#[me seeing alan who I love more than life itself looking so handsome] he’s like the devil to me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Death’s Tales

The Curator (The Dark Pictures Anthology) x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None (Maybe slight spoilers and slight mentions of death)

Genre: Dark Theme, slight Angst

Summary: This isn’t Y/N’s first visit to the Curator’s repository. She’s visited two times so far and deep down she knows she’ll keep coming back. Stories have a way of trapping you in the place where they live. But then again, it’s nice to have some good company for when you are introduced to those stories. Someone to laugh with during all the humorous parts. And also someone to offer you tissues when you are going through the thick of the lives written on the pages of the many books.

Requested by Anon! Hi there! Thank you so much for your request! Sorry it took so long to write, though I hope the fic makes up for the wait. I hope I captured what you had in mind. Please, enjoy. Love, Vy ❤❤❤

“Hello? You here?!“ Y/N calls out as she walks into familiar room. She immediately gets the feeling that she’s in the presence of a more intense power than she could explain - the power of all the timeless stories currently surrounding her. This is by no means her first tango with the deathless death turned into words written on thin, delicate pages for people to enjoy. She has always had an odd connection to each and every story she reads, so this place was the ultimate trap when she first wandered in, expectations low and head held high. She underestimated the repository, however, it didn’t take long for it to turn the tables on her with all it has to offer. In less than an hour, she had her nose buried in a book, her expectations exceeded by miles and her mind transported to a different place and time.

“Where else would I be?” The distinct voice she’s gotten so used to hearing replies from somewhere near by, “You know I rarely leave this place.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that’s a sad way to be spending your time. But man, if I could stay here all my life I would.“ She struts into the room where the reply came from.

He is indeed there, standing by one of the many shelves, a candleholder with lit handles in one hand, browsing the shelf’s contents with the other. He chuckles at her statement, brushing it off completely, “I was waiting for you. Have a seat, I’ll pick a story for you.”

She gets comfortable, unwrapping her scarf and shrugging off her jacket. Sitting down in one of the leather chairs opposite his desk, she crosses her legs and waits expectantly.

“Ah, there we go. ‘House Of Ashes’, how does that sound to you?” He pulls out a book, holding it under the candlelight for Y/N to see the cover with the title engraved in the, what seems to be, leather surface.

She frowns, scrunching her nose, “You know what, no. I’m tired of these sad and scary stories laced with death. I can’t live knowing I gave those characters a bad fate. I know it’s redo-able, but I can’t help but feel shitty afterwards.” She shifts in her seat, “First all those people left stranded on that boat! Then I was tricked into sympathizing and emotionally investing into characters that were nothing more than the product of a broken mind!” She gives him a glare that’s looking through him more than at him, “I think I deserve a different story this time. Something lighter.”

The older man chuckles. “I was gonna have you choose between this one and this other oldie I have,” he points at the desk where another book is already sitting, “it’s a longer story, I might have mentioned it before.” Y/N reads the title ‘The Impatient’ engraved in the olive green cover of the large book, “But that’s not in any way lighter either. I would even say it’s among the more depressive ones.“ He pauses for a second, returning ‘House Of Ashes’ in its spot, “Perhaps I could find a story of a less melancholic premise.”

“Wait.“ She lifts her hand, putting his actions to a halt, “Why don’t we change it up for once? How about you tell me a story instead of reading me one?“

He’s very clearly taken aback by this. “I’m afraid an old man like myself doesn’t have a lot to share. Especially not when I’ve spent a rather big chunk of my life in this very place, doing this very thing.”

Y/N shakes her head, “Quite the contrary, mister Curator. I believe you have way more stories than all the people my age combined.” She smirks, “Don’t worry, I won’t tattle if you have some dirt on your name. What is it? Robbery? Fraud? Murder?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. I am not that interesting.“ He chuckles, settling in his chair. “But I believe I could tell you the story of the only time I helped someone directly rather than through the riddles you hate so much.“

She’s clearly pleased with the outcome of her protest. She gives him a smile, “I’m all ears.“

He can’t help but shake his head at her child-like enthusiasm for something so simple. He’s determined to make it worth her while, so he digs through the contents of his brain, looking for the most interesting memories he has stored there - the ones that would entertain her. Eventually, he comes up with one.

“Have I ever mentioned my dear friend Alan to you, by any chance?“

Y/N thinks for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, but as usual, you were very vague.”

He chuckles, “I know you hate not being given details, so I’m gonna make sure not to leave anything out.” He absentmindedly picks up the pen on his desk, twirling it between his fingers, “Well, a brief introduction to our character Alan: he’s a psychiatrist. A year or two younger than me. He’s from Calgary. I met him in my mid-thirties, when I was still what some would consider young.” He smiles at the pleasant memory.

Y/N fakes shock, placing a hand over her chest, “You mean to tell me there was time when you, the Curator, were young? You can’t be serious. I refuse to believe that.”

“I was. And I was quite handsome, mind you.“ He takes out his wallet, opening it and handing it to Y/N. On the right, covered by a thin layer of clear plastic is a black and white photo of two men in their early to mid forties.

“You’re the one on the left, right?” She asks, staring at the photo wide eyes, looking up at him for confirmation. He nods in response. “Wow, I honestly wouldn’t have recognized you.”

“Understandably so. Time has really taken a toll on me.“ He actually looks saddened when he says that. She can tell that was less a joke and more the truth.

“I wouldn’t say so.“ She tells him sincerely, a small genuine smile on her lips.

He returns her smile, his eyes becoming a bit livelier. “Him and I are still friends till this day. He’s a walking book of stories, I’m sure you’d like him if you ever get the chance to meet him. You see, he has spoken to me about all his patients, never once naming one of them. Until this on young man had come into his office. He was struggling with issues medicine in and of itself couldn’t completely fix. His name was Joshua. The boy was having a really tough time dealing with the loss of his sisters.” He sighs at the memory, “Alan told me he tried everything. He tried all things his years of practice and work have taught him but the boy was slowly sinking further and further down into the void of his mind.“

His voice is way different from his usual narrator tone. You can hear the weight of the events he’s reciting in every syllable that leaves his lips. She is now an accomplice, exactly like if she were there when it all happened.

“It was troubling my friend to the brink of madness, I couldn’t just stand aside and watch that. Also that kind young man, Joshua, deserved a lot better than what life was giving him. Every branch that poor boy held onto snapped. Everything he ever tried to make of himself crumbled. I admired him for the fact that he kept trying and seeking a way to succeed. What he failed to see was the obvious need for help he had. He was longing for a helping hand but no one noticed, or they simply didn’t care. Except this one girl. Her name was Samantha. She saw right through his act. But he never allowed her helping hand to reach him. He never wanted to be a weight on her shoulders. Never wanted to be nor the bump in her road nor the baggage she carried while walking it. So, I stepped in. I taught him the importance of having someone by your side, and taught her the importance of never giving up on someone who means a lot to you. Luckily for themselves and for Alan and I, they listened.“

“Forget about Alan, I want to meet Joshua and Samantha. I want to meet them and give them a big hug.“ Y/N says, her mind wandering to the images she has compiled. A broken boy and a girl with the strength to carry both her and his world in her arms. She can quite see their face, but she can picture their auras, their energies. They feel so real to her, and all just from the Curator’s words alone.

Soon enough, her eyelids start giving out, her eyes fluttering closed. She’s fighting to the best of her ability to stay awake, see this story to its end, but the Curator’s storytelling and the dark, candlelit room aren’t helping her with the battle. Her mind is drifting further and further into the land where the story she’s being told will keep expanding with elements added by her imagination. She’s certain she’ll dream of this tale.

“Oh you’re already clocking out, huh?“ The Curator chuckles, pausing his story mid-sentence.

“Can’t help it.“ Y/N mumbles, already more than half asleep, “Just tell me how it ends, you’ll fill in the gaps when I wake up.“

“Well, it hasn’t ended yet. I can tell you where it’s at at the moment.“ She hums approvingly, “It’s been five years since I stepped in and now they are happily married. They have a little one on the way. A little girl, I believe.“

A lazy smile forms on her face. “That’s nice.” the words leave her lips in the form of a sleepy sigh moments before she has been dragged into the deepest crevasses of her mind and imagination.

The Curator calmly and quietly gets up, taking his jacket from the coatrack. He drapes it over the girl asleep in the armchair on the other side of his desk. Little does this college student know, he has seen both her past and future. He has met her in several different periods of her life. She’s been like her own personal guardian angel. In her past-lives too.

Guardian angel of death.

He was lucky to have met Alan before that curse was bestowed upon him - making the psychiatrist the only man he could interact with without bringing him a sooner than anticipated and inevitable demise. He wasn’t completely honest with Y/N about the time frame of meeting the other man, but that was not an important piece of information. She could do without it. He used the only hall-pass he had to do his old friend a favor - settle the storms that raged between Joshua and Samantha. And now, he’s locked away from the world, waiting for souls to come to him instead of the other way around.

Nowadays, he just stays hidden from people and only meets with those who wander into his repository. It’s always the same pattern: they come in, not really sure how they ended up there; He coaches them through a story they think they have some sort of impact on; and then they leave and never come back.

Color the man surprised when he saw her walk in the first time. It took him no time to connect the dots, he’d recognize her anywhere. She wasn’t clueless like the others, she actually seemed like she was looking for the place. He spent the next week or so feeling like he had failed the only purpose he had - to keep her safe. That was until she showed up again, even cheerier than the first time. That’s when he knew he shouldn’t fear for her, for she was a phenomenon beyond his understanding. A soul never in death’s reach.

“I hope you never get to see the same fate as everyone else who meets me.“ He whispers, looking down at her sleeping form.

He knows she’s special. After all, he never has never met anyone more than once.

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tagsecretsanta · 3 years

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From @willow-salix

to @fallenfurther

Secret Santa does not own this work, full credit to the author above!

Grandma Tracy might portray herself as a hip, cool, down with the kids granny to anyone that would listen but even she had to admit that she was a traditionalist at heart. Not in the way that many might expect, not in the boring way of not moving with the times when needed, she could work the holoprojector almost as well as John when it came to coordinating a rescue, she just subscribed to the ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’ school of thought.

She knew that old fashioned things still had a place in the world, they still had a use, even when people thought they were antiquated and fit for nothing but a museum or a rubbish pile. She’d proven that to Virgil when they had been stuck in London with no technology whatsoever and since then Virgil had had more of an appreciation for the older things in life.

Traditions were important in her eyes, although rarely were they the common ones that everyone in the world did. Mostly because Sally Tracy did not follow the pack, she never had. She refused to do what everyone else did, to her traditions began at home. They should invoke memories of a time long ago and remind you of the things that were important. Family traditions, now they were the way to go.

She could vividly remember her mother singing along to the radio as they decorated the Christmas tree. They would drink hot chocolate and have a lovely time as they decorated, dressing up in the tinsel and talking, catching up on the things they might not have had time to talk about before. Always on the 1st of December, always with Christmas songs playing and always as a family. And Sally had made sure that she'd done exactly the same with her boys.

Now it was Christmas Eve, the gifts had been purchased and wrapped, the tree had been decorated and the family had just about escaped with their sanity after a month of non stop christmas songs on the stereo courtesy of Grandma. Jeff had been the only one brave enough to suggest that maybe they listen to something else but he had quickly backed down when she had speared him with a glare that could have stripped the paint off Thunderbird Two’s hull if she had been close enough to it.

It’s tradition, she said, one of the only ones she could count on since moving to Tracy Island. Beautiful as the island was, it was far too tropical to feel in any way christmassy and the only way she could get in the mood (or so she claimed) was by listening to festive music.

She missed feeling the days grow colder as summer lost its grip on the world and the crisp, chilly days of fall took over. Once fall was firmly there and you couldn’t leave the house without a sweater it was only a matter of time before the smell of burning leaves and woodsmoke filled the air and winter came nipping at its heels. The cold of winter, the first flurries of snow, brought with it the sound of carols, bells and the smell of baking gingerbread. She loved being wrapped up in warm clothes and feeling the icy blast of wind that stole her breath and she missed it when temperatures on the island rarely changed at all.

Rescues often made regular meals and time off difficult, they often interrupted family time and special occasions. The Tracys were used to it, but it did make getting into any kind of routine difficult and often meant that such things as birthdays and christmas felt unimportant. But not to Grandma, to her it was of vital importance and no one had better argue with her. Jeff, wise man that he was, had given up and retreated to his office, his almost soundproof door and peace.

Gordon was in London spending the day with Penelope for her birthday before they returned to the island that evening for Christmas. John was in Five as usual, finishing up preparations for a few well deserved days off (although he would probably be regretting his decision by dinner time Christmas Day), Kayo was visiting Kyrano for Christmas Eve and would return in the morning and Brains was wishing he had never walked into the lounge.

