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tintinwrites · 4 years ago

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dulce periculum | Demon!Max Phillips x Reader | Part One

A/N: I know this is a unique AU but that is what I must do!! Thanks so much to @wheresthewater for helping me brainstorm this fic as well as reading it for me!! Cori is always a gem to interact with. ‘Dulce periculum’ means ‘danger is sweet’ in Latin.

Rating: T

Warning: AFAB!Reader. Demon!Max. The big, big warning that I want you to pay attention to is that the beginning of this fic can be very frightening; Max kidnaps the reader, and though his intentions aren’t necessarily malicious, it’s from Reader’s POV and they have no idea what he’s doing, so they’re very scared and intimidated. Max makes a couple of threats. Naughty words. Max is a pervert, as always.

Word count: 4,556, apparently!!

Summary: You’re on your way home from work when you’re kidnapped by a mob boss who wants to hide out in your apartment. He turns out to be more annoying than he is frightening.

GIF credit: thewaythisis

Tags: @zombieaurora @strangelittlenobody @chattychell @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind @beesting77 @thefandomimagines @softly-sad @phoenixhalliwell @hopplessdreamer @buttercup--bee @honeymandos @artsymaddie and open!

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It was late as you made your way home, the damp sidewalks lit by street lights and signs for late night establishments. There were still cars driving by seeing as it was a big city, though fewer than usual, the sounds of their tires splashing into puddles accompanying you on your walk.

Any other people you saw were going home as well or looking around to see if anyone was watching them as they stepped into the seedy strip club. The building sat between a questionable deli and an adult video store; the girls inside were as beautiful as any other strip club, but the owners were sketchy as hell.

These were all things you mused to yourself so you would be occupied.

You agreed to stay at work way later than usual — four hours later, to be exact — and your phone was on about ten percent battery by the time you left. Since your apartment building was only a few blocks away and you didn’t want your phone to die, you were just observing the city streets as you walked.

Everything was rather quiet aside from those puddles being driven through and the muffled, pumping music you could hear when passing by certain buildings.

And yet, you were almost uneasy. You always felt safe in the city, both where you lived and where you worked, but there was something about this particular quiet night that made you tense whenever someone walked by you.

You’d been overworking yourself, that was all it was, right? You needed a good nap and a drink because this was the fourth night you’d stayed later. That was bound to affect anyone’s mental wellbeing.

You kept trying to reason with yourself each time the people passing you didn't so much as spare a glance at you, but you just couldn’t.

You would’ve gotten an Uber or hailed a taxi just to sate your paranoia if it weren’t for the fact that you were only a block away from your apartment. You could see the building and you were just psyching yourself out, it would’ve been silly to have someone drive you the short distance.

There was no reason to be afraid; you were safe, you were capable. The apartment was within sight and you were about to be home.

Movement up ahead at the mouth of an alley made you stop in your tracks, breath hitching like you needed to hold it so no one would know you were there.

When a stray cat ran out of the alley and scampered across the street with some food in its mouth, your shoulders immediately dropped.

You were being paranoid.

It took a moment for you to gain your composure before you continued walking, almost amused at yourself for being scared by a scrawny cat just hunting for food.

Just as you were about to completely pass the alley, there was a tight grip on your arm and you were yanked between the buildings.

You didn’t even realize what happened until your back was against a brick wall and there was a hand completely covering your mouth; then all that paranoia seemed to be logical and you let out a not-very-intimidating squeak as you attempted to shove the person off.

They didn’t try to pin you down more than they were, but they didn’t even budge despite the way you were hitting and shoving at them. When you changed your tactic and grabbed onto their arm to pull their hand away, you couldn’t move it half an inch.

“You done?” a deep male voice asked boredly.

You were tired from working so much and from how hard you were trying to fight him off, your adrenaline quickly fading as you realized you couldn’t get him away. You went limp against the wall and looked at him with fearful eyes, figuring you could at least get a good description of him.

Unless he murdered you.

He was partly obscured by the darkness of the alley, but you could see half his face from what little bit of the streetlight reached him. His eyes and hair were dark, average height, slim, and...he was wearing a suit. Was this some business man who moonlighted as a mugger or something? Did you want to know what he did as a day job?

“Okay, good. Now, do everything I say and I won’t hurt you, okay?” He explained this to you with an oddly lighthearted tone like he was telling you about his hobbies, and you furrowed your brow as you reached for your wallet. “No, no, no. Not that. Do you live nearby? Tell me the truth, I will know if you’re lying.”

The man switched from jovial to threatening so quickly that it terrified you into quickly nodding; you didn’t want to know what he would do if you lied.

He flashed you a smile that might’ve been charming if he didn’t have you pinned against a wall at the moment. “Good, good. Now we’re gonna walk together and, uh...let’s say I’m your boyfriend and you’re taking me to your place, so you don’t have to ask anybody for help.”

What the fuck did he want? You closed your eyes, but opened them when he shook you lightly to get your attention.

“I’m gonna take my hand off now and you’re going to walk me to your apartment. Can you do that for me, slugger?” The name only made you more perplexed by this man, but you nodded in agreement to his instructions.

He pulled his hand from your mouth very slowly to be certain you weren’t going to scream. All you did was pant softly as you stared at him, knowing that no one would come quickly enough if you did try to scream.

Satisfied, he wrapped his arm around your middle and quickly pulled you against his side as he walked out of the alley. He paused to wait for you to take the lead, letting you take a moment to gather your bearings.

You were shaking as you slowly started walking him in the direction of your apartment, trying to think up a way out of this.

Your phone was underneath his hand in your jacket pocket so you couldn’t sneakily try to text anyone. Being at your own apartment would work in your favor because you knew where everything was, including anything you could use as a weapon.

Could you run into the kitchen and grab a chef’s knife? Maybe the vase on your windowsill in the living room could be used to hit him over the head?

A bit of hope sparked within you when you saw one of your neighbors was standing outside, smoking a cigarette; he knew you were single, he knew you didn’t have a boyfriend to bring home.

“Evening,” he drawled as he looked at you, before his gaze moved to the man who was tightening his grip on you.

“Hey,” you said levelly so the man wouldn’t think you were raising suspicion, but you did your best to show terror in your eyes.

Your neighbor regarded him for a long moment before chuckling and shooting him a wink, obviously assuming this was a hookup or something. “Guess I should keep my ear to the wall tonight, huh?”

You wanted to cry as the man at your side led you into the building, looking back desperately until he pulled you into the elevator.

“Which floor?” He shook you when you didn’t answer him, and you reached out to begrudgingly push the number for your floor.

The elevator ride seemed to take forever as you panicked about what he intended to do to you.

He expected you to lead him towards your apartment and you did, pulling out your key and unlocking the door with shaking hands. He shoved the door open and yanked you in as soon as it was unlocked, surveying the room before shoving you towards the couch.

“Sit down.” He walked away as you practically fell onto the couch from his manhandling.

You were supposed to be grabbing a weapon, but you seemed to be frozen in terror as you watched the man peer through the blinds out to the street. “Are you going to kill me?”

He lifted his head and looked at you over his shoulder, his eyebrows raised like you were insane. “Kill you? Oh, come on, don’t be dramatic.”

“—you kidnapped me.” You just stared at him as he turned to face you, putting his hands into the pockets of his pants as he shrugged.

“Is it really kidnapping if it’s in your own home?” He started walking around, pulling one of his hands out of his pocket to touch your knick knacks and things.

“Okay, you’re...holding me hostage then.” You watched him warily and with a hint of bemusement at his antics.

“Listen, pal.” He plopped down on the couch and, able to move now, you slid away from him. “I need a place to hide out. Sorry I scared you or whatever, but let’s be honest, would you have listened to me if I said I needed to stay with you?”

You would’ve brushed him off as someone looking for a hookup or a person to sponge off of if he asked to stay with you, but that didn’t mean he should’ve kidnapped you.

“I’m not letting you ‘hide out’ here.” You let out a gasp when he immediately grabbed onto your face and forced you to look at him, his eyes dark.

“I’m not going to kill you, but you should know that I can.” His voice was deeper when he was threatening you, but then he went right back to a beaming smile as he let you go like he hadn’t done a thing. “Anyway, I’m Max. What’s your name?”

Years of politeness had you stuttering out your name despite this ‘Max’ guy being an actual fucking madman. Now that you could see him in the light, you were almost certain that you’d seen him somewhere before…

He seemed to notice the curiosity in your eyes as he leaned back into the couch, looking rather smug. “Max Phillips.”

It took about seven seconds for you to connect his name and face with the articles you read and the stories you heard; you moved off the couch so quickly that you tripped over your own feet and fell to the floor.

You immediately turned onto your backside and scrambled away from him. He regarded you with a raised eyebrow.

“So you’ve heard of me.” He rolled his eyes as you backed yourself into a wall, not even moving to stop you.

“You’re the mob boss!” You were stating the obvious since he was him, but you were too horrified to be intelligent.

He was ruthless. You heard what he did to people who went against him or people who didn’t do what he wanted, read the articles of gruesome things that were suspected to be because of him.

Now he was in your apartment. And he wanted to stay with you.

“I know, I know. I am incredible.” He grabbed a book you’d been reading off the end table beside the couch, making a face at it before putting it back down. “You know something else about mob bosses, though?”

“That you’re fucking sadistic?” Your voice shook and you cowered slightly as he stood up.

He crouched down in front of you and just stared at you silently for a long moment before finally saying, “You only get hurt if you’re on their bad side. And being on their good side has...benefits.” His eyes roamed over you hungrily at the mention of the word ‘benefits’ before he looked at your face. “So what do you say? Are you gonna let me stay or do you really wanna kick me out?”

As you stared up at this man and understood the very meaningful look on his face, you supposed that you really had no other choice.

“—you’re not sleeping in my bed.”

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

Once you had a bit of time to calm down and think over what Max wanted, you figured you were just going to have to deal with it.

You couldn’t really retaliate against a mob boss, so it was best to just keep him happy until he was done hiding from whoever was after him.

This meant you were pretty much on autopilot as you set up a bed for him on the couch, thankful somewhere in the back of your mind that he didn’t insist on sleeping in your bed.

He plopped down on the couch the moment you fit a baggy sheet onto the cushions, bouncing a few times before he laid back and looked up at you. “Where’d you find this ancient thing anyway?”

“Thrift store,” you mumbled as you handed him a pillow.

“Oh.” Max made a face and sat up to remove his suit jacket, folding it and moving to put it on the coffee table, only to pause. “Everything here is from a thrift store, isn’t it? I bet you’re renting this closet of an apartment from a thrift store.”

That took you off autopilot for a second as you turned to glare at him. “Need I remind you that I’m letting you hide out in this closet?”

“Ooh, claws. I like it.” He looked you over like he hadn’t threatened you into letting him stay when you sassed him before. “I think we should have angry sex.”

“I think I should go to bed and lock the door.” You didn’t know whether to be afraid of him or annoyed by him.

He was incredibly intimidating when he would threaten you, but then he was mostly just an obnoxious pervert otherwise from what you could tell. He seemed to rely on a sexual, jovial sense of humor.

“Thanks for doing this,” he called after you as you walked to your bedroom, too loud like he wanted you to acknowledge and appreciate his gratefulness. “Sleep tight, and hey! If the mood strikes, I’d be happy to sleep in your tight—”

You slammed the door shut before you could hear the rest of his suggestion, deciding that you could be scared and annoyed.

Mostly, you were just tired from working so much and dealing with Max, so you fell into bed with the hopes that he would leave in the morning.

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

He didn’t.

As a matter of fact, you were woken up bright and early by the sound of music blasting from your living room.

You thought for a moment that everything that happened was a dream until you stumbled out of your bedroom, half dressed since you didn’t even take off all your clothes before falling asleep, and you saw Max flipping through a photo album.

You made your way over to the speaker where the overtly sexual music was blasting from, smacking at the buttons blindly in your attempts to turn the volume down.

When you finally found it and turned it down to barely a whisper, you sagged against the table in relief and closed your eyes. “Did you have to turn it up that loud?”

He didn’t answer you at first and you opened your eyes to find him taking a picture out of the album, looking it over with a whistle. “Did anyone ever tell you that your great grandma was sexy?”

“No,” you said flatly, walking back towards your bedroom. “Please keep the music down. I’m going back to bed.”

“Aren’t you going to make breakfast?” His question made you stop in your tracks and walk backwards to look at him.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I don’t know my way around your kitchen or how to use things properly, and I’d hate to break anything.”

You could tell by his fake innocent smile that he was being a brat and vaguely threatening you again. You wanted to just go to bed anyway, but you also wouldn’t put it past him to actually go and start breaking things in your kitchen.

With a roll of your eyes and a grumbled insult towards him, you made your way into the kitchen to start making his breakfast.

“I like my eggs scrambled with a little salt and pepper!”

As you stood there in the kitchen with your head in your hands, you remembered what you’d been wondering the night before.

You were more annoyed by him than you were scared of him, and you weren’t certain if that was a good thing or not.

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

Max Phillips had been staying with you for nearly a month now and you had to admit that...it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be.

In the beginning, you’d seen an intimidating mob boss who was forcing you to let him take residence in your home, and you had no idea what he was going to do to you during his stay.

Now you knew that, though he could be threatening and you had no doubt that he could do damage to you if he wanted to, he was mostly just an obnoxious, perky, lascivious frat boy who loved attention.

But he still let you go to your job and live your normal life, and though he liked to make a lot of perverted comments, he’d never once actually touched you or done anything to you.

So you guessed it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been to have a mob boss staying at your apartment.

Even if he always asked for the same thing for breakfast and would complain if it was slightly wrong, and between that and every stupid, sexual joke he made, you wanted to serve him a fried egg covered in sugar just to annoy him.

