#William Nigh

[weirdlookindog]

Anne Gwynne and Ray Corrigan in The Strange Case of Doctor Rx (1942)

[gatutor]

Anna May Wong "Lady from chungking" 1942, de William Nigh.

[schlock-luster-video]

On May 22, 1945, The Ape debuted in Barcelona, Spain.

[thewarmestplacetohide]

Dread by the Decade: Mystery House

👻 You can support me on Ko-Fi! ❤️

½

Plot: After desecrating a Hindu temple, a drunken archeologist is cursed to be hunted by a gorilla.

Review: This muddled story is further weighted down by bad performances, atrocious pacing, failed comedy, and racism.

Source Material: The Ape by Adam Hull Shirk Year: 1934 Genre: Occult, Creature Feature, Horror Comedy Country: United States Language: English Runtime: 1 hour 2 minutes

Director: William Nigh Writer: Albert De Mond Cinematographer: Archie Stout Editor: Carl Pierson Cast: Ed Lowry, Verna Hillie, John Sheehan, Brandon Hurst, Joyzelle Joyner

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Story: 1.5/5 - The premise is obtuse and racist, made all the more confusing by its bad pacing. Who characters are and how they relate to each other is often impossible to decipher, and almost nothing is shown, with scene after scene consisting of boring exposition.

Performances: 1.5/5 - School theater level line delivery. No one has the charisma or timing for comedy.

Cinematography: 2/5 - A few interesting shots are tempered by an overall blandness.

Editing: 1.5/5 - Sometimes scenes cut too soon, further muddying the plot.

Sets: 2/5 - Cheap and sparsely dressed.

Costumes, Hair, & Make-Up: 2/5 - A combination of boring, cheap, and racist.

Trigger Warnings:

Mild violence

Brownface

Inaccurate, racist portrayal of Indian culture and Hinduism

Animal death

[letterboxd-loggd]

Across to Singapore (1928) William Nigh

May 28th 2023

[twittercomfrnklin2001-blog]

I Wouldn't Be in Your Shoes

William Nigh opens his film noir I WOULDN’T BE IN YOUR SHOES (1948, TCM) with an impressive long shot of convicts waiting for their cell doors to open. Then Mark Stengler’s camera starts low on one death row cell before panning up to reveal a handsome young man and gliding on to introduce the other prisoners, all character types. They stand at the bars staring out in desperation and even hope. It’s a very powerful opening. Then the camera returns to the young man (Don Castle) as the prisoners, in a near-poetic use of repetition thanks to writer Steve Fisher, ask him to explain how he got there. And then Castle delivers the kind of performance you give when you’re waiting for your rich best friend to take you away from all this and give you a job in one of his many businesses, which, mercifully for all, is exactly what happened. He tends to play attitudes rather than objectives. It’s all posing and staring. His leading lady, Elyse Knox, isn’t much better, tending toward the singsong in her more dramatic moments. She, by the way, would retire after marrying football great Tom Harmon and raise much more talented children and grandchildren.

That neither of them can sink the film is a credit to Nigh’s direction and Stengler’s impressive camerawork as well as a whacky Cornell Woolrich adaptation with an overall sense of doom. Castle is an unemployed dancer who throws his tap shoes at some yowling cats outside his window. The next morning, the shoes turn up outside his apartment door. But their prints are also outside the hovel of a wealthy old man (the news report identifies him as a “miser”) who was strangled that night. When Castle finds a wallet filled with older 20-dollar bills, the police trace them and the shoes back to him, and before you can say “ineffective counsel,” he’s on death row. To save him, Knox enlists the help of a police detective (Regis Toomey) who just happens to have fallen in love with her after they met at the dancing school where she teaches. Nigh keeps the pace going so well you may not have time to consider all the plot holes, and the final twist is immensely satisfying.

Toomey is one of the film’s chief assets. His love-smitten flatfoot may be the most complex of the many police officers he played during his career, and he carries it off with impressive subtlety. He even reacts to Knox as if she were one of his better leading ladies, say Barbara Stanwyck or Loretta Young. There are a lot of good character people in the film as well, my favorite being Dorothy Vaughan as a testy neighbor who might hold the key to saving Castle. Of course, the supporting players tend to show up the leads. At one point, one of the death row inmates asks Castle how much time he has left. He responds as if he had been asked how long until his dry cleaning was done. Castle returns the question, and the convict (Bill Walker) invests just two words with a lifetime of suffering. When you see a scene like that, you know someone should be looking for another line of work. And in keeping with my dabbling in future vision, Walker had a long career with almost 200 film and TV credits, including the role of Rev. Sykes in TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD (1962).

[bens-things]

I Wouldn’t Be in Your Shoes (1948) dir. William Nigh

[directorsnarrative]

I Wouldn’t Be In Your Shoes • Director William Nigh

[shadyfiredreamland]

I draw that after reading the book

[weirdlookindog]

The Strange Case of Doctor Rx (1942) - Spanish herald

[gatutor]

Conrad Nagel-Julia Swayne Gordon "Today" 1930, de William Nigh.

[schlock-luster-video]

On March 24, 1941, The Ape debuted in the United Kingdom.