“Snow is falling, all around me, children playing, having fun,” Grandma sang, joining in with the video playing out on the holoprojector as she attempted to crochet a scarf figuring it was as traditional a pass time as any to indulge in, maybe it would be ready by next Christmas if she was lucky. “Come on, Brains, you know the words, join in.”

“B-but it’s not accurate for our climate,” he argued, never having been one to enjoy a sing-along like some members of the family. “There is never snow on T-T-Tracy Island.”

“That’s not the point, Brains,” she sighed, trying to untangle the yarn that insisted on knotting on her lap rather than in the carefully ordered way it should.

“It’s not?”

“No!” She tossed the scarf, all four wonky rows of it, onto the table, giving up for now before she was tempted to lob it up Thunderbird Two's tail pipe.

“I d-don’t understand,” Brains admitted, something that was very hard for him to do. He was used to being one of the smartest people in the room, if not the smartest, and now, here he was, not understanding a simple thing like this. Maybe he’d been working too hard?

“It’s not about the song, it’s about the meaning behind it,” Grandma explained patiently for what felt like the millionth time that December. “It’s traditional.”

“A song is traditional?”

“Well, yes, but not just the song, it’s the image it portrays. Christmas in my day meant snow, cold weather clothes, wrapping up warm, skating on a frozen lake, then coming inside to drink hot chocolate around a crackling fire and listening to carols on the radio with my mother as we waited for my father to get home. We knew that once he was home the holidays could really start. He worked hard and had very little time off in a year, only every other sunday, two days for Easter and Christmas Day.”

“Kinda like us then,” Alan muttered from his spot on the couch where he had been relaxing before breakfast, playing a handheld game.

“Yes, and because we have none of the weather here or the time off, not that I would want to be anywhere else, but the only thing that really makes it feel like Christmas is the songs. So we’re going to keep the music and you’re all going to like it.”

A new song came on and Grandma sighed happily as Alan groaned as if in pain.

“I love this song, it was one of my favourites,” she stared dreamily at the screen. “Oh, it’s Christmas time, mistletoe and wine. Children singing Christian rhyme. Isn’t he handsome? I wouldn’t kick him out for eating cookies.”

“Grandma!” Alan gasped, shocked to the core, his tone showing his disgust.

“What? Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I can’t look and do a little window shopping. I’ve got all his albums, including his live concerts, it’s just not Christmas without seeing him on the TV. Here, I’ll show you. Just listen to him some more and I’m sure you’ll learn to love him.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes, it’s Christmas.”

“That’s your answer to everything,” Alan grumbled but he put down his game and prepared to do his duty as a grandson.

“I’ll start you off easy with Little Town,” Grandma told him, pressing play.

***

“This comes to pass, when a child is born. When a child is born… oh, oh, o-” Grandma sang along to the fifth song of her playlist when, to Alan’s intense relief, John’s hologram popped up, replacing the music video that had been playing.

“International Rescue, we have a situation,” he started, then paused looking around the room, frowning when he saw only Grandma, Brains and Alan in attendance.

“A situation? Yes! I’ll get Scott and Virg,” Alan cheered, jumping up.

"That's not the reaction I usually get," John observed, wondering what could have brought about that sort of excitement so early in the morning from the brother who liked his sleep the most.

“Never mind that. What have you got?” Grandma asked, all business now, her Christmas spirit in song form now forgotten.

“Guests trapped in an ice hotel in Sweden.”

“Scott! Virgil! It’s safe to come up, the music’s off and John needs us to go to Sweden,” Alan yelled as he clattered down the stairs to the kitchen where the older two were no doubt hiding.

“A what now?” Grandma asked, ignoring Alan.

“An ice hotel,” John repeated. “The hotel was first built in 1990 in the small village of Jukkasjarvi, Sweden, now they rebuild it every year and add to it with a different architect for each room. I’m sure it looks very beautiful when you can actually see it and a freak snow storm hasn't covered the entrance then frozen.” He pulled up a feed to show what must have been the hotel but all that was visible was two large piles of snow.

“What are we looking at, John?” Scott demanded to know, jogging up the stairs with Virgil hot on his heels, Alan bringing up the rear.

John brought up a picture of the ice hotel in its normal glory.

“This is the Winter Heart Hotel in Sweden,” he began. The picture showed a beautiful backdrop of a frosty night with the northern lights visible dancing in the sky behind two pure white domes of snow which were obviously the hotel. They looked like elaborate igloos, connected by covered tunnels and slopes that had formed on the sides with big, wooden looking doors on the front of the domes. The snow sparkled in the moonlight and even though it was clearly freezing cold the whole place looked very welcoming. Little cabins were scattered here and there around the hotel itself, giving the whole scene a picture postcard feel.

“Looks great,” Virgil commented.

“That was it three months ago,” John answered before flicking aside the picture to replace it with the previous image. “This is it as of four hours ago.”

“Woah,” Scott breathed, his eyes tracking over the large mounds of snow that covered the domes so effectively they looked to be nothing but snowy hills. “What happened?”

“Freak snow storm blew in from the arctic circle and dumped around seven feet of snow on the hotel overnight. By the time morning came the fresh snow had frozen solid, trapping a number of high profile guests inside.”

“High profile?”

“The Winter Wonder charity concert happens there every year, people from all over the world pay big money to stay there and not just for the music,” John answered. "It's reported to be an amazing experience but not for the faint hearted. They keep the inside at a constant -5 degrees centigrade, although they do have warm rooms of the hotel such as bathrooms and some bedrooms. They should be fine in there for now, but we obviously need to get them out. The hotel itself has been trying to dig their way through for the past hour. They had a snow plow of their own but it broke a week or so ago and as no snow was forecast they hadn't rushed to replace it.”

“Any casualties?” Virgil asked, already walking across the lounge to his launch chute.

“None reported, apparently they have placated the guests with numerous free drinks and dinner, but unfortunately they are now reported to be getting a little rowdy.”

“Rowdy? Well it won’t do to keep them waiting much longer, will it? I guess we had better hit the skies,” Scott grinned, crossing over to stand in front of the wall where his launch chute was hidden, reaching up to grasp the light fittings that triggered the revolving door. “See you out there!”

“Alan, you're with me,” Virgil called, much to Alan’s delight. He dropped down in one of the bucket seats that would take him or a passenger to Thunderbird Three so he could suit up, grinning like a mad man, happy to be off the island for a few hours.

“I’ll send the coordinates and brief you when you’re airborne,” John told them as they all vanished, his hologram blinking out a moment later.

“Well,” Grandma sighed, turning back to the holoprojector. “Now that they have gone I guess it’s just you and me, Brains.” With a quick flick of her wrist she had turned the music video on, the sound drowning out Brains’ pitiful groan.

***

“Bulldozer Pod is go!”

“Alan, be careful with it!” John warned, his voice echoing around the pod cabin, as the bulldozer shot forward at a much faster speed than was sensible. His hologram popped back into existence to give their littlest brother one of his patented death stares when Alan dared to roll his eyes at him.

“I think I know what I’m doing, it’s just a little snow.”

“No, it’s not just a little snow, if you go too deep or too far you’ll risk taking out one of the walls of the hotel itself. It’ll register as snow, exactly as the rest of it does. Here,” John paused to send through the holographic map overlay he had just finished creating. The overlay settled on top of the map already in front of Alan from the pods scans, then sank down over the snowy mounds, now showing the outline of the buildings.

“Avoid the ice walls, I got it,” Alan assured him.

“Just make sure you pay full attention,” John ordered.

“I’ll be fine, go bug Scott, he’s the one you can’t trust.”

“Unfortunately there isn't just one, I can’t trust any of you,” John sighed and, against his better judgement, left Alan to his own devices.

Alan trundled forward a little slower than before, heeding the warning. He might be excitable but he wasn’t stupid and now that he had a better idea of what he was looking at and supposed to do he could see that he would have to be a little more careful.

As John had said, scans from their equipment were registering nothing but ice and snow, there was no clear definition between what was fresh snow and what had been there before and was part of the building. He could detect life signs deep inside the snow piles, as expected, but they seemed calm enough, their heart rates slow and easy, showing them to be totally relaxed.

He moved the pod closer to the huge wall of snow and maneuvered it into place, his plan being to work in a square, side to side, front to back, moving in closer and closer until the majority of the snow had been removed, allowing Virgil and Scott access to come in with a modified Sherpa Pod. The idea being to use the heat bank element to create what amounted to a high powered hair dryer to defrost the ice that had the guests trapped.

With his first run he plowed a wide path in front of the hotel a good twelve meters away. He checked the map overlay, calculating that he could manage two more full sweeps, working back and forth before he’d be risking getting too close and would have to hand over to his brothers.

Scott and Virgil were configuring the modifications to the Sherpa Pod when John called in to give them an update.

“Alan has removed the snow down to quarter of a meter from the doors, now it’s down to you guys.”

“FAB Thunderbird Five,” Scott answered, swinging up into the passenger seat of the pod. He’d finally grown out of his desire to drive every single vehicle he got into and had learnt that Virgil was, in general, a much more capable pod pilot than he was, although he’d never admit that out loud.

Virgil gave him that look that said he knew exactly what he was doing but, being the more peace loving Tracy, he declined to comment. Instead he climbed effortlessly into the driver's seat and settled in. He carefully guided the vehicle down the module ramp and out onto the snow, ignoring Scott’s impatient huff in response to his sedate pace.

“Slow and steady,” he quoted, knowing that snow was tricky terrain to navigate at the best of times and this wasn’t the time or the place in which to push their luck.

“The danger here is with the hotel itself,” John told them as Virgil made his way across the snow.

“How so?” Scott asked. “I thought the reports said that the hotel was stable.”

“It’s made of the very thing we’re going to be melting,” Virgil answered, checking his instrument readouts as he navigated up and over the snow into the ditch that Alan had excavated.

“Oh, yeah, good point,” Scott conceded. “So what’s the plan?”

“The snow fall isn’t the real problem here, the hotel can take the weight of it easily having been subjected to weight tests to ensure it could retain its structural integrity for these exact reasons,"John answered. "In this case all we need to do is concentrate on freeing the doors, the rest, as long as they take precautions, should be fine to leave in situ.”

“Got it, just the doors,” Scott confirmed.

“You’re going to have to go steady,” John warned. “There’s not a lot of clearance there, Alan has done his best but it’s going to be a delicate operation.”

“Steady is my middle name,” Virgil assured him. “I’ve got it under control. You just concentrate on keeping the hotel employees in the loop.”

“FAB,” John answered, blinking out as quickly as he had come.

Heat bank raised, Virgil worked the controls expertly, taking his time to melt away the snow that was left, being careful to keep it moving and only work on the front of the hotel where the doors should be, following the same map overlay that John had provided for Alan.

Alan, they saw, had done a thorough job, moving the snow far out of the way and was now using the loader and the pod’s caterpillar tracks to tramp down and spread out the snow he’d plowed, eliminating the possibility of the new snow piles posing a danger to anyone.

After only a few minutes of careful work the doors to the main entrance of the hotel began to appear through the snow as it melted away, sliding down the wood. Virgil checked the map one more time, realising that there was little more he could do without risking the ice of the hotel itself.

“I’m gonna have to get my exo-suit and do the rest by hand,” he decided, sounding like he was talking to himself, almost like he had forgotten that Scott was even there. Scott declined to comment, busy watching Alan work, pleased to see that, although the youngest Tracy sometimes had the same kind of offbeat humour as Gordon, he was as competent and sure as ever in his work.

Virgil turned the pod back to the module, not wanting to walk the entire way and, leaving Scott to reconfigure the pod to something a little more manageable for travelling across snow, he got himself into the mechanical suit.

Twenty minutes later a stream of grateful employees and guests came pouring out of the freed doors, all talking at once, jabbering away in excitement at seeing the mighty Thunderbird vehicles up close.

“Please, please come inside,” one waiter gushed, grabbing Scott by the arm and hauling him into the hotel. Virgil glanced at Alan who shrugged, it wasn’t like they couldn't be spared for a little longer. "My name is Felix, please, anything I can do, just tell me."

"It's OK, Felix," Scott started. "We don't need you to do anything…" he trailed off as they stepped inside, their attention instantly taken by their first look at the hotel.

“Woah,” they all breathed in unison, their eyes feasting on the beauty in front of them. They were surrounded on all sides by sparkling, crystal like slabs of ice that formed a lobby area that immediately opened up into an ice bar, a warmly wrapped up waiter behind the bar ready to take their orders. Several guests sat on fur covered ice chairs, sipping from thick glasses that looked to be crystal but were obviously made of ice too.

“This is just...wow,” Virgil’s eyes darted here and there, trying to take in everything at once. He slipped his arms out of the exo-suit and allowed the mechanical limbs to fold down alongside the suit against his back. Reaching out a hand he stroked the delicately carved face of an ice maiden, one of the many sculptures that were dotted here and there. “Can I have a look around?”

“Of course,” the waiter, Felix, who had invited them in nodded eagerly, clearly happy to be of service. “Come, I give you a tour.”