There were also times where you were almost certain his eyes were red or he had horns or something, but you chalked that up to your dislike of him and how you’d been tired or on your second glass of wine when you saw that.

He never actually hurt you and your apparently very low standards were thankful for that.

You also would never admit it, but you’d been lonely and having someone to come home to who filled the silence was...nice. It could be annoying as all hell depending on what he was talking about, but sometimes he was funny.

Sometimes he’d ask about your day, make a comment about how he could ‘take care’ of someone for you or turn the way you phrased something into a sex joke.

Sometimes you would laugh at a joke or you would have a genuine conversation that made you forget he was who he was.

Then he would invite himself into your bed like he did every night and that would be the temporary end of your camaraderie, as well as your reminder that he was an annoying jerk.

But it was nice on occasion. To not be alone.

There were times you thought you could even like the man if it weren’t for the situation and the fact that he’d always ruin any pleasant conversations you had. Maybe there were times that you did like him, or at the very least tolerated him.

You guessed that was why you were almost disappointed when he told you that his men had settled everything and he could leave. You were going to be alone again.

You were going to miss when he would actually start helping you fold clothes and he would just be quiet for a minute as he listened to you talk about your day.

But you weren’t going to miss the way he would ask if you wanted him to eat you out to help you relax, so it was easy for you to focus on your relief that he was leaving.

You could deal with loneliness if it meant he wasn’t going to be there, staring at your ass and saying anything he could think of to rile up.

“Don’t look so sad about it, angel face.” That was a nickname he’d taken to calling you every time he pissed you off; you supposed a way to mock your angry expression or something.

“I’m not...sad.” You scoffed, though you knew that you were a little bit, way deep down. You hadn’t hid that in your eyes quickly enough before you were relieved at the idea of him leaving.

“Whatever you need to convince yourself that you don’t totally want me.” He straightened the jacket of yet another suit, and sometimes you wondered when he took the time to grab more of them. “I understand if you need a goodbye kiss. Maybe a good fuck.”

“And that’s why I’m glad you’re leaving. Let me get the door for you.” You turned to walk over to the door, but Max’s grip on your arm had you looking back at him questioningly.

His eyes were serious for once; no humor, no lust. He was looking at you like he did the times you would have a brief, real conversation. “I’m indebted to you. Let me do something for you.”

You were momentarily taken aback by his sincerity, but you gathered yourself after a moment and smiled at him. “Leaving me alone forever will suffice.”

“Seriously.” He pulled you back when you tried to walk away again, making you roll your eyes at him. “I have connections. I can give you anything you want.”

“Anything?” You raised an eyebrow, a little convinced considering he didn’t mention how he could even give you something sexual if you wanted it.

“Anything.”

“I want a million dollars.”

“Okay, done.”

“No, wait!”

He had started towards the door like he was genuinely going to go off to get you that million dollars, and now you were the one grabbing his arm and pulling him back. You looked at him for any hint of a joke, biting your lip.

“You’re serious?” you asked slowly.

“I’m serious. Name it, it’s done.”

You stared at him and before you could stop yourself, you said, “I want my dream job, but there are never any openings and everyone beats me to it when there are and— and what am I saying? You’re a mob boss, you’re just asking if there’s anyone you can kill for me.”

You supposed you mentioned it because you hoped he had connections in your industry and could pull strings, but…

Max took hold of your chin and tilted your head up from where you were looking at the floor, smirking at you. “Done.”

You just looked at him with your brow furrowed and your mouth in an O shape, torn between asking him if he could actually do it and thanking him. You were just about to do the latter when there was suddenly a piece of paper in front of your face.

“I just need you to sign this contract!” He was back to his normal obnoxious self, pulling the paper away before you could even blink and setting it down on your dining table.

“Where the hell were you keeping that?” You hadn’t seen him take it out of any pockets and even if he had, the paper would have had to have been folded up to fit.

It was perfectly pristine, not a single mark on it, so where…

He then procured a dip pen and an inkwell from a place you decided you didn’t want to know about, then he guided you over to the table and shoved you down in a chair. “Just sign your name on the line there, cursive or print.”

“What is this for?” you asked once you’d wrapped your head around what he was asking you to do. You picked up the contract to look at it, but he quickly plucked it out of your hands.

“Oh, you know, standard. I can’t be held liable if it doesn’t turn out exactly how you want it, blah, blah, blah.” He set it back down and dipped the pen into the ink, forcing it into your hand. “Sign it.”

“Give me a minute!” Your eyes scanned over the contract to find that it mostly was just about liability and binding the agreement, but you needed to get closer to read some fine print at the bottom.

“Can I have a glass of water?” Max’s face popped up between you and the paper, making you jump back.

You just blinked for a second before gently pushing his face away so you could read. “Be my guest.”

You just started to read the fine print again when Max started humming. The music was familiar and you realized it was a tango, but you tried not to let it distract you from reading.

Just when you managed to make some headway on reading the first line, you were yanked out of your chair and pulled up against Max’s body.

Before you could even ask what he was doing, he gripped your hand and thrust your arm straight out with his as he began a rhythmic stride across the room, humming the music all the way.

“What are you doing?!” You let out a yelp as he turned around jarringly and started to step the other way.

“You’ve never tangoed before?” He spun you out and made you crash into the chair you’d been sitting in, only saved by his hand in yours before he twirled you back into his chest.

“I’m trying to read your contract!”

“You sign it and I promise you, the job you want is yours. You just have to sign it!” He dipped you right by the table so the paper was in your peripheral vision, panting slightly. “Sign it.”

He pulled you back up and stepped away from you, as you stared at him in a daze because he actually just made you tango with him.

But then his promises that you would get the job sank in. You looked at the contract for a moment and, as your desire for your dream job won over your curiosity about the fine print, you grabbed the pen and signed it.

You stumbled back with a gasp when the contract immediately went up into flames and disappeared from the table. “What the fuck—”

Max grabbed you again, but this time he spun you around and slammed his lips against yours in a passionate kiss. You raised your hands to push him away at first, only to slowly grip onto his suit jacket when you found that he was a good kisser.

Your eyes closed as you kissed him back, forgetting about how annoying he was or the few threats he’d used on you, forgetting about his work, just letting yourself get lost in this.

For the briefest moment, you were mad at yourself for never giving in to any of his obnoxious offers to join you in bed.

He pulled away from you and you just stood there with your eyes closed for a moment, lips still parted like you wanted him to continue his work.

“Max,” you gasped out when he didn’t say anything or move to kiss you again, reaching out to pull him back.

But when you opened your eyes in search of him, he was gone.

#max phillips x reader #max phillips imagine #max phillips fic #bloodsucking bastards imagine

198 notes · View notes

mortuarybees · 5 years ago

Note

mr. Bees i sprained my ankle and am bedridden until further notice, please rec me ur fav fics under 8k (that adhd attention span is fun)

I’m so sorry to hear about your ankle!! I’d be happy to rec some fics. i’m only tagging authors if they have their urls listed with the fic! if you want me to add your url, just lmk :). also if my mutuals have posted fics feel free to put them in the replies bc yall have Taste:

salinity and other measurements of brackish water by drawlight / @drawlight - 3.5k - if you haven’t read salinity yet, drop absolutely everything and do it right now because it’s phenomenal and atmospheric and it absolutely aches!!! “It's an odd thing, getting on after the End of the World. Crowley takes to sea-watching.”

quiet light and ad astra (explicit) by drawlight @drawlight - the first clocks in at around 2k and the second at 8k. it’s the shortest and most effective slowburn i have ever read. quiet light is unconfessed love; ad astra is a love confession and first time and they’re beautiful

everything just stops by witching - 4.5k - idk how long you’ve been following me but when i first read it i FULLY had a meltdown and took all of you with me. it’s that “i love you deep, angel” shit “I love your silly aziraphale things” shit! they have the tenderest fucking conversation in literary history while crowley is drunk in a bath it’s wonderful

a culmination of miracles by prettydizzeed / @genderqueercrowley - 1.3k - an absolutely beautifully written fic about crowley having chronic pain and informing aziraphale about it six thousand years later

i keep a window for you (it’s always open) by prettydizzeed / @genderqueercrowley - 2.4k - a complete fkcing war crime of a fic of crowley getting emotional about romeo and juliet and continuing to be emotional about it for centuries and then, even worse, quoting r+j in a love confession.

such surpassing brightness by handful_of_silence - 7.7k - one of my favorite fics of all time! aziraphale is the patron of queer people and has been for thousands of years! fuck!

it’s the light (it’s the obstacle that casts it) by handful_of_silence - 5.7k - “The Patron Saint of London's LGBT Community is real, and he lives in Soho.” aziraphale and crowley speak polari. literally so up my alley i melted when i saw it

your hair was long when we first met by aziraphvle / @aziraphvle - 1.4k - crowley asks aziraphale to cut his hair and we are taken on a thousand-word journey about how aziraphale loves his hair and loves him and it’s. a whole lot. bringing samson by regina spektor into it was entirely uncalled for. again i am Weak for aziraphale loving and caring for crowley.

and then i will kneel down (explicit) - 5.4k - f. fleabag omens. it’s the confession scene but it’s aziraphale and crowley. it is More than you could ever possibly imagine

hard feelings/loveless by witching - 2.3k - "Aziraphale said it was like the opposite of the feeling you’re having when you say things like “this feels spooky.” Crowley didn’t know what to make of that, but he expected it was something like the opposite of the feeling you get when the only person who truly knows you makes a cryptic remark suggesting that you can’t understand love. Crowley understood love all too well.”

the saddest part of my day by witching - 3k - "crowley is preparing to leave on a demonic assignment, and he's very nervous about leaving aziraphale in charge in his absence.” they have a very open and honest and loving and very adult conversation about their feelings and tbh? That’s My Kink

summer and his pleasures by witching (explicit) - 7.2k - “absence makes the heart grow fonder, and crowley and aziraphale’s hearts were plenty fond to begin with. a story told through phone calls while they are separated for work-related reasons.”

penance by blissymbolics / @blissymbolics (explicit) - 5.9k - praise kink/crowley finally gets off after six thousand years of trying

like a prayer for which no words exist by lipsstainedbloodred - 8.1k - “In which Crowley and Aziraphale do not dine at the Ritz after that nasty business with Heaven and Hell, and Crowley has an existential crisis instead.”

men have gone to heaven for smaller things than that by mercuryhatter - 713 words - Robbie Ross’ funeral. “Aziraphale finds an age slipping away from him.”

where you stay i will stay by mercuryhatter - 866 words - men at the Hundred Guineas Club went by women’s names. aziraphale chose naomi and paid to keep the name ruth available in case crowley woke up. aaaaa

the hour/the spot/the look/the words by planethunter - 2.5k - “Crowley watches Pride and Prejudice (2005) and it spurs a realisation.” you can imagine what a trial it is to read p+p 2005 being brought into good omens but life is nothing but suffering apparently, i’ve learned that this summer through this fandom

and the punchline to the joke is asking SOMEONE SAVE US by princex_N / @princex-n - 5.8k - “The fact of the matter is that Crowley was the first bitter cripple to limp across the face of this planet. It's been 6000 years and things don't seem to have gotten much better.”

birds of a feather by idiopathicsmile - 3.6k - idiopathicsmile of world ain’t ready fame. if your life can be divided into Before Les Mis and After Les Mis, you understand. “Aziraphale nests. Crowley relearns some crucial facts about angelic courtship rituals.”

covet by mirawonderfulstar / @mirawonderfulstar - 2.4k - “Aziraphale, little good though it did him, wanted desperately. He wanted with an urgency that scared him. He wanted wine, and cocoa, and the occasional tea. He wanted gravlax with dill sauce, and Pappardelle Bolognese, and those awful little iced biscuits they had at Tesco at Christmastime. He wanted dinners at the Ritz and long walks in the park and late nights in the back room of his shop. He wanted Crowley. Fervently, achingly, he wanted Crowley.”

indellible by greased_lightning_rod / @aziraphallist (explicit) - “It turns out glitter is miracle-proof and, also, that it itches. Crowley needs some help preening. He gets a bit more than he bargained for.” Wing kink. yall know i’m weak for aziraphale taking care of crowley sue me

get religion quick (cause you’re looking divine) by brinnanza - 4.2k - “So it was fine. Even if Crowley couldn’t love him, he clearly liked him well enough, and that was almost the same thing. It no doubt would have continued to be fine, or at least fine-adjacent, were it not for a narrowly averted apocalypse and several bottles of a really quite nice Riesling Aziraphale had found in the back room of his newly restored bookshop.”

the nuances of “together” by mirawonderfulstar @mirawonderfulstar 2.8k - “Everybody in the whole world can tell Aziraphale and Crowley are a couple. Everyone except, apparently, Crowley.”

listen (he’s already told you five times) by darcylindbergh / @forineffablereasons - 1.8k - “Not everything Crowley says is said out loud. Aziraphale doesn't always hear him at first, but he's learning to stop being surprised.” Love!!! Languages!

sudden and surprising moments of overwhelming affection by darcylindbergh @forineffablereasons - 2.7k - “Aziraphale has not shut up in thirty-four minutes. Crowley’s been counting.” O More I Love Your Silly Aziraphale Things Shit. if you’re a neurotic talkative gay and insecure about it that particular genre of good omens fic is ruinous.

things truly terrible by darcylindbergh / @forineffablereasons - 1.2k - “Crowley has said some truly terrible things over the years, but this was the worst.” tooth-rotting-sweet love song-fueled confession.

tell me all the ways by tinsnip - 1.6k - “Crowley was out in the garden. Aziraphale was in his study, most definitely not looking out the window. Really. Really. One little speck of sentiment: was it so much to ask?” More! Love! Languages!

a name for earth by regencysnuffboxes - 1.1k - “Demons can’t say holy names, and Aziraphael accommodates his new friend accordingly.”

a home at the beginning of the world by stereobone / @stereobone - 5.8k - crowley just kind of. moves in with aziraphale. Meaningful Interior Decorating! Couch Metaphor! yall know what i’m weak for

#i hope you're back on your feet soon!#and i hope these keep you occupied until then :)#henry speaks #good omens #fic rec #caniwritemywayout

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shirtlesssammy · 4 years ago

Text

10x07: Girls, Girls, Girls

A woman runs down an alley, clearly escaping someone --or something. She’s eventually found by the man pursuing her. She stabs him in the eye, but that doesn’t slow him down. He flashes black eyes and snaps her neck.