[letterboxd-loggd]

Red Hot and Blue (Red, Hot and Blue) (1949) John Farrow

May 7th 2023

[bens-things]

The Mysterious Mr. Wong (1935) dir. William Nigh

[vxsellie]

TO WASH ASHORE - E.W

pairing. pirate!ellie williams x siren!reader synopsis. ellie wakes on a remote island, delirious and hallucinating as she spots a sea creature watching her from in the sea, your sharp eyes tracing her every movement. already deeming herself to be losing her sanity, ellie sees no harm in calling you over. notes. bare w me here guys idk what im doing, this idea is so random but im trying to do it justice at least ! MCD WARNING BTW wc. 4.3k

ellie williams has lived a life of barbarity and brutality, living among pirates as a woman in disguise. of course, nobody would allow a woman aboard a ship, not to even mention the ship of a notoriously infamous pirate renown for his perfection and flawlessness. so, her fellow crew members know her as eli. a man.

she'd been sailing in disguise for nigh a year now, growing close with the pirates and getting to know life at sea. she's even built quite a reputation for herself ⎯ elijah williams, cruel and callous. captain miller's golden boy.

"avast ye!" a barrelman calls out from the crow's nest.

those on deck turn their attention toward the man. ellie halts her work and lifts her head up toward where he sits, putting a hand to her forehead to block the sun from her eyes.

one of the gunners climbs the shrouds toward the barrelman, scaling the lines swiftly. he pauses when he reaches the top, the two men conversing for a short moment before the barrelman passes the gunner his spyglass. the gunner's eyes widen and he begins talking frantically to the barrelman, both unsure on what to do. ellie watches the exchange from the deck, highly invested in what got the men so worked up.

she hears footsteps approach her from behind and she turns around to face whoever it is that comes to her. captain miller. she instantly straightens her back, the quintessence of respect for the man of authority.

he waves a hand at her, "oh relax, williams. you haven't gotta act so on edge all the time."

"easy for you to say." she scoffs, deepening her voice an octave. "you ain't gotta change to be accepted. you're the captain, you can do whatever you damn well please 'n nobody can give you shit."

"i suppose," he agrees. he then turns the topic around, peering up at the men atop the crows nest. "what're they doin' up there?"

ellie shrugs, "i haven't a clue. seems troublesome, though."

miller hums in acknowledgment, staring up at the two men who grow more and more frantic with each passing second. they hand the spyglass to one another back and forth, taking turns looking through it and exclaiming things of nervosity. ellie follows their gazes, turning toward where they aim the glass.

there, in the distance, she can see the formation of clouds beginning to fester along the horizon. its barely noticeable from her place on the deck unless one knows what to look for. but, if she were up high, the sight of such a storm would likely terrify her.

"a storm." ellie says.

miller turns to look at her, a brow raised. "come again?"

"that's what they're lookin' at." she explains, meeting his gaze with her brow knitted. "a storm is brewin' out there and we're heading directly into it."

miller doesn't need any proof of this, believing ellie without hesitation. and, within mere minutes, of her declaration, he's appointed roles and tasks to each of the two hundred crew members aboard. gunners are tasked with moving the ballast and heavy barrels into the hull; the pilot is given a stern talking-to on how best to handle this situation; the riggers are told what to do and which lines to pull.

ellie, being the quartermaster, is tasked with keeping the crew at bay. miller tells her she needs to keep them calm and level-headed, give them hope and whatnot. she nods, hurrying to do just that.

as they near the looming clouds, the sea grows angered. waves come up over the taffrails, soaking into the floor of the deck. the winds pick up, forcing the riggers into action. she alternates between people, assuring them that they're doing well and they'll make it through this. however, as she watches the storm grow nearer, she isn't quite so sure of that herself.

she sees a group of brutes, standing around without a role yet. she approaches them with her hands on her hips and a hardened expression on her face. "the fuck are you doin'!? batten down the hatches!" she orders. instantly, the men rush into action, tying things down and putting things away for the coming weather.

ellie's heart beats frantically in her chest as rainfall begins to drench her. she pulls her hat farther over her face, making sure that her hair is all tucked away and her coat remains loose.

the sea grows in her rage, throwing massive waves over the bow. crew members begin to lose faith, their minds descending into despair. ellie tries to keep them at bay for the most part, but it's fruitless. their hopelessness is no longer malleable. she curses under her breath, knowing exactly why miller appointed her this role ⎯ if the pirates lose hope, they won't work as efficiently at their jobs. even if wreckage is inevitable, they'd at least have a chance.

she glances around, the gunners breathing quick as they shakily trek back and forth. the riggers grow fatigued in their mission of manning the sails, the pilot grips the wheel tightly but not confident enough. the ship teeters on the waves, thrashing around with each one.

"fuck," ellie mutters, wiping salt water from her eyes as she rushes to the helm. she ascends the stairs and approaches the pilot with as kind as gaze as she can muster whilst so irritated. "okay listen," she says, causing the pilot to turn to her with wide eyes.

"elijah?" the pilot questions, "what're ya doin' up here? go help the others."

"won't be able t' help the others if ya crash the ship." she points out. "move, let me steer."

the pilot appears reluctant, but eventually gives in and moves. ellie takes the wheel, flexing her fingers against the wooden material. the feel of the wheel in her hands is comforting, reminding her of how she first began as a pirate ⎯ a small pilot who blended into the background for months.

she tips her head at the pilot, wondering why the hell he's still standing there. "go help the gunners, tar."

