morgie seems like a words of affirmation guy to me
idk morgie feels like someone who is happy in his own physical space / doesn't typically like physical affection even with a close friend / lover
but that doesnt mean he wont show physical affection, he just doesnt initiate it and hes a little nervous to like hug you and stuff for a long time
he doesnt wanna intrude your space so he just doesnt yk
i also think he likes quality time
like he could spend a lot of time with you and just never get bored or tired of it, whether youre doing your own thing or not
he just likes being around you and complimenting you, even if you find it sappy and annoying
JAMES HOOK
hes very big on physical affection with a close second being gift giving
just loves wrapping his arms around you and giving you hugs / kisses / just trying to make you flustered
its like his favorite thing
he also loves getting you gifts, stolen or not
like if he thinks itd peak your interest / match your style / is within your range of interest he'll get it for you
sometimes he just comes to you with a small box of items he found in some abandoned home or castle or something
like aight youre not gonna question lmao
MALEFICENT
mostly getting physical affection from her
but not like cuddling or kissing or anything more like hand holding and hand kisses / kisses on cheeks
shes a classical romantic, and i dont see her enjoying physical affection, much less any other love language
like look at her with hades, they barely show romantic interactions but you can tell theyre head over heels for each other
its the small things yk?
she rlly enjoys the hand holding, small kisses, and you putting yourself before her in dangerous situations and treating her like a lady
she'll never say it but she does rlly enjoy that and lovesssss it
CHARMING
imo he gives me gift giving / words of affirmation vibes
he loves giving you compliments and trying to make you see how handsome / gorgeous / beautiful you are and stuff
hes a cheesey guy, hush
also think hed like giving you gifts, especially since hes a literal prince and has pretty much infinite money (dramatized but like it seems like the royalty never run out of money so like)
he doesnt just buy you things, he gets you things that actually mean something to you, big or small
he understands what receiving nonpersonal gifts is like so he makes a promise to himself he'll never just get you something cause of the price tag
Charming x female reader where reader is one of Ariel’s sisters and charming asks her to castle coming but she thinks he only asked her bc Ella turned him down so he like assures her he wanted to go with her
ooooo okay ; btw I only write gn / they/them readers so sorry 😔 ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; also I couldnt really wrap in anything about being a mermaid at all but I mentioned the many of sisters so 😔🙏 ; and I'm sorry this is lowkey awful uagshhh idk why writers block is so picky w what I can actually write
CHRISTOPHER CHARMING ; backup
summary ; you think charming only asked you to go to castlecoming with him because ella rejected him
warnings ; language
disclaimers ; I use christopher bc that's his name in Brandy's Cinderella so.. though I usually just call him charming 💀 looks weird on the list/title without something else there idk
word count ; 410
masterlist
Ella had turned Charming down to go to Castlecoming. In her belief, she didn't like the whole fancy parties and royalty thing. In her eyes, Bridget was the only good royalty in the world. Everyone else was stuck up and mean.
You couldn't blame her for thinking that, though.
As one of Ariel's many siblings, you had a good input on how royalty worked, considering you were royalty of the sea, and your sister married into human royalty. Lots of crowns in this family.
But, after being rejected, Charming knew he'd just have to man up. Ella said it herself.
"Go ask Y/n. We all know you wanna go with them"
"Fine..."
It was not fine. He didn't know how to ask you, nor did he even have the guts. He asked Ella because he still wanted to go with someone, but he was too nervous to ask you of all people.
You didn't think of yourself as unapproachable. You were nice, and you'd never given him a reason to be nervous around you. Well, maybe his infatuation of you created it.
But, with some careful thinking and meticulous planning of his words, he was on his way to ask you to Castlecoming. Now, you knew Ella rejected him, you were passing by as she said no, so you knew that he'd missed his opportunity to go with her.
That's why you didn't believe him when he asked you.
He approaches you with a nervous stature, gripping his skateboard in his hand. You sit by the fountain outside, gazing into the water.
He sits beside you, silent for a moment. You send him a little smile, acknowledging his presence. He rests his skateboard against the fountain, sitting criss-cross next to you.
"What's up?" you ask.
"Not much" he shrugs. "I have a question for you"
You tilt your head. "Yeah?"