Sam and Dean are enjoying a meal and no case on the horizon. Dean’s phone keeps blowing up with alerts, so Sam grabs it and sees Dean’s joined a dating app. Impala67, lol. Sam is having the TIME OF HIS LIFE, and thinks the woman that Dean is pursuing is a little too available. “Is it so hard to believe that an attractive, red-blooded, American female could be interested in someone like me?”

Sam’s proven wrong when Shaylee shows up and Dean takes off with her on his arm.

Castiel is still working with Hannah on finding rogue angels. She suddenly strips right in front of Cas. It makes our bumbling, awkward angel spontaneously combust with embarrassment and confusion.

His little huff and awkward casualness about her nakedness is --hearts. Also, how he just hangs on to the laptop with one hand like it’s nothing is somehow very pleasing.

Dean, meanwhile, is slightly bummed to find out that Shaylee is really a prostitute.

And she’s not just any prostitute. She doesn’t want money--she wants his soul. You picked the wrong mark, girl!

Hannah gets a visit from her vessel’s husband.

Back at Dean’s motel room, the demon shows up for Dean’s soul, but he’s greeted by both Winchesters --and a devil’s trap. They learn there’s an entire brothel somewhere before Shaylee stabs the demon with an angel blade. The dude was carrying a card of where the brothel is located --so lucky them!

At Raul’s Club, Raul and another dude are ---OMG ROWENA. Yep, she wanders in and they tell her that they’re not hiring and she’s too old (sigh). She tells him she would never do business with filth like him and throws a hex bomb at him.

Raul dies a most horrific and perfect death. Rowena then invites the girls for a bit of food.

Hannah talks with Joe about why Caroline disappeared. Joe wants answers. Hannah struggles with finding an adequate way of explaining Caroline’s absence. Castiel walks in the room then and things get even MORE awkward. Joe asks if they’re together --which Hannah doesn’t get right away, but realizes that’s the best way to explain things, and grabs Cas’s hand.

Joe doesn’t believe it. “This guy?” Um, that guy is probably on A LOT of people’s cheat lists. Just sayin’, Joe. But Joe knows his wife, and knows deep down that it is false. Hannah kisses Cas to prove her point.

Sam and Dean find the chaos left in Rowena’s wake.

Rowena brings her new charges to a fancy restaurant, and they are prompt asked to leave due to their sartorial choices. Rowena casts a spell to keep the wait staff in order. The girls ask her how she did it. “Magic.”

Gerald, the demon that wasn’t Raul, reports back to Crowley and spills that they opened the brothel. He wanted Crowley to know about what the powerful witch did.

Sam does his research on the demon killing spell. It turns out to have not been used in over 300 years and it’s only been used by the witch who created it, Rowena. (SMART LASS.)

Rowena explains witches to her new friends. She talks of being a natural witch, and how the Grand Coven kicked her out. She’s been on the run and in hiding. Now she’s ready to fight, and is looking for witches to train. The girls wonder when they can start their training. Rowena sees the waiter go up in red fire and they make a bee line out of the restaurant.

A demon wakes up in a trap and immediately starts hurling insults at an unseen captor. When the captor comes into view, we learn that it’s Ass Hat and he’s after Dean. I didn’t remember that Ass Hat was in this episode! I DEMAND A REFUND.

At a gas station, Hannah and Cas share an awkward conversation. Hannah is perturbed by the confrontation with her vessel’s husband. She’s feeling, more specifically, plagued with guilt. Cas consoles her and tells her that the “affair” gave him a reason to walk away. He then speaks of Jimmy Novak, and how he took him away from his family - twice. But “the mission comes first. Always.”

Dean investigates the waiter’s death and catches a lead: there were two sex workers in the restaurant who came in with another woman. Meanwhile, Sam researches mysterious deaths at fancy hotels. The brains were all boiled, just like the waiter’s.

For Calming Scenery Science:

Cas trails Hannah to a quiet bridge. She apologizes to him but she won’t go with him to track down any more angels. Hannah is horrified to experience an echo of the sacrifice humans have made to become vessels that allow angels to walk the earth. “It’s time to put [humans] first,” she says. Working with Cas, she felt human things. “Passions. Hungers.” (Me: eyebrow waggle) When she was confronted by Caroline’s husband, she felt their pain. She kisses Cas on the cheek and says goodbye.

Caroline wakes up in his arms. It’s time to go home.

At a swanky hotel, there’s a knock on Rowena’s door. She rustles up her troops to cast her spellwork and opens the door for a hotel employee. Unfortunately, that employee is already MEGA dead. Two demons step inside.

We cut to Rowena captured and her protégés destined for doom, when the Winchesters intercept them. They dispatch the two demons quickly and then circle in on Rowena. She lobs a spell at her blonde minion and drags away the other woman as the blonde shrieks. Her eyes bulge red and she launches herself at the Winchesters with superhuman force.

Outside, the other woman confronts Rowena, who explains that she used an attack dog spell to create a decoy to stall the Winchesters.

The other woman is entirely uninterested in being Rowena’s gal pal after that, and punches her. Rowena’s about to hex the ever loving stuffing out of her, when Dean interrupts. He’s got a gun pointed at Rowena! Rowena smiles because behind Dean...is Dumbass, who has a gun pointed at DEAN. Dumbass compels Dean to free Rowena, who flees merrily.

Dean apologizes to One Entire Butt, but he’s not having it. Dean explains that he was only a demon TEMPORARILY. One Entire Butt concludes that Dean is a monster through and through (demon or no demon) and they fight.

Sam hides out in the hotel room while the woman under the attack dog spell pounds frantically at the door. She pounds and pounds and pounds until...she just stops. Sam opens the door and she falls down, dead.

Dean defeats Worm Guts and insists that they talk it out. He gives him the monster talk. It turns out that Dean remembers every detail of that kill and how Worm Gut’s father was out murdering people and eating livers. Dean retells that evening until Sam arrives. There’s another gun standoff with twitchy Worm Gut before Sam finally lowers his weapon. Worm Gut experiences emotions while trying to reconcile what he just heard with his memory of the past.

Dean has one last revelation to drop. “I get it. That was your story. Look, man, I got one of those, too. Okay, but those stories that we tell to keep us going? Man, sometimes they blind us. ...The people who love me, they pulled me back from that edge. ...Now, the truth is I'm past saving. I know how my story ends. It's at the edge of a blade or the barrel of a gun.” DEAN WINCHESTER SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH.

Sam chimes in, urging Sack of Raw Eggs to go back home to his family. Dean gets his gun back though so, yay?

Caroline arrives home and knocks on the door. She reunites with her husband while Cas sits alone in his rain soaked car.

Cas opens up his laptop and looks up Jimmy Novak on the web - he’s still marked as missing after all these years. Cas bby.

Sam confronts Dean after Slime Mold takes off. Did he really mean all the sad things he said about himself? OF COURSE NOT, Dean tells him. He is FINE and has always had a healthy self image!

For Brooding Boys Science:

Cut to Crowley who’s being escorted by a minion to someone in a holding cell. The camera pans down to show ROWENA. She smiles at Crowley from her shackles and lobs barbs his way. The camera zooms in on an utterly gobsmacked Crowley.

“Mother?” he asks. And we fade to black.

QUOTER???!!!

Nice screen name, Dean. Impala67

Who knows what a soul is, really?

Hardly the most appetizing process in the world, but killing demons always makes me hungry

Screw the grand coven and their silly rules

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #spn rewatch #spn 10x07 #girls girls girls #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #cas #crowley #rowena macleod #hannah #cole for ts #supernatural season 10

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imthepunchlord · 6 years ago

Note

It'd actually be interesting to see Future Alix in the Gloria AU. She's in the past but doesn't know any of the heroes well, much to their collective confusion (and Lila's ire). Instead, she tells them about the hero "Ladybug" in the future but none of them know who she is or who she's supposed to be because she doesn't exist yet. Lila would no doubt be unhappy at the implications that someone else gets the earrings. It's not until later on that Alix realizes Chelone is rather familiar...

Weird.

That was the one word that Jack would use to describe this as she turned around to the five pairs of eyes gazing upon her, all ignoring Mr Pigeon’s scream as the akuma kicked far, far away, flying right into the Seine, easily knocked out by this sudden hero. She had quite literally came out of nowhere, a portal of light, a rabbit themed boot coming first and delivered that kick right into his middle.

The old villain didn’t stand a chance against her unexpected force, and none these heroes of old expected her either, just gaping at the sight of her. When she faced them, all five gaped at her, half of them had their jaws slack, the others were tense, gazing up at her in wonder, curiosity, and tension. Jack had to take a minute from this blast from the past.

They were as she remembered them, there were some details that were different here and there; and names... what were their names? Damn its been forever.

Mitsubachi she knows. She’s been going strong since she got the bee.

There was Jinx, lacking the calculating look in her eyes, a burning fire that needed to be cooled but hasn’t reached that point yet. If Jack remembers correctly, this Jinx has yet to get into her political plot.

Then the cat and this ladybug, she faintly remembered them. And the turtle, she remembered the turtle the least, though there was something familiar about her, the look in her eyes, already in stance, her shield up and ready for trouble.

Very familiar.

“You’re not an akuma, are you?” this ladybug accused, sounding unsure as she gazed up at the rabbit hero. She didn’t respond immediately, still taking them in.

In the face of this weirdness and tension, she said the only thing she could think of when facing heroes of ten years ago. “You all are so tiny.”

The group faltered, not expecting this to be the first words from a white, black and blue rabbit themed hero, a thin looking black and white helmet on her head. The fox recovered first, scoffing loudly, “Excuse you! Ruuude! I’m clearly the tallest of the heroes. And not tiny at all.” She received a dry look from the bee and turtle

The cat responded first, turning to the fox with an irritated look. “Gloria and I are taller than you.”

Gloria. That was her name. Ironic, she wasn’t really known to be glorious.

The fox snorted. “You guys aren’t heroes.”

Before a fight could break out, the turtle stepped forward, coming to stand between the fox and cat, though Jack had a feeling it was more to stop Jinx than cat. There was a quiet stare down between them before the turtle turned to the rabbit, looking her over wearily. She asked aloud, her tone insistent, “Who are you?”

Jack found her lips twitching up. She answered, “Jackrabbit, a hero from the future.”

That earned her long stares, all of them stupefied by that claim.

“Prove it,” demanded Mitsubachi.

“A little hard to do,” Jack said, “really rather not reveal too much of your future.”

Gloria came up, smiling charmingly up at the rabbit hero, asked with a tone full of giddiness, “Surely you can tell me a little bit of mine?”

“Nope.”

The cat came up next, asking eagerly, “Ok, how about this, do Gloria and I date in the future?” His hopeful expression fell whens he told him no.

“Why are you here?” the turtle asked. “If you are from the future.” She glanced at the watch that was strapped to Jack’s belt. “Does your miraculous time travel?”

“No miraculous can time travel,” Jack said, "some can have a power to manipulate time a bit, or see all types of futures and work around what’s coming; but actual time travel? Nope. If that existed, your... oh what was his name? Hawk Moth? He’d be after that instead.”

“How did you get here then?” Mitsubachi asked.

“I’m here because of a knight. One that has a really twisted up code of chivalry, made from a really twisted up source, and while butterfly can’t time travel itself, it can manifest the power, and it did so in a knight known as Timetagger, who’s here seeking a certain pair of earrings and ring.”

All heroes glanced at each other, and it was Jinx who snapped. “Are you serious! After all this, we’re still fighting Hawk Moth!”

“I said knight, not akuma, kit.”

“So someone else will misuse the butterfly,” the turtle murmured gravely, earning a confirmed nod.

“Who?” the cat asked, earning a huff.

“If we knew, you think Monarca would still be floating around?”

“Where is this Timetagger, then?” Mitsubachi asked, always ready to get serious.

Jackrabbit shrugged. “I was hoping maybe you guys have seen him. Especially since he’s my ticket home.” And she’d really rather not be there, weary of what could be changed. She missed Sass, his easy going nature, but sharp and ready to act. And ferocity of the snake that she could let out when needed; rabbit had great speed that she enjoyed, but there was no real fight with rabbit. And Laff the goofball wasn’t for her, this was more Cottontail’s alley, and the quiet rabbit enjoyed Laff’s silly energy far more than Jack did. The kwami had a hard time focusing, and wanted to live life at whimsy, having faith that just being on the move would be enough.

Plus, she has hope that Ladybug would be able to fix the original miraculous so she could get her watch back. Letting Laff hang in her watch and in her care has left it a target for those that want to get around quick.

Jack’s not crazy about that.

One of Jack’s long ears twitched back, and she looked over to see pigeons starting to come together, ready to fight. Bringing out her trumpet, Jackrabbit blew into it, letting out a loud and chirper blast that gave the young heroes a start. The portal opened up eagerly, and pointing to it, Jack ordered, “Alright kiddos! In you go! Pigeon Man is not the priority here!”

“It’s actually Mr Pigeon,” the cat corrected.

“And we’re not kids!” Jinx snapped.

“I don’t care, toddlers, get in!”