"oh, uh⎯" he nods quickly, "yes, sir!"

with that, he scurries off to assist those in need. ellie watches from the helm as he bustles about, seeking out those who need an extra hand. once she's sure he's doing as he was told, she averts her attention back to the task at hand.

the waves are growing by the second, more and more water taken over the bow. a few of the swabbies dumping buckets of seawater overboard. she spins the wheel, hard. the ship swerves to the right, hitting the next comber at an angle. a few of the pirates stagger on their feet or fall over, but nobody falls overboard so ellie counts that as a win.

her change in angle allows the ship to take in far less water. the crew members will need to embrace their sea legs a bit more, but overall the damage is now far less. a few of the pirates whip their head in her direction, knowing their previous pilot would never have the balls to whip the wheel so hard. when they see ellie "elijah" at the helm, many of them seem relieved, knowing she's a great pilot. if anybody can aid them in survival, its her.

this goes on a few more times, yanking the wheel hard to the side as to avoid water filling the deck. but as time progresses and the rain refuses to die down, the amount of overtake grows unavoidable. by the fifth wave, the swabbies are forced to resume their buckets. by the eighth, more pirates rush to their aid.

ellie grits her teeth, mentally scolding herself for having not done more despite it being nigh impossible to avoid water overtake. she grips the wheel tightly, tossing the wheel to the side as the ship lurches in that direction. they hit the wave inelegantly, one of the riggers falling from a shroud and into the water with a deafening splash. she ignores it, unable to part her mind from the task at hand.

she hears footsteps bound up the stairs of the helm, rushing to her. she sideglances in their direction, not surprised to see captain miller approaching her.

"what're our chances?" he asks her, bracing a hand on the rail of the helm that overlooks the deck, having to grip onto it to avoid toppling over.

"of survival?" she asks, turning away from him and toward the next wave that rolls in their direction. "not lookin' too good, i'll tell ya that."

"give me a precent."

"about 18." she says with a sigh, the ship overtaking a huge amount of water from the bow, two swabbies getting washed away with the wave. she forces herself not to think about their deaths, tightening her grip on the wheel until her knuckles turn white.

"fuck that." miller declares. "we ain't dyin' out here."

"don't have much of a choice, i'm afraid." ellie tells him, yanking hard to the left, the wheel spinning out of control for a split second as the water catches control of the rudder. she fumbles to regain reign over it. once she does, her chest rises and falls with heavy breaths as she shoots miller a look. "i'm doin' everything i can, but i can't promise it'll be enough. this storm ain't relenting."

he narrows his eyes at her. "what's your name, williams?"

"excuse me?" she questions, momentarily caught off-guard.

"ya deem me fool, do ya?" he questions. "i know you're a woman. if we're all dyin' anyway, at least tell me your real name. you should be able to tell someone before your life ends."

"ellie." her chest feels heavy as she speaks her actual name for the first time in a year, throat feeling tight with the foreign sound of it on her tongue. she blinks water out of her eyes and she tells herself it's rain, though she's not entirely sure.

"well," miller says softly, nigh inaudible over the heavy rainfall pattering loudly against the sea around them, "it's nice t' meet ya, ellie williams."

she turns her head to face him, brow knitting. their eyes meet and she gives him a gentle smile, eternally grateful for his acceptance of her despite her year-long life of lies. apparently, that split moment of distraction is all it took for the storm to hit. while ellie's distracted by the unexpected turn of events miller voices, mother nature decides to attack while her guard is down.

a huge wave swells over the bow, water yanking the ship forward into the sea. ellie yelps as the wheel yanks from her hand, rudder being tugged by the sudden change. as the bow goes down under the surface, the stern goes up in the air. ellie's feet slip out from under her, her backside slamming against the vertical deck. miller's do the same.

as ellie slides downward toward the water below them, she feels a hand grab her by the wrist. she looks up, breathing hard. miller is still holding tightly onto the railing with his right hand, his left now holding ellie's entire weight.

the ship is vertically positioned, the bow slowly sinking into the aggravated sea as the stern is high in the air, teetering unnaturally.

she stares up at miller with wide eyes, her mind reeling at the sudden change in atmosphere. she'd told them they were likely to die, but she hadn't actually been ready to face death straight-on. the feel of powerlessness licks up her spine with a cold touch of dread and despair.

"ellie!" miller shouts, her attention snapping up to him. "i ain't lettin' ya go! don't lose⎯"

his words are cut off by a barrel coming down from the helm and hitting him in the head. the heavy weight of the wood knocks him out cold, his fingers going slack on the railing. they both instantly fall from the stern. she screams as she falls, sound interrupted as her body collides with the ocean. her throat burns, eyes stinging as she forces them to open in the water.

she looks around under the surface, ignoring the agonizing sting in her retinas. she's surrounded by wood and debris and fallen pirates. buts she's looking for one in particular. joel miller.

he's nowhere to be seen.

her heartbeat picks up, her lungs contracting with lack of oxygen. her mind begins to swim, unable to comprehend all that she's lost within a mere few seconds. she feels herself begin to sink as her eyes go dark, the weight of her body being dragged down by the merciless pull of gravitation.

she shuts her eyes, allowing the earth to pull her under the water and towards its core. consciousness plays with her, pulling her in and out of it. not a single coherent thought runs through her mind as she sinks down, down, down,

just as she comes to terms with death, shaking its hand and accepting its sudden control over her, something else grabs her other hand. something soft, a gentle caress of fingers wrapping around her wrist. life.

ellie's chest constricts as she shoots up, the feel of water in her lungs as she gags on it. the feel of pain welcomes her before the feel of relief does. her throat burns, her body is weak, her eyes sting. everything aches so very agonizingly that nothing else really matters to her.

she rolls over, getting on her hands and knees as she coughs and hacks water from deep within her chest. once she manages to level out her breathing enough to form an intelligible though, she realizes what she's on.

