pocket for the keys. They clang horribly as he pulls them out, echoing up into the tall ceiling of the hallway. He freezes, listening intently for footsteps somewhere outside. When he hears none, Morgie begins the task of figuring out which key fits the lock.
He goes through nearly half the ring (Seriously, who keeps all their keys in one place?) before finding the one that fits perfectly. Twisting it with a swift movement, the door unlocks, and he creeps inside. 
To his immense shock, there isn't a room behind the door filled with evil objects or piled with gold coins. Instead, there’s a…
…library?
Morgie walks inside, utterly confused. Had Uliana gotten the location wrong? No, there's no way. The doors were too guarded for a normal library.
He continues down one of the aisles, wondering why he's never seen this place before. It is extremely large, with arched ceilings meters and meters above his head. Tall bookshelves tower over him, so tall that he can barely see the highest shelves.
Lined against the walls and placed on the shelves are also glass jars and containers filled with seemingly normal items: a seashell necklace, a deck of playing cards, a cane with the head of a snake. But there's something sinister about them; some strange aura that hovers above each object. In fact, it fills the entire expanse of the library. 
Morgie stops by one of the shelves, reading the titles. He brushes his fingers along one of the spines—and that’s when he feels it. An ominous energy rushes through his fingertips, electrifying his every nerve at it travels through him, causing him to realize that this is no normal book. It’s a book of dark magic.
He spins around in a circle, eyeing the entirety of the library. Now that he thinks about it, the whole place has the heavy atmosphere of dark magic. And that’s when it hits him: this is no normal library, and neither are the books. This is the room of forbidden artifacts. It just so happens that most of those artifacts are books, probably containing content deemed too dangerous for normal people to learn.
Morgie briefly considers taking a few of the books off the shelves and perusing through them, or maybe even slipping a couple in his jacket and taking them back with him. After all, all these forbidden books must have countless evil spells and potions. If he and the rest of his group got their hands on these…
However, after a moment of serious consideration, he decides the better of it. He's here for another purpose, and Uliana would be outraged if he only came back with a few meager books, no matter the contents.
Continuing through the labyrinth of shelves, Morgie looks around meticulously, trying to figure out a rhyme or reason to the order of things. No student has ever been in here, and he doubts many of the teachers have, either. Therefore, there were no references or guides to help him and his friends figure out where in the room the Mirror is located. Plus, he doesn’t think any of them had expected the place to be so colossal—he surely hadn't.
After a few minutes of stumbling around in the near darkness, he finally comes across a ladder leaning against one of the shelves. It’s so tall he can’t see the top of it, but deciding it’s his best chance at finding his bearings, Morgie begins the long climb up.
He isn’t really afraid of heights. Not in the way that some people refuse to go on anything more than a few feet off the ground. But he honestly doesn’t see how anyone couldn’t feel at least a little queasy at the high altitude. I must be a dozen meters off the ground, Morgie realizes as he glances down. I wonder what would happen if I fell—
He cuts the thought off before he can imagine the gruesome details. Instead, he looks back up and around the library. From all the way up here, he can see the top of the shelves, and he really was right: this place was designed to be a maze.
On the far side of the area, his eyes spot lots of glass cases reflecting the soft moonlight and flames of enchanted candles. That must be where most of the objects are kept. Chances are, the Mirror’s there too.
He mentally charts out a course through the labyrinth, trying to remember the directions for more than two seconds. Right, left, left again, forward, right, right again, left, forward—or wait, was it right? After a few minutes, he climbs back down the ladder, praying to the demons of the Underworld that he remembers the path correctly and doesn’t get lost.
Morgie makes his way through the maze, growing more and more fascinated by the creepy and wonderful objects around him. He can’t stop thinking about how nice—and useful—it would be to pocket some of them, or maybe come back here and spend more time studying them. Every time he passes by something that intrigues him, his mind immediately wonders if it would fit inside his clothes.
Despite this, he resists the urge to steal things, as he can’t have anything weighing him down in case there are more challenges or enchantments he has to disarm before getting the Mirror. But perhaps on the way back…
His train of thought drifts away as he finally reaches a large area that is surrounded by glass cases, on tables and lining the shelves set into the walls. He never imagined there would be so many forbidden artifacts in total, much less in one place, although maybe that's because he's never really paid attention in class.
From the top of a shelf a few meters away, something catches his eye. A mysterious, eerie white fog pours from one of the highest shelves, dissipating as it cascades down the front of the bookcase. He remembers hearing something about mist related to the Mirror, and deciding it’s worth a shot, he moves closer to check it out.
And that’s when he sees it.
A dark flurry of movement from another one of the top shelves catches his attention. Morgie snaps his head up, brows furrowing as he squints, eyes trailing the structures above him. But he can’t quite make out anything, at least not in the faint light, so he hesitantly shrugs it off and continues towards the mysterious fog—albeit not being able to shake off the strange feeling he has that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
He takes a few more steps, and just as he's nearly convinced himself he’s only being paranoid, it happens again. Now that he’s closer, he can see there’s another tall ladder reaching up to around where the movement is happening, close to the Mirror. This time, his eyes register the shape. 
A dark, human figure moves up the ladder, blending in and out of the shadows. 
Morgie’s eyes grow wide, pupils shrinking back into snake-like slits as a reptilian hiss escapes his mouth. There shouldn't be anyone else here.
The figure freezes in place before turning around to face him, hanging halfway up the ladder. Although Morgie can’t see their face, concealed by a thick black hood, he can tell they saw him. 
He stretches out his arms, summoning black magic that swirls around his hands and up to his elbows again. After but a second of him and the hooded figure staring at each other—which somehow felt like an hour—Morgie throws his arm forward, aimed for the figure.
A ball of twisting dark energy shoots from his hand and towards the hooded face. The figure ducks down, dodging the attack. Undeterred, Morgie hurls more swirls of dark magic. The figure dodges the first few of them, but they must have realized that merely ducking down won't be enough to win this fight, because they summon a shield of buzzing yellow electricity to block the next few attacks.
Morgie quickly becomes aware that he isn’t winning the fight like this; he needs a new strategy. And that’s when he spots it.
He puts his hands close together in front of his chest, gathering a potent sphere of black magic between his palms. The figure stands there, motionless, still hanging onto the ladder.
If you can’t knock them down, pull the carpet out from under their feet.
He thrusts both of his hands forward, sending the ball of magic not at the figure, but at the base of the ladder instead. By the time they realize what he's doing, it’s too late.
Morgie’s magic collides with the bottom rungs, exploding the material and sending wooden splinters flying everywhere. He watches as the figure falls, swiftly summoning a flash of lightning below them as they plummet, easing the crash as they hit the ground. 
The aftermath of the explosion has Morgie ducking down and covering his face with his arm, barely being able to make out what happened to the hooded person. As the dust finally settles, Morgie spots the figure get up, gripping their head as if in pain. They stumble a little, then bush off their black robe as they check for other injuries.
As if abruptly remembering why they had fallen, they spin around to face Morgie. He stares, wide-eyed in pure disbelief, as the figure comes face-to-face with him. Even though they don’t seem to be too hurt, and definitely still alive, the force of the impact caused their hood to be knocked off their head.
