#flaming flamingo bashing

[descendantsramblings]

I wish to request a Morgie x Male Reader story (*"another one" meme starts playing*)

reader is Bridget's and Ella's bestie and into Morgie, he Planned on asking morgie out for castlecoming but then the whole Flamingo feather accident happend and instead of asking he just starts giving Morgie magic letters from a secret admirer and Morgie is just a confused mess about it

Either reader cowards out of actually asking before castlecoming or he asks him out last minute with morgie maybe being not that interested (due to having a reputation as a villain)

So... Hurt/Angst maybe?

<Lukas>

One fix without him now I’m back on the Morgie Grind (that sounds awful, oh well)

I sorta went Awal and made it where Morgie does like them back and has to pretend he doesn't (more fun for me, sorry if you hate that). Also, in my head his magic works like The Cat King's from Dead Boy Detectives where it comes with puffs of purple flames because that's so very fun for me (I love TCK). Morgie's perspective instead of the reader's lets go snake boy!

Love Letters

Morgie le Fay x Prince! Reader

Pronouns Used: he/him/his

Summary: He was growing a touch too accustom to the silver envelopes that popped up when he needed them.

Warnings: Morgie assumes the reader is a girl at first, that's really about it

Word Count: 1.6K

    He’d grown used to the purple flames that appeared in tufts around him. The likes of them disappearing as quickly as they’d come, leaving nothing but a silver envelope fluttering in their wake. The first time it happened, the boy thought he himself was on fire, though realized soon enough that there was nothing to cause the flames. An envelope’s first appearance was met with nervous hands, the boy making Hook open it for him instead. Watching the golden metal attached to his friend tear through that pristine silver envelope made his breath catch in his throat. The boy turning pink as the pirate read the letter out loud, in an animated voice with theatrical moves to match. He always thought having a secret admirer was kinda creepy, until he had his own. Now, four letters later he was absolutely giddy about them.

   At one point, due to the flames, he feared they might have been from Maleficent, cornering her in a nervous way as he asked about it. When she laughed at him, he felt almost relieved. Not that he didn’t adore his friend, but the implications of something like that was far too much for him. Now though, four pages deep, he felt like he was going crazy. He had no way to learn anything about them, no way to ask anything back. It’s not like he could catch them sliding the notes into his locker or under his door. They were magic, letters that popped up by mere will as they saw fit. It was as infuriating as it was exciting. Morgie couldn’t stand the not knowing, the wondering had him tearing at his hair. No one had ever spoken to him the way the author of the letters did. He couldn’t recall the last time he felt like someone saw him as something to be adored. Of course, he was sure if they knew him, like genuinely knew him, there was no way they’d feel that way anymore. No one else did, surely this stranger was no exception. 

    It was like Hades could read his mind, the boy lightly shoving his shoulder in their “Witchcraft and the Occult” class, talking to him more than whispering as he should have. “So, snake eyes, you get anymore of those cute little love letters?” He bites his lip, looking down at his long forgotten worksheet with a bashful blush. “Not since Monday, and it’s weird because I’m missing someone I don’t even know. I just feel like I’m going crazy. It’s like I’m at her will, whoever it is. I just want to know who she is, or at least something about her. I want to be able to find the author. It’s exhausting not knowing.” The god beside him shakes his head, twirling a blue pen between his long fingers, “What if it’s a princess or something. That would be so lame.” He weighs the thought, would it be lame? He wasn’t sure he wanted it to be a princess, or a her at all. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to say that out loud though, so he simply shrugs, lifting his pencil again. “I guess so, I just. It would be nice to know is all.” 

                      ✰ ✰ ✰✰ ✰ ✰✰ ✰ ✰✰ ✰ ✰

    He’s laying in his bed, tossing a stress ball in the air above him the next time he sees a bright purple flame. The ball knocking the silver paper to the side slightly before it falls, landing on his stomach with a slightly crinkled edge. He tosses the little ball beside him, reaching down to retrieve the letter. It’s got another little red heart keeping it closed, standing out on the metallic paper in a way that immediately catches the eye. That same purple stationary waits inside, perfect curly handwriting standing out in thick black ink. His eyes eat at it like they’re starved,  drinking in the written attention. 