her fingers dig into soft sand, the sediment wedging under her nails. she lifts her head, eyes wide in shock. she's on an island, tiny enough she can see right across to the water on the other side. she looks around some more, taking in the scarce amount of shrub and grass.

she huffs out a laugh, disbelief and delirium encircling the sound as it slips past her split lips. the light chuckle soon turns into boisterous cackling, tears welling in her eyes as she realizes she's alive. she's breathing, feeling, living.

through blurred vision, she grazes her eyes across the island, once again taking in the beautiful sight of it. she leans back on her knees, sitting on her folded feet. here gaze suddenly snags on something lying a few feet from her. a body. she narrows her eyes, praying that this island isn't inhabited. but when she recognizes the shape of it, she instantly rushes to its side.

captain miller. joel.

she crouches beside him, turning him onto his backside. she leans down, pressing an ear to his mouth, desperation filling her up as she listens for any sign of life. then she hears it. breathing.

it's croaky and crackled, but breathing nonetheless. she straightens. he's alive. once he wakes, he'll cough a bit and be in indescribable pain, but he's alive. she moves him onto his side to avoid him choking on his own saliva, tipping his head into the sand a bit.

her mind is moving at a million thoughts per second, ellie can hardly keep up with her own brain. she leans back, staring at joel's head as she breathes heavily, trying to grasp what exactly has happened. only an hour ago, she was⎯ wait. how long ago was that? for all she knows it may have been days since the shipwreck. it may have been months. she looks at the sky, hoping to be able to tell time by it somehow.

the sky is clear, blue and brilliant without a cloud in sight. but her clothes are still wet and so are joel's. plus, she isn't starving to death yet, so she decides it's only been a few hours.

her mind races, suddenly stuttering on one thought in particular: who the fuck got them out of the water?

if it were another crew member, they'd be on the island with her and joel. if it were another ship crew, they'd be dead before they could reach the depth of which she'd sank by then.

she traces her eyes along the horizon regardless, hoping she might see a ship or something to point toward who's responsible for this. that's when she sees you.

her brows raise at the sight of a girl so far out in the surf, water up to your shoulders. your hair is wet, clinging to your neck and forehead. you aren't wearing a top, bare shoulders peeking from the surface.

ellie squints her eyes, wondering if she's going crazy or not. the heat is getting to her, clinging to the wet clothes that soak her skin. her hat is missing, auburn hair now askew atop her head. she puts a hand to her hairline, shielding sun from sight. sure enough, there you remain.

gorgeous and luminary in your presence, out there like a beacon of hope amid chaos. water droplets run down your face, sparking like fragmented glass across your skin.

"hey!" she calls out, unable to stop herself. "c'mere!"

you remain in place for a long moment, tilting your head at her slightly. she worries, for a second, whether you truly were imagined purely out of her mind. honestly, how could someone so beautiful be out here right now? in the middle of the ocean. just standing there. it's impossible.

just as doubt traces up her spine, you begin forward.

your movements are languid, almost like you're made of water yourself. the tangible embodiment of the sea, beautiful and mysterious just like the ocean. ellie finds herself unable to look away, a wordless spell cast to immobilize her.

you continue forward, bare chest veiled by your long wet hair. like a fish on a hook, ellie crawls toward you. her jaw is slackened, eyes sparkling. you keep most your body in the water as you near her, lower waist never breaking the surface. ellie doesn't give much thought to it, to enamored by the sight of you.

you stop at the waterline, lying on your stomach. you bury your elbows in the sand, resting your chin on the palms of your hands. ellie stops right in front of your, her eyes wide as they search your face.

"...beautiful..," is all ellie is capable of muttering. you tilt your head at her, slow and steady. she continues to stare at you, awe-struck. the smallest smile manages to tug at your lips and ellie finds her heart speeding at the mere sight of it. you shut your eyes, grinning at her.

"thank you." you say.

ellie's ears perk at the sound. your voice is music, tone a melody. she can't help but yearn for it to be played on loop. over and over until she takes her final breath.

"y-you⎯" words feel foreign in her mouth, nothing coming out correctly. she shakes her head, touches of crimson staining her cheeks. she blinks a few times as she refocuses on your face, taking in every feature that adorns it. "you're⎯"

"what?" you croon, a gentle hum from the back of your neck. she finds herself leaning in at the soft sound, needing to be closer. needing to hear you better. your eyes sparkle at the sight of her desperation, scooting farther back ever so slightly. "i'm what?"

a breath escapes her lips as she stares. "you're beautiful."

"mm," you sound, blinking at her slow and seductive. she falls for it. of course she does, they all do. that's your curse.

"how⎯" she blinks down at the sight of you in the water, having emerged from the surf all on your own. "how'd you⎯"

you tilt your head again, though this time for another reason. you do it as to move it out of her line of sight, allowing her eyes to rest on the tail that grows from your hips. it's about five feet in length, blue and shiny. the scales catch the light, glittering like magic. the fins are translucent, filtering sunlight through the thin material.

she stares at it, unable to tear her eyes away. whether that be to delirium or adoration, you're unsure. so is she.

"i saved you," you mutter, drawing her gaze back to your face. your brows are furrowed, sincerity knitting them with a thin thread of deception. she blinks, the threads blurring together into a gentle curiosity. she leans in again. you lean back. the palms of her hands are now in the water, encircling her wrists with rocking waves against the shore. she continues to crawl toward you. out of mere pity, you refrain from easing back more. it'd be too easy that way ⎯ killing a starved pirate who's been marooned.