Morgie’s mouth drops open as he registers the figure’s face.
There, in front of him, in the forbidden archive harboring some of the world's most dangerously powerful magical objects during the dead of night, stands the headmaster’s daughter.
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Your grimace grows as you lock eyes with a boy with light brown hair, hazel eyes shrunk into slits resembling a snake’s, causing your head to throb even worse.
You watch as the realization dawns upon the boy’s face, cursing the skies for this little issue that you now have to deal with.
He knows your secret.
“Y-you, you, you’re the headmaster’s daughter,” he sputters out, disbelief still painted on his face, as clear as day. Seriously, if he keeps his jaw open like that, it’ll fall off.
“Yeah, no shit,” you spit back, not paying much attention to his stunned little face. Your mind is overwhelmed with a swirling whirlwind of thoughts and ideas on how to get rid of this new liability, each plan vying for your attention, each one crueler than the last.
After all, now that he knows who you really are, how you're not a rule-abiding goody-goody, there’s no point in keeping up your sweet, innocent facade. You finally let your mask slip off, the mask that you wear constantly in the presence of others. The mask that you only relieve yourself of when you’re all alone, with no one to see your callous, vindictive, cynical side. Your true side.
Ever since that day, at least. The day that forever changed your life.
“What are you doing here?” the boy stammers, as if it isn't already dreadfully obvious.
“The same thing you’re doing here.” “How do you know what I’m doing here?”
You sigh, rubbing your temples. Honestly, this kid could not be more of a dunderhead. “Look, I don’t have time for this. Either get out of my way, or I’ll make you get out of my way.”
At your threat, the boy, whose name you happen to remember from a class you took with him last year, changes his stance. Morgie widens his legs, arms fanned out besides him whilst summoning dark energy that clings to his skin, alive and breathing, yet submissive to its master’s will.
“Aren’t you like, a goody-goody?” he asks, face still scrunched in confusion. “I’ve heard teachers go on and on about how good your grades are, how polite you are, how you’re the perfect student.”
You roll your eyes, annoyed at his relentless questions. It 's already bad enough that he knows this much. You don't need him finding out more.
“Well, looks can be deceiving,” you respond as vaguely as possible, hoping that it’ll shut him up. Instead, he cocks his head to the side, shooting back, “I don’t really think so.”
You try your best to not encourage him and his irritating questions, but you can’t help but begrudgingly ask, “How so?”
Morgie looks at you for a beat with an intent gaze, before replying, “I always thought you were too pretty for a hero.”
Uh, excuse me, what? you think. Now it’s your turn to be shocked. “You don’t find me scary?” You had always assumed that people would be terrified if they saw your real, unfiltered side.
“No, not really. I mean, I’m evil too. If anything, I find you even hotter now that I know you’re not a goody-goody.”
Blinking hard, your eyebrows shoot into the air. There is no way he just said that. Your mind is uncontrollably reeling at his words, but only for a brief moment. Before you can read too deeply into it, your attention is quickly snapped back to the black magic still swirling around him, growing by the second. Ah, a ploy to distract me. Maybe he is more clever than he lets on.
“Listen, Morgie,” you snarl threateningly. “That mirror is mine.”
“Wait, you’re here for the Mirror too?” he asks, with far too light a tone for a situation such as this.
“Th-that was obvious the whole time!” you exclaim, unbelievably irritated. “What did you think I was here for?” “I dunno, a book or something.” He shrugs casually, before narrowing his eyes. “Wait, what do you want the Mirror for?”
“That’s none of your business,” you snap back, fingers thrumming with the rush of energy as you summon your own magic. Letting your curiosity get the better of you yet again, you add, “Why do you want it?”
“I’m a villain. I steal things for fun,” he replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “What does a goody-two-shoes hero want to do with a forbidden artifact?”
Barely listening to his words, you study him carefully, needing to know the extent of his powers if you’re going to win the inevitable fight that you can sense coming. You see how his ever-growing dark magic stalls temporarily as he talks, probably from getting distracted while speaking. That’s it. Deciding to buy yourself some time, you use this little weakness to your advantage.
“I want the Mirror because I want to use it.” Even though you’re planning on entertaining his pointless questions, you definitely aren’t going to give him information for free.
“Use it? To get an answer?” His magic hesitates again.
“No, to look at myself.” You see the way his eyebrows furrow in confusion, and you’re pretty sure you’re about to implode. “Of course to get an answer, you dumbass! Unlike you, I don’t go risking my life ‘for fun.’”
“What are you even going to use as an offering? You have to give it something, you know.”
You sigh, reaching underneath your shirt to pull out a small silver locket, its chain blackened from the trials of time. Dangling it from your fingers, you show it to Morgie.
“A locket?” he asks incredulously. “The offering's supposed to be something really special or precious.”
“It is really precious,” you hiss, tucking it back into your shirt. “It’s the most precious thing I own. If anything’s going to make the Mirror work, it’s this.”
“Well, you’re not going to get the Mirror anyways. It’s mine.” He widens his stance again, his magic continuing to grow around him. No, I need a little more time, you think, masking your growing panic with an insouciant eye roll.
“Why?” you question. “You’re not even going to use it.”
“I still need it.” “But why?”
“I won’t tell you if you won’t tell me!” he exclaims. Despite his little outburst, you can tell there’s something he’s hiding. After all, you are a master of concealing the truth yourself. “Plus, you know that everyone who's ever used the mirror has gone crazy, right? You’re literally sentencing yourself to a life of madness.” You give him an unamused look. “I’m the top of our year. Obviously I know everything there is to know about the Mirror of Ytirev.”
He gazes at you in a way you can’t decipher, but it’s softer, more sympathetic than his former glare. You notice that his snake eyes have disappeared as well, despite the magical energy still surrounding him. “Then why are you still doing this, despite the risks?”
You falter, for just a second, letting a sliver of emotion slip through. But as quickly as it happened, you patch it back up, returning to your cold, glowering face. “It’s a price I’m willing to pay.” You expect him to drop it after that, but he continues to press you. “You’re prepared to give up your morals? Your status as a hero? You’re willing to lose all your integrity for one answer?”
God, he talks too much. With a sniff, you throw your hands out in front of you, releasing a bright flash of crackling electricity that had been building up as you cry out, “I don’t care how evil I have to become, I will find the truth, one way or another!”
The lightning shoots forward without warning, hot as an inferno, piercing straight through his chest and flinging him backwards into a shelf like a ragdoll. He falls down to his knees, and for a split second, you wonder if he’s going to get up again. Clutching his chest, he wheezes yet still manages to stand up, summoning wispy black tendrils that shoot at you like arrows.
You tuck and roll, dodging them, whilst building up more crackling lightning between your fingers. The last tendril hits far too close to you for comfort, burning a hole in your robe. That would have been my flesh, had it hit me, you realize in sudden horror.