Virgil knew that he must have looked a sight, stomping down the icy walkway with his suit on so, with Scott’s help, he shed it and left his brothers to guard it while he followed the man who had already darted ahead.

Now that he was free of the cumbersome machinery he was able to navigate the icy corridors and smaller walkways with ease. He descended a staircase, again completely made of ice, something he found hard to get his head around as it all looked like crystal, and stepped into a high ceilinged room that sported the most magnificent chandelier he had ever seen.

The ice shards hung down in elegant lines that culminated in three perfectly formed circles. The artist in him was in awe of the work that had gone into creating something that was not only visually stunning but practical at the same time.

Walking through the rooms he saw more exquisite sculptures, fur draped beds in bedrooms that each had a different theme such as under the sea with giant ice jellyfish hanging from the ceiling, clowns, dancers, and solar systems. On the way to the beautiful chapel with its ice shard altar and fur covered pews, he saw a magnificent unicorn that dominated a large part of a hallway. Here and there he saw leaves, animals, birds, faces and flowers, all carved from the ice and snow that made up the hotel. It was, simply put, stunning.

He returned to find Scott and Alan, who had taken up residence in one of the warm rooms with cups of hot chocolate, surrounded by guests. Many of them seemed a little worse for wear after their extended stays in the bar areas where the drinks had been flowing freely in an effort to keep them unaware as to the predicament they had been in.

It seemed that the guests were also fans, their voices carrying that slightly raised, mildly slurred tone that drunk people got, as they peppered the boys with questions.

“We really can’t reveal any of our secrets,” Scott told them, sounding as if he were repeating himself for maybe the twentieth time.

“You eat?” someone popped up behind them and offered a delicious looking burger on a plate.

“Oh, don’t mind if I do,” Scott grinned, reaching to take it. “Thank you.”

Alan and Virgil happily accepted their own plates, diving in to take large bites, eager for some food that hadn’t been cremated by Grandma. Decent food was hit or miss on the island, but everything dished up was met with a general sense of trepidation until the first bite determined its edibility.

“Damn, this is good,” Alan mumbled, his mouth full.

“I’ll say it is,” Virgil agreed, his cheeks resembling hamster pouches as he answered with his mouth full.

"I am glad you like,” Felix smiled, looking rather proud of himself. “They are our speciality, made from our own reindeer.”

Alan choked, his eyes growing wide as he stopped chewing and stared at the burger. Reaching for a napkin he, as politely as possible, spat out the food in his mouth.

Virgil looked a little horrified while Scott just shrugged and kept right on eating. Scott counted himself as a foodie, he would try anything once, or even twice if he was undecided the first time. He had eaten in top restaurants around the world, in little cafes, from carts on the side of the road, anywhere and everywhere that there was food, there was Scott, willing and ready to try it.

“What?” he asked when Alan stared at him in disgust. “It’s a burger, plus it’s good.”

Virgil was obviously fighting some internal war between his stomach and his brain. On the one hand he was hungry and Scott was right, the burger was damn good, but on the other his brain was insisting on conjuring up visions of Santa and his sleigh. In the end his stomach won and he took another bite.

“Virgil!” Alan gasped, making Virgil wince guiltily.

“There’s nothing wrong with the burger, Al. They were good enough to feed us, it would be rude not to.”

Alan, clearly torn between his desire to not be seen as impolite and his desire to not eat Rudolph, was spared from making a decision by a sudden burst of music coming from deeper in the hotel. All three Tracy brothers groaned in unison.

“Is there a problem?” Felix asked, concern etched on his face. Had he given them a bad burger? Food poisoning? Insulted their ancestors? “Anything I can do to thank you, please do say.”

“No,” Virgil assured him. “We just recognised the music, that’s all.”

“Ah,” Felix smiled, clearly relieved. “That is the band beginning a last minute rehearsal and sound check before the concert.”

“Concert?”

Felix pointed to a holographic poster on the wall.

Alan’s eyes widened in recognition and he leant over to whisper to Scott. Scott listened, his eyes widening too as he realised what his little brother meant.

Clearing his throat he made his request. “Maybe there is something you can do for us, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course! Anything!” Felix gushed, pleased that the high profile Tracy brothers weren’t mad at him.

“Can you get us their autographs?”

Felix grinned, looking even more proud of himself than he had before.

“I can do better than that.”

***

Grandma hadn’t known what to think when Virgil had called home and told her that Scott was on his way back to collect her, telling her only to wear as many warm clothes as she could, but she had done as she was told.

Digging deep into the back of her wardrobe where she kept the clothes that had languished there for more years than she cared to remember, she had dragged out a thick winter coat and a warm top to wear under her customary onesie, along with wooly socks, gloves, scarf and hat.

She was waiting impatiently in the launch bay before Scott had even made it home and was soon comfortably installed in a passenger seat as her eldest grandson whisked her away into the unknown.

Virgil and Alan were there to greet them as they landed, a pair of ice skates in hand and identically proud grins on their faces.

They had spent a pleasant hour or so sliding around on the custom built ice rink. The ice, as with the hotel, had been imported from the nearby Torne River. Grandma was pleased to find that, although slightly rusty at first, she was able to take to the ice with a reasonable degree of competency, much better than that of her grandsons.

Scott was all long limbs and over enthusiasm, trying to go fast straight off the bat and failing spectacularly until he slowed down and figured out how to walk before he ran. Virgil was a little better, adopting the tactic of trying to place his feet carefully, as he would while walking, getting his footing before doing a slow first lap around the outer edge of the rink, gaining confidence the longer he was on there.

Alan it seemed, much to their surprise, had inherited her grace on the ice and took to it easily, executing an almost perfect first lap before streaking off across the ice like a bullet.

Skating gave way to an impromptu snowball fight started by Scott aiming at Alan and finished by Grandma who pelted the troublemakers with snow while Virgil held them in place.

“How about we head inside and grab a warm drink before heading home?” Virgil suggested, shaking the snow off his shoulders, thankful that their uniforms protected them from such a wide range of weather conditions.

“That would be wonderful,” Grandma sighed happily as they walked towards the hotel.

“I want to thank you boys for such a lovely surprise. Much as I love our home it’s been nice to feel snow again and experience an old fashioned Christmas eve again after so long of endless summer.”

“You deserve it,” Scott assured her, draping an arm around her shoulders.

“Yeah, it was our pleasure,” Alan agreed, holding the still freely swinging door open for her.

Grandma experienced much the same wonder as they had as she enjoyed a tour of the hotel at the hands of the ever accommodating Felix, who had been more than happy to be her guide, showing her all the hotel had to offer.

It was beautiful, a true once in a lifetime winter wonderland of crystalline ice and exquisite sculpture that reminded her of the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, her favourite book as a child, when the White Witch had frozen all of Narnia in an endless winter.

Felix was happy to let her wander at her own pace, never trying to hurry her as she explored, her eyes taking in all there was to see. But, eventually, she grew tired and needed to rest, not being as young as her mind would have her believe. She was more than happy to be delivered back to her waiting grandsons with the promise of a hot chocolate in one of the warm rooms.

The function room was beautiful in its simplicity, decorated in a cozy cabin style with insulated fireplaces here and there which gave off no heat but looked perfect in the wood panelled room. There were comfy couches and wooden tables with rings of chairs dotted here and there, all arranged in a semi circle that faced towards the raised platform that was acting as a stage if the instruments there were any indication.

The room was still empty apart from five men sitting around a table, enjoying a quiet drink before the show started. They looked up expectantly when the door opened and the three Tracy boys led their special guest into the room.

Grandma had never been one to be lost for words before but there was a first time for everything and this appeared to be that time. She froze in the doorway, requiring a gentle nudge from Virgil to get her moving again. Her eyes were firmly fixed on one man as he put down his drink and moved towards them, a bright smile of welcome on his face.

“Hi there,” he started, holding out his hand, “I’m Cli-”

“Cliff Richard Jr!” Grandma shrieked, coming out of her starstruck daze to grab his hand between both of hers, yanking it closer, reeling him in for a smothering hug.

“Woah, easy there, Grandma!” Scott laughed as the singer’s arms flailed in shock. “Let the man breathe.”

Alan gently untangled Grandma’s arms from around Cliff, allowing him to back up and regain his freedom.

“So,” Cliff wheezed, straightening his tie and clearing his throat, regaining his composure before he bestowed upon her another dazzling smile. “Am I right in assuming you’ll be staying for the show?”

“You bet your ass I am.”

“Grandma!” all three boys yelped in shock but, thankfully, Cliff just laughed.

The music might not be to their tastes, in fact for Alan it was akin to torture, but seeing the look of joy on their Grandmother's face made it all worth it.

And wasn't that the true spirit of the season? Taking the time to think about others before you thought of yourself, spreading joy and happiness whenever you could.

Grandma was the heart of International Rescue, the heart of the house and the loving center of their family. She had always gone out of her way to look after them, now it was their turn to give something back to her. Something that she would never, ever forget.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #grandma tracy #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #alan tracy #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #willow-salix #secret santa 2020 #tag team secret santa

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deathwish-koala · 3 years

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Harry, the womanizer

Okay, I’ll admit it. When Watermelon Sugar hit the radio and I suddenly had to hear it everywhere, in my head I kinda went, “Jesus Harry, we get it. You like to fuck.”

But I was just playin’! Joshin’ my boy! You know I love Harry, and more to the point, I think he’s a very thoughtful artist. I think he’s straining for an emotional truth in his work that he must constantly interrogate and shape--hence his propensity to change lyrics and cadence (the Spotify Singles version of Two Ghosts comes to mind) in live performance.

I don’t really believe that his music, allusions to fruit juices aside, is mostly sexual. But even if it were--would that be a bad thing?

At the ripe old age of nearly-27, Harry is definitely allowed to have sex, you know? Like all adults. He’s also allowed to sing about it. I have a friend who is a rather brilliant, cerebral young musician (And also an Aquarius! Go figure.) who has songs about sex, because sex is part of his life. Sex, beyond being fun when done right, is also a realm of extreme spiritual and emotional truth. It’s also...sexy. It makes for good music. We know this. So no harm done there.

A Note On Olivia Wilde

In recent days, Harry’s been photographed holding hands with Olivia Wilde. I have a lot of respect for Wilde, both for her longstanding activism and her career. On House she portrayed the first canonical bisexual I ever saw on TV, a massive moment in my life that made my heart hammer with a sense of recognition I was too young to really appreciate.

Yet I can see why the current media setup--including a Vanity Fair piece dropped yesterday--might make some longtime Harry fans nervous. A decade ago, Harry’s purported involvement with Caroline Flack had fans frothing at the mouth. Whether the relationship was legit or not is hardly the question, and, out of respect to the tragic situation surrounding Flack, I wish to speak instead on the hideous media coverage at that time.

So much of what defined Harry’s media image as a teenager was sexual. The world very quickly realized, I think, that he is a massively charismatic person, but the extremely sexualized coverage he received was singular and disgusting. He could not so much as speak to a woman without speculation that they were involved. An exhausting burden for anyone, let alone someone so young and so suddenly exposed to the world’s scrutiny. In 2012 my mother very cheerfully read off that infamous “400 women in a year” headline to me and it made my stomach twist.

Beyond the closeting many suspected was behind this early media narrative, there was also the fear fans held of Harry’s predation. First Caroline, then Taylor--Harry was linked to older women all the time, and as we know, age gaps create power imbalances. Harry was still a teenager. It all seemed wrong.

So perhaps the Wilde thing chafes, as we remember these wounds of old. Two things to consider, however:

1) Harry is no longer any sort of child. He’s an adult man with a career that he has made conscious efforts toward maintaining. Time has ruled that none of his fame was an accident or mistake. He has chosen this path, treacherous though it may be, and that’s worth respecting.

2) Essentially, he and Olivia Wilde are peers. For one, they’re co-stars, but they’re also both household names, both wealthy beyond imagining, both seemingly secure in their image and personhood. This is pure speculation, but I suspect they have a bit of an intellectual connection, whatever else they are.

It is not so unheard of that a person in their mid/late-20′s might date someone in their 30′s, especially if they share a career and relative position in society. The world is very large and full of people, and finding a person you connect with is a brilliant feeling. If that’s what they have, these two adult peers, then fantastic. And if it’s PR for the film they’re in together? Wouldn’t be the first time. Wilde is admittedly gorgeous. Who better to offer her their arm than a handsome man who cut his teeth as a young lothario?

And Yet...

The womanizer image, grafted onto Harry in his days of earliest fame, has never sat right againsthsi skin. We certainly talk about it enough around these parts: Harry Styles starts each day with a glass of antioxidant rich Respect Women Juice, yet media (and many fans) would have you believe he wakes up, sees a lamp shade that looks like a boob, and just starts wacking it. If media was reality, Harry would have to be a bedridden compulsive to keep it up.