"a-and joel?" she blinks, completely unaware of your moral dilemma. she's equally unaware of the way you had been slowly easing into the water. somehow, they never seem to feel the cool liquid around them.

"yes." you confirm, narrowing your eyes at the girl and her soaked form. "yes, i saved your old captain as well."

she exhales, enamored by the information. you take this time to soak in the sight of her. her hair is damp, short auburn strands clinging to her face and neck. her thin white linen shirt is clad against her torso and chest, buttons undone at the top. her heavy brown coat hangs off of her, clearly having been made for a man. her black jeans are baggy, also meant for a male. as are her oversized boots.

"thank you, i⎯" she stammers, licking her lips in thought. "i-i don't know how to⎯"

"hush," you whisper, voice tangling with the waves crashing against the sand. the melody is the same, sediment washing from the shore as ellie does. you lift your hands, cradling her face with cold, wet fingertips. she leans into the touch, her eyes lidded and pupils blown. your gaze softens, "you needn't thank me, love."

"but⎯"

"shh," you place the pad of your thumb on her lips, silencing her. your eyes drop to her mouth, tracing your finger along her bottom lip. she parts them, breath hitching. "i saved you because i was unable to bare the sight of your death."

she doesn't respond, her mind jumbled. you continue, pulling her deeper into the water as she crawls toward you.

"so lovely, so undeserving," you whisper, the water now at her knees, forcing her to stand in the water with you. your hands remain on her face, thumb running along the pink skin of her mouth. she breathes heavily, desperate for more, completely under your alluring spell of seduction.

"closer," she mumbles, likely unaware she'd even uttered the word.

you oblige, the water now at your waists. your tail treads water as she legs continue to inch toward you. she moves forward, never stopping, never thinking, never able to. you stop, allowing to to ease closer. she does.

she braces her hands on your hips, fingers caressing the scales with gentility. so different from anything else you'd experienced. normally, when you seduce sailors, they're lustful and desperate and rough. she, however, is kind. curious wonder strikes her eyes, flecks of love already catching her pale green irises. they remind you of sea grass.

you decide to offer her a kindness before the inevitable death that's to overcome her.

you lean in, the waves crashing at your chests, pushing your toward her. you listen, the ocean being your religion, your beacon of a deity. she does the same, obviously. you continue to cradle her face as she continues to encircle your hips, delicacy lacing her every movement.

you press your lips to hers, your bewitched mind incapable of feeling anything aside from an insatiable hunger for her death. ellie, on the other hand, is seeing stars from the mere feel of her mouth on yours. the way your lips move with such calculated precision, the way your teeth nip at the lip you'd been tracing. it's intoxicating. the taste of you is more addictive than any glass of rum she'd ever had.

sea salt and passion line your lips, salty with its passion. she leans in as your lean away, careful to keep your lips connected the whole way down. while ellie is practically unraveling at the seams, you ease into the water.

the trick here, you've learned, is to kiss your victim. that way, they're already holding their breaths with their eyes closed. you can ease them into the water without so much as a fight.

unfortunately for her, ellie is no different.

she follows your every movement, unaware of how the ocean begins to rise. the way the water begins to clog her ears. you drag her down, filling her lungs with your own tainted oxygen that you're not in need of.

you're now far past the surface, ellie continuing to kiss you despite the way her hands go slack around your waist and her breath struggles to maintain itself. you hate the knowledge of knowing you'd killed such a beautiful soul. but, more than that, you love the taste of her death.

the way death holds her hand all the way down; the way her skin turns to an icy blue that mocks your tail; the way her mouth goes slack against yours; the way her eyes are already closed; the way her lungs constrict.

she dies without a fight, completely uncharacteristic for a woman who'd fought her whole life. for a woman who went disguised as a man for so many years, all of her walls were let down for you ⎯ a mysterious creature of the sea who's name she hadn't even bothered to learn.

and as she does, her last thoughts are of your face and the sound of your voice. she dies with a soft contentment in knowing you were what held her as she was put to an eternal slumber.

if her death could be something of benefit to you, she considers it to have been worth it.

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 perm. taglist : @luvsturniolo @zzombiegirl

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 fic taglist : @juptology @thefirstromantics @flutterdasher @dinakisser

[gardengnosticator]

Affogato.

reader x ellie williams x abby anderson. SUMMARY: Ellie Williams is a perfect girlfriend. Adorable, clingy and just so fucking cute. Her only baggage is her asshole of a coworker, Abby Anderson. The way she sneers, the way she glares, the daggers she shoots you when you meet up with Ellie at the end of her shifts. She's such a bitch. You wonder why Ellie puts up with her... WARNINGS: dubious consent, intense sub/dom dynamics, dirty talk, mean!abby, dom!abby, loser!ellie, pathetic!ellie, unabashed smut (minors DO NOT INTERACT)

It had only been six months since you and Ellie started dating, and what a six months it had been That dry, detached aloofness Ellie carried would melt away as soon as the two of you returned to your shared flat and she would immediately turn into the most clingy thing since side of a koala. The way Ellie snuggled her head into your chest as the two of you lay on the couch with one of her many incredibly lame, incredibly dorky sci-fi classics (though you had doubts “Martian Babes Need Earth’s Mothers” counts as a classic… ) humming in the background. 

Your hand lazily finding a way to graze through those soft auburn locks, Ellie’s green eyes darting up to you in the most unguarded and intimate of ways as your hand found itself snaking southwards, over the defined arches of her back and just daring to toy with the waistband of her boxer shorts and soon the sounds of 50s hamfisted overacting were muffled with Ellie’s nigh pornographic moans and whines as your fingers worked their way up and down against of her soaked folds, her poor hips trembling and rolling, desperate to match every single thrust of your wrist as she sought out that final release to the knot building in her stomach. 