Seeing as how your opponent is summoning even more dark magic to hit you with, now engulfing his entire body, you break into a sprint. Black spears collide with the shelves behind you one after another, barely missing you, as you run past glass cases, each containing a different artifact that glistens in the silver moonlight. Something across the arena seizes your attention, and a plan begins to piece itself together in your head. You continue your dash towards the shelves behind Morgie. Once you reach a section with books instead of random magical objects, you slow your pace. Amidst Morgie's unrelenting attacks, you create a golden shield of electricity that sparks and crackles, almost alive, and which reaches as tall as you. You jog past the shelves, head craned as you scan the book titles as quickly as possible.
Morgie persists in launching balls of dark magic directly at you, smashing into your shield. Your panic rises as cracks begin to form, at first only small fissures, but growing larger and larger with each sphere that pummels your way.
You run parallel to the shelf, which boxes in the rest of the area in a rectangular shape, eyes frantically darting over words with barely enough time for your brain to comprehend them.
Glancing up as a whorl of blackness blasts the books resting directly in front of you, you duck down, yet continue to run. That’s when you see a thick tome, larger than the others and bearing a dark red cover, jutting out from a shelf a few meters in front of you. With your magical shield barely staying intact, you lunge towards it, snatching the book as you fall towards the ground and somersault behind a desk-sized wooden stand to hide. On top of it stands a glass display case, with faint candlelight illuminating the rustic, yet enchanted, metal shield contained inside it.
You crouch down, flipping through the pages of the book desperately, trying to find the incantation you know has to be in there. One time, on one of your random visits to the library—the normal one, not this hell of the most cursed items in the land—you had picked up a text that talked about the history of spellcasting. Detailed inside was a description of one of the first books of curses ever written, which had been banned from production shortly after its release due to the nature of its contents. There had been a small sketch next to the explanation, which just so happens to match the tome now weighing in your hands.
Morgie’s blasts of magic don’t stop, pounding the wooden stand and the glass case alike. You think he yells something, but you can’t tell; you’re too focused on squinting at the fine print on the page, eyes wildly scanning the names of the spells. The desk quakes with every attack, causing your hands to tremble as you rifle through the pages hastily, pointer finger trailing down the lists of incantations. 
Finally, your eyes lock onto the one you want. “Obiectum impedit semitam,” you recite, gaze darting between the page and the glass case above you. It quivers vigorously, yet remains unscathed due to its magic-bulletproof nature.
“Evanescet a lumine irae meae!” As soon as the last syllable leaves your tongue, the glass case dissipates into thin air. Your hand darts up, clutching the shield and shoving it in front of you. Just in time, as the wooden stand protecting you explodes from the force of Morgie’s dark magic, blasting into a shower of mere splinters that rain down around you. The shockwave causes you to recoil, even as the shield absorbs the brunt of the impact.
Quickly regaining your bearings, you crouch even lower behind the metal. Thumbing through the book pages briskly, your eyes skim the ink, trying to find the first spell that can help you now. 
“Inimicus meus, caveto tibi,” you mutter the incantation rapidly, trying your best not to stumble over the archaic words—who knows what sort of havoc that would make. “Transi me et in carcere gelido capieris.”
You peek your head over the shield as you say the last line, locking in on your target. He stands there, panting, worn from his latest, potent attack. Morgie barely has enough time to widen his eyes as the final word escapes your mouth, instantly creating ice stalagmites that burst forth from the ground, crisscrossing as they trap him in a prison of ice. They tower high all around while entrapping him in a circle, frost coating their sleek outsides, which narrow into dangerously sharp tips.
The air turns frigid, and you can see flurries of movement as Morgie thrashes within his glacial cell. Already, he’s trying to break out. Through the cracks between the icicles, you can see a swirling vortex of black magic fighting the freezingly cold charm. Even though it is a strong spell, you know it won’t last for long. Especially not with the dark energy that is slowly, yet surely, thawing out the ice.
Springing up again, you bolt to the shelves on the other side, jumping over small puddles forming on the floor. The book is still open in your hands as you wildly tear through one page after another, the minuscule words shaking and blurring together as you run. Honestly, what kind of asshole decides to print in such a tiny font? you internally rage. Flipping through the large sheets of paper filled with small text reminds you of reading a dictionary. In a way, the spellbook is a dictionary of sorts, with the way every curse is listed alphabetically, in a neat and orderly manner—much unlike your current frenzied state, with how your heart pounds against your chest as if trying to break free, and the adrenaline coursing through your veins cuts off any semblance of a coherent thought forming in your brain.
Twisting sharply to your right, you dart towards the shelf that the Mirror stands on. You stare up at it as you continue to run, eyes practically sending a silent plea while it sits on its throne undisturbed, watching the scenes before it unfold as if viewing a play from the highest seat in the opera house; somehow mildly amused, yet still condescendingly blasé at the same time.
Flipping to the L section of the spellbook, you scan the page for a spell that can help you reach it at last. Finally finish the last stretch of your journey. 
The icicle prison behind you makes a dreadfully loud crack. Your heart only races even faster with a jolt, your breathing coming out only in sharp, erratic gulps that make you feel light-headed, as if you’re not getting enough oxygen no matter how much you gasp for air. 
As you scan the page, this time with a renewed fervor that has your eyes darting across the words, too panicked to even finish a sentence before leaping to the next, you make a very interesting revelation indeed. For whatever reason, the genius who wrote this book decided not to add levitation to the list of spells, but instead included lignum pullelare, which roughly translates to “sprouting a tree”.
Another thunderous boom sounds again from the constantly fracturing icicles, a violent reminder of the ticking clock. You decide that this spell, no matter how absurd, is the best shot you have. Inhaling another sharp breath that burns your lungs, you cry, “Surge, virens gigas, de terra immunda,” your eyes glued to the page. “Ascendunt ad lunam et super caelos!”
A branch smashes into your chest, knocking the wind out of you—you really need to get used to how quickly these spells take effect—lifting you up as a colossal tree ascends from the ground, growing much more rapidly than even a beanstalk, much less a normal tree. The metal shield slips out of your grasp from the impact, your fingers desperately flailing in its direction futile as it falls and hits the floor with a dull thud.  
Your get snapped back to the present from the momentary distraction as your body starts slipping off the branch, with how it's quickly growing into a thick, strong limb with no end in sight. You slide off the ever-stretching wood, scratches cutting into your arms as you frantically try to wrap them around the branch, until only your hands are still hanging on. Using the book, which remains gripped firmly in one hand, you fling it open and cling to each cover. The book's pages spread wide around the wood as you hold on for dear life.
You continue shooting upwards along with the tree, the bookcase racing past you, when a realization hits you like a strike of lightning. This tree won’t stop growing anytime soon, and when it does, you’ll be too high up—if you're still alive, that is.
Glancing above you, you spot the Mirror and the shelf it sits on getting closer, and getting closer fast. Making up your mind, or rather, making a brash decision fueled by your skyrocketing panic, you wait until the shelf you need to reach comes into view. Then, you jump off. 
Flinging yourself towards the bookcase, you manage to latch on to a shelf, fingers wrapping around the ledge while your feet find purchase on another ridge a few feet below. The book remains clutched in one hand, your iron grip refusing to let it go. Realizing you can't do anything while holding it, you risk letting go with one hand. Gripping onto the shelf with your other hand, you tuck the book under your chin, angling your head down as you struggle to hold it between your neck and body. 