Now, one can respect women and still have sex with a lot of them. Promiscuity is not inherently evil or immoral or filthy or wrong. Really, for me the question becomes, “How comfortable are you, dear HStyles fan, with speculating on the amount of sex he has?”

We are all a little bit complicit in Harry’s sexualization through the years. Some of it is less okay than the rest. I’m not here to decide for you, but hopefully it’s become clearer over time what is and is not creepy, what is and is not invasive, what would and would not make Styles himself lose sleep if he knew it existed with his name attached.

The media, writ large, is more broadly complicit in this sexualization. In 2011, Alan Carr interviewed 1D for Chatty Man and--having already confirmed which of the boys was 18 and old enough to drink--begins to hassle Harry (not yet 18) about “pussygate,” aka

Black & white for nostalgia purposes.

Listen, I get it. You wanna take the piss out of the 17-year-old pop star, because it’s funny and silly and he’ll be embarrassed but cool about it probably. You wanna tease him. Because he’s a kid.

On their next interview with Alan Carr, Harry is once again addressed on sexual terms--”Harry, give us your gravy!”--that are playful but also pointed. By age 18, Harry had dealt with this for years.

Hi, Watermelon Sugar

Harry is not the only musician, not even the only member of the band, to have their personal life made a public topic. Superstardom in the 21st century is invasive to the highest degree. But it seems peculiar that the specter of hyper-sexualization chases Styles most everywhere, despite the decidedly non-sexual accolades and regard his career has gathered in the last five years, and despite the lack of flagrant behavior.

Perhaps this specter hangs on because of Harry’s emotional and sensual approach to music--I mean, he does talk about fruit juice a lot, and fabric, and flowers. In an interview with Zane Lowe, the friendly, stoney mood is momentarily dampened by Lowe’s assumption that Watermelon Sugar is about oral sex.

“Everyone’s kind of figured out what it is about, the joys of mutually appreciated oral pleasure. That’s what everyone’s saying,“ Lowe tacks on defensively.

According to some, Harry even confirmed as much at a different point. In the Zane Lowe interview, he denies it.

For what it’s worth, In Watermelon Sugar is a post-apocalyptic novel by Richard Brautigan from the 1960′s. The book, a sparse narrative of a commune existing post-societal collapse, has been called “a parody of the pastoral” by Patrick Morrow. “This society may represent what modern man might wish it to be...but the distortion in the new society is also obvious and just as unattractive.”

Harry has confirmed that a copy of the book was present during the genesis of the song. The shimmery, ephemeral lyrics--the fragility of sugar itself, easily melted--seem to hint at a desire to stay in the best parts of feeling while acknowledging that these moments are necessarily short-lived. In Morrow’s view, Brautigan’s book is about reality denial. In my view, Styles’ song is, at least a little bit, about the same.

So it’s not that the song isn’t about oral sex--it’s that it’s about more than oral sex.

Or maybe it’s that oral sex is about more than oral sex.

Or maybe it’s about nothing, and there are certainly those who choose to believe that. Still, it seems a shame that so much of Harry’s image continues to be wrapped up in that of the Don Juan, the Casanova, the Lothario.

Really, he’s more of a Vonnegut.

#harry #womanizer harry #media image #pr narrative #wewithyoursmile #hope this answers your question!

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thestarkerisobvious · 4 years

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The Thing That Lives Under The Bed -- The Conclusion

This it the Coda for The Thing That Lives Under The Bed.

Did you wonder what Peter and his friends did once they got their hands on ALL those spellbooks? Maybe you were curious what would happen if Peter performed the spell of the Kings of the East and the King of the West, splitting Tony in two?

I will be posting one chapter a day #OnHere, in honor of the place where the story began.

-------------------------------------------------------

Adulthood

The Trap and The Bait

In addition to realizing that he is in love with the thing that lives under his bed, Peter Parker and his friends have also discovered an underground library full of spellbooks, spirits calling out to be freed and the promise of any number of superpowers.

You may be wondering what they did next.

You are getting closer to the answer.

The twenty-six year old High-High Priest could have simply run down the path, but sometimes Peter Parker was just overcome with the need to leap around like a character from a comic book. Under any other circumstances Angel would have complimented him. Certainly Angel had read his fair share of comics himself (from Monica’s and Peter’s childhood stashes. Angel prided himself on the fact that he could hold up in own in any heated Bob Keen vs Alan Moore debate) but, at the moment, the only image in his mind was that of a mouse in a trap.

Peter was wearing the same suit that he had arrived home in, the same one he usually wore on Capitol Hill when he was schmoozing senators about the Clean Water act or another EPA bill. The tie was gone, and the shirt was opened at the collar. The suit itself should have been rumpled from his journey through the trees, but it must have been one of the enchanted ones. Not that Peter Parker would have minded in any case. It wasn’t his only expensive suit.

He was devastatingly handsome in the moonlight, but Angel knew that the man was devastatingly handsome everywhere. Everyone thought so.

The weak and infirm flocked to the Lavern Post Healing Center from far and wide. Either they were healed by Dr. Cyprian, or they were convinced by Laura-Bee that it was their destiny to find treatment elsewhere. But all them, every one, commented on Peter Parker and his movie-star good looks. Even Matty, the High Priest, reluctantly admitted that, even though he stayed behind to cast the convincing-spells, it was Peter’s good looks that really opened doors for him when Peter set out for [the directions to the White House.] Laura-Bee, of course, was always happy to tell, in loving detail, about the first time she had laid eyes on handsome Peter Parker. About the day the first met, about how they were childhood sweethearts.

Laura’s super-power was mesmerism, and she didn’t use it very often.

But when she told stories of her childhood, you couldn’t help but feel like you were falling right into her memory. As if you, yourself were walking home from Robert E Lee school, walking down the dirt road, desperate to hold Peter’s hand lovingly and listen to him describe every detail of Silent Spring. Every long-time member of the Post Homestead had heard that story. Maybe that's why every member of the Post Homestead felt like they had been in love with Peter Parker their entire life. That Peter Parker was the only man they had truly ever loved, and that they, too, would be married to Peter if Peter weren’t married to Dr. Tony Cyprian.

And they were. In love with Peter Parker, even if only for a little while. Every guest seemed to fall for him too, if not romantically… well... they all seemed to be a little hot for him. Even the guests that chose to stay in the Abe Sexton Library suites (recommended for all the straight-laced practitioners, the ones who weren’t interested in the Homestead’s attitude toward sexual freedom) lay in their beds and night and fantasized about the devastatingly handsome and dead-sexy Peter Parker. Angel knew.

Angel knew it all.

And Angel was certainly in love with the man himself.

Which was ridiculous, of course. Imagine… being hopelessly in love with the Peter Parker, the man loved by politicians, Disciples and demons. Fabulously wealthy parishioners flocked to him to be rid of their pain and their guilt, side by side with big-name lawmakers from Capitol Hill, all succumbing to his charm and openly trying to introduce him to their daughters. Imagine a man like that even looking twice at him. At him, a scrawny, dirty, sunken-eyed miscreant with a wild unruly hair and a perpetually bad attitude.

Of course, Peter Parker was looking at him now.

His handsome face looked perplexed, taking in Angel, the lapping water, and then the rock. He looked back at Angel, barefoot and trembling at the water’s edge. He didn’t look angry at all, but he did look like a man in a hurry. He was panting a little. Gracefully he stepped down to the sand where Angel stood.

“Angel? Sweetheart… what are you doing?”

“I don’t want to go back,” Angel cried out. Hating the petulant, childish sound of his voice, hating the way his throat felt too tight to speak at all. “I won’t go. You can’t make me.”

“What are you talking about? Of course I could make you…”

For just a moment, Angel saw it.

Peter Parker was a handsome man with kind eyes (and he could be kind, oh he could be so very kind) but he was also a master magician, the leader of a coven of magicians, each commanding their own army of spirits. (Any minute now Angel was expecting Plucky to turn the plants into bindweed to hold him down or Moonlight to appear and force him back to the ceremony with silent, pleading eyes.) Peter Parker wasn’t just the darling of Capitol Hill and a brilliant environmentalist crusader, rubbing elbows with chieftains and royalty and Heads of State. He was also a formidable wizard who had summoned his first demon at the age of 13, a man of incredible natural power, a man feared by mortals and devils alike.

For just a moment Angel saw that man, that other powerful man, flash across Peter’s face.

Then it was gone.

“But I don’t want to make you. I’m not going to give you orders. You’re not my slave. But… but I don’t understand...” His face and his voice was gentle as he stepped closer. “Angel, please help me understand what’s happening. You’ve never run away from a ritual before. We called for you, but you were nowhere. Even Anton couldn’t say where you were. What are you doing?”

“I don’t want to… please. Please, I don’t want to go. I know what the High Priest wants to do to me. I know what Anton is going to do to me – I know what the bones are for. The black-cat bones. The ones you keep in the back of the refrigerator Please, Mr. Parker, please don’t make me.”

“Mr. Park…?” Peter looked completely baffled. He took a few hesitant steps forward, until he was almost within arms reach.

He didn’t look in the least bit out of place, wearing that expensive, glad-hander suit and standing on the banks of the lake by moonlight. But Peter Parker never looked out of place anywhere. He had a very convincing personality.

Angel was almost convinced himself.

“Baby, you’re confused. Why would you be afraid of… I don’t even…why are you calling me Mr. Parker? Oh god…”

He looked behind him at the black sky. The moon, one day passed full, shown down on them like an all-seeing eye. He groaned. “I waited too late, dammit I knew I shouldn’t have. And you’re shaking like a leaf, just look at you…”

Peter reached for him and Angel started to back away, but then his bare feet splashed in the water. He yelped in terror and leapt away from it. That meant there was nowhere else to go, but directly into Peter’s arms.

Peter pulled him close, easily fitting Angel’s head into the crook of his neck, wrapping muscular arms around Angel’s skinny body and pulling him close. There was no helping it. Angel wrapped his boney arms around Peter’s body and clung to him, shivering.

“Oh god, I told them not to feed you but… I made a mistake, didn’t I? I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have stayed in Kenya for so long, I pushed it too far, I’m so sorry. The things Princess Shuri told me were so huge… it was all so important and I thought I had more time. Matty told me I had more time. Amado,I didn’t mean to hurt you. This is all my fault. Please forgive me. I should have taken better care of you.”

Angel pressed his slight body against the firm body of the taller man and held himself there. Against that strength, he thought he could manage to stop shaking. He even managed to pull one hand away long enough to wipe the tears away from his cheek (then snuck that hand up to touch Peter’s face shyly for a moment.) “Did… did you? Get to meet with Princess Shuri at the consulate? Are we going to be protecting the black rhinos now?”

A look passed over Peter’s face, a look Angel had never seen before. For a moment Peter looked… doubtful.

“She wasn’t there to talk about the rhinos,” he said quietly, look away, gazing out at the moonlit lake. “It was a trap. Well… not a trap, but… but Shuri was definitely the bait.”

“She betrayed you?” Angel asked in horror. He would be angry, would be shaking in impotent rage... if he weren’t so surprised. How could anyone deceive the High-High Priest? How could anyone meet Peter Parker and not adore him with everything they had inside?

The strong man laughed ruefully. “I don’t suppose it’s really ‘betrayal’ to lie to a man you’ve met twice because your brother asks you to do it.

“Angel... Shuri and T'Challa are… well the word is “enhanced” now. I suppose ‘superhero’ sounds too childish. But T'Challa is just like me… we both inherited some ancient magic that was a hell of a lot bigger than we ever expected and a hell of a lot more than we ever bargained for. Trust me, we talked for hours. Unlike me, he grew up knowing what he was getting into… but he’s still been given a lot more than he wanted. And just like me…”

Peter’s arms tightened around Angel has looked sadly at his domain. He looked into the forest, across the lake, then up at Dead Oak Hill, bathed in the erie torchlight. “… we just want to be left alone to play Comic-Books with our friends in our own tiny corner of the world that we’re king of.. Unlike me, he thinks he’s ready to join the grown-ups in the real world. I’m not so sure. Angel they want me to…”

He caught himself suddenly, as if he had forgotten who he was talking to. He shook his head. “I can’t really talk about it yet. But it’s big, Angel. It’s really big. I can’t tell the others until I’ve talked to Tony. Which means I have to take care of you first. Look at you…”

Peter tightened his arms again, gazing into Angel’s eyes with a tender look. He brushed his lips against Angel’s forehead in a tiny kiss.

“Angel,” he whispered, “…are you afraid? What on earth could you be afraid of? Nothing scares you. You’re fearless. Baby, please tell me what’s going on.”

Angel looked up into Peter’s face, so perfect and so beautiful in the moonlight. He struggled to remember… he had been afraid, only now he couldn’t quite remember why. There was something wrong with him, something terribly wrong, but now he couldn’t quite remember…

…until he did.

“Don’t let them send me away… please don’t. I don’t want to go, please don’t make me go through the ceremony. Please, Peter. I can’t. I can’t leave you.