    “You know, maybe you’re feeling so crazy because you’re looking for a girl. I didn’t think I was that giddy, do I really come off as a girl? And so yeah, maybe a princess is lame, but you’re looking for a prince. I mean, surely you’d still find me lame if you knew who I was, but if you’re in search of me, I may as well set you out to looking in the right direction. I hope that’s not a disappointment to you, Sunshine. - Your Secret Prince.” 

   He reads it three times before letting the paper fall to his chest. A prince, he might not have liked the sound of a princess but a prince he could get behind. Not that it would mean anything different to his friends, but the idea made him happier. Wait. He freezes, lifting the letter to read it a fourth time. The only way that he could have heard that conversation was if he was in Morgie’s Witchcraft class. What princes were in there? His mind races trying to think of them. There was Charming but he was so smitten over that peasant girl that there was no chance he’d be looking to add a villain to his arm. Maybe Naveen? Naveen would be messy though, he had a pretty, loving girlfriend, one who he looked at like she was the coolest person he knew. So there was no way it was Naveen, not unless he was majorly playing Morgie to filth. So who did that leave? Who else was in that class? Hans perhaps? His friends would be okay with that, everyone knew the boy was a villain at heart. But did Morgie want that? Someone with no shame in being selfish? He didn’t think so. 

    And then it hits him, hard as a rock and sharp as shattered glass. Prince (Y/n), the one who always ran around with Bridget and Ella. The boy lets his eyes close, sighing more like a pouting dog than a person. It couldn’t be (Y/n). Uliana would lose her ever beloved mind if she saw the two of them together. And, there was no way that the sweetest prince at Merlin Academy had it in him to look at the villain kid that way. The serpent was awful to the royal’s friends, all of his own friends were. More than once Morgie had been the one to have him pinned to a wall, teasing him. Whispering foul things to the boy while he had no way to run. Not that he could do more than that, something about (Y/n) made him impossible to hurt. Or perhaps Morgie had a thing against hurting him, the boy who had been so sweet to the sorcerer when he started there. Before the VKs cared to take him in. As if the prince took in the school’s strays. Sometimes, when he was awake way too late, he would admit to himself that he missed being one of the boy’s strays. Not that he’d ever say that out loud. He loved Hook, Maleficent and Hades were good companions to keep. Making Uliana happy made him feel like he was doing something. He was a good villain, he was evil and nasty and it was where he was supposed to be. Little love letters and perfect princes couldn’t change that. He was rotten, he couldn’t let himself forget that. His mother sure wouldn’t let him forget that.

   Still, the boy fell asleep with the thought of the prince fresh on his mind, the purple stationary tucked under his pillow like he wanted to manifest something. Not that it would be good for either of them if he did, he shouldn’t want that. Not with who he’d put in work to become. And to bring the perfect prince into his world was too cruel, he would never put him in harm's way like that, he couldn’t. 

                     ✰ ✰ ✰✰ ✰ ✰✰ ✰ ✰✰ ✰ ✰

     Bridget came with treats, ones that Morgie seemed to always be too far away to reach. Today’s took the cake though, or at least Uliana took the cake. Flamingo feather cupcakes, the whole school seemed to be dotted with pink and their leader craved it. She could be pretty in pink and evil all at once, who wouldn’t want that? He knew he should be paying attention to her, being the good lackey he was supposed to be, but it was so hard. How was he meant to focus on Uliana when the prince he had fallen asleep thinking about was sliding through their friends to approach him. The only thing he could focus on was the nervous way he wrung his hands as he walked up. The way that the royal’s eyes never met his hazel one in a nervous way that he couldn’t quite explain. It wasn’t the way it was when they met, (Y/n) had been so confident then.  Had the VKs beat that confidence out of him? Morgie hoped not. 