The cat when first, complied and eager, no hesitation at all. Far different from the Chat Sith Jackrabbit knew. Mitsubachi followed next, grabbing the growling fox and dragging her behind her, jumping into the portal. All that was left was Gloria and the turtle, neither moving to jump through that portal, the former had her arms crossed and was glaring up at the rabbit hero.

“Come on,” Jackrabbit prompted.

“I’m not going to you tell me what the future’s like,” Gloria said.

The turtle didn’t say anything, frowning softly as she gazed up at Jackrabbit, looking torn and unsure.

Before Jackrabbit could respond, there was an angry shout behind them, making them all tense.

“I’m coming for you, Ladybug!”

The two heroes whipped around, seeing what had to Timetagger coming their way. Jackrabbit acted, grabbing them both and hauling them back into the portal, evading Timetagger before he could reach them. There was a whirlwind of white and all three dropped around the tense heroes that were waiting on the other side, near Notre Dame, safe in its shadow.

Chat quickly came to Gloria’s side, alarmed by her shaken expression. They went off to the side as Jinx and Mitsubachi came to stand with Chelone. On their own, Gloria whispered, tense and furious, “Timetagger shouted Ladybug. Not my name. There’s a Ladybug in the future.”

Chat’s eyes widened, sending a guarded glance at the trio. “Someone’s going to steal your miraculous.”

Someone would have to for Gloria to not exist anymore. Sending an angry look their way, she made her resolve, no one was going to replace Gloria Rossa in the future. This Ladybug will not come to be.

And with this, maybe it was time for this Turtle, Fox, and Bee to not run around anymore...

#nobodyfamousposts #ask Punchie #Gloria au #Timetagger #rabbit!Alix #Jackrabbit #kwami swap

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wlwhc · 7 years ago

Photo

Requested by anonymous: Being Alex and Kara younger sister and being completely different from them, like in the angsty way, with problems with authority and alcohol, drugs and that kind of shit, just a mess, maybe you could add that she’s Jeremiah’s daughter? but she doesn’t get along with him either?daddy issues. I always saw Jeremiah as a villain so ;D

Requested by anonymous: a little crossover? maybe mixing Gotham with National City? Idk how I just want to be friends with the bat lol or Diana BOTH

Requested by Anon: something angsty with the danvers sisters? maybe make the reader their little sister with powers!!!

Words:3433

Warning: Mention of alcohol and being drunk. Mention of drugs. Mention of a bad relationship with your dad.

(a/n): I struggled with this so much, also, this is not angsty enough, and I’m sorry for that, but I had enough with the Diana one

I wrote this on my phone, please excuse the low quality and the mess

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~

Chapter I - The Beginning

The Danvers family. United, passionate, and courageous. Who would even think that you came from such a nice family uh?. While they reunited every so often, hugs and sweet talks, Eliza cooking a nice meal for them, Alex probably snuggling into Maggie’s arms, while Kara is out there, finishing her shift at being Supergirl. You were probably spending your time at the nearest bar, refusing to go to the family reunion.

They have had their problems with Jeremiah, maybe that’s where you got your rebel side and problem with authority. Alex also had it, but not as much as you.

You are not going to lie, you have a few bad habits but everyone does right?. I don’t know what they do such a fuss over such silly things like ending up in the hospital because you forgot that you don’t have to mix vodka and MDMA, it was just a little mistake. A mistake that your family loves to remind you, that and the times you appear out of nowhere passed out on the couch with a bottle in your hand. You were young, two years younger than Alex, so they freaked out a lot, plus Alex had turned into a good girl all out of sudden making you look even worse.

Since your last party night in National City, which you end up in the hospital again, you left and never came back. Sadly, you didn’t end up in a very good place.

It isn’t like you don’t love your family, you do. But their disapproving look at your bad antics makes you want to run away. Especially Alex, the girl had her bad past, such as yourself, she used to spend her time in jail and drunk and blah blah blah, and now, she thinks she can judge you. If it wasn’t for the green guy she would still be in jail.

Clark had told you about the family reunion Kara was planning and that you had to go.

“I hope Y/N comes this time, I miss her, I wonder where she is” Kara asked her sister, after she got to change her costume off.

“you know her, she’s probably at some bar, drinking her ass off” Alex said, not being really happy with the idea of having you here. It isn’t that she hates you, but she’s really bitter about you leaving.

“Alex! , you’re talking about your sister” Eliza said, scolding her daughter.

“my problematic, alcoholic and even junky sister” Alex said, sipping on her glass of wine.

“do I need to remind you about your past?” Eliza said, raising an eyebrow.

“fair enough, but I wasn’t that bad, how long has been since we saw her?” Alex ask.

“it’s been a long time actually, I miss her, we used to be so close.” Kara said, looking sadly at her mom.

“I miss bee too, she’s my babygirl, she got a little bit out of control" Eliza said, sighing deeply.

“a little bit? as far as we know, she could be in an alley seeing unicorns-” Alex stop when she saw you standing in the doorway, you were glaring at her.

“I’m not in an alley, but I have to admit that sounds better than being here” Alex was pretty much speechless. You changed a lot, the bubbly and annoyingly energetic self , was now with a stone cold face, and your eyes, that used to be a dark blue were now a pale grey, no emotion seem to be there.

“…hey” That was the only thing that Alex managed to say, but judging by your intense glare, and how you walk past her instead of hugging her, she knew that you weren’t going to be nice.

“fuck off” You mutter still glaring her, walking past her, your destination was your mom., that was smiling at you.

“wow, okay! Hi ! where have you been? you’re so beautiful-We missed you a lot-are you staying? you have to stay!” Kara said, getting over excited, embracing you in a bone-crushing hug. She frowns at the mixed smell of tobacco and alcohol in your clothes, but she keeps the smile on her face.

“I just came to say hi, I’m not staying” You said, chuckling a little at her excitement. Kara almost drops you after she heard you.

“what? why not?! , t-there’s pie! you-y-you love pie!” Kara said, a worried look on her face.

“Kara, sweetheart..I hate pie” You said, walking to your mom that was waiting for you with open arms.

“hey mom” You mumbled, Eliza rushing to hug you.

“Sweetheart, you’re so tall!” You mom said, not daring to let you go.

“it may be the drugs-ouch!” Alex said, Maggie hitting her arm at hearing her comment. You already know who she is, she was the one who opened the door for you.

“what’s up with you?!” Maggie whispered to Alex, the D.E.O agent huff.

“where’s dad? Clark told me that you guys got him back” You asked, eating one of the french fries that were on the table. Earning a disapproving look from your mom.

“it’s a long story-” Kara started but you stop her.

“he got back with Lilian right?” You said, eating a few more french fries.

“h-how did you-”

“he visit me the other day, told me to stay away from trouble and the Luthors, but I thought he would at least visit you too, oh my god this is so good mom” You said, your mom now taking the french fries away from you.

“he visited you?!” Alex exclaimed, not believing that he had actually visited you. Even when he was around, you and he didn’t have the best relationship.

“are you deaf?”

“did he said anything else?” He did said a lot, but they didn’t need to know that.

“…nop, just that” Kara heart your heart race a little bit after saying that and send a look to Alex.

“you’re lying”

“if I were lying you wouldn’t even notice Alex” You said glaring at your older sister.

“what did he say? tell me exactly what he said-” Alex said walking closer to you

“don’t get all C.I.A with me-”

“I will if that means you will tell me the truth-”

“enough! , Alex go take a walk, Maggie could you calm her down?” Eliza said, Maggie was already dragging Alex away.

“copy that Mama Danvers, let’s get some fresh air ” After Maggie and Alex left, Eliza turn to you.

“we are going to talk-” You know where this was going to end up, and right now, you should be heading back to Gotham.

“I can’t, I just came to say hello, that’s all” You said, eyeing the door.

“We haven’t seen you in years Y/N-” Kara started.

“ let your mom know how are you-” Eliza said walking to you.

“I’m fine, see?” You said, turning around in a mocking way.

“amazing, splendid, living the best time of my life, yay!” Kara frowns at your words.

“you smell like cigarette-”

“I thought you stop smoking!” Your mom said, the same disappointed look you are were used to get from, well, everyone. Coming back was a bad idea.

“coming here was a bad idea, I’m going back home-” You say walking to the door, not caring about your family protests.

“This is your home!” Eliza says.

“It was good to see you and all, take care you two, Kara punch Alex for me please-” You said now standing in front of the door.

“no wait! , don’t go yet, just stay a little bit more-” Kara said, grabbing your arm.

“I can’t I have to-” Right when you were about to open the door, it opens itself, revealing the man you hate most.

“Y/N, you’re not going anywhere” A sigh escapes from your mouth.

“Jeremiah, I thought you were alergic to family-”

“I’m not going to let you go back to that bar kid, I thought I told you to stay out of trouble-” You scoff, his presence making want to scream

How he dares to step into this house after all he has done to you and this family?. Kara could see your hands turning into fists, claw clenching and your eyes sending imaginary dagger at him. “I haven’t touched a bar in a long time, and you know a lot about getting in trouble right? you’re the one working with the phsyco after all-How is she anyway? she must be missing her lab rat-”

“Y/N-” He says in a threatening voice, you felt as he was mocking you.

“move” You didn’t sound as yourself anymore, and that scared the Danvers family. Jeremiah shifts uncomfortably in his place, knowing what you were capable of, but also knowing that you would not do anything stupid in front of Eliza or your sisters. He clears his throat and gives you the “listen to me” look pointing his finger at you.

“We’re going to have a nice day as a family-” You tried to get through him but he rest his disgusting hand in your shoulder which you slap away, making Kara and Eliza looked at each other wide eyed.

“Dad, move” You groan, getting all in you to not punch him. Kara was actually scared that you may hurt Jeremiah.

“you’re part of this family Y/N, I don’t care how much you beg, you’re not getting out of here-” That’s it, you’ll get out of here or he’s dead.

“Move! I don’t want to stay here! much less with a traitor like you!” You say, making Eliza gasp and Jeremiah glares at you.

“Y/N!” Eliza exclaims, you didn’t bother to look at her already knowing how distress she is. All that you wanted today was visit your mother and your alien sister, possibly see Alex too and not fight with her, and steal some popstickles from Kara. But nothing went as you planned.

“now move, or I’m going to make you and I’ll enjoy it while I do it so” You say. Kara could hear your heart stammering in your chest and you breathing turning a little uneven, but what it surprise her was the low growl that came out of your throat, she must be things, at least that’s what she thinks….if she only knew.

“You never listen do you?” Jeremiah spats at you, and you smirk. You get out of the apartment, making sure to carve a few words into his skull.

“I do, I listen to everything, and I see everything…I know everything dad” You said, the last sentence making Jeremiah looked at you in surprise, the atmosphere change, you were the one that was playing to be the mouse, and now Jeremiah was the one trembling, as if you were holding your finger in the trigger. You could easily spit all the truth, but they would not believe you. How could they? you couldn’t say “hey mom, dad killed me in order to protect his ass from Lilian, but don’t worry Mama Luthor bring me back from the dead and now I am a freak with crazy powers that I can’t control yay!”

“Y/N?” Kara call you out. Taking out of the glaring contest between you and Jeremiah.

“I have to go now, have a nice day” You mumbled, walking away from your family.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Outside the building was Maggie and Alex, the detective trying to calm down her girlfriend. You rush to the meeting are where Alfred was supposed to pick you up, but you forget that Maggie and Alex were outside.

“Your Dad is at the family reunion, you should run back there, he may disappear again” You say walking away, but Alex was not going to let you go so easily. She used to be the one sticking by your side the most. And when Kara appeared and Jeremiah disappeared, she used to hold you tighter at night, until everything went downhill, and both of you got separate ways.

After Alex got better with the help of J’onn, she tried to fix your relationship with her, but it was too late, you were already packing your things to leave. She blames herself for that everyday, she always has.

“Maggie can you wait for me inside?” Alex asks.

“sure, bye Y/N” Maggie waves at you and you smile at her.

“we need to talk”

“I don’t think there’s anything to discuss” You said, your eyes roaming around the street, searching for Alfred.

“what’s up with you? for real this time, where were you? we were all worried about you! you just disappear one day, if it wasn’t for Clark we would never know you were still alive!” Clark had only found you because you wanted him to. And you’re here standing in front of her because Diana had told you to, the Goddess can be very convincing when hugs and sweet talks are involved, actually, you would do anything she wants, you have a soft spot for her.

“would that even matters? you were busy sleeping in jail or avoiding Kara to even noticed that I left” You said, with more venom in your words that you had intended to. Well, Diana had told you to speak with the truth no matter how bad it was. You spot the black SUV, and start walking, ignoring Alex but like I already said, she was not going to let you go so easily. She grabs your arm, shoving you towards her.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Inside the car

“should we help her sir?”

“she’s talking with her sister, I don’t see why we should help her Alfred”

“well, I think you’re aware of Lady Y/N Danvers condition sir, she can’t be left unsupervised in violet or triggering environments, her arguing with her sister could trigger-”

“I am aware about her ..“condition” Alfred, but she is doing better, she’s not going to snap at her sister, plus.. it does not concern us”

“but sir Diana said-”

“Diana is not her babysitter or her Doctor, drop it”

“yes sir”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“you guys find out that I left a week later, just because the school called mom asking why I was not going” You say. Alex looks at you with pity. She knows her family had fucked up, but everyone makes mistakes!

“you were pretty shy and quiet, sometimes I even forgot you were there-” You scoff, slapping away her hand on your arm.

“oh shut up Alex, I had always spent time trying to talk to you, same as Kara but you always told me to shut up, I didn’t exist for you, let’s keep it that way”

“And that’s the problem!, I don’t even know you anymore!, all these years hoping that you were safe, that you were going to come back, you left just like dad did!” You sigh, running your fingers through your hair. You looked at her, she didn’t look sad, she looked exasperated.