This was a side of Ellie you and only you were privy to. The way her lips curled upwards as she snorts at one of Dina’s patented bad jokes reminding you of the way they contort and smear themselves with your slick as Ellie buried her head between your thighs. The jittery way her fingers clasped her pen, her brows furrowed as she listened to one of her recorded lectures over the laptop reminding you of the times she took charge, had you against the wall cheek first as she whispered the most lurid things in your ear, barely audible over the sound of your own cunt squelching around Ellie’s digits. The way the muscles in her forearm flexed clenching a beer bottle, that adoration of her inked branch moving in time making you bite your bottom lip and cross your legs before Ellie would look over at you, the bass of whatever terrible dubstep anthem Jessie has decided to force upon the party going populace meaning nothing as the two of you make a quick exit for the bathroom. 

At times you almost took it for granted, that you were the only person in the world right now who would see the true extent of Ellie’s emotions and wants and needs. Well… you and that bitch Abigail Anderson. One of Ellie’s coworkers at the terrible, overpriced campus cafe that took up too many hours of Ellie's time for your liking. She cut a very domineering figure from behind the counter, arms seemingly bursting out of her plain black top and those broad shoulders so perfectly framed with her apron, and that damned French braid dangling down the middle of that wide back. It was infuriating how attractive she could be, had she not revealed herself to be the most rude and arrogant coworker your poor girlfriend would be forced to deal with. 

Every time you visited Ellie on her break or when your classes let up it would be a whirlwind of how Abby had told her off for this, chastised her for that, admonished her for not smiling hard enough when serving some apparent regular their whipped cream adorned monstrosity of caffeinated sugar syrup. The way Ellie would talk your ear off about how Abby would treat her to nothing but rolled eyes and casual shouldering out of the way made you hate the woman with every syllable from the poor girl’s lips. You could really tell that this was doing her head in, so you made sure every day after picking Ellie up from work you’d lead her back home, push her head down into your shared mattress, her jeans pulled down to her ankles and her boxers just barely down enough so you could gorge yourself on the taste of her heat, a day’s worth of sweat and tension relieving itself onto your face as Ellie sobbed and moaned and begged for more as she fucked her hips back into your hungry lips and tongue. 

But today… it was different. Your last class of the day had run late, your miserable bastard of a professor deciding that today was the best day to keep everyone behind so he could go back over the course material for this semester that you had already plotted out and carefully crafted the perfect study timeline for but as the high achiever of the class (and all your classes for that matter) you did your best to grin and bare it and let your classmates fill the lengthening air with their meandering questions. All you could think of was Ellie, your Ellie, the Ellie waiting for you to come visit her, grab her by the hands and plant a hungry kiss to her lips before she could even breathe a “Hi” in your direction. 

The split second this agonizing Q&A ended you had your bag over your shoulder and your head in the clouds as you rushed through the halls of your college’s main building to all but sprint across the grounds and towards the cafe. Its withering facade bearing the name of the overpriced spot, “How you BEAN?”, a pun that was entirely the reason Ellie ever put forth an application to work there. The lights were dimmed, the chairs empty and the usual assortment of sleep deprived students were not humming about the front counter which perked your brow, or at least it did until you saw the hastily scrawled note taped to the front door. 

“Espresso machine busted!!! Closed 4 today!!!” 

You roll your eyes. Ellie’s handiwork you’re sure. The note at least though you’re also sure that Ellie would be telling you how Abby would be blaming her for this equipment malfunction. That poor girl. She must be so worried about you being late. What a sorry excuse of a girlfriend you are. You’ll have to think of something to make it up to Ellie for being this late, even though it wasn’t your fault your mind raced at all the possibilities you could imagine on how you could push that girl to cloud nine. 

“Hello?” 

Your voice rang out in the now silent cafe, bouncing off the walls as you made your way inside, happy that either Ellie or Abby had neglected to lock the front door. Ellie again most likely, unwilling to keep your locked away while she had been waiting for you obviously.

“Hello!” 

You call out again, a little louder this time as the resounding silence your last query had garnered seeming to worry you. Normally Ellie would have bounded from the staff room to all but dive into your arms in a circumstance like this but now… geez… Abby must have done a number on her if she was this distracted right now. The silence was almost deafening until you hear something, something that sounds oh-so familiar but also just outlandish to be occurring in this environment that you can’t really put your finger on.

It was however, emanating softly from the staff room, right behind the front counter you had watched Ellie laze over countless times before and so, with your status as girlfriend to an employee you viewed the staff room as open to you as it would be to Ellie and so being the brave girl you are you creep forward, stepping around the counter and beginning to pick up more of the previously imperceptible sounds coming from that back room. 

Huffing. Puffing. Muffled whining and a sturdy, cocky voice muttering what you could most definitely make out as grunting “Shut up… you want her to hear you…” coming from that barely perceptible crack in the door. Your bottom lip was a wreck at this point, your teeth attempting to chew through the damn thing as a familiar warmth filled your loins and a shaky, uncomfortable knot formed in your gut. Both your hands clenched the strap of your bag as you quietly made your way closer and closer to the door, the mental image of what was happening behind it causing your pulse to quicken, your mind to race and a good amount of your organs to attempt to crawl up and out your throat as you lean in close press your eye to the slit between door and frame. 