"Uhm, would you consider going to Castlecoming with me? You're really nice and cool in general, I think we could have fun-"
"Hold up" you cut him off, blinking in confusion. "Ella rejected you, why are you asking me? I'm not gonna be some backup because you got rejected"
"Oh my gosh" his expression quickly turns to one of embarrassment. "You weren't a backup option, I'm sorry. Ella was my backup option, I was just too nervous to ask you in the first place. I'm sorry"
Would you be interested in writing for young Prince Charming x Vk x Ella, maybe they all get together at castlecoming it could be how they all started dating and then as time goes on the VK becomes more evil because it's apart of their story and the three begin to drift, but Charming and Ella try to bring her back
Hope your feeling better and that you get well soon 🩵💙
pairings: christopher charming x ella x fem!reader
genre: angst (with pockets of fluff)
warnings: lots of mentions of death/dying, reader is described as heavily malnourished
note: this is set with the characters as adults, but has flashbacks to them as teens. i am back in the building (writing angst with flashbacks)!!!
the smells of perfumes had quickly bitten punctures into your aching lungs, the bright lights staring down at you clawing your eyes shut, and the music louder than the roar of thunder had pounded until your rapid heartbeat anxiously returned the tune—and as the reality that you were all dressed up surrounded by royals with perfect hair and glistening gowns, pretending you could ever belong somewhere like this; you ran.
you should have listened to your ‘friends’, should have heeded their hisses when they laughed at your for even considering attending castlecoming. but you’d picked up your bruised heart, slipped into a dress that for just a moment actually made you feel beautiful, and attempted to do your makeup like all the other girls.
but no amount of eyeshadow you’d had to nick from a classmate’s bag, nor high heels that made you wonder if everyone else wearing them must be in on some cruel joke, could make you fit in.
they’d all whispered the moment you stepped an unsteady foot past the door, and their stares followed you along the outskirts of the festivities—even the teachers chaperoning had watched you cautiously, waiting for the no-good student to finally reveal she was only here just to pull some prank and try to ruin everyone else’s night.
now, you’re just deflated over the wall of the balcony, staring down at the expanse of a school that has your evil deeds staining everyone one of its walls, and wondering if it would be worth it to redo your entire life, if only for one night of happiness.
(ella shooshes charming the moment her gaze sets onto you looming outside, his own eyes drawing to the sorry sight as she nods to you gently.)
(illuminated by the moonlight—the only thing to ever show kindness to you, embracing you as you stumbled out of the ballroom with sobs stuck in your throat—they can see the expanse of your fallen features; your downturned lips, the crinkle in your eyes as you sniffle back tears, the creased eyebrows that have never looked more tired.)
five agonising days and six sleepless nights, bring aching feet to the doorstep of ruin. christopher almost gasps when, in the gaping mouth of a forest’s clearing—surrounded by runes with sharp edges and tendrils of magic darker than the night sky—they finally find you.
there, you sit kneeling, at the centre of bags full with crystals and outlawed magical items ella remembers learning about in school, enveloped by a deep grey cloak that swallows whole the figure she once was free to gaze lovingly at every day with reckless abandon.
your face is hidden, but your fingers peak out of the shadows’ hold—and chris almost gasps, when, under the harsh light of the all-seeing moon, he spots hands gone sour after weeks of neglect; bony fingers clutching harshly at items that keep almost slipping out of your shaky, weak, hold. he wishes he weren’t cursed to hear the agonisingly frail huffs of your uneven breaths.
ella and chris grip each other’s hands to hold themselves back from simply sprinting across the clearing, and scooping you up into their arms.
“i know you’re there,” the miserable teen who’s never felt more sorry for herself speaks up, not even bothering to turn to face your audience, “just get it over with,” you sigh, “just laugh already, make fun of me for crying out here all alone. you’re wasting all of our time just standing there, staring.”
a beat of silence only ends when the music from inside the ballroom tries to seep back into your aching head, and ella simply asks, “why would we do that?”
you scoff, as if that’s the most absurd think anyone’s ever said to you—because it is.
“i’m only ever mean to you.”
and then… a laugh? charming can’t help but let it out, at your insistence that you’re somehow a terrifying monster without an inch of kindness in your entire body, and his amused smile only grows when you whip around to gape at him incredulously.
“well, no,” he grins, “you’re not.”
together, in the dead of night, they take one step towards you. they reach out past the point of no return, and give themselves to the grasp of a cause they are willing to die for.
“you need to leave,” you utter, as their feet silently hit the forest floor.
and you can barely so much as finish your sentence, before your wife is sternly replying, “no.” and your husband is declaring, “never.”
your head shakes like a tree’s branches in a storm, at the whim of forces far stronger than you’ve ever been, as your bitten-down nails dig into the peeling skin of your blistered palms.