“you pushed me away…don’t play the innocent card Alex…I have to go-” You say, walking towards the car.

“where? where are you going?” Alex asks following you. You didn’t want to tell her, but she would not stop until you tell her so…

“Gotham” You say just a few meters away from the car

“but-”

“keep an eye on dad” You said once you open the door. Alex tried to look inside but you didn’t let her. She frowns at your words

“what? why? he’s okay”

“just…be careful with him, that’s all I’m going to say…be careful” And with that, you left, leaving a very confused and concerned Alex.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~

Alex ends up going back to Kara’s apartment, Maggie waiting outside the door for her.

“she left? are you okay love” Maggie rushes to her girlfriend.

“yeah, goddamit I think she’s in trouble” Alex mutters to her, the detective smiles sadly at her.

“by the looks of it, she’s always in trouble hmm?”

“do you know where Gotham is?” Alex asks. The name sound familiar to her but she couldn’t put a finger on it.

“oh she lives there? that explains a lot” Maggie says, cringing a little.

“what? i-is it bad? it’s a bad place?” Alex says worried, and Maggie just nods at her.

“it’s not the best city to live in-it’s like a major city from crime and-” Kara burst into the door, looking at the Sanvers duo, her face being a mix between sadness and confusion.

“first of all, what the hell just happen” She exclaims making Alex sigh.

“and second… I heard everything, what does she mean by keeping an eye on Jeremiah?”

“maybe she’s just worried about him” Alex says.

“yeah, that’s not possible, she almost tackle him when he stepped in the door, she is really angry with him” Kara says, remembering the beautiful family reunion you two had, and your weird behavior.

“something’s wrong, something’s really wrong with her” Alex says. Maggie puts her arm around Alex’s waist, squeezing it gently.

“I do have that feeling too, what are we going to do?” Kara says, knowing that you weren’t going to disappear so easily this time, she wasn’t going to let you.

“right now, eat, we think about it later, come on Maggie, let me introduce you to my Dad” Alex say, remembering that her dad was there. Kara jumps with excitement.

“oh this is going to be fun!” Meanwhile, you were chatting with your friend.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“did you already have your family reunion?” Bruce asks you.

“why do you care? as long as you know, I could be an orphan” You say, eyeing the bottle of whiskey.

“but you’re not, you have a family…you should be grateful for that” Bruce said, grabbing the bottle and pouring you a glass of it, making you smile at him, he knows you so well.

“…I am…where are we going now?” You ask him, taking a sip from the ridiculous expensive whiskey.

“back to Gotham, Joker’s back up again with his… jokes” You scoff at him.

“are you sure you don’t want to stay? I can deal with the Joker by my own” He says. He knows that you will never admit how much you miss your family, if you’re lucky to have one, then you should with them.

“but who would take care of Harley then?” You say, smirking at him. He glares at you, remembering all the times he has found you sneaking out with the psychotic blonde.

“I can do that too, Lilian is here, and she’s planning something big, normally I wouldn’t care since is not my city…but your family is here…you should stay” You sigh, drinking your glass of whiskey in a row. You looked at him, not enjoying that he had taken the part of big brother with you.

“don’t bother me Bruce…you get all sappy with me” He chuckles.

“There’s a building where you can stay, I’ll send all your equipment just in case and I’ll send your motorbike too-” He says, already knowing that you want to stay.

“you don’t need to do that you know?” You say, counting mentally all the times he helped you.

“of course I do, I owe you that much and….you’re the only person I can bare” He says, now he was the one counting mentally all the times you had saved his ass.

“what about me sir?” Alfred asks, making you chuckle.

“you make me doubt sometimes Alfred” Alfred stopped the car in front of a big and fancy building. Bruce gets out of the car, same as Alfred.

Alfred opens the car’s trunk

“clothes” Says Alfred handing you one bag.

“and money” He says handing you the other bag. You sigh, not really sure of what to do.

“are you sure you don’t need help?” You ask, Bruce just smirks at you and puts a pair of keys in your pocket

“don’t make me change my mind Y/N” He says, walking to the car

“for being so cold and dark…you can be pretty nice sometimes batsy” You playfully say.

“I’m already regretting it” He said, getting into the car.

“if you need a hand with the Luthors, just call”

“will do” You begin walking inside the building.

“and Y/N-” You stop at the door.

“what is it this time?”

“…try to stay away from the bars or I’ll send Diana”

“..no promises”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* THIS SUCKS IM SORRY

858 notes · View notes

the-voice-of-hell · 4 years ago

Text

The Septagram

- Previous - First -

***

The demons had thinned out but the blackberry vines had thickened. Some other plants were affected too. The trees at the side of the road were impenetrable from a combination of blackberry tree trunks pushing up roots, and ivy ground cover that had blown up into tangled curling stacked sheets. The blackberries were too heavy to stand gravity working on them and dropped on the street, creating huge slime traps buzzing with horseflies. Bees and hummingbirds zipped in the flowers above.

The cops and Iphigenia walked their bikes, lifted them when necessary, and all slowed to a modest walking pace. Only the concrete that remained visible at their feet let them know they were still on the right path, with no other signs of civilization visible through the growth.

Jelly Sue remained quiet and unperturbed. Iphigenia wondered about her more. No one had actually seen her eat in the morning and Ippy was starting to remember the blood flowing into her feet. Had it rolled beneath the plaster, over her skin, up into the mouth? Had it absorbed into her skin at its first point of contact? She was worried for her. Someone who needed that much blood spilled around them to wake up - that was a person with a problem.

“Hey Jelly, are you OK? You hungry? Thirsty?”

“No, thank you. How are you, Ippy?”

“I’d feel better if you felt better.”

She flashed a smile. It struck Ippy like a bullet, but then faded into nothing. It was like she was unpracticed at smiling and couldn’t sustain it. Or like it had been a figment of Ippy’s imagination.

They finally got out of the weeds, out of the interminable rise and fall of hill-skirting roads, and were able to mount the bicycles again. At last Martin Luther King Jr. Way South leveled out. The light rail tracks connected with the middle of the street and flowed parallel to them. They would reach Oregon Street very soon.

There were scattered demons everywhere. Some were in houses, some on lawns, some just trucking from point A to point B through the neighborhood. There weren’t any lumped up into crowds, but there were enough to really give the idea they’d replaced the people of this major city. Jelly Sue offered no reaction. Infante definitely had his nerves jacked up.

Park remembered something, as he planned ahead to their debrief. “Iphigenia, Jelly Sue? I haven’t really talked much with you, but these cops we’re going to meet will have some questions. I just wanna know if your answers are going to make us look… suspicious or something.”

Ippy said, “What’s that got to do with us? We can’t control what cops think.”

“I know. Just a few things. So I get that you lost some people, wanted revenge on the murder clubs. It’s the wild west out here, so no one will begrudge you that. But Jelly Sue. What happened to you? Why were you alone in that house, covered with that stuff? What was killing those demons in the hall, outside your room?”

“I didn’t see that. I don’t know.”

“OK. It just seemed like whatever was killing them had to be inside the room where we found you. You were over on the bed, your eyes… covered. It was probably about ten, twelve feet away, by the door. Did you hear something?”

“No.”

“Were you awake?”

“No. Iphigenia woke me.”

Ippy butted in. “Back up off her, Detective. She doesn’t know anything. Satisfied?”

He rolled his eyes. “Not really. They’ll want to know who her family is. How to contact them.”

“I don’t care. She should have all the time she wants to tell us whatever she wants when she wants.”

“Bullshit,” Infante said.

“Cool it, Sergeant!” It felt silly getting all hard-nosed movie cop on a stolen bicycle next to a dolled-up weirdo riding some handlebars.

Ippy pursed her lips to avoid confronting Infante.

Park continued, “If you want to minimize her plight, I don’t care if you lie to them. Say you’re her sister and she’s autistic or something. But hope she doesn’t say anything that blows the story, or things could get annoying.”

“They already are.”

“Am I artistic?,” Jelly asked.

“You’re a work of art, Jelly.”

Park rolled his eyes again, then rolled his tires away from that mess. Then he shot his hand up. “That’s Oregon Street. Let’s announce ourselves, let them call us in.”

No one dissented so he radioed it in. “Tacoma PD to local police. Do you copy?”

“... … ... Copy. Are you here? Over.”

“Should be in your sights, middle of the street. Are you aware of the demons out here? Over.”

“... Copy. Southwest corner. South alley. Knock. Over.”

“Copy.” He gestured the travellers to the right building, as if they hadn’t all just heard it loud and fuzzy.

They rolled into the alley and set down the bikes. There were two dead demons in a heap near the door, blood trailing this way and that. Both wore the marching band outfits. One was a barely humanoid fox with sheep horns, twisted in death. The other looked like a seven foot tall man shrunk to four feet without changing his proportions.

They’d clearly been shot. Everyone knew there’d be corresponding dead cops somewhere around. They were silent as Park knocked on the door.

It hadn’t been as tense as Park suspected. The irregular force within the walls had been too focused on the aftermath of the demon invasion to question any kind of humans in any kind of state. Park and Infante were swept away from the ladies quickly, becoming ensconced in the command situation.

The top floor. Big open spaces, large glass windows. Someone had actually cut out interior walls to make the biggest apartment easier to use as a command center. There were police, soldiers, support techs, and DHS on hand.

The boss was a bit taller than everyone else, taller than Park and more thickly built, with a salt and pepper flat-top. He had a short-sleeved blue uniform shirt mostly concealed by a darker, duller blue bulletproof vest. They contrasted poorly with his pale khakis. He shook their hands with meaty paws.

“Abraham. DHS.”

“Detective Park, Sergeant Infante, Tacoma PD.”

”We finally got boots on the ground in the region and it degenerated into this.” Abraham gestured out the window. “But we’re getting a fix on things. We’ve got some intel that’ll bring a smile to your face. But first I’d like to personally hear your debrief.”

“I’d like to know if people are making it out of lockdown. I was personally responsible for most of the people left in Tacoma when the first wave rolled out.”

“Well… I’m sorry to hear that. It isn’t necessarily bad news, but I haven’t heard about any specific large groups making it out of the state.”

Park sunk in on himself. Infante touched his arm.

Abraham continued, “Some people have been making it out. But that’s part of my debrief for you. Tell me what happened to pull you out of Tacoma.”

“Let’s see… The first wave was those musicians, followed by the soldiers - the most goat-like ones. They have some kind of protection, so that when they’re attacked the person who kills them also dies.”

“We’ve gathered. Fortunately only lost three to it this morning, not long before you got here. A big distraction, we almost forgot you were coming. I had hoped you’d have more men.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Continue.”

“We had to plan quick. Everything was happening at once. I left Colonel James - Army - to follow the demon wave on a motorcycle. Hopefully he lived to give some good intel.”

“Hopefully.”

“Communication was touch and go, but I think Lieutenant - no, First Lieutenant Alameda was going to handle evacuating the civilians. But something else came up right then. Murder clubbers.”

“Their usual MO?”

“No, they were on a parade, heading north. Like they wanted to join up with the demons. On a snap decision, Infante and I followed them. But they did meet up with some demons quickly and then caught us. Infante was taken prisoner, brought to somewhere near the IKEA in Tukwila.”

“I sense I’m missing something pretty dramatic here.”

“I met the woman - the thinner one. She helped me find and free Infante. We killed a lot of murder clubbers and goat demons. I don’t really know how.”

The man turned, arms folded behind his back, and walked to the window. He looked down at the things walking about the streets. Infante and Park followed him but couldn’t see his expression.

“That’s very interesting indeed. Who killed them? Most directly? I need to know.”

“Infante killed at least one, but was detained most of the time. I… didn’t… I killed something like a minotaur along the way to Tukwila.”

“Really?,” Infante asked.

“Yeah. You think I can’t kill a-”

“Focus. That leaves the women, and however many murder clubbers and demon soldiers. Who did what?”

“The thin one. Iphigenia. She killed almost all of them.”

“With guns? Her bare hands?”

“Mostly with a hammer.”

Abraham was quiet facing out the window. A few nearby personnel overheard the exchange and were eavesdropping in a tense zone of quiet. Finally he turned around, smiling.

“That’s quite good of you to bring her to us. Ready for your own debrief?”

“Very much so.”

“The Department of Homeland Security sent me here because I have occult knowledge. The supernatural is real, gentlemen, and some of us have been doing our best to stay ahead of it.”

“Good to hear,” said Infante.

“...So I can bring you up to speed. The murder clubs committed great evils here. Nothing so enormous as World War Two, but something about their souls, this moment in history, the stars… Hard to say, but something about their evil broke open a portal to Hell.”

“It figures!,” said Infante. Park was sober, almost entranced.

“That’s where the other factions came in. It’s my understanding that this Queen Bymaan has generals named Bybaal and Abalaam. Bybaal is disloyal and hoping to take over Seattle, dethrone the Queen. And to do so, he’s enlisting the murder clubs.”

“Not a problem now, are they?,” Park said.

“There are still at least a few hundred left. If they have the mark of Bybaal, the legions won’t be able to attack them unless directed to by Bymaan herself. So that, plus an element of surprise, could be enough for them to accomplish that goal...”

“Great,” said Infante.

“-If they were able. We can’t count on that. They add an element of chaos that complicates my own directives, so I want to take them out.”

“That works for me, too.”

Park said, “Wait, with all due respect sir, what about the chaos out there? I don’t understand how attacking them can help and I can think of a lot of ways it could go wrong.”

Abraham tapped him in the chest. “Don’t be such a sourpuss. We have a few aces in the hole. My occult knowledge, and some heroes.”

“Heroes?” Park’s voice was weak. He had a bad feeling he knew what that meant, and it was more danger for Infante and the civilians.