“I love you,” he blurted, choking on the confession. He found himself blushing, his whole body flushing at the secret words said aloud. “I love you so much. I know I’m not… I know I’m not anyone… I know I’m just a ragged, spoiled-rotten kid that weighs next to nothing and bugs everybody and I know I’m a constant nuisance and I know that I’m not someone important like a princess or a senator… but I love you. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you.”

Peter’s forehead wrinkled in concern, his mouth hanging open in surprise.

“Angel, Angel sweetheart, do you see? You’re so confused baby… oh can you… oh god how is this happening??

“Angel, how could you forget that I love you?”

Peter’s mouth on his was sweet and gentle and warm. The kiss was tender and loving and everything Angel had imagined it would be. Peter’s arms were strong and solid and he held Angel as if he never wanted to let him go. It was a dream come true…

…and that was the problem. Frantically Angel pulled away, trying to look around him. Maybe this was a dream… maybe Laura-Bee was there with him, holding his hand and telling him the story, over and over and over again, of how she had fled across Lovesick Lake on the darkest night of her life, and there found the man that could take all her fear away just by holding her hand.

But Laura wasn’t there. He and Peter were alone in the moonlight, kissing on the banks of Virgin Lake. Peter was warm and strong and solid and suddenly all Angel could think was… hadn’t they done this all before? Hadn’t they held each other like this, kissed each other like this, on the same night as the ceremony? Was that why it felt so much like a memory?

“Do you remember Amado?” Peter was whispering. “Try… try to remember.”

“I can’t… I don’t… I keep reaching for it, but it’s not there…” Angel said through his tears. Peter pulled him close again, tucking Angel’s head in the crook of his neck and rocking him back and forth.

“This is my fault,” he said, stroking Angel’s hair and kissing his head over and over again. “It’s because I was sick the day of the spell, isn’t it? I was still getting over the food poisoning, I was still weak… god I should have let Matty do the spell but I was too jealous and now look what’s happened…”

Angel was so surprised he pulled back enough to look into Peter’s face. He wasn’t sure what startled him more, the fact that Peter could get sick, or that Peter had been jealous… of Matty? Of Matty… and him?

“I can’t believe how badly we messed this up. It’s always gone so smoothly, but this time…

“Angel… you told us that you had to focus on eating this year. So you couldn’t get distracted by everything else, so you could concentrate on taking care of yourself and making yourself strong. But all we did was make you hungry and miserable all the time, and now you’re dressing in rags and lying to everybody… Angel try to remember.” He reached up with one hand to cup Angel’s cheek. Angel leaned into the warm touch, closing his eyes against the pain in Peter’s face.

“You told us that if we could make you forget about the world outside the border, that you’d be content, and not feel rejected or left out while the others worked. It was your job to stay here, to focus on yourself and to get strong. But look at you. You’ve forgotten what you’re supposed to be doing, you don’t remember who you are. You’ve forgotten that you are a fierce and powerful force… and, god, you forgot that I love you…”

“I do remember, I do! I remember you love me,” Angel said quickly, grabbing Peter’s face and kissing him hard, not because he remembered, but because he couldn’t bear the sound of Peter’s broken voice. He only wanted Peter to be happy, couldn’t stand the idea that he had made the man feel sad.

Peter wrapped one arm around Angel’s waist and pressed their bodies together. Angel moaned at the sensation and willingly opened his mouth to Peter’s kiss.

Maybe it didn’t matter what he did or didn’t remember. He certainly wasn’t the first person to come to the Lavern Center to pay Dr. Cyprian to take terrible memories away, only to be extremely confused afterwards because they couldn’t remember what they had paid for. Maybe he was even one of the wealthy clientele… (but he suspected he was more likely one of Peter’s charity cases.) But he knew one thing, he wasn’t going to argue endlessly about it. Year after year he had watched Laura-Bee argue patiently, then not-so-patiently, as she made her annual pilgrimage to the secret library behind Peter’s office where the reports were locked away. That was the place for everyone else who had benefited from the Memory Therapy, but not for her. She had never even been to that room. Had never seen it before.

Once a year she went to that room, arguing all the way. Once a year she sat down to listen to Monica read all the things that had been written down for her. Once a year she had to remember that she had never been BORN Laura Foster, but legally changed from Hortense Lovelace to Laura Foster-Beeker, the day she turned 18. All because of something horrible that her father had done, a memory she had chosen to give up completely, a memory she never wanted returned.

And he could do the same, couldn’t he? Ask to go to the locked file cabinets to see what he had written down, to see what he had forgotten.

But not just now.

Just now he wrapped his arms around Peter’s neck (and all but wrapped one leg around his waist) and pressed his entire body against Peter’s hard, solid form. He didn’t feel ragged or shaky or hungry when he was with Peter. He felt safe and warm and strong.

Just as strong as he felt during the Great Ceremony, he was sure of it. The one day a year that four disciples were back at the homestead at the same time, Matthew Mark Luke and John, Matty and Sarah D and Doctor Wickham and Monica, each a powerful magician in their own right, each with multiple spirits at their command. Along with Peter and Laura-Bee they would sing their way through the spells, adding their voices to the beautiful, practiced harmonies that the second circle magicians had prepared for the occasion. For hours they would sing until the sky was full of fairy lights, until their spirit-servants were vibrating in a counter melody until the whole forest rang with power and promise. He remembered… how the singing would last long into the night, even after the moment of the solstice was over, even after seals were recast, even after each task was done. How they would continue singing for the sheer joy of it, for nothing other than the pleasure they felt when they stood and created together. How they would promise each other, NO REALLY this time they meant it, that they would come together more than once a year. Reveling in the sheer power that they had when they stood side by side, when they joined their voices together.

The Great Ceremony, that was due in less than a week. That’s why they were saying good-bye to each other. That’s why…

“We came here and you kissed me good-bye,” Angel murmured against Peter’s mouth. Then he pulled away a little, looking around the moonlit hills. That’s who he had been looking for, that was his memory. The tall, strong man was Peter. Peter was holding Angel in his arms. They had come to the lake for a private moment alone before the ceremony. He had been seeing the memory of them.

“Did we?” Peter said, his forehead creasing in concentration even as he smiled. “Oh yes, we did. That was two years ago. We should do it every year. I love kissing you here.

“Angel,” he said, bringing his hands up again to cup Angel’s face. “John and I will study the spell and we will absolutely do it right next time. You can’t ever forget that I love you. Of all of them, you’re the only one who ever says it back to me, and I treasure it. You can’t understand how much I treasure it. It means so much to me, precious. I don’t think you know how much I love you.”

“But you don’t,” Angel said, even as Peter brought their mouths together again.

“You don’t love me.” His arms were too weak to push a strong man like Peter with any force, but he did his best. He pushed Peter away from him as hard as he could, fighting back the tears.

“You don’t love me, you love him.”

“What the… the hell?” Peter stammered, angry and baffled. “What is this about? You’ve never once had a problem with… wait… love who?”

“You love him. You love Dr. Cyprian.”

If he weren’t so distraught Angel would have laughed at the face Peter made now. It was comical.

“I love… Tony? This is about Tony? You can’t really…”

He stopped himself short and shook his head, hard. It was a gesture Angel knew too well… it meant that Peter was looking at a long, pointless argument and deciding to skip past it and get to the end.

“Yes,” he said decidedly. “I love Tony. He’s the first man I ever loved. He’s my Significant Other, my David. He’s my husband, Angel. He’s my whole world, and not just because he’s the only reason why any of this works,” he said, throwing his hands out and gesturing around him at the lake, the forest, the moonlight. “He’s my whole world because he is my best friend, and I HAVE to talk to him… I have to talk to him tonight. I have to make the biggest decision of my life, and… look!” he said with a painful laugh. “I’m here! I’m here, at the center of it all, in the place where I always make the big earth-shattering life-changing decisions! Except he's gone so he isn’t here to tell me what he thinks!

“I have to go back and tell the others, Angel. I have to tell them what Princess Shuri wants me to do and I can’t tell them until I talk to Tony and instead of talking to him I’m standing here arguing nonsense with you. We’re going back now. We’re going back and we’re finishing the ritual and when it’s over you’ll understand.”

“Not yet we’re not,” Angel said boldly, stepping into Peter’s arms and kissing him hard. Maybe he had been fearless once, just like Peter said. He certainly felt fearless now as he shamelessly reached down and cupped Peter’s erection, working it with skillful fingers. He remembered, now. Remembered that this powerful man, the man that commanded all of them, humans and spirits alike…

…this man was his lover. Only a week ago, just before they had left for the Kenyan Consulate, Angel had crept into Peter’s bed and gotten everything he had asked for. And it hadn’t been the first time, either. More than once Peter had given in to him when he begged… and oh… what Peter gave him was so sweet.

#The Thing That Lives Under The Bed #Demon!Tony #Starker #TheWitchwayWritesStuff #Tony Stark/Peter Parker

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currently-underrated · 4 years

Note

Yayyy so, I'm back here! ^^ Honestly, I don't even know how to order these. It's like, I'M FINE WITH ANY BARRIS-MAGDA I CAN FIND. I need more fics of those two. Many many more. But I always try to ask one per one to not stress authors. So... Enough rambling. I'd like some Barris-Magda in the first steps of their relationship, please ^^

I know that this is late but thank you for your patience.

Here we go:

Barris was never nervous attending balls. But this is the first one that he was invited to as a plus one for Magda Ellenstein. She still isn't on the Senete floor like she wants, but she's getting close. He just knows it. He forced his butler out of his room as he prepared by himself for this ball.

It was a simple one that was being hosted by Starr Mayvis in his new mansion after he gave his previous one to Magda for her department store. A simple housewarming was always in order. Starr himself didn't even want to move here, but he was close to losing his status as a noble. Even if he didn't want that either since he very much preffered his life as a mage to nobility.

But Magda wanted to show her gratitude and helped him set this up.

Not many nobles themselves were invited, Xander and Lord Lou were attending but they new Starr as a colleague at the Spire. Then there was Sir Alan, his god forsaken nephew, Juven, and several lower class citizens such as Acting Speaker Linglan, Mr. Blackgloves whom he was still looking into for various illegal activities, and several knights both from Finsel and the Lionheart Kingdom. He also believed that some mercenaries made it onto the guest list as well as some Kangila, like Matriarch Nahr.

He shook he head as he went back to business. He didn't want to wear the same tailcoat, puffy shirt, cravat, and trousers that he always wore when he attended these sorts of events. He wanted to catch the eye of a certain woman. One whom he was currently courting. He had yet another gift to give her tonight. It was a simple dress. Matching his darker pink accents of his coat, with lacy black accents. It fell to about mid calf with several layers in the skirt.

He didn't know much about women's fashion so he talked with Barbara to get her opinion in the matter. If all went well, he would soon be looking for a ring. The thought itself made his heart race as he one again doubled his efforts to find the best loon for tonight. He couldn't wear his bag piping ensemble, nor the marine biologist suit, he could use the coat from when he was Magdas law tutor, pair it with the same pants. Use the white shirt od the bag pipe outfit, with... should he wear a tie? Or go more casual?

Ugh. He just finishes getting ready and ran to the carriage before he decided against it. He could not make a mistake or be late. Eliza might have approved of him courting Magda, but he did not want to get on her bad side.

Magda POV:

The maid was putting together the worst outfits today. Okay, they weren't bad. They just weren't perfect. This was the first Ball she was going to be the main hostess for instead of just helping her friends. He wanted to pull out her platinum blond hair out of her skull,but she did some of the breathing practices that her mother taught her to stay calm.

"Lady Magda, Mr. Barris is here," the butler knocked and called out to her. "He has also brought you a dress for this evening. Madam Ellenstein insisted that you wear it for the ball tonight." Vivian sighed and took to opening her door to retrieve the dress.

Magda gasped. She didn't have anything this ornate or expensive, even with patron funding. She smiled softly when she took note of the colors that Barris picked for her. It was a Wrechy design she could tell by the near seamless seams and the style of lace used. The lace must have come from Rayorca while the silk was from Finsel. This dress looked like nothing her department store sold.

"Beautiful."

She quickly paired it with black ball kitten heels, black stocking that were almost transparent, a rose gold ring on one hand and a simple black band with a small pink gem on the other. She put in her hair a pink ribbon, a black satin shawl to go around her shoulders and a pink fan to top off the look. She skipped the earrings, necklace, or anything around her waist. Since she didn't want to keep Barris much longer.

She made her way to the foyer where Baris was dressed shockingly handsome. Has strawberry blond hair was styled like when he was her tutor, but the most striking feature was how he practically glowed with pride when he saw her in the dress he bought just for tonight.

He made his way across the room and grabbed her hands in his rather large ones. "You look amazing Magda." She wanted to tease him about how she looked normally, but all she could do was blush as she stared up at his handsome face.

"Thank you, Mr. Barris." He kissed the back of her hand gently as he bid the help and her mother good evening. He led her to the Sakan carriage that was out front. She hadn't been inside of this since she was nearly killed a while back.