You swore your heart was beating so hard and so loud it was on the verge of popping a blood vessel but right now that didn’t matter, it didn’t matter because what you saw was your girlfriend, Ellie Williams, doubled over, her hands bound in some makeshift restraint made out of her apron’s shoulder straps, uniform shirt pulled high and bra all but torn so her perked nipples and chest bobbed with the movements of the thick hand that was hungrily grasping at them as if for dear life. Ellie’s jeans had found themselves bunched at her ankles, her Converse sneakers draped in the frayed denim as Ellie’s knees pressed themselves together, almost desperate to force the hand that was riding up between her thighs pumped itself back and forth with a piston-like pace. 

And there, pressed up against Ellie’s back, cruel lips contorted in a perverted smile, her usually immaculate braid hanging ragged over her shoulder, bouncing up and down alongside her greedy, hungry palms was Abby. 

“For all you know, she’s out there waiting for you right now. The good little girlfriend, wondering just where-oh-where her darling, little, Ellie could be. Bet that turns you on, God, listen to how fucking wet you are…” 

The words that slip from Abby’s lips are tainted with a perverse venom you swear you could feel a damp spot begin to grow in your panties, the feeling only intensifying as Ellie’s head collapsed forward, a strangled gasp coming from her throat as saliva pools from those adorably chapped lips. A pathetic, desperate whine slips from Ellie, Abby’s fingers continuing to draw out the most lurid and wet sounds from her cunt as she tries to struggle against the much larger woman.

“I-I’m s-sorry Abby! I d-didn’t mean to talk b-back-God-oh-God!!!” 

Whatever Ellie’s train of thought was, it had been thoroughly derailed as Abby gave two hard thrusts, the way her bicep flexed with the motion caused you to gasp under your breath. Your knees were trembling and it was long since apparent that one of your hands that had been grasping your bag so tightly had found itself hovering just over the waist of your skirt, the tips of your fingers slipping under just enough to cause you to snap back to reality.

But that’s not all that snapped. Abby’s head turns to face the door so fast you’d assume she’d get whiplash but all that greets you through that crack is just that patented, maddening Anderson smirk. With all the ease her physique granted her, Abby made easy work of hefting Ellie up from her bent position, spinning her around to stare at the door with those down turned, fuck-drunk eyes you swore only you could draw out of her. 

“I think we have some company Ellie.” 

The way Abby’s voice takes on a sickly sing-song tone is almost as horrible as the sight of her hand forcing Ellie’s legs apart, her bound arms desperately trying to pry Abby off to no avail as two of Abby’s fingers came to draw agonizing figure-eights on Ellie’s throbbing clit. 

“And I think, you know who it is. Go on, give her a good show now, I get so tired of seeing you two eye-fuck each other whenever she comes in to visit.” 

You want to burst the door down, you want to holler and scream and pull Ellie out of Abby’s grip and tell her to fuck off straight to Hell but instead you find yourself mimicking Abby’s actions. Your fingers having finally given up the fight and slipped right under your skirt, most definitely stretching the whole thing to bits but right now you couldn’t care. All you could do was drag the pad of your middle fingers right over your panties, feeling your soaked folds through the thin fabric as you let out a gasp at the intense burning pressure coming from your crotch as you watched your girlfriend grind and rut against another woman’s palm like a bitch in heat.

“Bet you act all high and fucking mighty once you clock out, go home to her and whine about mean ol’ Abby huh? Bet you don’t fucking tell her what a goddamn fucking irritating little shit you are. Fucking up orders, forgetting to clean out the filter, grinding Colombian beans into the same jar as the Ecuadorian blend.”

Each of Abby’s taunts were punctuated by a harsh slap right onto Ellie’s reddening, drooling cunt. The sound was damp and Ellie couldn’t hold back her squeals, eyes clamping shut tight as she squirmed her back against Abby’s chest. You gasped again, a digit slowly making its way forth and pushing up and inside of you as you watched Ellie’s chest rise and fall and bounce in such a pornographic manner you find yourself riding your finger to the exact same rhythm.

Abby lets out an animalistic grunt, her rough slaps finally morphing into what Ellie and you were so desperate for, two thick digits working their way into Ellie’s quivering hole, stretching her with no remorse or hint or restraint. Ellie’s moan is silent, her mouth and face twisting with a mixture of shame and pleasure as she once again felt that calloused roughness of Abby’s fingers inside of her. And there you were, fucking yourself stupid to this depraved act, the gushing wetness from your cunt smearing itself over your thighs as you worked your finger in and out of you, lungs on fire as you panted Ellie’s name under your breath. 

“That’s your fucking problem, Williams. You’re such a fucking little brat, always lovesick and distracted by your girl. You need a proper breaking in for all the trouble you give me here. All that helplessness and staring into space isn’t cute and neither is giving me lip and thinking I won’t teach you a goddamn-fucking-lesson about personal accountability.” 

Tears swelled at the corners of Ellie’s eyes and you wished so desperately that you had the guts to push forward and drag your tongue over her cheeks to lick them up but all you could do was shamelessly continue to fuck yourself, your hips growing more and more erratic, bouncing their way to meet your knuckle with each thrust making a most delicious squelch as you made a mess of the floor below you. 

A similar fate was befalling Ellie right now, her thighs so perfectly draped with her juices that you made you squirm and moan and clench around your finger as you watched it shimmer over her trembling thighs.