“Some people have unusual strength, above and beyond the rest of us. It allows them to overcome the power of the death shield. There is no question the woman is one of these people, and Infante may be as well.”

Infante folded his arms across his chest and cocked his head in pleasant surprise. “Nice.”

“Do we have any other heroes, sir?”

“No. But we have a prophet. She’s sequestered at the moment. As there are heroes, there are also people with visions of the future, the present. Technically speaking, clairvoyance.”

Infante and Park looked at each other. Infante understood Park didn’t want to mention his own abilities in that moment and kept it quiet.

Park said, “That’s interesting. So if we didn’t happen in here by chance, you wouldn’t have any of these ‘heroes’?”

“Relax. There are other ways to get things done...”

***

Iphigenia and Jelly Sue dodged the military treatment. A lady soldier showed them to the second floor. The apartments had all had doors removed for ease of being used as barracks. The doors had been bolted over some windows to add a little protection. Ippy didn’t like the idea of a lack of privacy, but it seemed like there were only two guards left on the floor, out in the main hall.

She hoped they couldn’t hear too well. She was thankful the power was on, providing a hum of white noise, but the building was terribly quiet a few floors below the command center.

The apartment they’d been shown to had been previously occupied, and the owner left behind some clothes. They’d be essential. Ippy walked Jelly Sue into the bathroom and leaned against the wall, looking at her.

“We need you to get clean.”

“It’s good to be clean and pretty.”

She smiled. “You’re pretty no matter what, but yeah.” Her smile weakened. “Do you need help? I don’t want to...” She looked around uncomfortably, “...You’re very good at balancing on handlebars, and standing for a long time. But can you take off your clothes? Turn on the shower? I don’t know if you have some problems, I’m sorry.”

Ippy had the most earnest expression in human history, Jelly was blank as ever. But she did glance away and back, as if thinking about something. Remembering? “Helen took off my clothes and put them back on me.”

The tension left Ippy’s face, but now she was surprised, interested. “Was Helen your mother?”

“I belonged to Helen.”

“Mm, OK.” She didn’t know what to think, shook it off, and started unwrapping the lady. Iphigenia became aware of her own dirtiness. The bright daylight wasn’t beaming directly in the window, but still lit the room well. It had a power that revealed details hidden under lamps at night. She could tell the difference between the blood of the murder goblins, the blood of the angels, white plaster dust, plant waste, grotty dried sweat, and more general filth.

She hated it, but her hands were clean enough to do this work at least. Jelly put out her arms dutifully and Ippy removed the angel’s military coat, casting it into the hall. She pushed and pulled her lightly and she complied, turning in place. She unzipped the pink dress but didn’t let it drop, pulling it up over her head and tossing it into the hall on top of the thick black jacket.

Out of the box Jelly Sue. What would it reveal, removing those wrappings? Iphigenia did so with care - especially when she felt she was closest to skin. Some of the wraps had been partially solidified by the plaster, so she got sharp knife-like bangle from the angel’s coat and came back to work it with that.

It came off. In most places, plaster went all the way down to the skin. How could it breathe? She was covered in that stuff, but her skin didn’t become wrinkly and mushroom-like as a normal person’s does beneath a cast. It was perfect, dark brown, smooth beneath the remaining white dust.

Ippy got the wraps off her arms and legs. While she was on the floor she set Jelly on the toilet and tried to find the laces of her boots. She broke up the plaster with the duller end of the knife. It took an agonizingly long time.

Again, the boots came off to reveal flawless feet. Dark brown to a pleasant rosy copper color on the ends of her toes and the bottom of her soles. There were barely any lines to feel, no wrinkles save where Ippy had turned something too far in her prodding inspection.

She isn’t human. Well, you knew this.

Ippy’s head began to swim. This wasn’t great. If she was some kind of blood-draining monster, people would try to hurt her. She bit her hand from the stress of it, squeezed her eyes.

Then she sat up tall, cut her own palm, and asked her, “Are you thirsty?”

Jelly Sue looked from the wound, up to Iphigenia’s face. Her eyelids snapped between the positions like a folding fan, her eyes sparkled with reflected light. “No thank you. I don’t need it yet.”

Ippy squeezed her eyes shut, set the knife aside, flopped back onto the floor. “Damn. Damn, damn, damn.”

She sat back up, stood up, helped the vampire to her feet. “OK. Almost done.” She almost turned to go get herself a bandage, but decided she’d just use the padded cotton body suit on her wound when it came off.

It seemed like it had been glued shut with a small amount of the plaster, rather than seamed. Ippy pulled it apart easily, now that the ends weren’t tied with wrappings. The pads and sheets fell aside like leaves revealing her white-dusted nudity.

There was nothing there. Her breasts were the barest rise, no nipples at all. She had no navel, no pubic hair. Ippy crouched quickly and looked between her legs. To her embarrassment, Jelly spread her legs for a better view. She was smooth, no orifices of any kind.

Iphigenia withdrew and stood on shaking legs, clutched herself. Was this horror she was feeling? Revulsion? She broke out in a crazed smile. “Jelly Sue, are you a doll?”

She put her legs back together and raised her head to look at Ippy. Her eyelids were slow to catch up, like those kind that were meant to close when the doll was reclined, but when they get old, start to stick and click. Her face was impassive. “Yes. I was Helen’s doll but she isn’t here. Am I your doll now, Ippy?”

Iphigenia hugged her close, arms wrapped around her so tight they almost touched her own sides again. “Yes! You’re my doll now and you’re perfect!”

“Thank you.”

***

Abraham led Infante and Park to a whiteboard. Occult symbols were scrawled all over it, with inscrutable notes. A few were familiar, from the pennons and badges of the troops.

“What does it all mean, sir,” Park asked.

“It means you’ll have backup this time. This is the seal of Bymaan. It’s well known in the kind of occult lore you can pick up at Barnes & Noble.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that it tells us she’s a highly ranked queen of Hell. The spiel the heralds rattled off, about Lucifer? She’s right under him along with some other characters we haven’t seen yet.”

“Ugh.”

“Not to worry. I’m ninety percent certain we won’t be seeing them. She seems to be the ruler of one of the cardinal points of Hell - the Northwest. Unless portals open elsewhere in the States, this is probably it.”

Infante gestured to the other, less complicated sigils. “What are these ones?”

“Her two generals. Abalaam, Bybaal. Bybaal is the treacherous one we discussed before. This seal will keep the other fallen angels from attacking the murder clubbers. The seal of Abalaam can have a similar effect, and I want to set it on all the officers in this building.”

Infante shook his head. “Oh no, that seems like a really bad idea, sir.”

“Oh? Are you an occult expert?”

“No, but this is all from the bible, right? You don’t wear the Mark of The Beast.”

“It’s the Number of The Beast not the Mark. I could lay out the numerological correlates for all these symbols, explain to you how this is different, but I don’t have time to give you a master’s degree in demonology. Can you accept a commanding officer’s orders?”

He glanced to the side but didn’t say anything.

Abraham leaned close. “I’ll let you out of it because you’re a hero, right? But don’t let the rest of these guys know. This is challenging enough as it is. New territory for everyone.”

“Yes sir,” he said with no enthusiasm.

Park looked at him sympathetically, then back to the boss. “So we’ll all get this protection, take our ‘heroes’ to wherever the other murder clubbers are, take them out… Then what?”

“We’ll gather more intel at that citadel. See if we can find a way to reverse this. Or at least, understand how our country can come to deal with it. Militarily.”

“Of course.”

Infante flexed his arms then winced, touching his thigh. He quickly tried to play it off, but he’d been caught.

“What’s going on, Sergeant? Wounded in action?”

“Yes sir. Afraid I got bit by one of those snake tails. I don’t…,” he spoke more quietly, “I don’t know what to do, if it’s a problem or what.”

Park said, “God, I can’t believe that wasn’t the first thing we told you. Do you have an infirmary?”

“Yes, by all means. Come with me...”

Abraham snapped out some orders and they were whisked down to the third floor, and medical assistance.

***

Bybaal couldn’t rest. He had his queen’s orders to attend, and his own designs as well. But by early afternoon he’d finished casting spells to the corners of the land, causing the alien plants to grow into massive barriers, finished the works that had been commanded of him. He needed only to put the finishing touches on his own workings.

The big IKEA building was streaked in white and crust from top to bottom. Feathers swirled in eddies around it, bits of eggshell joined the grit of asphalt. Pigeons, starlings, and sparrows flew in and out constantly - a great cloud forming above. Some were abnormally large, grown crazed, snapping smaller birds out of the air.

Inside, Bybaal knew they were fucking. It was an unnatural orgy leading to magically-enhanced incubation. He was breeding a force of servant beasts for his own ends. Of course, if discovered, he would pretend it was for his queen. But that wasn’t going to be a problem.

He held up a hand and the invisible demons set him down on the ground. He walked past them, paying them no attention, his eyes drawn to the spectacle. “What have I done? Hahaha. This is reprehensible.” He whistled high and loud.

A freakish parade of demons in electric blue IKEA shirts and khakis came bustling out of the nearest door and hopped around him in ecstasy. “What would you have of us, Great Bybaal?,” they cried.

“Stop this capering. Line up.”

They tried to comply, but their feet tapped and bounced, hands jiggled. These all had bird heads - a thrush, a shrike, an osprey, an ostrich.

“Good enough. Now. I would like a steed. Have you a bird large enough to ride?”

They shook their heads and looked at each other in terror. Would he take out his rage on them?

“Hm, I do not love that. But I can accept it. I will at least need many thousands of your little birds then. Let’s make it starlings.”

“Right away, Great One!”

They bounced and scampered and hustled out of sight.

Bybaal waited, then waved goodbye to his invisible demons. “Meet me at the Cherry Hill Citadel. Have a nice trip.” He smiled as the starlings swarmed all around him.

Some held his red coat in place to avoid drag, others formed a roiling mass about him, slowly lifting him into the sky. He felt them brush and scrape against him. This duty might break them, but the IKEA demons could have just made him a bigger bird. It was hardly his fault.

They flew him to Seattle.

***

Clark woke up with taut muscles. It was that feeling from the day after a good workout - the feeling of the body making itself stronger. He had to look at himself, at his arms and legs. Yes, they were more firm, but the idea he was simply becoming young again was sadly not borne out in his skin. Still, revitalized muscles and super dance powers were nothing to sneeze at.

He did lots of stretches like a good boy. It wasn’t as thrilling as running up the side of a building or leaping over a car, but it was fun to see what he was now capable of. He put a leg back and his head back, standing on one set of toes while the rest of his body formed an extravagant loop. He whipped around and dropped low, spinning one leg below him while hopping over it with the other on each rotation, then switched legs.

A cramp almost formed in his thigh, muscles trembling, ready to seize up. He should have stayed with slower stretches. He dropped in place and waited for the tension to break.

It was still daylight. Perfect. The pre-furnished luxury condo was lifeless and sterile, despite the warm touches it incorporated - the colors and materials. The design was too modernist, in a bland corporate way. But he didn’t feel too horribly out of place. He had always walked among the rich, even if he wasn’t quite one of them, and over the last few decades this had been the look of it.

At last he was able to stand. He sat on a barstool at a granite-topped island near the kitchen. Room service! Nope. It is you who must be of service, Clark. He downed a glass of water, put himself together, and went to meet the people.

He knocked on doors with a few responses, but almost everyone seemed more sleepy than him, was still trying to rest. More evidence he was still a senior citizen. The young man he’d saved from the worm-thing powered through his exhaustion to join Clark as he walked the halls.

“Hey man! What a night! I just wanna let you know how grateful I am that you saved me, so I could have a chance to help save all these people.”

“I know. You said that last night, Charlie.”

“It’s Caden.”

“That’s great. What are the odds anything is still edible down in the kitchen?”

“Already checked. But I can take you to where we got the supplies stashed.”

“What’s this?”

“While we were gathering the people, we raided all the vending machines and better things we could find. Got it in duffel bags.”

“Doesn’t exactly sound five star, but it’ll have to do. Last thing I did before leaving my apartment was flooding the place.”

“You had food?”

“A nice little kitchen, and enough of the kind of things that last.”

“I’m totes jelly.”

“I gather that means jealous?”

“Yeah, the microwave dinners I had were sooo small. No wonder I was always going out to eat. They didn’t last a minute.”

“A pity, friend.”

“Here we are!”

Down a floor and tucked in a tiny lounge at the end of a hall, there were several duffel bags and sports bags jammed with food and supplies. Depending on how you define food. Clark reluctantly ate his fill.

They found Thurston in the equivalent of that lounge two floors down. This one was shadowed by a tree outside the window. He was sleeping flat and slightly askew on a comforter stolen from one of the pre-furnished units.

“Just like an angel,” Clark said.

“You’re a sweet guy,” said Caden.

Clark gave him a funny look, then poked Thurston gently with his foot. He had to clean his shoes after a night of monster kicking, but they had mostly dried.

Thurston’s shirt was spared besmirching, but he did have to lose all dignity for a moment as he was jarred to consciousness, flapping arms and bulging eyes.

“Dem com fi’ we?! J-- hrm,” he sorted himself out, “Excuse me. Clark, Caden, I see there is no emergency, by the lack of urgency in your stances respective. Why awaken me so?”

“Trying to head off an emergency by making good time,” Caden said. “We got a bunch of people to evacuate, right?”

Clark said, “I just missed you. Didn’t sleep well?”

Thurston had half pulled himself up on a chair, but stopped to rest his head as he remembered something. “I bore witness some time after dawn. I saw the Queen.”

“Oh?”

“No way! What happened?”

“She was riding on the highway. We were on the roof. We saw her ride that camel all the way up to that castle. The farthest north on Capitol Hill.” He pushed himself up into the chair and relaxed.