"I do hope you like the dress. Barbara was a large help in finding the perfect one for you."

"Oh I will have to thank her the next time I see her. She always has a good taste in fashion. I'm surprised that you went through all this trouble for a dress."

Barris sighed. "Magda. I care for you deeply. More than I probably should given our social hierarchical system in place. You being a Nouveau Riche and I being of the big Four Families and all. But that never mattered to me, Magda. You may need to say what others want you to say in public, but I know that you are a good person who stands up for what is right no matter the consequences that occur. Even if that means risking your safety. I love you, Magda. Those rumors of me wanting to marry are true. But first I want to know if what I feel is mutual or eventually could be. I don't mind going out of my comfort zone to make you happy. Relationships are about sacrifices and compromises. Yes you can stand up for your morals, but at the end of the day the two of you are a team." Magda's eyes started to burn with unshed tears. She didn't want to mess up her makeup though.

"I understand Mr. Barris-"

"Barris. You can just call me Barris." She smiles sweetly at the man in front of her.

"Barris. I care about you too. But there are still things that you don't know about me. And I don't think that you should as it would ruin both of our reputations." Barris nodded. "But I do love you too. I think that I have for a long time. And I want to make this courtship more than just that. When you're ready to ask, I'll be ready to say yes."

#helix waltz barris #magda ellenstein #helix waltz magda #barris sakan #helix waltz

41 notes · View notes

appreciatethefoolishness · 5 years

Text

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

EVERYTHING IS JUNGKOOK X READER

Do you also laugh a little when you read a badboy!Jungkook fanfic and want some more realistic? Because we all know how humble and kind Jungkook really is, so I'm here to help you! (This is a list parted in two because of the links limit hih)

Jungkook = badboy

Jungkook = an actually nice and lovely guy ❤️

⌜(m) = smut, mature

(f) = fluff, cute shit

(a) = angst, sad stuff or action

✓ = finished

** = a favorite

oneshot = story with only 1 part

series = story with more than 1 part ⌟

sorted by word count, this is over 90 fics and yes, I know I have no life but I don’t see any problem with that lol

(By the way if you’re wondering why some of the summaries suck it’s because I wrote them due to that some authors don’t write synopses lol)

last updated: 27 May

AND BY THE WAY thank you so much all the writers here for taking your time to write these amazing fics and publish them for our enjoyment! I’m so grateful to be able to read and love them and don’t let anyone tell you different because you all are REALLY good at writing, like damn. Thanks again and have a great Jungkook reading 💙❤️💜 💙💜💚💞💞💞💛💚🖤💜💛💙💜💙💜💚

Animal (m) (a) ✓

[115.9k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8 pt.9

“As a nursing student you struggled financially but when your best friend suggests a way for you to make some illegal money you can’t say no and that’s when you meet him; Jungkook, an underground fighter who you can’t stand but seems to stay on your mind nevertheless.”

THE WRITER > @cutaepatootie

For science (m) (f) (a) ✓ **

[95.9k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7

"Jungkook asks you to let him watch you get off. For science."

THE WRITER > @boymeetsweevil

Falling into you (m) (a) (f) ~ ongoing**

[94.2k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7

"Jungkook’s innocence is like a breath of fresh air in your wild life, and though you know you’re toxic for him, you just can’t seem to stay away."

THE WRITER > @kookingtae

Charmolypi (f) (a) (m) ✓

[69.3k words] series pt.0 pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8 pt.9

“Work and pleasure should never be combined — or so the saying goes. But you were never really one to follow the rules in their entirety and neither were the ones around you. Love, lust, interest. Five people. In the workplace. What could go wrong? Everyone just wants to get something, after all.”

THE WRITER > @njssi

The Turning Test (f) (m) (a)~ongoing**

[67.3k words] series masterlist

“’The Turing Test, developed by Alan Turing in 1950, is a test of a machine’s ability to exhibit intelligent behavior equivalent to, or indistinguishable from, that of a human.’ Jungkook fiddled with your hands in his, humming softly, as if deep in thought. You noted the way his eyebrows had furrowed, the sweet way his lips formed a pout, and wondered what could possibly be troubling him so much. What had he learned today? ‘Creator,’ he began, dragging his gaze up to meet your own, ‘you gave me a mind that thinks, hands that feel, and a heart that beats, but did you give me a soul?’“

THE WRITER > @fortunexkookie

Bandslam (a) (m) (f) ✓

[59.6k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

“Cocky drummer Jeon Jungkook has never been the type to hate on anyone. But when his best friend Taehyung unexpectedly leaves the band and leaves you in his place, he can’t really blame himself when he acts with disdain towards you. Not even when there’s a prize at stake.“

THE WRITER > @ironicarmy

Ego (f) (m) ~ ongoing **

[59.4k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6

“What’s a girl to do when her sweet, innocent baby lab partner isn’t quite so sweet and innocent? well, he’s a grown-ass man, and you’re about to learn that the hard way.”

THE WRITER > @suga-kookiemonster

Givenchy & gold (m) ✓

[59k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

“You’re the supervisor of the clothing department with a lot of useless lingerie knowledge, Jungkook is the jewelry department’s defiant hot boy who flirts in wristwatch brands. basically an upscale retail au, but with lots of implied under-the-counter sex. and when an opportunity presents itself to fuck each other in the boss’s office after hours, you’re both too hot for each other to say no.”

THE WRITER > @prolixitae

Wanted (f) (a) (m) ✓**

[56k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6

“ You were a deserter, a renegade, a wanted “criminal”. It was never in your plans to crash land on that planet, and it most certainly wasn’t in your plans to fall in love with it’s handsome ruler.”

THE WRITER > @jincherie

One thing right (a) (f) (m) ✓**

[55k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8 pt.9

“‘i’ve been wrong about a million times, but i’ve got one thing right.’

or, desperate to get your ailing mother into the best care possible, you ask your childhood friend turned enemy to marry you for his health insurance benefits. the only problem is it’s illegal. and he’s the sheriff. and you swore to hate him since the day he broke your best friend’s heart.”

THE WRITER > @hobios

(Y)our name (a) (f) (m) ~ ongoing**

[54k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5

“It's always been the two of you since you were little. People came and went in your lives and Jungkook didn't mind until you turn into grown-ups and he starts to mind a bit too much.“

THE WRITER > @jjkpls

True care (m) (f) (a) ~ ongoing **

[53.8k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7

“Your (endearingly) shy bodyguard- hired by your father- would do anything for you. Even though you roll your eyes at his persistence and pretend there’s no need for him to follow you to every and any place you go, there might be many more hazards in your life than you let on. And you might end up needing him in more ways than you- or your father- would ever think.”

THE WRITER > @joonsgalaxy

Moonlight melody (f) (a) ✓

[51k words] series pt.1 pt.2

“When your loving best friend playfully pranks you one too many times, you decide that revenge is best served hot, over a period of thirty days, and with a little extra help from the best violinist you know (sorry jimin). or, the one where during your month-long vacation in italy with your youth orchestra, you realize that vengeance is sweet but fake dating jungkook is sweeter.”

THE WRITER > @gukyi

Falling Skies (a) (f) (m)✓ **

[50k words] series masterlist

Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely. Once upon a time, she had called you her sun and him her moon; it was fitting, given the constant push-and-pull between you two. You used to consider him a friend, but then he had gone from endearingly frustrating dumb boy to card-carrying fuckboy so fast it had given you whiplash. You often wondered how Jiyeon wasn’t bothered by his behavior. In fact, she often seemed to encourage it. What you failed to see was that she was just trying to show you how he reflected your light. Jiyeon had realized he was in love with you even before he did, but of course she knew. It was a twin thing. So despite the fighting and teasing, you always found yourself drawn back to him. You knew he was one of two constants in your life: the Jeon twins were - and had always been - your one indisputable truth. You were the sun, Jungkook was the moon, and Jiyeon was the sky holding you both up When she died, it ripped a black hole right through you.”

THE WRITER > @fortunexkookie

Bitchin’ (f) (m) (a) ✓

[49.5k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8 pt.9 pt.10

“The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.”

THE WRITER > @kinktae

Paralian (f) (a) (m) ✓**

[48.3k words] series pt.1 pt.2

“Far away, under the sea exists the merfolk Kingdom of Venetus. Y/N is a warrior princess, sworn to protect the nation she loves. Each night she and her unit are tasked with patrolling the ocean, until one night they come across an unmarked ship. The ship carries a dangerous secret which tears Y/N’s ideals apart. In the midst of escaping said danger, Y/N is forced to rely upon a Prince. The Prince of Pirates, whose fate and Y/N’s seem inexplicably entwined. Whether their meeting will end in joy or heartbreak remains to be seen. (A -very- loose retelling of The Little Mermaid).”

THE WRITER > @kpopfanfictrash

Tantalizing (m) (a) ✓

[47.9k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8

“Back in high school, you were nothing more than a nerd Jungkook wanted to deflower, to get a good fuck from. When he sees you at the club, though, things have changed drastically, and his dominance starts to teeter on the edge.”

THE WRITER > @littlemisskookie

Equilibrium; Polyamory (m) (a) ~ ongoing **

[47.7k words] series pt.0 pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8 pt.9 pt.10 pt.11 pt.12 pt.13 pt.14

“Polyamorous relationships are not as glamorous as they appear in the movies. Granted, the sex is better- tangled limbs and wet kisses on every inch of skin imaginable, but not even the sex is worth the mind-numbing jealousy, the utter despair. Because equilateral triangles do not exist in real life. There is no sense of order in human affections. No balance, no equilibrium. You are in love with Jimin, who loves Jungkook. And Jungkook loves… Has he ever loved anyone but himself? On the outside, you smile widely and pretend that you’re perfectly content with this arrangement. But your façade crumbles, bit by bit, every time Jimin goes to Jungkook instead of you. You’re not sure how much more you can take.”

THE WRITER > @tayegi

Worth fighting for (f) (a) ~ongoing**

[43.7k words] series masterlist

“Fresh out of the perils of war, Jungkook didn't think that his task as the newly appointed general would be to look after you.”

THE WRITER > @joonsdiary

The Monogamy Monologues (f) (m) (f) ✓

[42.7k words] oneshot here

“ The year? Some point after college. The occasion? Namjoon is getting married and the Rich Man’s Crochet Club has convened once again. Somewhere between the drinks and the laughter, everyone has the same realization: Jungkook has never been in a serious relationship. In the name of all that is holy (Overwatch and booze), the club’s mission is revived. Now though, their goal is much more perilous. Now, they aim to find Jeon Jungkook a girlfriend.”

THE WRITER > @kpopfanfictrash

The devil’s change up (m) (f) ✓ **

[41.3k words] oneshot here

“Majoring in athletic training means you have mandatory observation hours to perform with every single sports team at your school throughout the year, and so far it’s been going pretty great. However, when regrets from your past cause your rotation with the baseball team to become a little rocky, there’s one star pitcher who says that he can make it all better.”

THE WRITER > @jungblue

Frost Impressions (f) (m) (a) ✓ **

[41.3k words] oneshot here

“Jeongguk is so disgustingly smitten with his new coworker that he ends up making a terrible first impression, and neither of them realize they’ve actually been in love with each other for the better part of a decade. “

THE WRITER > @fortunexkookie

And action (f) (m) ✓ **

[41k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4

“Jungkook likes to film illegal stunts around the globe for his dedicated audience. because of you, his right-hand navigator, he gets to travel to beautiful places he’s only ever seen in textbooks. but in the wake of a mishap involving poisonous shrubbery, now’s a perfect time for him to confess his undying love for more than just videography. or, ‘I know you’re my best friend but I’ve wanted to kiss you since the day we met’ au.”

THE WRITER > @prolixitae

Baby, my baby (m) (f) (a) ✓

[39.6k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8 pt.9 pt.10

"Raise my child, just for twelve months."

THE WRITER > @pjimims

A well-oiled machine (f) (a) (m) ✓ **

[38.2k words] series pt.1 pt.2

"Your life takes a bit of a turn when you stumble upon an android in pieces, hidden in an alleyway in an area known for its shadows and debauchery. Taking him home to fix him might have been the best decision you’d ever made, but perhaps there was a little more to the android JK01-97 than you’d initially thought."

THE WRITER > @jincherie

The lionheart’s oath (f) (m) (a) ✓ **

[36.7k words] oneshot here

“There was no happy ending, no dragon slayer to save the kingdom and get the princess — there was only him: Jungkook. A simple orphan that was lucky enough to be invited into the castle, a former homeless thief that had found shelter in the form of an elysian heir. Now, after twelve years by your side, he was about to lose you to the world you sought to explore.”

THE WRITER > @sugaxjpg

Employee Perks (m) (a) (f)~ongoing

[34.6k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

“Sure, the employee perks at your job were bonuses, life insurance, sick leave, health benefits etc. etc., but the best employee perk of all was working with a man known as Jeon Jungkook.”