You peer up at your grasp on the shelf, the unforgiving ridges digging into your skin, carving painful lines into your fingers. Your feet barely remain balanced, the ledge not jutting out as far as you’d like it to. Turning your heels in to stay on the little shelf space there is in front of the books, you wince as the ridges between your arms and legs bite into your body. The sweat coating your palms causes your grip to start slipping off, your eyes wide in sheer terror as you let go for a brief second, thrusting your hands further back and hooking onto the edge again.
Glimpsing back down, you see the Mirror resting in its glass cage a few shelves below you, the strange white mist slithering underneath the glass and pouring out over the bookcase like a waterfall. With your chin still uncomfortably positioned as to not lose the book, you release on hand and leg from the shelf, leaving you hanging in between life and death itself.
You move your free hand down one ledge below, then the corresponding foot, haltingly scaling your way down the bookcase. Each time precariously letting go of your grip or footing to blindly feel below yourself for another ledge to stay on. After a few iterations, your feet finally stand on the same shelf as the Mirror, right next to the glass case.
Another piercing boom echoes behind you, making you squeeze your eyes shut as you flinch against the bookcase, quivering breaths sending your heartbeat shooting through the roof. Your eyes dart down to the book you squeeze with your neck, then to where your hands are barely clinging on to the shelf. There’s no chance of using the book to make the glass disappear again. Cursing yourself for not memorizing the incantation earlier, your mind swarms with thoughts, each one so loud they drown out each other.
An idea forms in your head—or rather, slams itself into the sides of your brain like a wave crashing in a bottle while it screams for attention—as you warily lift one foot on top of the heel of the other shoe, maneuvering it off your foot.
Now with only a sock left, you press your toes against the glass container. Inhaling a sharp breath, causing your lungs to ache as they scream for more, you muster enough energy to summon a bolt of lightning, focusing all your attention on passing electrical current through your body and to your foot.
The hotness of the electricity heats up the glass, melting it until there’s a decent-sized hole the size of your foot there. Shuffling to the side and raising your shoeless foot to the ledge above, you draw back your other leg and smash it into the glass, causing the compromised structure to shatter everywhere.
Climbing down the bookcase farther, you come face-to-face with the Mirror of Yteriv at last. It looks exactly like it was depicted in that textbook, sporting an elegant silver frame and seemingly shattered surface, with the two rubies staring at you like glowing eyes. 
A loud explosion rings behind you, resounding throughout the entire library. You snatch the Mirror with one hand, turning your head to the side as far as you can without letting the book slip, just in time to see Morgie demolish the ice prison as he breaks free.
It's clear that since now he's no longer bound by frozen spikes of ice, you’re his next target. Taking in an abrupt gasp of air—the only preparation you have—you let go of the shelf.
You plummet towards the ground for only a second before creating small thunderbolts beneath each of your feet, suspending you in midair. Already, you can see Morgie charging up another attack, aiming it straight at you. Book in one hand, Mirror in the other, you take off into a run through the air. Small platforms of electricity form beneath your feet with every step, dissipating again as soon as your foot lifts.
Balls of dark magic hurl towards you, and you already know you have no chance of winning this fight—not like this. But you don’t need to win. Glancing down at the Mirror clutched in your palm as you jump off a thunderbolt, right as it gets blasted by a black orb, you realize that you’ve already completed your mission. Now, all that’s left is to get out of here.
Your mind scrambles for a way out that doesn’t involve getting blasted into smithereens, eyes still fixed on the Mirror as you continue to dash around in midair. Watching the wispy tendrils of white smoke pour out of the artifact, a previous memory from something you read in a book hits you like a flash.
As the Mirror of Ytirev connects to its wielder’s soul, so do its properties, the book had said. The mist emitted by the Mirror fluctuates with the wielder’s emotions; the more powerfully one feels their emotions, negative ones in particular, the more smoke it produces.
A room filled with smoke? You can’t think of a more perfect cover to help you escape.
Grip tightening even further around the Mirror as you leap to another lightning platform, dodging a new attack, you rack your brain for every negative emotion you have—which turns out to be a lot. The adrenaline pumping through your veins as your life flashes before your very eyes from every near-death experience. The way your heart shatters a little more every time your father overlooks your accomplishments, not paying any mind to how hard you strive to please him. Just to get a single smile, a pat on the back, a meager look of pride in your direction. One simple “That’s my daughter!” sent your way.
The anger deep inside you starts to bubble, pure rage sizzling and growing hotter every second you spend lost in your emotions. A fury that is always there, making every breath a little shorter, every happy moment a little duller. A dormant feeling that is usually left undisturbed, except for when it's triggered. Then it becomes a fire that burns hotter than any flame in the depths of hell.
The emotions and thoughts and memories that you keep suppressed in a corner of your heart all coming flooding out, like a dam finally bursting free. How could everyone strand you like that? Leave you all alone to suffer through your grief, while always expecting you to be kind and cheerful. They know what happened, and they have to know how badly it hurts. Yet not a single one cares. Not your dad, not your teachers, not your friends. No one in the entire world ever so much as offered a shoulder for you to cry on or gave you a comforting smile. Not one “I’m here for you” or “It’s all right, take your time.” No, all they did was raise their expectations, setting the bar so high until you’re barely clinging to it, trying to pull yourself up despite your weary arms. Lifting it to such heights that losing your grip and falling would mean certain death.
You think of the snarling, twisted animal that resides deep inside you, embedded into your very being, clawing at the aching hole in your heart left by the absence of your mother. Finally letting it break free after being caged for so long, you feel, oh-so agonizingly, how it scratches its way up your throat and escapes you in a wretched sob.
Why did she leave me? How could she leave me? I’m her daughter, for fuck’s sake. Who can abandon their child like that? Does she not care about me? 
Did she ever even love me?
Painful thoughts consume your head as a few stray tears run down your cheek. You grit your teeth, sucking in shaky gasps of breaths. Smothered by your anguish, submerged in emotion.
Yet, despite all this, it works. Remembering the entire point of your self-inflicted despair, your head snaps down to the Mirror. Although your legs burn and throb from all the incessant running, you can’t stop. At least not yet.
Thick fog exudes from the Mirror, rapidly engulfing the whole of the arena. Within a few moments, everything is covered in the dense whiteness, so heavy you can barely see your hand, even if you hold it directly in front of your face.
Morgie disappears in the fog as well, to the point where you can no longer see nor hear him. Assuming that he’s no longer a threat for now—if you can’t see him, he can’t see you, and if he can’t see you, he can’t attack you—you summon a staircase of thunderbolts and walk down it until you safely step onto solid ground.
Your legs practically give way at the first touch of hard floor, the urge to collapse and lie on the ground excruciatingly strong. Mustering up the last of your strength and willpower, you force your feet to step one after another, desperately trying to distract yourself from the fire burning in your muscles at even the strain of supporting your own weight. 
Almost done. Almost.
Practically rendered blind by the all-encompassing mist, you keep one hand outstretched, making sure you won’t collide with anything—especially Morgie. Pocketing the Mirror, you continue through the fog. You had made sure to note your direction in relation to the exit before everything became completely invisible as to help you easily find your way out without getting lost. But after a few minutes in the overwhelming whiteness, you start to doubt yourself. 