“we’re not doing this, you’re not saving me,” you want to cry, want to scream and shout and screech until their ears bleed and your throat has torn in two—you don’t know how else to get them to understand, get them to realise that you’re long gone; and if they open their arms out wide for you, it will only hurt more when the unforgiving forest hurls fists at their hearts, “it’s over.”
christopher promises, “we’re not leaving,” but all you hear is that they’ve condemned you to digging your lover’s graves.
“you have to,” your voice trembles, please.
“what? i absolutely am! i’m the meanest ever!” you sneer, though it looks more like a child just being told they can’t have a particular toy they want—or betrays the falter in your outrage, at the possibility of being found out as just another wannabe.
ella tilts her head at you with raised eyebrows, “well, you did stop uliana from stealing bridget’s cupcakes,” she shrugs oh so innocently, “that’s not very mean of you.”
you huff, crossing your arms—willing yourself to forget the guilt you couldn’t fight, when you saw just how sad the pink-haired princess had been when uli confronted her (and totally not succumbing to a heat growing in your cheeks).
“and none of the other vk’s ever help me when i fall off my skateboard,” charming shrugs just the same, as if he’s not blatantly insulting your cold-hearted reputation.
“that was one time!” you cry, but their smiles only widen.
the prince informs you, with his arm that isn’t wrapped around ella’s waist, thrown out as if to welcome you to the institution of goodness, “nah, you’re a true hero now.”
“we don’t make the rules, we just enforce them,” ella nods.
“one of the goodies,” charming singsongs, “just like the rest of us,” and shamelessly watches as you desperately try to bite your growing smile back into a scowl.
“i’m gone,” your hands run through the stinging green powder, as you release it from the pouch you’ve had locked away in your bedside drawer since before you even got engaged, “there’s no ‘going back to the way things were’, or any heroic deed that can save me from being who i am; who i’ve always been.”
“stop it,” ella wants nothing more than to still your shivering hands, and hold them to a heart that beats for you, “you know that’s not true. you’ve always been good; always had the kindest heart.”
christopher tries to take a deep breath between fighting off tears, “we don’t have to go back to the way things were, either,” he takes another step closer to the husk of his wife, “we can move away, relinquish our crowns, go wherever you wish—”
“stop it!” fallen leaves shatter beneath harsh clenching fists, and turn to ash as they fall into your lap, “you can’t do anything for me—don’t you get it? i’m not worth it!”
“you’re both beyond delusional, i’m a villain! to be feared!”
“okay,” ella concedes far too easily, before nodding expectantly to you, “do something evil, then.”
your frown loses its weight, and instead draws inwards in utter confusion. your mouth drops agape and your head recoils like a displeased bird, all while ella looks at you with those unrelenting eyes (that hold your own fumbling gaze in the palm of their hands, deep browns smiling at you, and never once mocking you for getting lost in their embrace), waiting.
you shake your head to regain freedom before you let yourself fall too deep into the galaxies inside the girl’s glistening eyes, straightening your back and squaring your shoulders with a huff.
“fine! okay!” you nod unconvincingly, approaching the two nervously, “i will! i’ll do something so evil! so get ready!”
ella just smiles as you near, as charming hides the fondest gaze behind a muffled laugh.
your empty glare flickers between the both of them, as you stand face to face with prince charming. and, as you force a dramatic frown to ella, you… lightly shove charming’s shoulder.
neither of them can hold back their amusement at your lame excuse for something ‘so evil’—charming laughing boisterously, as ella covers her hand over a gasped giggle. but when you try to step back and sheepishly retreat from the mocking pair, a hand catches yours before you can cross your arms petulantly.
your head snaps to face charming’s hand holding yours, before your uncertain gaze rises to find him grinning.
“it’s official,” he shamelessly meets your eyes—and you can’t will your expression to become anything more than a blank look, with wide eyes that only exist to adoringly reflect the boy in front of you, “you really are a hero.”
ella can’t hold herself back from navigating through the circles of runes, slipping through with so much grace it almost forgives the heavy stomps of her feet that sing of her agony; until she reaches your side, and ghosts a hand across a shoulder that juts out of thinning skin.
finally, she’s close enough to gaze upon her lover’s face, “you’re worth everything,” she murmurs, as her tilted head follows your sunken cheeks and quivering lips no matter where you try to hide them, “we would follow you anywhere, if it meant there was even the smallest chance of helping you.”
you duck further in on yourself as the warmth of her palm spreads across your back, pushing against the frostbitten coldness like a spreading virus.