THE WRITER > @chiminiemoans

In Bloom/Lake of Fire (m) (a) (f) ✓

[33k words] pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

“One of the consequences of being a werewolf was the yearly heat that took place for three whole days, Jungkook had warned you not to come near him under that period of time for your own safety but your never-ending worry for him made you disobey his request.”

THE WRITER > @tayegi

New toy (m) (f) (a) ✓

[32.8k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

“Your new neighbor turns out to be the perfect toy for you.“

THE WRITER > @btsjeonjazz

Ramen (m) ~ongoing

[32.8k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

“‘It has certainly been quite the party,’ you began, taking a stroll around the table to give his friends time to ogle you. ‘But I'm here for someone else on his special day.’ The end of the riding crop snapped suggestively against your open palm and you felt excitement bloom around the large table. “Now, let me see if I can find out which of you is the birthday boy..."

The charade of finding your fare was one of the oldest tricks in the book. After years of sex work, you knew that as soon as you said, ‘let me see,’ the eyes of the bystanders would point you in the right direction. And sure enough, as you pretended to identify your prey, the men’s line of sight fell on the far corner of the table. The choice of the corner was quite surprising, as you expected the shy wallflower of the group to sit there, not someone who was supposed to be the center of attention.”

THE WRITER > @dark-muse-iris

Gravity (a) (f) ✓

[29.2k words] oneshot here

“The universe works in mysterious ways.“

THE WRITER > @donewithjeon

Not quite strangers (f) (m) (a) ✓ **

[29k words] series pt.1 pt.2

“There are two things that you very much hate in this world; first being woken up in the evening, second being woken up in the morning – and Jeon Jeongguk, the stranger a.k.a the guy who lives across your shitty apartment does just that, every single fucking time.”

THE WRITER > @seokwaves

Rigor Mortis (a) (f) (m) ✓ **

[28.5k words] oneshot here

“A night out at a bar results in you going home with a young and attractive police officer. But if you think the night was something to remember, that’s nothing compared to waking up to find a zombie outbreak in the city. A chance encounter with Officer Jeon leads to him helping you escape from the plague infested city.”

THE WRITER > @readyplayerhobi

Something in the water (m) (f) ✓

[25.8k words] oneshot here

“Sleeping in is a foreign concept to Kim Taehyung and his awkward, mismatched gang of pals. This is made all the more apparent when they rock up at ____’s doorstep at the ass crack of dawn, as if it is a natural time for any college student to be awake. But when she is informed that it was the youngest of their group who insisted she join them on their spontaneous camping trip, she is suddenly not as reluctant to play along than when she was first awakened by her enigma of a best friend, slamming his fist against her front door.”

THE WRITER > @vankoya

Roommates (m) ✓ **

[25.8k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

“Letting your best friend’s baby brother live with you didn’t seem like a problem until well... you discovered how hot he had become.”

THE WRITER > @tayegi

Snow and Ice (m) (f) (a) ✓

[24.8k words] series pt.1 pt.2

“ Three thousand athletes from 92 countries from the world meet every four years to show off what they have, the pride of their countries and families weighing down their perfectly sculpted shoulders. This year’s winter Olympics holds something a lot more interesting.”

THE WRITER > @hayjeon

Ace (m) (f) (a) ✓ **

[24k] oneshot here

“Jungkook only cares about three things: Baseball, painting and his team, but soon he’s adding you to that list when love comes flying at him fast and hard, knocking him right on his ass.”

THE WRITER > @hijoonie

New romantics (f) (a) ✓**

[24k words] oneshot here

“Jeon Jungkook will go down in history as one of the best Quidditch players that ever graced the Hogwarts scene. It seems like he always gets what he wants—his life is very predictable in that sense. What he cannot predict, however, is the newest weekend employee wiping down the tables at the Three Broomsticks.”

THE WRITER > @cupofteaguk

Save Me (m) (a) ✓

[24k words] series pt.1 pt.2

“Jungkook’s a vampire who has an interest in you and you have feelings for him, but he sleeps around with other human girls as well and when you start to get tired of it you cut off communication with him and avoid him so he tries to get you back through sweet gestures and staying with you instead of going around.”

THE WRITER > @baeseoul

Catharsis. (m) (f) ✓

[23.5k words] oneshot here

“No matter what kind of release you need, he’s there.”

THE WRITER > @junghelioseok

Swipe right (f) (a) (m) ~ ongoing

[23k words] series pt.1 pt.2

“Jungkook wasn’t always like this. Or maybe he was and you don’t want to admit that he had you fooled. You quickly discover he has a lot more to offer than exchanging pleasantries and awkward small talk. In fact, he never seems to shut up.For the better part of a year, he’s held your irritation hostage, never passing up an opportunity to deliver savage one-liners at your expense. When he discovers you’re on Tinder, he turns up the brattiness factor and intentionally seeks you out. Who knows? Maybe if you gave him a chance he could charm the pants right off of you. Then again, maybe he’s just a fuckboy.“

THE WRITER > @stutterfly

Hot confusion (m) ~ ongoing

[22.9k words] series (on AO3) here

“Jungkook thought his body had already matured, turns out he's a late bloomer and goes through puberty hell when he turns 16. And it doesn't end until he's 19, the worse part is that all along the ride he can't stop the constant sexual arousal he gets around his best female friend, Y/N.While he's confused whether it's her just her body that turns him on, or also her personality, he can't help but feel jealous when other boys start to take interest in her. All he knows is that he wishes he'd stop having wet dreams at 4 AM about Y/N, he's running out of excuses to his mom to why he needs to do the laundry.“

THE WRITER > @partyjunkie

Blue orchids (a) (f) ✓

[22.6k words] series pt.1 pt.2

“Hanahaki & soulmate au.”

THE WRITER > @inktae

If I told you (f) (a) ✓ **

[22k words] oneshot here

“In order to pay for university, jeon jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself. donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses (to look smarter), he becomes every rich daughter’s dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him.”

THE WRITER > @gukyi

➔PART 2

➔PART 3

(Disclaimer; if you ever find a badboy!jungkook fic here it means he wasn’t a total asshole in it and I didn’t mind his character lol)

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #BTS jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fic rec #bts fanfction #bts #bts x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic

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jokerasylum91 · 5 years

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Aladdin (2019) thoughts *Minor spoilers*

Growing up Aladdin was one of my favourite disney movies behind Beauty and the Beast, I loved the action, the comedy and of course the music. Not to mention the iconic robin williams performance as the genie.

My earliest memories of going to the movies was actually the orginal, yes for shame i was one of those kids that wouldn't sit still, but my parents always said when genie was on screen my eyes were definitely fixed on the screen, i was captivated by this blue force spouting jokes i wouldn't get til i was older but was mesmerized all the same.

With the disney live action remake phase in full swing, the four i was most looking forward to was Beauty and the Beast, The Lion King (which is next) and the eventual little mermaid one, and of course aladdin, i thought it would look dazzling in live action as the costumes in the original and the set pieces are so iconic. I'll try not to go into major spoilery details too much but i do want to give thoughts on the new additions and the characters compared to their originals.

Aladdin - I thought Mena was great in the lead role, i loved his sincerity and charm, definitely lived up to the story arc of being a diamond in the rough, whose worth lies far beyond what is on the surface, I liked the slightly different direction they went with his character, as in the original he was still confident and cool being more 90's based (he was designed after tom cruise) i thought he was better written in the remake as he wasn't as confident and cool, at times being really awkward, he still has those cool moments and charm but the story of aladdin was being confident in yourself and being yourself rather than being an act which i thought they did better with the prince ali section here. Mena's singing was great too, he really emulated brad kane's voice and vocal performance. I loved his relationship/bond with abu who was also adorable.

Jasmine: Wow, just wow, thats all that i can say to describe how much i enjoyed Naomi Scott as Jasmine from her dazzling costumes, to her amazing singing performances. I always liked Jasmine because i felt she like belle wasn't after the traditional tropes of finding a handsome prince, Jasmine wanted to forge her own path and not have her life decided for her. She was confident and determined to marry for love and not just because of the established laws. In the remake they take a slightly different turn where she wants to live up to the standard set by her mother and do what is best for the people, she reaches a point where like the original where she is fed up with having her voice not be heard which leads into a powerful new song called "Speechless" that i cannot stop gushing over. A message that everyone can relate to, her performance was definitely a gamechanger and i look forward to seeing what she does next. I loved the addition of her handmaiden Dahlia aswell who provided genuine laughs. Nasim Pedrad had great chemistry with the other cast members.

Genie: The biggest question was how Will Smith would do in the shoes of Robin Williams, i think he did great, i mean its a different take so he doesn't do as many impressions as Robin did but in saying that, the original was written with robin's standup in mind, so genie in the original was as much robin as he was their genie. Will brings what makes him Will Smith he had the same heart that the role needed while also being fresh, i definitely saw a bit of the broadway version in his performance while also being will's own take. Like he has been a genie for 10000 years and served so many masters that he has his craft down to a T, I think the only thing i was expecting was more references to other disney movies, i like Will's comedic timing and playing the straight man to the awkward humor scenes. I thought his performance of "Friend Like Me" was great, it was one of the scenes i was looking forward to the most cause obviously his singing was a big part of my childhood with fresh prince, men in black and wild wild west. Will was cool, charming, sarcastic, but also charming, likeable with lots of heart.

Jafar and Iago: This is where i think it will devide alot of viewers because this is a different take on Jafar compared to his manic incarnation by Jonathan Freeman. In the remake he is more of a dark version of aladdin, brought up on the streets as a thief but corrupted by power. He wasn't the wise, manipulative man he was in the original, he was impulsive and arrogant overstepping his role and driven by this desire to not be second best. He is of course flanked by his sidekick parrot Iago (Not voiced by Gilbert this time but by voice actor and all around amazing Alan Tudyk) he doesn't speak full sentences like he does in the original but he does give off the impression he is highly intellegeant offering sarcasm, wit, one liners and piecing together plot elements by being Jafar's eyes and ears in the castle. While i was disappointed there was no giant snake (Seriously disney how could u miss that) showdown, i thought the final act was satisfying while still working with what had been established. Like i said a differnt take on Jafar but i think it worked for this movie as his motivations/ideals for leadership clash with Jasmine's which creates a powerful moment for Jasmine.

The Music: One section where the remake absolutely shines was the music, all the classics are here and they sounded amazing, i love how each of them have more arabic sound to them, Alan Menken really outdid himself with the instrumentals, it gives all the songs more weight, my favourites were "One Jump Ahead" and obviously "A Whole New World", Naomi was born to sing that. I loved Arabian Night's update as i never really liked the original lyrics, like i get it was a product of the time but still change is good. Speaking of which i did like the little tweaks to the lyrics, just subtle changes to them but still keeping what made them classic.

The Costumes: The costumes were fabulous, i loved the respect shown and the delicate nature of the costumes, Jasmine's in particular were amazing.

Final Verdict: I think people will be pleasantly surprised, i know through the marketing it was very ho hum but i do feel like this is a good update to a movie that is a classic to so many.

Even if you were cynical about seeing it give it a try, like the lamp itself it is more than what it seems on the outside.

#Aladdin #disney #Mena massoud #naomi scott #alan tudyk #marwan kenzari #will smith #genie #princess jasmine #iago #jafar #guy ritchie aladdin

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countessofsnark · 7 years

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Snarky Recap - Thunderbirds Are Go: ‘Grandma Tourismo’

The One Where We Find Out A Shitload of Interesting Facts About The Tracy Family, Grandma And Virgil Go Shopping - A Horror Story - And Some People Get Saved By Our Aforementioned Duo. (And Space Trash Helping Out Via Comlink)

Where do I begin? Oh right, that episode title wins all the awards, your argument is invalid. Seriously.

‘You sure you’re fully prepared for today’s mission, Virgil?’

‘Everything’s a-okay, John.’

‘You sure you don’t need back-up?’

‘Situation under control.’

‘You’re braver than I am, big brother.’

WAIT WHAT. VIRGIL IS OLDER THAN JOHN? Well. I just fell out of my chair ahahaha.

Dramatic zoom is dramatic.

Grandma: ‘Let’s do some shopping!’

Virgil: (fake happy voice) ‘This is going to be so much fun!’

We are all Virgil.

You can tell a lot about a person by having a closer look at their shopping habits. Things We’ve Learned So Far:

- Scotty likes his hair super shiny. And here I was, figuring Virgil would be hogging all the hair products on Tracy Island. Though that perfect rooster comb doesn’t shape itself, I assume...

- That’s a lot of TP.

- Grandma loves onesies. Provided they're all purple/fuchsia.

Saved by little bro (yeah I’m still getting used to this but I like it!). To the Sahara we go!

I bet their account handsomely provides for this store, lol.