What’s even worse is that there’s no sign of Morgie. You’re not foolish enough to expect him to pop up right in front of you, but you don’t hear him making any sounds either. No footsteps, no breathing, nothing. Your strides are far more muffled as you take your other shoe off too, annoyed at the limping effect the difference in heights causes. But nothing from him.
Your mind starts wandering to what happened to him, refusing to admit that the smallest part of you feels the tiniest bit concerned. Does he need help? Is he still alive? Your intentions were to steal the Mirror and disarm him, not kill him. You’re not evil enough for that.
Not yet, anyway.
After stumbling through the murky fog for a bit longer, you start to notice that now, you can see your hand extended in front of you. The fog is thinning, you think, which means I must be nearing the edge of this area and heading towards the bookcases.
A little bit further, and the fog disperses to all but a thin mist. The bookshelves in front of you come into view, the rows and rows of them finally visible as they expand into the distance. Follow those, and you’ll find the door you came in through. 
So, so close…
You take a few more steps, the heavy spellbook still in hand as you reach into your pocket with an unusual, yet profound, sense of paranoia, ensuring the Mirror is still there. Out of nowhere, you feel a strange sort of chill cover your feet. You chalk it up to your lack of shoes, but, not being able to resist the urge, you glance down.
That’s when you see strange feathery tendrils of black smoke on the floor, in stark contrast to the thin mist that hangs in the air. They slither and wrap around your feet as they move, condensing together in front of you and rising up a meter off the ground in the shape of a hissing black cobra.
The cobra flares out its hood whilst flicking its tongue at you, swaying side to side as it stretches to its full height. You stumble backwards, hesitating for only a second too long before it dawns on you where the snake came from.
Behind you, a brooding voice sounds. “Going somewhere?” Morgie asks.
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You spin around sharply, dismay and a special breed of horror painted on your face as you turn to face him. “I don’t care what you do, the Mirror is mine,” you growl, shooting him a lethal glare that truly could kill.
“I don’t think so.” He gathers more black magic around his palm, creating an orb that whirls around like a dark, spherical tornado. You both stare into each other’s eyes for a moment, a fracture in time, trying to decide your next move—when he suddenly throws his hand forward.
You flinch away, yanking the book in front of your face as a shield. After a second, when you don’t feel anything, you open your eyes, turning back in his direction in confusion.
And that’s when you see that you weren't the target of his attack.
The book in front of you was.
The dark magic gnaws at it from the back cover, where it hit on impact, eating away at the pages. “No!” you scream, desperately flipping through the paper as the magic destroys it. Your own magic may be quite strong, but since you're barely allowed to practice it, it’s nowhere near the son of Morgana’s abilities or prowess. This book was your only chance at defeating him.
Frantically rifling through the pages, a look of pure horror on your face, you try to scan the spells for something to save you. Teleportation is soon gone, as well as fireball. As soon as you catch a glimpse of a spell name that could be helpful, the incantation is instantly obliterated.
Panic building faster than even the speed of the dark magic, you flip to the front of the book, trying to find a spell at the beginning of the alphabet so you have enough time to actually read the incantation.
But apple is of no use, and neither is bridge. Morgie stands there, gaze transfixed on your struggling form, wickedly smiling with an amused raise of his eyebrows. Guess he really is a villain after all.
The black energy eroding the book spreads across both covers, demolishing the tome as you hold it in your feverishly trembling hands. Your eyes race across the letters, desperate to find one that could even have a chance at saving you.
Dragon, no.
Claws, not that.
Chasm, not that either.
None of these will help me! your internal voice screeches, the book dissipating as you hold it. Then, your eyes snag along a word.
Chains. The perfect spell. 
“Ut qui inritat, catenas sentiat iras,” you wildly spit out, heart racing, tongue unable to move fast enough. Your eyes dart frenziedly ahead of your mouth, running on sheer panic as you try to memorize the words in case the book does disappear. “Pati in compedibus, ut solvas pretium peccatorum tuorum,” you continue to cry out.
As the last fibers of the pages evaporate in black fumes, you thrust a hand in Morgie’s direction, yelling the last few words. “Eris enim sine fuga ligatus!”
Nothing.
Then, boom.
The residual magic from the demolished book, no longer contained in a physical form, explodes, the force sending you flying backwards. You soar for a couple feet before colliding with a shelf behind you, your head slamming against a sharp edge.
You crumple to the floor, body bruised, beaten, and bloody. The world spins, your head throbs, and you feel so generally shitty that you want to crawl out of your body and leave this physical hindrance behind.
Your head feels too heavy to lift up, and so it falls forward, swaying back and forth. A warm sensation on the back of your skull draws your senses back to the present, and you lift one weary hand to the spot. Bringing it back down in front of your face, you see a whole lot of red smothered on it, just as more trickles down onto the base of your head and neck.
Groaning, you lift your face to scan your surroundings as the dust settles yet again. The fog is now almost completely gone, allowing you to see rather clearly. Sight still blurry, you barely make out the figure a few meters in front of you as heavy chains whip up from the floor, wrapping around his arms.
More spring up around his legs, dragging him down and causing his knees to buckle. He fights against the metal, but they only tighten as even more encircle his torso, tethering him to the ground. He leans forwards, now kneeling before you, arms spread out and chained to the floor on either side.
In front of him, halfway between you two, lies the Mirror of Yteriv, face-up on the floor.
Scrambling to get up, you slowly manage to stand, leaning your weight on the bookcase behind you. The ground sways underneath your feet, but you don’t collapse. One shaky step after another, you make your way over to the mirror.
You practically crumple to the floor as you lean down to snatch it up, the sounds of chains rattling against each other echoing through your head as their prisoner resists his bonds.
You straighten again, running your fingers over every millimeter of the Mirror’s surface to ensure that the cracks reflected on it are only part of its usual appearance and not actual damage caused during the explosion. Once you're sure of its safety, you look down at the figure shackled in front of you.
Morgie looks up at you, hair disheveled and face bruised, a few drops of blood spattered on his cheek. His eyes are a storm of anguish and a wounded kind of sorrow, his jaw clenched tight. You’d like to think that he isn’t peering up at you, body tied and bound, with resentment etched into his features, but you know you’d be lying to yourself.
He gives another violent tug against the chains, but to no avail. Neither of you speak a word, remaining in complete silence, yet somehow saying a thousand things through your eyes. You stare down at him, at the way he can barely lift his head due to his restraints, the agony swirling in his eyes tugging at your heartstrings in ways that make you ache through your core. 
But you’ve already come this far. You can’t turn back now.
The deafening silence remains as you raise the Mirror up in front of yourself, the white mist wrapping around you as if beckoning you closer. The red eyes glow even brighter, their judgment intensifying as your reflection begins to appear in the glass. The cracks on the surface slowly fade away as you come into view, until finally revealing a completely smooth and unmarred image as you gaze into your own eyes.
Except they aren’t yours.