“do you know what heroes do at these big, fancy, events?”
it takes all the strength in your weak, shrivelled up heart, to tear your gaze away from charming, and bite at ella without a drop of theatrical malice left in your malleable soul, “what, harass villains?”
she smiles, “they dance,” and rolls her eyes when you open your mouth again, no doubt planning to argue without hesitation, “and they stop pretending to hate their friends.”
“you expect me to dance with you—my self-appointed ‘friends’?” you ignore the rattle of your heart against your ribcage, calling out that if you’re too much of a coward to take their hands, then it will embrace the angels that you won’t itself.
charming nods, but wiggles his eyebrows, “well, we could always be more.”
christopher follows his wife past every sign that you’re too far gone laid clearly out in front of them, tiptoeing across a forest floor littered with sigils and powders plucked straight out of the depths of hell that begin to menacingly glow, and kneels to your left. his hand finds the cruel, jagged edge of where your jaw reaches out to slice at your blotchy skin, and cups it as if you’re as beautiful to him as the day he found you draped across the ballroom balcony.
your frail body gives way to whatever puts in even the littlest effort to draw you in—the gentle tug of your husband drawing your face to look at him proving unstoppable, even as you weakly try to hide inside the thick hood of your suffocating cloak.
“you don’t have to suffer alone,” he speaks softly, voice fighting the tautness of a heart slowly dying by the hand of his lover, “please, we can’t stand seeing you in so much pain.”
ella finds your other hand, holding you with rough pads of her fingers, that feel soft as silk as they idly run along your skin.
“will you dance with us?”
“please,” your wife whispers your name, in a wish that it might remind you of who you once were—deep down, the tender-souled girl you’ve always been, “come home with us.”
her hand tightly grasps yours, “we’ll get through this,” shaky fingertips try to reassure you as they run across the back of your cold hand, as charming’s thumb does the same against your cheek that doesn’t remember warmth, “together.”
you force your eyes to roll, acting reluctant as you groan, “fine, but just one song.”
and they both smile, as if they’re aware that you know you couldn’t say no to dancing with them for the rest of your life even if you tried.
you slip out of christopher’s hand, and wrench your arm from ella’s clutch.
slowly, trembling hands sink until you feel the rough dirt frame your bony fingers—and you give your final breath, dragged kicking and screaming out of tired lungs, into the wet ground that swallows everything you have left, whole. darkness deeper than the depths of your hollow eyes clouds around the farthest reaches of your runes, and rises like smoke.
finally, you whisper your reply, “no.”
and the earth begins to quake.
the rumble rises up through where your hands are tied to your fate, rattling so harshly you can hear every crack as your brittle bones shatter, and every pitiful pump of your heart, still beating for nothing.
“go,” the plead tumbles out in a sob, as your head hangs low in the silent horror of your lovers, “please, run.”
but your husband’s hands find anywhere he can reach you, and rushes to try to pull you up from where your knees bury into the ground, and ella’s voice calls out through the onslaught of thrashes like dragon roars clawing up towards you.
“we’re not going anywhere, not without you!”
you fall backwards, violently shaking hands planting behind you as the hood of your cloak betrays you, and leaves every last scar and tear at the mercy of their gazes.
you meet their eyes, one by one, “then you’re going to die for nothing.”
the soft blue of ella’s pants stains with the singes of magic and unforgiving mud, as she crawls over to follow you sprawled out across the floor.
“then i’ll stay here until my last breath, with you.”
you let your head loll back, colliding with the cruel burn of a rune—and meet christopher’s eyes, where he stares down at you through unstoppable waterfalls of tears.
he’s silently begging for something (for you).
so you close your eyes.
“goodbye.”
charming’s strong arm wraps around your waist as he twirls you, and ella’s hands around your neck every now and then sneak up to trace faintly along your jaw. you could be doing this all wrong—tripping over your feet and flailing your hands in the air like a fool—and you wouldn’t be able to care less; not when intertwined fingers guide you and giggles sing songs sweeter than anything that echoes out of the ballroom.
your life suddenly feels like it’s all just been a terribly long introduction to this heavenly refrain, of being surrounded by people you can already picture your entire future spent beside.
so you wish, with all your might, that such a perfect melody as the one you’ve found tonight never ends.