Clark sat down beside him, leaving no chair for Caden. “That sounds like quite a spectacle. How could you see her through the trees? Was she even bigger than they say?”

“Mm, I’d say the camel itself is twenty feet tall at the hump and she adds five or six feet to that? Also it could leap as if gravity wasn’t an obstacle. When it leapt, she broke the treeline. Whatever the case, I saw her headed that way, but don’t know with certainty she went inside.”

“I bet she did! That one is up by Brandon Lee’s grave,” Caden said. “Hallowed ground to, like, defile.”

Clark cocked an eyebrow but otherwise ignored him. “You should take a shower again, put on some fresh clothes.”

Thurston observed Clark’s purloined clothing. They were an ill fit - big loose collared shirt, baggy navy blue dockers cuffed and tightly belted with a tanned braid. He had black athletic socks and his dancing shoes on again. “I do not have any.”

Caden said, “Not a problem! I think there are some spare clothes downstairs in the employee areas of the building. Like, uniforms.”

“Loathe as I am to resemble a bellhop, take me there, sir.”

Clark was annoyed at the prospect of the young man taking his friend away and stood up to tag along. They didn’t get very far. A teenage girl came into the hall, her cell phone in hand, mother trying to calm her down.

Girl said, “Everyone should know! They should be able to decide, with all the facts!”

Mom said, “What if they choose wrong? It isn’t safe!”

Girl said, “Mr. Clark!”

“Mr. Upton, dear, but Clark will do.”

The mother looked uncomfortable but came along. “Sorry, Guenevere is excitable.”

Caden looked cross. “Let’s hear what she has to say.”

Thurston put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

Clark said, “New developments in the mayhem?”

“She’s on the internet now!”

“Some kind of hacker powers?”

“I don’t think so?” She pushed a few buttons on the phone and turned it toward the men.

The news anchor said, “...is what we know. In an effort to legitimize her occupation in Washington state, Queen Bymaan is releasing propaganda on the internet and to news agencies. Understand that MSNBC does not broadcast this to endorse its content in any way - only to help our audience understand what their friends and family in the occupied territory may be going through. You can also find a link to the video on the front page at msnbc.com.” The camera cut to

Queen Bymaan was strolling through a cavernous room with tall, wide open sides that let in bright daylight. It made her flesh glow. The place could have only been one of the towers around the city. She was being filmed by someone or something of human height. A few people stood around, taking in the spectacle. Bare arms displayed her seal. Pigeons flew around, perched here and there, and seemed to also be following her with their heads.

“So this is the garden,” she walked out into a courtyard. It looked like a decent park had been ripped up and planted on a rooftop. Then all the weeds and ground cover had been given cartoon fertilizer to blow up the place. Dandelions and scotch thistles the size of watermelons stretched on thick stalks out of the ivy. The centerpiece was an apple tree, branches bent with cantaloupe-sized apples in metallic gold. The demon queen plucked one and showed it to the camera. “In honor of Eden and the special times we shared there.”

Clark said, “I don’t understand.”

The girl said, “It’s like ‘Cribs.’ She’s making herself a celebrity.”

From the phone, her voice continued, “...onders and more you may behold in The Septagram, once tourism opens. I am very eager to establish a treaty between your empire and ours. For more information, go to our internet site at WeLoveHell.com. Because here in The Septagram, we love Hell and you will too!”

Thurston said, “Has anyone visited the website?”

“It’s down. Too much traffic.”

“See?,” her mom said, “It’s just more propaganda. We shouldn’t be looking at it. It’ll make people think it’s safe to stay here.”

Thurston said, “As long as there is still power to recharge phones and service to bring them the internet, I do not believe anyone will be able to keep this a secret.”

Caden said, “It gets weirder the longer we stay here. We gotta go!”

Clark said, “Hm...” and everyone turned to him, expectant. ‘’Maybe I should pay our new queen a visit.”

Caden said, “No! We need help getting out of the state. What can we do against the monsters? Please, Clark! Mr. Upton!”

Thurston said, “He’s absolutely right, Clark. You know it.”

The girl and her mother just stood there, looking at him expectantly.

“...Fine. But we get you folks out of Seattle and I just might double back. Somebody’s gotta let that lady know the score.”

Thurston’s sense of relief was wrenched. Maybe Clark would take an old guy nap and they could get far away enough to change his mind.

***

#The Septagram

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mirjam-ontour · 7 years ago

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Goolwa - Sealink ferry to Kangaroo Island - KI Ildoura Fruit

30.01.2018 - 04.02.2018

It’s really cool now because of the wind (21degrees) and I’m heading towards Cape Jervis where the ferry to Kangaroo Island departs! A totally different landscape here with hills and different types of forest (pine, blue gum trees…all this trees go to the wood industry) .

I reached the sealink terminal in time to see the ferry’s arrival.

We parked our cars very compact and were asked to pull the hand brake very strong! I took some rescue drops and went to the passenger cabin upstairs! I wondered why all seats in the backrow were occupied and took one of the front row seats!

When we started the captain was talking about „…could be a little bit rough today….“ and I tough „it doesn’t look too bad 🧐“…. after 10 min I knew it better! The vessel was swinging up and down, rolling left and right, crashing from the top of the wave 🌊 down…. and this for me who can hardly stand sitting in a hammock !!! A caring lady brought me some cool cloth laying in my neck and told me to take off my jacket to stay cool! Thank good it lasted only 50min till arrival!! 🤢🤢🤢

Immediately I went to the next coffeeshop for a strong coffee to calm down my belly! And lucky me they had grounded coffee and homemade scones with cream and jam!!

Then I traveled over the island , wonderful alleys from gum trees.

At the south coast on Pennington Bay , very windy but amazing! White sandy beach surrounded by rocks....

You have a sealed main road but if you leave it.... adventurers gravel roads with consolidations

....

On my way to my next host Graham - Ildoura Wild Fruits - (Ildoura means pleasant place) I stopped at Cliffords Honey Farm. Its a shop where you can buy lots of different types of honey ( you won’t believe me how different tastes honey here!) and bee-silly stuff (nippes). They also have a little exibition with beekeeper’s history ... touristy place 🙃but I had a homemade honey-icecream there which was quite good , little bit too sweet for me but interesting!

So I started again in order to reach Grahams place-nearly the middle of the island. It’s close to dawn, so hurry up!! Finally I reached the farm I was happy the long travel is over but what a surprise.... what a mess😳😱

Graham himself is an 63aged man, working on his own all the time, never married and an experienced helpX host. He is really friendly and shows everything to you if you want; his knowledge about the island, its people and secret places is immense! His business is selling honey and homemade food with wild fruits (jam, jelly, fruit leather, tomato sauce in varieties...). So we do some filling, labelling, fruit picking, traveling round the island to catch some swarms (out of a truck tyre = successfully , a bulldozer = couldn’t reach them, back of a truck = hopefully successful)

and do some delivery and small talk! He’s the chef for dinner and he does a good job cooking on the wood oven for tea 🤔 - mainly stew with lots of veggies and meat in it!

And we started to clean the surroundings of the sheds! He is living in two sheds (storage+kitchen room, the other is his working room&office; he lives in a caravan....there is no house here! I’m living in a cabin, thankfully alone but it’s supposed up to 5 people)! Lots of geese are around the house, also chucks and goannas (large lizards round about 60cm) wallabys and opossums!

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tcm · 8 years ago

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Desert Noir: Wherein writer Jeremy Arnold takes us through a weekend at the Arthur Lyons Film Noir Festival in Palm Springs

For the fourth year in a row, I drove to Palm Springs this May not for music festivals or partying but for NOIR. Film noir. Strange as it may seem, the bright, blinding sun and heat of the desert is actually a perfect setting in which to settle down for 72 hours of dark, rain-soaked streets, shady guys in fedoras and the wicked dames who wreck their lives.

For its 18th annual edition, The Arthur Lyons Film Noir Festival offered 12 classic movies (11 of them in 35mm prints), from Thursday evening, May 11, through Sunday afternoon, May 14. Named for the longtime (and now deceased) Palm Springs resident and film historian who founded it, The Arthur Lyons Film Noir Festival is presented at the Camelot Theater by the Palm Springs Cultural Center and programmed and hosted by film historian Alan K. Rode. Rode is also director/treasurer of the Film Noir Foundation, founded by Eddie Muller, who was also on hand to present some of this festival’s screenings. Eddie, of course, is the host of TCM’s new Noir Alley series, which airs every Saturday morning at 10am, and Turner Classic Movies was one of the festival’s official sponsors this year. A third host, film scholar Foster Hirsch, is also on the Board of Directors of the Film Noir Foundation.

Joining noir experts Alan, Eddie and Foster for some of this year’s films were special guests Monika Henreid (daughter of Paul Henreid), Sara Karloff (daughter of Boris Karloff) and actor Andy Robinson.

I always enjoy making the trip to Palm Springs for this festival because it has a wonderfully relaxed atmosphere. The screenings are always pretty full, but there’s never a rush to get in. The Camelot Theatre has comfy, spacious seats and a nice, big screen (plus good popcorn). The films are spaced out at 10am, 1pm, 4pm and 7:30pm, and with short running times it’s easy to head back to the hotel or go grab a meal between shows and still get back in time for the next picture. And finally, everyone you meet is incredibly nice and enthusiastic. I really couldn’t recommend it more highly for classic movie fans.

Visit the festival’s website for more information and mark your calendars for May 2018!

Meanwhile, here’s a brief rundown of the movies and presentations I took in this year...

THURSDAY, MAY 11

HOLLOW TRIUMPH [also known as THE SCAR] (’48) opened the festival and looked great in its 35mm print. I’ve always loved this movie for its utterly crackpot story (even in an era of movies FULL of crackpot stories!) and for the work of its leading man, Paul Henreid, who also produced (and partially directed, uncredited). As guest Monika Henreid explained in conversation with Alan Rode, her father liked the script because it gave him a chance to stretch himself. He wanted to move away from the debonair, romantic, Continental leading man that he had played so well in CASABLANCA (’42), and NOW VOYAGER (’42) and had been asked to play again and again ever since. In Hollow Triumph, Henreid is bad—twice over! The script by Daniel Fuchs has him playing TWO bad guys. Monika Henreid explained that the studio, Eagle-Lion, asked her dad to produce this picture as well as star in it because it was so low-budget that they couldn’t come anywhere close to his usual acting fee. This way, they were able to pay him to do both. Henreid enjoyed having the extra level of creative control, and Monika said he was “all over” this movie down to the choices of songs and operas heard on the soundtrack (his real-life favorites).

Joan Bennett is perfectly cast in a complex role and HOLLOW TRIUMPH is satisfyingly layered with delicious ironies. Henreid’s principal character is simply fated to not win, and there’s nothing more “noir” than that—except perhaps noir maestro John Alton’s brilliant cinematography.

Following the screening, there was a friendly catered reception outside the theater to celebrate the opening night.

FRIDAY, MAY 12

Friday morning started with THE CHASE (’46), but having seen it recently, I opted for a little bit of “vacation” time and instead ambled to the Camelot a little later, for the 1pm screening of SIDE STREET (’50). This exceptional Anthony Mann directed picture, as Rode proclaimed in his intro, is one of the ultimate “shot on location in New York” noirs. Mann uses the claustrophobia of the city to great affect as he follows the story of Farley Granger’s mailman inadvertently getting mixed up in a mess far beyond his planning when he succumbs to the temptation of stealing “only” 200 bucks.

I love how the opening montage of New York skyscrapers comes back to figure prominently in the elaborate car-chase finale. The opening shots are not mere decoration or throwaway images; they function as a kind of unconscious visual foreshadowing, and their reappearance gives the film a satisfying visual unity. SIDE STREET was shot by Joseph Ruttenberg, a reminder that even without his frequent collaborator John Alton, Mann’s films were breathtakingly visual and dynamically lit and framed, proving Mann’s chops as a visual stylist himself. (Of course, Ruttenberg was also one of the great cameramen.)

Next up was ALL THE KING’S MEN (’49), which as Foster Hirsch said in his intro was “not visually noir, but philosophically, politically, emotionally noir.” Indeed, to see Broderick Crawford’s Willie Stark—modeled by novelist Robert Penn Warren on 1930s political populist Huey Long—racing to the top of the political world by the foulest of methods, I was not only reminded of the still-topical aspects of the story but of the way film noir can be described as a “world.” It’s as if Stark, who begins with his heart in the right place, falls into the noir world, is seduced by it, and can’t get out, or even know enough to want to get out. He catches the noir “virus,” which is very hard to cure.

Eddie Muller was back on hand to conclude the day with the stylish BLACK ANGEL (’46), because what would a film noir festival be without an appearance from Dan Duryea?!

SATURDAY, MAY 13

Saturday began with somewhat of a rarity, the “nuclear noir” SPLIT SECOND (’53), in which escaped convicts Stephen McNally and Paul Kelly take shelter in a Nevada ghost town with four hostages while an atom bomb test is set to go off less than a mile away in mere hours. This was the first film ever directed by Dick Powell, and as Foster Hirsch said in his introduction, Powell’s direction is as clipped, efficient and no-nonsense as his portrayal of Philip Marlowe was in Murder, My Sweet, which of course had represented another shift in talents for the former crooner Powell. He directs excellent performances by all involved here including Arthur Hunnicutt, who seems to have wandered in from the set of a nearby western with his welcome, grizzled, western humor. Hunnicutt and everyone else are helped enormously by a tight script with the usual superb dialogue from William Bowers, one of the best dialogue writers in Hollywood history. If you ever get a chance to see any movie written by Bowers, take it. Is Split Second “noir”? Well, its visual look shifts from flat and bright to deep and shadowy when the hostage portion of the story begins and the ever-present knowledge of that atom bomb about to go off certainly lends fatalism, so I would say a resounding “yes.”