Your reflection in the mirror is not of yourself, but of a younger version of you. She smiles effulgently, a pure, innocent sparkle of wonder in her eyes. A look of untainted bliss painted on her face as she beams. 
A look you haven’t seen in your own reflection for a long time.
“Mommy?” her young, high-pitched voice calls out. “Mommy? Moooommy? Where are you?”
A sob gets caught in your throat as you gasp, tears framing your vision. As if the memory finally gets uncovered in your mind, after being hidden away all these years from your brain deeming it too painful, you realize when this is—or rather, what this is.
“Mommy?” she calls again, her smile faltering as her little brow furrows in confusion, her face scrunching ever so slightly. “Mommy?” She turns her head to the side, looking at something out of view before asking, “Daddy, where’s Mommy?”
Your chest heaves as a sharp cry escapes you, the pain taking a physical form in the tears streaking your cheeks, your face contorting as you weep. In the background, a man’s faint, shaky sobs sound.
The mirror slips from your fingers, landing on the ground with an echoing thud. You whimper, uncontrollably trembling breaths causing your chest to jolt back and forth. You don’t move, can’t move, empty hand still suspended in midair.
You feel numb, yet like you're experiencing every emotion all at once. Your brain can’t wrap around this, around any of this, can’t comprehend your own thoughts. Can’t process what you feel. You’ve shoved your emotion down for so long, that now that they’re no longer bottled up, you don’t know how to deal with them.
“I’m sorry.” The voice cuts through the thick silence, snapping you out of the raging war inside your head.
You glance over at Morgie, still wrapped in chains. His eyes no longer hold the same animosity and misery, but instead a soft sort of sympathy, an underlying look of understanding as he peers up at you, head slightly raised.
“I don’t want your pity,” you sniff indignantly.
“I’m not pitying you.”
You look down at him, your chest heaving, eyes bloodshot. Taking shaky gasps of breath through your mouth, your body quivers as you wait for him to continue.
“I didn’t know about your mom, and you’re totally justified for wanting to know what happened to her,” Morgie continues. “You can take that Mirror and walk out of here if you want.” You keep on staring at him, not saying anything, frozen with anticipation as he carries on. “But are you really going to risk your future for knowledge of the past?”
You gulp before responding, voice hoarse and eyes half-lidded, voice cold and numb. “Would you still hesitate to take that risk, even when it means it could make your future finally be one worth living?”
“Your future is already one worth living,” Morgie replies. “You may not see it, but you’re talented, and smart, and pretty, and you’re a good person. You have a bright future ahead of you.” He shakes his head, eyes still boring into you. “Don’t ruin it like this. Blinded by your pain.”
Sniffling, you inhale a shuddering breath. “And how do you know my pain is blinding me, and not making me see clearer? Clearer than I have in my entire life. Clearer than she did.” You jut your chin towards the mirror lying on the floor.
“I don’t. But what I do know, from seeing my own mother, is that pain like this gets you nowhere. Letting the people who were supposed to love you instead turn you bitter and cynical never fixes things. You may think that becoming evil is the solution, but it’s not. It’s not worth it. You’re not worth it.”
You stare at him intensely, a raw kind of pain displayed on your face, one that no one has ever seen before. A thousand emotions flicker through your eyes, your lips twisting into a whimpering attempt at a smile as you cry again, the sob wracking through your body. “You really think so?”
“I know so.”
Hope flashes in your eyes, reflected in his. Your gaze softens, looking at him as if he’s the beacon of light at the end of the tunnel. A small grin breaks his steady demeanor, looking at you with optimism shining through the glimmer in his eyes.
You reach down, picking up the Mirror again. You stare at it, although not directly at your reflection this time. He peers up at you, still shackled to the floor, eyes wide with anticipation.
You slip the Mirror into the pocket of your cloak once again before turning around, your back to him. Twisting your head to the side so he hears you, you say, “The chains will disappear in an hour.”
Turning your head back, you walk away and leave him behind, black cape flickering in the dark night.
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Unclasping the back, you slip off the locket, placing it in front of you. The rusty metal is reflected in the mirror in front of it, along with the tears that splatter on its surface.
It had belonged to your mother, the only thing you had left of her. She had given it to you when you were a little kid, not too long before she left. It was old and weathered, the silver having tarnished over time. Still, you religiously wore it every single day, never taking it off as if it's a part of your body. And sometimes, if you stare at it hard enough, you can almost trick yourself into believing she's still there.
Safely back in your dorm, all alone, you had set the Mirror down, flipping to the notebook page where you had transcribed the incantations for the ritual, without a second thought.
Now, sitting on the ground, the Mirror leaning against a leg of your desk with your locket as an offering in front of it, you start to hesitate. Your face twists in pure agony, features scrunched up, lips quivering uncontrollably as a waterfall of tears splatter onto your hands and lap.
It’s too late to turn back now.
Taking another shaky breath, you extend your hands forward to the Mirror, placing one thumb on each red gemstone embedded in the intricate silver design. The jewels watch you, scorning your every action. Just like everyone else.
Your eyes flutter closed, letting out the steadiest exhale you’ve had all night. “Speculum, speculum, in conspectu oculorum meorum,” you whisper, feeling the way the rubies press into the flesh of your thumbs. Already, the Mirror starts discharging more fog, enveloping you as it grows denser with each syllable. “Accipe donum meum et veritas libera me.”
You open your eyes as the last words leave your tongue, staring straight into the eyes of your own reflection.
The red gems glow radiantly, emitting a bright light that nearly blinds you. You squint, yet still unrelentingly stare into your eyes—or rather, your younger self's eyes. The fog swirls around you, swallowing you whole. You can’t see anything anymore, can’t even tell where you are. You feel as though your soul, your life’s very essence, gets sucked out of your body and into the Mirror.
You have the sensation of being shoved forward, but you don’t fall. In fact, you don't have a body anymore, no physical vessel to hold you. You try to look down, but you're greeted by the absence of your legs, sheer nothingness filling the space beneath you. You can’t really move around either, not in the way you’re used to. All you can do is simply float, your existence diminished to an untethered life force, with some semblance of what you once were.
Looking around, everything around you is white like before, but not in the suffocating way the fog was. Instead, you stand in a wide expanse of whiteness, a vast field of empty space. It stretches on forever, with no end in sight. It’s as if you’re stuck in a blank canvas, waiting for a painter to bring you to life.
The sound of wind whistles all around you, but not so much as a breeze actually comes. In fact, everything is completely unmoving. Despite the stifling stillness, you remain listening to the sound of the wind. If you strain hard enough, you can hear something almost like faint whispers filling your senses.
You look around again, ignoring the eerie voices. According to all the texts you read, after the Mirror accepts the wielder’s offering, they can ask for their answer. You’re not quite sure if this field of emptiness means your offering’s been accepted, but seeing as how you don’t feel insane yet, you think it’s safe to presume so. Still, your brain can’t help but point out that crazy people probably don’t feel like they’re crazy either.
Shaking off your doubts, you decide to continue with the process. After all, it is the only shot you have. You had memorized all the incantations for this particular spell earlier, repeating them over and over again until every word was engraved into your mind.
“Scire volo verum,” you recite. “I wish to know a truth.” Nothing happens.