Interrupting this recap for a Virgil Tracy’s Booty Appreciation Shot. I also love the fact that the tool belt looks clunky but actually is perfectly designed for Virgil’s enforced/padded suit, or the way it’s looped around his thigh. Function meets form, ladies & gents.

But wait! Another emergency emerge(nc)es.

Virgil: ‘I can’t be in two places at once.’ Have no fear, Grandma Tracy is here!

Also, autopilot to the rescue.

That moment when Thunderbird 2 takes off, and a power suited Virgil looks up with a worried look on his face.

‘Look after her.’ AWWW BLESS THIS PRECIOUS LUMBERJACK.

Parkour with Virgil Tracy 101.

John checking in on Grandma is all kinds of sweet and hilarious. Sometimes you do wonder if this is a who-worries-the-most-about-who competition.

Virgil being able to remote control TB2 with such precision is pretty damn cool. (Though for his sake I hope he’s not using a Bluetooth link, ahaha)

If you can't come to us, we’ll come to you - a possible IR marketing tagline.

Virgil: ‘Let’s just hope I can do this.’

Grandma: ‘I heard that. Of course you can do it!’

Cheerleading, Tracy Style. Precious af.

‘Okay Grandma, open the bay door.’ I’M SORRY VIRGIL. I’M AFRAID I CAN’T DO THAT. (Sorry couldn’t resist)

Hello Kate, meet the boys’ Grandma. (Meanwhile, behind the scenes, Grandma whips out her phone to show Kate a slide show of Embarrassing Baby Tracy Boy Pictures)

Helpdesk!John, at your service.

So that’s how to anchor TB2 - filed under More Shit We’ve Learned Today.

So basically, they’re gonna sit there, go to the Winchester, have a pint, and wait for all this to blow over. (Also, unintentional wind pun is unintentional I assume)

Virgil effortlessly and gracefully power suit sliding over to the back of the crumbling office. Damn son, you got moves.

The ceiling is lava.

Grandma: ‘Don’t need remote control or auto pilot. I’ll do it!’

Virgil and John: ‘YOU?’

Yeah boys. Guess who taught your daddy how to fly and spread those maverick genes in the first place? YEP.

‘My Grandma says don’t worry, she’s coming to pick us up.’

Construction crew: YOUR GRANDMA?

Filed Under: Embarrassing Moments In The Life of Virgil Tracy. Though cheer up, Virge. Could be worse. Could be the girl of your dreams in that office when you’re telling folks that your nan is about to save the day.

Grandma, while trying to land TB2 over Pod 2: ‘I can do this. I think.’

Virgil: ‘I heard that! Of course you can do it.’

P R E C I O U S A F . *squish*

Grandma Tracy’s pod assembly skills: the IKEA of International Rescue.

Those green dice. Kind of looks like a mix between cute and the dice you might find in a pimp’s ride. Grandma Tracy channeling her inner Macklemore? (Now imagining ‘Thrift Shop’ blasting through the pod’s speakers while they’re on a shopping trip - or, How To Make Virgil’s Life Worse)

‘I’ve never been more glad to see anyone’s Grandma in my life.’ LOL

The Mole Pod has left the building.

This guy is taking gratitude to a whole new level.

How to sell your stuff and be a terribly charming inventor: a guide by Kate. I do hope we get to see more of her in the near future!

Virgil: OH BOY I CAN’T WAIT TO GET BACK AND GET A SHOWER. (No doubt to get dust out of places where the sun don’t shine, poor soul)

Grandma: LOL NO YOU DON’T. WE HAVE SHOPPING TO DO. (And tracksuit trying out to do, which will likely take up 99% of this shopping trip)

We are all Virgil.

First things first. I’m so glad SO GLAD that the boys’ birth order can no longer be contested canon wise. Scott, Virgil, John, Gordon, Alan. And let me tell you that I have no issues with this. I did think John was the second brother in line but to be fair, this new revelation does make sense with regard to the relationship that is established between Scott and Virgil. Here we have the Dynamic Duo, the Space Trash Middle Child, and last but not least, the Terrible Two. Nice. Secondly... Sally Tracy, how lovely to make your acquaintance. *curtsey* Oh right. And that shopping list will never not crack me up.

#snarky recap #thunderbirds are go #grandma tourismo

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calmgrove · 5 years

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Lizzie Ross, co-convener since 2018 and last year’s co-host for Witch Week, blogs about reading and writing at LizzieRossWriter.com. In this post she rightly draws attention to villains in graphic novels, the range of which may prove surprising to those not familiar with this genre.

Yesterday, Laurie from Relevant Obscurity set the tone for Witch Week 2019 by providing us with a list of despicable qualities found in evil rulers. In this post I apply Laurie’s points to villains of all sorts in fantasy graphic novels. Some of these villains are leaders or want to be; others use/enslave/kill characters to gain power or wealth or longer life; still others just seem to get joy out of causing mayhem. But whatever their motivations, they’re all heinous enough to provide frissons of horror.

Watchmen: The Deluxe Edition, Alan Moore / Dave Gibbons, DC Comics, 1986-1987/2013

Lately, the distinctions between hero and villain in graphic novels have grown nebulous, with sympathetic villains and troubled heroes making it difficult to decide who we’re rooting for. Unlike Jadis in Narnia, whose icy demeanor hides nothing more than a cold lust for power, characters like Watchmen’s Rorschach and Monstress’s Maika Halfwolf have so many flaws their very clothes and skin seem to writhe in agony. And yet, neither is a villain. Nimona kills her enemies with barely an afterthought, finding it more expedient to wipe them out than to negotiate or try to go around them. And yet, we can’t help rooting for her, and she is most definitely not the villain of the story.

Beowulf, Santiago García / David Rubín, Image Comics, 2018

Of course there are still many traditional – that is, unredeemable – graphic novel villains. Grendel in García’s and Rubín’s Beowulf, based on the 1000-year-old Old English poem, is as relentlessly blood-thirsty as a reader could wish and, when finally revealed in a snowy two-page spread, seems to glow with internal fires of hatred. And those teeth!

The Shadow Hero, Gene Luen Yang & Sonny Liew, First Second Books, 2014

Ten Grand and his gweilo cronies, in Gene Luen Yang’s and Sonny Liew’s The Shadow Hero, are traditional noir villains, greedy and ruthless, preying on Chinese immigrants to enrich themselves via bribes and protection money, never hesitating to kill uncooperative “clients”. Then out of the tenements comes the Green Turtle, a reluctant hero who avenges his father’s death and then returns to his quiet life as Hank Chu, shopkeeper. The Green Turtle made his first appearance in the 1940s, joining other Marvel heroes to fight Axis spies, and in their 2014 prequel, Yang and Liew propose an origin story for this superhero – a “tiger mom” and an ancient spirit provide the push, and the superpower, that turn Hank into the Green Turtle.

Norroway: Book 1 The Black Bull of Norroway, Kit & Cat Seaton, Image Comics, 2018

Drawing on traditional tales such as Beowulf and well-known fairy stories often results in archetypal heroes and villains. But not always. Sisters Kit and Cat Seaton collaborate as author and illustrator of Norroway: The Black Bull of Norroway, a graphic version of a Scottish fairy tale. The Seatons give us the heroine Sibylla, a stubborn and angry teen fated to marry a bull. At first, we suspect the bull itself – huge and stubborn and easily riled – might be the villain, except that we soon recognize that Sibylla will eventually fall in love with her bull. But before that can happen, she loses him. That’s how Book 1 of this proposed trilogy ends – the subsequent volumes will follow Sibylla on her search and, no doubt, let us know what Brom the Bull is doing in the meantime.

So who, then, is the villain in the Seatons’ tale? Is it Brom’s father, who used his children to lengthen his own life? Is it the Old One who caused Brom’s taurine metamorphosis? Or could it be Sibylla herself, who, as a typical teen, resents every burden placed on her and throws periodic destructive tantrums? Only the first volume of this series has been published, so I have no answers yet. Cat Seaton’s dark and muted palette for her illustrations sets a somber tone, making me wonder if the expected happy ending might not arrive after all. We’ll see.

Blackbird: Book 1 The Great Beast, Sam Humphries / Jen Bartel, Image Comics, 2019

Sam Humphries and Jen Bartel in Blackbird give us another angry teen story, set in a modern LA troubled with territorial violence. Cabals of Paragons (magical zombies who look really good for dead people) fight each other for power and new recruits. Nina Rodriguez, the pill-addicted heroine, gets caught up in the battles when her sister is kidnapped by a giant tiger-like beast. Nina’s mother is dead, her alcoholic father AWOL – so Nina’s on her own to rescue her sister. Who can she trust? The handsome flashy guy from the Zon Cabal, or the gorgeous punk blonde from Iridium? As with other villains discussed so far, the evil-doers here seem to be motivated by lust for power. But there’s much still to be revealed as Nina’s tale unfolds, with surprise appearances and the usual plot twists.

Nimona, Noelle Stevenson, Harper Collins/Harper Teen, 2015

Noelle Stevenson’s Nimona began life as a web comic. Dedicating her book “To all the monster girls”, Stevenson turns heroic and villainous archetypes on their heads. The eponymous protagonist, a chubby girl with a punk haircut, talks her dark idol, the evil Lord Ballister Blackheart, into letting her be his sidekick. “Every villain needs a sidekick.” An orphan with shape-shifting powers, Nimona wants to kill all Blackheart’s enemies, who include Sir Ambrosius Goldenloin (Stevenson isn’t coy with her characters’ names), and manages to kill several of them and destroy a lab on her second day of work – to the dismay of Lord Blackheart, who doesn’t believe it’s necessary to kill anyone just to defeat his enemy. Nimona reluctantly falls in line, but we know there’s more mayhem in her future.

Yes, this is a comedy, and yes, from the start there’s no doubt who the real bad guys are. But Nimona’s actions remind us of a few questions for which there are probably no answers: Can you be a hero if you kill people without regret? Is collateral damage ever justifiable? Is it okay to do the right thing for the wrong reasons? Nimona sets the tone within the first few pages: “We’re villains!” she says to Blackheart. “Villains kill people sometimes!” Later, when he protests her love of violence, she points out, “No one’s ever going to take you seriously if you’re too afraid to kill anyone.” She takes “villainy” seriously, and we can only laugh as we see her unintentionally allied with the good guys. She seems always to be doing the right thing for the wrong reason, even if she’s overly bloody in the process.

Black Panther: A Nation Under Our Feet, Ta-Nehisi Coates and Brian Stelfreeze, Marvel Comics, 2016

As with Nimona, moral ambiguity underlies Black Panther, Watchmen, The Sandman, and Monstress, but all four are serious graphic novels, about who should hold power over the rest of us, and whether anything justifies such power. In Monstrous and The Sandman, that power guarantees longer life; in Black Panther, it leads to increased wealth. And in Watchmen, that power allows one man to create his version of Utopia. He wants a better world, but he doesn’t care who dies to get us there. In all of these, the heroes and heroines are constantly faced with choices – what does each fight demand of them? What are they willing to give up, or compromise, in order to win? Only Black Panther, the rightful ruler of Wakanda, escapes with the least compromised principles, but early on his father tells him, “You’re a good man, with a good heart, and it’s hard for a good man to be king.” It’s a warning to us all.

The Sandman, Neil Gaiman /Sam Kieth / Mike Dringenberg / Malcolm Jones III VertigoComics, 1988-89/2010

Monstress, Marjorie Liu / Sana Takeda Image Comics, 2016-2018

To round out this list to an even 10, I close with Shaun Tan’s lovely and enheartening The Arrival, a wordless picture book about the wrench of leaving home for a new life elsewhere. There are no villains in this book, unless you want to count the challenges of being a poor immigrant in a new country whose language you don’t know and whose wife and child are still in the old country. But the story is glorious, with otherworldly sepia-toned artwork. Monstrous tentacles twine around the stone buildings and through the streets and skies of a town in the old country. The new country is like something out of Hieronymus Bosch, full of steaming smokestacks, pyramidal skyscrapers, giant beasts (harmless, mostly), and teeming streets. Terrifying because it’s all so strange. Each page needs several minutes to examine. Perhaps most revealing of Tan’s intent here are the endpapers – 60 passport-like “photos” of people of all ethnicities. These, Tan seems to be saying, are the citizens of the new world; get used to it.

The Arrival, Shaun Tan, Arthur A. Levine Books, 2006

I’ve had fantastic fun re-reading old favorites and discovering new graphic authors and artists for this year’s Witch Week. Have I inspired you to pick up one or two of these books, or at least to tell me about your own favorite graphic novel villains? Let me know. And HAPPY WITCH WEEK!

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Lizzie Ross

Hopefully Lizzie has persuaded you that graphic novels have a wider range of villains than conventional wisdom claims for the comics genre!

#WitchWeek2019 Day 2: Graphic Villainy Lizzie Ross, co-convener since 2018 and last year's co-host for Witch Week, blogs about reading and writing at…

#WitchWeek2019 #graphic novel #Lizzie Ross #Villains #Witch Week

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