   He was smiling though, despite the way his arms crossed over his chest, as if protecting himself when he got too close.“Hey, Morgie, long time no-” the boy stops right as he starts, turning to sea witch beside them with widened eyes. The girl had started coughing out pink feathers, earning the attention of the crew sound around them. “Oh, what did she do?” (Y/n) darts away from Morgie faster than he had approached him. And the serpent was much too busy to let himself dwell on it. Hazel eyes focusing in on the sea witch as he runs to her, trying to stop whatever chaos was set to occur. Their gaze doesn’t miss it though, that metallic sheen tucked ever so slightly under the Prince’s arm, or the bright purple burst that happens as the silver he was holding disappeared. The sorcerer guessed that answered his question, bringing him both relief and the worst crushing feeling he’d ever experienced. As if the second he finally pulled air into his lungs, it got knocked right back out. At least he could pretend he didn’t get the note, no need to embarrass the first person to show him kindness. He might be a villain, but Morgie would never forgive himself for being that cruel.

[lady-divine-writes]

Kurtbastian one-shot “Streaker” (Rated PG13)

Minutes before performing at a huge exhibition, in front of an enormous crowd and with dozens of renowned skaters, Kurt gets an epic case of cold feet. Sebastian and Blaine do their best to calm him down, but it's not working. Kurt says he'll only feel better if someone else makes a bigger ass out of themselves than he's going to.

And then, out of the blue, someone does. (1375 words)

Part 40 of Outside Edge

Read on AO3.

“I can’t … I can’t do this,” Kurt says, anxiously pacing the green room. “I can’t skate in this exhibition! Who am I kidding? I should just … I should leave right now.” He makes a beeline for the door, but Sebastian leaps in his way and intercepts him.

“Kurt” – Sebastian kneads the muscles of his boyfriend’s upper arms, trying to help him relax – “we talked about this. You’ve meditated over this. You can do this! I promise!”

“You think so!?” Kurt scoffs. “I’m sorry, but did you see Adam Rippon skate? He was flawless, Sebastian! Flawless! And the ShibSibs are here, Nathan Chen’s here.” Kurt gestures to the flat screen television on the wall displaying the rink below, with Nathan circling the ice, gearing up to perform. “He’s the quad king! By rights, they don’t even need the rest of us if he’s performing! Meryl and Charlie are here, Tessa and Scott …” Kurt’s hands drop to his sides, his gaze falls to his feet “… then there’s me - Kurt Hummel, from backwater Lima, Ohio, in an outfit I made myself like frickin’ Tonya Harding.”

“Well, I, for one, think you look incredible in this outfit.” Sebastian takes a step back to get the full effect of the crimson red, hand-stoned outfit Kurt labored months over especially for this exhibition – skin tight, and with a nude panel that makes it look essentially backless. Sebastian has spent many an uncomfortable and unfulfilled night fantasizing about Kurt in that outfit.

It makes Adam Rippon’s sheer burgundy top and black pants look like a Catholic school uniform.

“Plus, you didn’t bash anyone’s knee to get here, so that’s a point in your favor, isn’t it?” Blaine adds. But even though his attempts at humor during stressful situations usually get him a giggle, Kurt glares him down until he feels his skin pull back from his bones.

“Kurt” - Sebastian pulls his focus from a shrinking Blaine before the boy bursts into flames - “Kurt, you’ve got to calm down.”

“Calm down?” Kurt’s eyes snap to Sebastian’s face with the speed of an arrow leaving a crossbow. “Calm down!? How do you expect me to calm down!? Wh---what … what am I even doing here?”

“You deserve to be here, alright!? You earned the right to be here! You beat out hundreds of other skaters to perform at this exhibition. Do you remember what it says in the bio they printed in the program? Olympic hopeful.”

“B-but … b-but you wrote that bio!”

“So? They wouldn’t have printed it if it weren’t true! Because that’s what you are! An Olympic hopeful! You’re at the top of your game, Kurt! Most skaters will work their entire lives and never make it to where you are!”