You take a deep breath. “I wish to know why my mom left.”
The wind around you grows louder, howling even in the still air. The whispers increase in volume, once seemingly non-threatening and benign, now forming a cacophony of overlapping, chaotic voices. They grow distorted and grating, pushing in from every side, wrapping around you and slithering into your brain. You can’t block them out, no matter how hard you try; can’t swat them away, can’t make them leave, leaving you trying to tear them out of your head, despite not having hands anymore.
Suddenly, the white vastness turns a dark gray, and you start getting pulled downward towards something, like moving towards the center of a black hole. The whispers grow claws and fangs, clawing and scratching at your chest as they drag you down, making it hard for you to breathe. 
You try to fight back, but the voices now in your head keep pulling you down. They’ve taken over you, consuming you whole, and it’s impossible not to succumb to their will.
As they continue to drag you down into the abyss, you turn around—or rather, focus on the other side of your vague form of spiritual energy—and notice a tiny black dot very far down, but steadily growing bigger as you move towards it.
The whispers are screaming now, cries of agony of those who came before you, encompassing you whole and forcing you to the depths of this dark chasm.
And that’s when it hits you.
The others who used the Mirror did all end up getting the truths they sought.
And the truth was what drove them to madness.
You panic, trying to shake off the invisible hands of the whisperers, but they only tighten their hold around you. No matter how hard you fight them, they don’t relent in their endeavor of pulling you towards damnation.
“Are you really going to risk your future for knowledge of the past?” Morgie’s words echo in your head out of nowhere, haunting you with regret. You absolutely despise admitting it, but fuck, he was right.
Your last conversation with him replays in your mind, reminding you of your foolishness and idiocy. You had been so focused on getting what you wanted that you were indeed blinded to the truth that had been right in front of you this whole time.
“Your future is one worth living.”
His voice swirls around in your brain, drawing your attention away a little from the screaming voices in your head.
“You’re talented, and smart, and pretty, and you’re a good person.”
You realize these are probably the last words you’ll ever hear.
“You have a bright future ahead of you.”
You feel like crying again, the despair that’s taken root in you fighting to escape. Still, you don’t have an actual body in this dreamscape, so crying is impossible.
“It’s not worth it. You’re not worth it.”
You look back up the other direction and away from the black dot, resigned to your fate as you get dragged down into the chasm, deeper, deeper, deeper. At first, you think you’re imagining it; a mirage created by your mind to distract you from your pain. But as the descent continues, you begin to realize that it may not be an illusion after all.
In front of you, from the direction you came, a faint golden thread, seemingly made of pure light, stretches from your form of consciousness and ascends, up, up, up, all the way to the never-ending sky. With each of Morgie’s words you repeat in your head, the string of light grows stronger, brighter.
“You’re talented.”
The thread becomes thicker and more luminous, and you begin to realize that your descent has slowed down as well.
“And smart.”
The thread grows again, and you slow down a little more.
“And pretty.”
Your eyes follow the string upwards, and now, you see there’s a faint patch of white amidst the murky gray surrounding you.
“You’re a good person.”
The thread, still shooting out straight from your form, gleams with a shimmering golden light now. You notice that you’re no longer getting dragged downwards, but instead up, towards the whiteness. The screaming voices aren’t as insufferably loud anymore, either.
“You have a bright future ahead of you.”
You keep ascending, getting drawn faster and faster up. Morgie’s words serve as your lifeline, saving you from insanity.
“You’re not worth it.”
Now, you see that the white patch is actually an opening, an escape from this hell. The thread leads to it, its blinding brightness concealing whatever lies beyond.
“I know so.”
The last of his words give you the final push you need, sending you straight into the white light.
Your head snaps up with a sharp, terrified exhale. You look down, taking a moment to register that you’re back in your room. The locket dangles from one of your hands, the Mirror clutched in the other.
Fresh tears replacing the dried ones on your cheeks as you let out a sob of excruciating heartache, a sound of pure agony. The kind that no one should have to go through.
You look down at the cracked surface of the Mirror—a feeling of raw, unbridled anger set in the way you clench your jaw, and the way your face contorts with your cries—staring straight at the evil red eyes still gleaming at you.
With a swift motion, you lift your hand above your head, still grasping tight. Mustering together all your might, you hurl the Mirror towards the ground, watching as it shatters into a sea of glittering pieces.
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“You’re late.”
You lean against the rough brick wall of an empty corridor, arms crossed, your figure partially obscured in shadows.
“And I’m surprised you’re still here,” Morgie quips, walking towards you. “Why’d you even want to talk with me? Especially through leaving that threatening note next to my nightstand for me to find when I woke up.”
He stops in front of you, leaving you to glower at him. Suddenly, with no warning, you lunge towards him, seizing the collar of his shirt and pushing him against the wall, your other hand summoning a rod of crackling lightning. 
His eyes widen with a startled gaze, but he doesn’t look quite as fearful as you want him to be. “Now, listen here.” You press the tip of the lightning bolt against his neck. “If you say a word of what happened last night to anyone—especially my father—I will kill you.”
Although you try to sound as menacing as possible, Morgie is unfazed. An amused smirk spreads across his face as he replies, “Alright, relax. I wasn’t planning on telling anyone anyways.”
His eyes trail down from your gaze to the locket dangling from your neck. He reaches out a hand, brushing his thumb along the tarnished metal as he softly says, “You didn’t go through with it, huh?”
You pull away, frustrated at his compassionate tone. “No. I decided…it was too risky. After all, what’s the point of figuring out the past if I can’t ever use that information, right?” A small smile spreads across Morgie’s face, that sympathetic, delicate look in his eyes again. Your irritation rising at this, you add, with a growl, “Although I will find a way to get my answer. I don’t care how bad I have to become, if you, or my father, or anyone stands in my way, you’ll truly see how evil I can be!”
Morgie keeps his unfettered appearance up. God, he’s so annoying! you mentally scream in frustration.
“Why are you so fixed on this?” he asks, tilting his head sideways and furrowing his brow as if trying to look past your cold, vengeful, rancorous mask and figure out the scarred little girl buried underneath.
You roll your eyes instead of answering. Never one to express emotions, the thought of opening up now about your years of pain feels terrifyingly vulnerable. It’s so much easier to just build walls around your heart and shut everyone out.
“Tell me this, and I promise I won’t tell a word of what happened last night to anyone,” Morgie bargains.
You narrow your eyes. “You already said you wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“Well, now I’m having second thoughts.”
You raise your arm again to summon another bolt of electricity, and Morgie lifts his hands, palms facing forward, in a gesture of surrender. “Relax, I won’t say anything, fine. But I just want you to talk to me. Bottling up your emotions like this isn’t healthy. Last night should be a good example of that.”
You shoot another glare at him, but can’t deny the fact that he’s right. Still, you hate the idea of how exposed and weak you'd be if you actually told someone how you feel.
“I’m not going to leave you, you know.”
You peer up at him, eyes wide in shock, as he continues. “I’ll stay by your side. You don’t have to worry about me abandoning you.”