“I-I-I-I’ll be good, A-Abby please! G-God please just lemme c-cum, please, ‘m gonna explode…” 

For a second you could swear Ellie’s glance, her glazed over eyes that were constantly on the verge of rolling right back into her skull made contact with yours. Through that minor little gap the two of you glanced at one another and the wave of arousal and guilt coursed through both your veins but that was quickly drowned out as Abby made another move.

Another finger, three at once now, Ellie’s poor cunt stretched beyond the limits of your favorite strap now (the darling little pink thing that you’d have her bounce on while you watched that adorable bun of hair of hers bob up and down alongside her hips).  Abby was ruining her, free hand relenting from gripping Ellie’s hips to grab at her cheeks, squishing them and turning Ellie’s lips into the most pathetic display of forced duck face you could imagine but God… it was so hot.

The way her dark green eyes could barely stay open, drool and snot and tears so perfectly staining that usually adorable face twisting and groaning under the pressure of Abby’s vice-like grip. You press your body as forward as it dare reach, unwilling to finally relent and push the door and fall into the sweat and sex drenched room the two woman were currently defiling. No all you wanted to do was ride through your own orgasm, curl your finger into itself and press right into that perfect little spot that sends a million volts of electricity straight from your brain to your cunt as you watched Ellie lose herself in ecstasy.

Abby’s fingers had slowed at this point, but the decrease in speed only meant an increase in sheer thrust force as you watched those slick-coated digits drive themselves knuckle deep with each heartless flick of that thick wrist of hers. 

“She’s watching you Ellie, watching you leak all over the floor like the pathetic, little, loser you are and I know she’s enjoying it. So let me make this clear to you, and her, if you’re gonna fuck around and not take this seriously I’ll be your guiding hand.” 

It’s sick, it’s so sick that your orgasm is right on the tip of your lips (not the ones on your face), your finger frantic and everything but the intense drive to ride this high has escaped your mind. It seems the same is perfectly true for Ellie, you can tell when she’s close, when her toned core ripples as her breathing gets more and more ragged and desperate, as her hips violently buck like a wild Mustang, competing with Abby’s fingers to ride out her own orgasm. 

The wet slapping sounds of Abby’s knuckles colliding with Ellie’s puffy cunt ring loud and true and you whine like a bitch in heat at how much of your girlfriend’s slick is going to waste on the floor and thighs as opposed to being divinely poured down your greedy throat. But it was apparent that meant nothing to Abby, nothing but ruthlessly driving your poor girlfriend over the edge, leaving her battered and bruised and totally fuck-drunk on her fingers. 

With a sneer and a gaze that was seemingly dead-set on piercing through the door and reaching into your very soul, Abby angled her head forward, the grip she held on Ellie’s cheeks being used to tilt her backwards until she aggressively invaded Ellie’s slack-jawed mouth with her tongue. It looked swollen and fat and instantly you feel yourself pant and groan and gasp as Ellie begins to kiss Abby right back. It’s too much. 

For you. For Ellie. 

You bite down on your bottom lip so fucking hard you think you might have actually torn it off as your legs give out and your body grows weary, white blots forming in your eyes and your mind draining itself of any coherent thought as the most violent orgasm you’ve ever experienced rocked through your body. It quite literally dropped you to your knees with a loud groan. 

A similar fate is what Ellie endured through she doesn’t have a chance to vocalize just how hard Abby has pushed her over the edge due to fact the Anderson’s tongue was buried seemingly right down her esophagus but that doesn’t stop her from looking so utterly pathetic and drained as her body vibrates in Abby’s grasp. She squirts. Ellie honest to God squirts right there, on the staff room floor, around the fingers of the same, in her words, grade-A-bitch who had been reaming her for mixing up cup sizes just two days ago. 

Abby works Ellie over for good measure, those fat fingers of hers getting the last few ounces of your girlfriend’s juices spilled before she lets go and Ellie collapses onto the ground, curling in on herself as she whimpers in the bliss of her orgasm. Bliss is maybe a stretch. Ellie looks like she’s gone ten rounds with Godzilla the way she’s panting and drooling and hips still trembling and writhing as if the sensation of Abby’s fingers violating her gaping, clenching cunt hadn’t left her. 

Abby stood tall and proud, leering down at Ellie’s still trembling body as she raised her hand to her face, tongue slithering forward to drag itself up and down over those slick coated digits. You could only barely make out the lurid expression of glee on her lips as they suckled down Ellie’s juices. Before you could catch your breath, before you could even get the strength back in your arm to relieve your finger from inside of you, Abby Anderson strolls, not walks, but strolls forward, prying the door open and revealing your debauchery. 

You glance down to Ellie, who has only just gotten enough wherewithal to shift up from her prone position, her head hanging weakly as she offered you a fractured smile, pale cheeks still heavily reddened with her blush and from Abby’s harsh grip. 

“Clean your girlfriend up. She’s helping me open tomorrow morning.” 

With as little care as one would have for a bug beneath their heel, Abby slips her apron up and off her shoulders and drapes it over your head, leaving both you and Ellie in the dust, to mop up your tears, spit and slick from the floor in her wake. 

After what seems like eons, you crawl your way to Ellie, unbinding her hands and allowing her head to lazily rest in your stained lap. Those big doe eyes flutter up at you as you stare down at her, a shaky hand snaking into her hair as both of you began to return to a normal breathing pattern. 

“H-Hope she goes easy on me tomorrow…” 

Ellie lets out a forlorn sigh, turning into you, burying her head into your chest and you can tell she can hear how hard your heart is still beating.

“If she doesn’t… I hope she lets me watch…” 

Is all you can think.