Kurt sighs. His eyes drift to the row of windows overlooking the stadium below. Every seat is filled. It’s the largest non-competition crowd he’s ever seen in his life, and that makes his anxiety a thousand times worse. These people want to be here. They’re not here in support of their kid, or their sibling, or their teammate. These people paid sixty-dollars for the cheap seats; other people paid in upwards of a hundred and seventy-four dollars! Is his routine worth a hundred and seventy-four dollars a seat? He’s not too sure. “I wish I had your confidence in me. But right now …” Kurt’s attention shifts to the TV screen when he hears the crowd applaud and catches the tail end of Nathan Chen landing what had to be a stellar quad-quad combination “… I’m feeling a little overwhelmed.” He raises a hand to his mouth when Nathan lands another quad as easily as playing hopscotch. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Blaine races over with a small waste paper basket, but Sebastian waves him away.

“Hey …” He steps between Kurt and the screen, blocking his view of Nathan’s complicated footwork “… would it help you feel better if we made out? Maybe turning you on will turn the nerves off.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow at his coach’s suggestion. “How much of a turn-on will it be if I vomit in your mouth?”

Sebastian shrugs, a wicked smile sticking to his lips. “I don’t know, but some people are into that. Maybe we should get it on camera.”

“Sebastian!” Kurt clamps both hands over his mouth with that image glued to his brain. “You’re not helping!”

“Sorry, sorry. I was hoping that would make you laugh. I had a 50-50 chance.”

“Sebastian! This is serious! Everyone here brought their A game. And me? I feel like I’m somewhere in the vicinity of R. The only way I could possibly feel better about my performance is if someone, anyone, makes a bigger ass of themselves than me!”

Outside the green room windows, a handful of women scream, followed by a roar of laughter and cheering. Kurt looks at the screen, but where Nathan had been a moment before landing a triple Lutz, all Kurt can see are the backs of heads from people standing in their seats, and, in some cases, on their seats, to get a better view. The feed bounces from camera to camera, but none of them can seem to get a clear shot of the ice.

“Jesus Christ!” Kurt moans, face pointed to the heavens. “What’s happening now?”

“I don’t know.” Blaine heads for the windows, trying to catch a glimpse through the rush of people swarming the railings, but all he can see from his vantage point is security creating a wall to keep the performers in the green rooms separate from some altercation on the ice.

Sebastian starts to join him when he hears Kurt gasp, his eyes focused on the TV screen. Sebastian looks back to the broadcast feed. There’s someone sliding across the ice, in sneakers, being pursued by a wave of armed security guards. A rather husky, extremely hairy guy.

And he’s naked.

Correction. When the closest camera to the ice finally takes over the feed, Sebastian can see the man is sporting a novelty thong, a bright pink flamingo covering the man’s dick … but doing nothing to conceal his balls.

Blaine joins Kurt and Sebastian. The three stand in front of the screen as the camera zooms in on the streaker. He waves at the audience, laughing like a wild man. He leaps clumsily to avoid capture, the flamingo on his junk swinging left and right as he launches himself into the air. The peal of laughter filling the stadium is deafening, but boos begin to drown those out when he evades capture and the chase starts taking too long.

This is funny and all, but for a hundred and seventy-four dollars a seat, not what the crowd came to see.

When security finally tackles the man to the ice - a move that gets at least three cringing ooo’s - the audience gives security a standing ovation. Comments of, “Finally!”, “Thank God!”, and “Bring on the skaters!” travel around the crowd. Blaine shakes his head slowly, staring at the screen, unblinking.

“I … I can never un-see that,” Blaine says, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms.

“Yeah,” Sebastian agrees. “I mean … we just saw flamingos at the zoo last week … ugh …” He shudders, watching in morbid shock as security leads the man away.

During the excitement, Sebastian and Blaine lose track of Kurt, gathering up his things in the room behind them. Sebastian finally notices him doing a few test jumps, shaking out his shoulders and stretching his hamstrings with his game-face on. Sebastian smacks Blaine on the arm to get his attention, motioning towards his boyfriend with his chin.

“Kurt?” Sebastian says as Kurt grabs his bag – a rectangular leather clutch filled with his essentials: tissues, moisturizing face mist, Purell, Band-Aids, trail mix, and the like. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going down to the ice. I’m up in a few. You guys comin’?”

“Uh … yeah.” Sebastian exchanges a look with Blaine, who’s putting on his jacket. “Are you … are you going to be okay?”

“Don’t worry.” Kurt squares his shoulders and strides for the door. “I’ve got this.”