Gulping, you nod, averting his gaze. Instead, you choose to look down at your shoes, studying the laces as you speak. “I…when my mom left, it was so sudden. No goodbyes, nothing. It was like one day, she just vanished.”
Your voice cracks, and Morgie places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, unknowingly pulling you closer to him. You swallow, hesitating for a moment before continuing. “My dad didn’t even care. It was as if she never existed. And everyone else…they all knew what happened. But they paid no attention whatsoever. They expected me to act normal, be all nice and sweet as if nothing changed. It made me hate them, hate all of them.”
“Do you hate me?”  
Morgie’s voice rings in the empty corridor, quiet yet speaking louder than a thousand shouts. You look up at him again, his image slightly blurred by the tears welling at the bottom of your eyes. You look up and you see the boy that stood by your side at your worst, who didn’t get scared or run away when you showed him your true colors.
The boy who said things no one’s ever said to you, whose words saved you from destroying yourself.
The boy who stands here, a concerned crinkle on his forehead as he awaits your answer. He doesn’t have to be here, listening to your problems. He doesn’t have to care.
But he does.
“No,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “No, I don’t hate you.”
In the suffocating sea of fake smiles and stifling pressures, Morgie is like a breath of fresh air. The first gulp of oxygen that you take as your head breaks free from the water.
“That’s a relief,” he responds, a trace of a smirk ghosting his features.
You give a small, bittersweet laugh. “Ever since my mom left and my dad stopped caring about me, I’ve never had anyone to talk to. No one seems to care about my emotions, or ask me how I’m doing. It’s as if I’m not a real person who has actual feelings.”
You’re on the verge of tears again, and Morgie must realize this, because he tries to lighten the mood by attempting—and failing—to inconspicuously wrap an arm around your shoulder as he says, “So, what I’m hearing from all this, is that you need a strong, reliable figure in your life to lean on, right? Like…a boyfriend or something?”
You duck under his arm, moving a good few feet away from him while fixing him with another glare. “Yeah no, I’m good.”
“Come on, that was smooth! You’ve got to admit it,” he whines, drawing out a small giggle from you. 
It’s been a long time since you’ve laughed like this: a true, heartfelt laugh, not the fake one that you do to appease other people under the pressure of society's expectations. It feels nice, like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. 
All because of him.
“I don’t know, maybe I'll consider it with some time, if you treat me well,” you joke as you turn your head away with faux indifference. 
“Hey, a slim chance is better than no chance at all, right?” Morgie moves closer to you again, as if he can’t stand having so much space between the two of you. “I can see I’ve made some progress since last night, when you tried to kill me.”
“I wasn’t trying to kill you,” you shoot back, rolling your eyes at him.
“Oh yeah? Tell that to the bruises on my body.”
“It’s not my fault you’re so weak and sensitive,” you retort with a grin.
He nudges you playfully and you laugh again, shaking your head with an amused look. “Hey, I was wondering,” he asks, locking eyes with you, “what did you end up doing with the Mirror?”
You give a knowing grin, masking the undercurrent of what’s left unsaid. You vaguely respond, “It’s in a better place now.”
“If you say so,” Morgie replies, his smile returning to his face and lighting up his features once again. He continues to tease you, and you oblige him, keeping up the friendly banter as he walks you to class.
The Enchanted Lake glistens, reflecting the sun’s gentle rays with a bright shimmer. Deep down, under feet of clear blue water and various forms of aquatic life, in a far corner of the lake, lies a bag of glass shards. Next to it floats an ornate metal carving with a hollow center, reminiscent of something once set there. And at the top, two glowing red gemstones briefly flicker and die out, like watchful eyes finally closing.
end x
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w4w4lycsss · 2 months
Text
CLUMSY WIZARD | MORGIE LE FAY
summary: Morgie lets you use him as a test dummy for your new inventions or spells pairing: Morgie Le Fay x male!wizard!reader a/n: It's no secret to anyone that I'm obsessed with Hook, but I'm very offended that Morgie doesn't have fanfics! It's an experiment, if you like this kind of content I will upload more things
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Your greatest desire since you were a child had always been to be a recognized and talented wizard, when you entered Merlin Academy you were sure of yourself that things would turn out well. You were positive and had your eyes in front of you when it was necessary to face a problem with your magic. You liked the idea of sitting in the schoolyard with your book on your lap and memorizing as many spells as possible to be the best.
During one of your boring personal classes on 'how to undo a crush' one of the VKs caught your attention; Morgie Le Fay. There was something about him that made you laugh and have a good time when you watched him crack jokes with Hook and Maleficent.
You didn't expect him to come up to you so suddenly one random day to ask what you were reading about as if you had known each other all your life, which took you by surprise. Somehow you got out of your bubble and started talking to him about the basic spells you were trying to memorize, and he offered to help you just because 'he was bored.'
From there a bond of friendship was formed that gradually grew in trust and affection to the point that the two of you seemed like a couple. He liked to lay his head on your shoulder, take your arm when you walked together or give you small gifts from time to time, he had even made a scene of jealousy when he saw that someone was harassing you.
Right now Morgie was in your laboratory (room) sitting in a chair with his hands tied with a rope and a strange apparatus on his head, but he was calm. Too quiet. Accustomed. It had reached a point where it was so common for him to have to carry strange objects on him in order to be with you that he had already gotten used to it, he only had to wait for you to finish to go out and make mischief with his friends.
"My dear, what am I supposed to have in my head now?" He frowned in confusion and followed youwith his eyes as you walked from place to place with a book in your hand.
"A lie detector! Or well, the prototype."
"And why do my hands tied?"
"The last time I put one of my machines on you, you took it off halfway through." You frowned and pouted angrily.
"It was scary."
You ignored his words and left the book on the table. You folded your arms, looking at him as you thought. "I already got it!"
You approached him, releasing the safety that surrounded his neck and removing the non-machine from his head, leaving it on the ground and releasing his hands. You excitedly approached him and gave him an affectionate kiss on the cheek, quickly turning to your desk to jot down your new idea in your book.
Morgie froze, analyzing the situation and eventually smiling broadly as he processed what had just happened, putting his hand on the side of the kiss you gave him. It took him several seconds to stand up and go to your side, sitting on the table where you were standing.
"Do you remember you told me that when you saw me out of the corner of your eye for the first time you were reading 'how to undo a crush'?" He tilted his head towards you, although you did not notice it because he was immersed in your writings.
You let out a sound of affirmation. "I never had the opportunity to use it with practically anything."
"You can use it with me."
You lowered your pen and slowly raised your head at what he had just said. You slowly frowned in confusion, causing him to smile proudly.
"What do you mean?"
"What do you believe?" He smiled even more, getting off the table and coming closer to you. "I'm in love with you. Actually, I like to be."
The sudden way in which he confessed it to you did not give you time to react, when you least expected it he had already placed his hand on your cheek and approached to give you a shy kiss on the lips, waiting for an answer. When the two of you parted your lips you let out a long nervous laugh, tripping over your feet and almost spilling scientific and magical liquids from your lab/room.
Morgie laughed as you said so many inconsistencies in a row when some were not even words. The two of you clasped your hands and looked at each other with longing and love as the laughter of both of you ceased.
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