The 1pm screening was William Cameron Menzies’ excellent and little-known Columbia film ADDRESS UNKNOWN ('44). Well, perhaps not that little-known anymore - I had seen it just six weeks earlier at Noir City Hollywood, so no need to see it again here. But it’s well worth seeking out should you get the chance. Set in the years before World War II, it chronicles the dissolution of a close friendship between two German men and their families as the rise of Nazism tears them apart. Masterfully shot by Rudolph Mate, later a fine director himself, this one will stay with you.

MEET DANNY WILSON (’52) is another of those movies whose “noir” status is debatable at best, but as Eddie Muller said, “Any movie with Raymond Burr can be placed in a film noir festival.” Fair enough! He plays a gangster who spots the singing talent in Frank Sinatra when others seem unable to (for some strange reason) and signs him to a contract for his nightclub and beyond. Shelley Winters is a heart-of-gold chanteuse and the result is a “noir-stained musical.” This was Sinatra’s first credit to really show he could act dramatically, outside of pure musical roles, although he does sing six songs here extremely well.

Saturday evening, I got to meet the Scorpio Killer and lived to tell the tale. And he was actually a perfectly nice guy. Andy Robinson’s film debut was in DIRTY HARRY (’71) as that famous screen killer, but this night he was in Palm Springs for another ’70s classic, CHARLEY VARRICK (’73). I’d never seen this one, even though it’s directed by Don Siegel, one of my favorites. It did not disappoint. It has an entertaining story, terrifically taut action scenes, welcome humor, moves right along and it features a superb cast, starting with an unlikely Walter Matthau as a very clever bank robber who has a way with the ladies. Siegel originally offered the role to Clint Eastwood, who turned it down because he saw no redeeming qualities in the character when he read the script. I find that hard to believe because Matthau imbues the man with sympathetic qualities just by virtue of his own screen persona and the tone of his performance, and I think Eastwood would have accomplished the same. In any case, Matthau is very appealing here. In a conversation with Alan Rode afterward, Robinson said that Matthau was wondering aloud constantly during the shoot about why he was acting in this silly film, but when he saw the finished product he realized it was actually very good.

Robinson, meanwhile, was happy with his role as Matthau’s accomplice right off the bat. Just two or three years earlier, Robinson had been doing “off off off off Broadway” roles, when suddenly DIRTY HARRY “changed everything.” CHARLEY VARRICK was his second feature, and he was off and running in a long career that has focused mostly on television. His role as Garak in STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE was particularly noteworthy and he said that it “changed my career as much as Dirty Harry... I did some of the best acting in my life on DEEP SPACE NINE. That mask liberated me.”

Two other notes about CHARLEY VARRICK: the hood of a car pops open during a chase and that was not planned. Robinson said everyone simply improvised when it happened. And Joe Don Baker has never been better than as the entertainingly ruthless killer named “Molly” he plays here. See this movie!

SUNDAY, MAY 14

The final morning began with DESPERATE (’47), another masterful little film noir from Anthony Mann, but one that is not as often screened as T-MEN (’47), RAW DEAL (’48) or SIDE STREET (’50). This one was really Mann’s calling card, the first that truly bore his full-fledged stamp from beginning to end. Mann co-wrote the story, which follows Steve Brodie’s truck driver as he is tricked into taking part in a heist led by Raymond Burr; things go haywire, and Brodie and his pretty new bride (Audrey Long) must take it on the lam to some relatives in the country... although Burr is not giving up on finding them.

Desperate marks a rare leading role for Brodie, who is probably best known to noir fans as Robert Mitchum’s dangerous partner in OUT OF THE PAST (’47), which was released six months after DESPERATE. He is excellent in this role, as is Raymond Burr who brings more to the part than what’s written. So do Mann and his cameraman George Diskant, of course, shooting Burr from low angles and lighting to emphasize his ominous girth and demeanor.

Mann had little time or money to shoot films like DESPERATE, so he concentrated on the two or three set pieces that he could really show off stylistically, shooting the rest of the film quickly and more straightforwardly so as to allow time for scenes like the superb finale, a showdown between Brodie and Burr that shifts from a room to an apartment building staircase without losing an ounce of tension. Eddie Muller and Foster Hirsch introduced this one together and waxed poetic on some details that only noir fans could love. “This is the best swinging light bulb I know of,” said Foster. “And the best staircase in noir.” To which Eddie added with a grin, “Are we the ultimate nerds or what?”

My final movie was THE BODY SNATCHER (’45), one of producer Val Lewton’s excellent cycle of chillers for RKO. Lewton’s films are usually classified as “horror,” not “noir,” but a case could certainly be made. There may not be a strong sense of fatalism to the proceedings, but stylistically and visually, this looks like many noirs of the period. But really, who cares? It’s a great film, it looked crisp in 35mm and the cast includes Boris Karloff, Henry Daniell and Bela Lugosi, a film lover’s dream.

Karloff’s daughter Sara regaled the audience afterward in her conversation with Alan Rode. I had interviewed her myself at the TCM Classic Film Festival in April and she was as charming and funny as ever. She spoke of her father’s love of gardening and the theater and his work as a founding member of the Screen Actors Guild in 1933. He was one of the twelve founding members and was very proud of this accomplishment because of his own suffering during outrageously long hours on the set before union rules existed to prevent studios from abusing their actors in such ways. She also said that “FRANKENSTEIN was his 81st film, and, as he said, no one saw the first 80!” Indeed, it’s easy to forget that Karloff had such a long career even before his turn as The Monster really “started” it.

Sara also brought along some rare home movies of her father (with herself as a toddler). They included very rare color footage of Boris Karloff in makeup as Frankenstein’s monster. She narrated the home movies expertly, including the funny story of the time her Dad, having shaved his own head to star in TOWER OF LONDON ('39), shaved little Sara’s head while her mother was out of the house one day. Mom was not pleased!

There was a final film in the festival: Jules Dassin’s masterful NIGHT AND THE CITY (’50), one of the quintessential titles in all of film noir, but I had to hightail it out of Palm and get back to the mean streets of Los Angeles. I’m already looking forward to next year. And I hope that now, you are, too.

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imthepunchlord · 7 years ago

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Marinette, best to least fit miraculouses

Since I‘ve done Adrien, want to cover Marinette and what miraculous she clicks best with, and the least fit.

Character study undercut.

Ladybug and Black Cat (former is more natural to her)

What really works for Marinette as a hero is her capability to plan and act. She can take in her situation in and can figure out what to do to save the day and is willing to risk herself for it. That last bit is what makes her work for both ladybug and black cat.

The biggest difference between them is that cat is more action based and self-sacrificing, while LB is more planning and getting involved when necessary. Having both, she can pull off both very well. She has the action and willingness to risk herself for cat, and the calculation and observation for ladybug.

While she can pull both off well, LB is more up her alley. Not just in creativity, but also in how Marinette works. She likes to step back and look at her situation, does like to keep a distance till she has it all figured out, cat though is afar more involved, in the center of the fight, more action based. Ladybug works with her more naturally, and by the situation they’re in, is needed more than cat with the power to restore order.

On kwamis, Tikki and Marinette match a lot more than her and Plagg. Both of them keep a look out for classmates, Marinette is up to go out of her way to help them and Tikki is quick to advise the best way to help and is considerate of them and their feelings. Both also have tendencies to stress and worry over small stuff, like Tikki worrying that Alya knew in Lady Wifi.

With Plagg, Marinette can match with both being selective about duties, and care more about self and her own interest than duty. There are times Marinette doesn’t care about LB duties as much as Tikki wants her to, there’s something else she wants to do more she’s more inclined for it, which Plagg can understand a lot more than Tikki, and encourage, like Bubbler when he backed Adrien going to have fun instead of going Chat. On Copycat, where Marinette wanted to save herself from embarrassment, where Tikki prompted the ceremony, Plagg would’ve been more focused on going to school to get Adrien’s phone.

Between the two, Marinette has the potential for both, but LB is more natural for her in how she works. I can see both providing her confidence in herself, to be comfortable and sure with who she is.

Bee (best out of five)

Out of the five, I find bee strikes with who Marinette is most. Bees are hardworking, team-oriented though can do solo work, productive, creators, are providers, can be a follower but also a leader.

A lot of these traits can be seen in Marinette. She likes to be productive, she likes to be busy, stay focused on her task until the end, to give it her all. And she is a crafter, we have seen a lot of her creations through the show.

She is a provider, often going out of her way to help her classmates. Alix she went to comfort despite being pressed for time, Juleka she sought to have included in the school picture any means necessary, Ivan she went to comfort and support in Origins, and Darkblade she talked to her classmates to hear what they wanted and why they wouldn’t run. She is enough of a provider that Max knows to turn to her for help in Robostus.

She can work on her own, and can work with others, though she does have more of a preference of being in charge than being a follower. When someone else is in charge and she doesn’t agree with the situation, she will step up to manage it herself. Evillustrator she speaks against Chloe not sharing the labor of the project, Horrificator, despite Nino being in charge, it was her who stepped up trying to manage everyone and work things out. And Darkblade, it was Marinette who took control of the situation, saw students to safety and slowed down the akuma getting in. Her initiative, willingness to work with others and a lot of students having faith in her choices makes her a true queen bee of the school.

It’s hard to say what she matches with Pollen, but most likely a good work ethic, taking duties responsibly and watching out for others. And perhaps while both can be as sweet as honey, both can have a real mean sting.

Turtle and Peacock

Turtle and peacock are two that Marinette has traits for, and it can be a little close on which is a better fit for her.

Turtle I’m predicting is a miraculous that revolves around patience, being cautious, grounded, and aware. A protector and a healer. And in some cultures, turtles are symbols of cleverness. Marinette can match turtle well if my suspicion is right, she is someone who is aware of her surroundings, is cautious on her approach, will make the best choice, and when she needs too, won’t get carried away. She watches out for others, see their needs met and they are safe and happy. Turtles act when needed, which matches how Marinette works, acting when she sure it’s time.

Wayzz is a kwami I can see her clicking well with, both of them can be aware of how critical a situation is and knowing that action is needed. Both can have tendencies to worry, of being cautious and unsure till they know things will work out. And when relaxed, both can be silly and up for some fun.

Only thing is that Marinette is someone who stands out a little more, is far more involved. Turtles by nature keep to the back, try to stay out of sight and out of the heat of battle; Marinette though likes to be in that heat, likes to be direct and involved as much as possible.

It’s this trait that has her connecting with peacock. Peacocks are direct, involved, initiative. And another factor is drawing in attention and keeping it. As a leader, Marinette can easily draw people in, she has the energy and charisma for it.

On Duusu she can match the kwami in sensitivity. While Marinette works more logically, she is someone who can be emotional and sensitive and have an explosive temper and be stubborn. it looks like Duusu can match in expression and passion, as well as temper.

Only thing though is that Marinette isn’t a flashy person herself. She does have a presence and can keep eyes on her and be animated and expressive; but she doesn’t strut herself around and want attention 24-7, doesn’t want to impress many people.

With Marinette working more logically and being more aware of her surroundings and thinking things through, I’d say turtle matches more than peacock, especially with Wayzz being another kwami who likes to think things through, a great strength in Marinette.

Fox

Now fox is where we start to get to the least fit. Marinette can pull off fox relatively well, she has major traits to match. She is a planner, she is cunning and clever, she is flexible and agile, she is observant and aware of her surroundings. These are solid traits for a fox to make use of. And while it’s not her preference, Marinette is willing to be crafty, to deceive and redirect the attention of her opponents while she works in the shadows. For sure, she relies on her partner a lot to keep attention while she thinks of a plan.

And Trixx is a kwami she can match with on willing to use less appealing tactics to get what she wants or to help others, like deleting the picture so it’ll be retaken.

But issue though on Marifox is her aggression and involvement. Despite her being clever and she likes to keep a distance to consider her situation, Marinette likes to be a lot more involved than fox should be, can be a lot more direct. She’s not afraid to have and keep the attention, she’s not afraid to get close and personal in a fight, to charge back at her foe and stand her ground.

But, by looks of Volpina, foxes do not stand their ground, she made sure to avoid a physical confrontation which is something Marinette as a character is more than fine to give to anyone. What makes fox a struggle is her directness, how aggressive she can be, her being more inclined to stand her ground instead of dodge around and never get close.

Butterfly

Butterfly I find is the least fit for Marientte. One issue is much the same as fox, she’s too direct, too in the foreground, too aggressive. But the biggest thing is how Marinette works and solves problems.

The idea behind butterfly is to push others to help themselves, to let them stand their ground and have a focus. That is not how Marinette works. She is someone who goes out of her way to solve a problem for someone, not push them to help themselves. Darkblade she doesn’t push for anyone to stand against Chloe, she will stand against Chloe for them, Refleckta she doesn’t go tell Juleka to let the principal know, to demand another picture, she goes to fix this herself. Origins when Fu was crossing the street, she didn’t call out or have anyone else act to save him, she rushed out herself to pull him out of danger.

Marinette is someone who will solve problems for people, not help them solve problems for themselves. It is not her instinct to do so, while she won’t refuse help that’s provided, she is more inclined to act herself than reach out for help. Looking for help takes too much time for her liking, it’s faster and more natural for her to just move, to act, and help then and there.

On Nooroo, he is a kwami that wouldn’t be happy with her because of this. His power is meant to be given out to others, only Marinette is more likely to restrict that power for herself to save the day. I can see him trying to have her try and reach out, but it’s just not her instinct to do so.

Butterfly here goes against who Marinette is and how she works, it’d be the biggest struggle for Marinette and that makes it the least fit for her.

#miraculous ladybug #Always a Hero No Matter the Miraculous #miraculous swap #character study #analyzing #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #speculation #kwamis #miraculous

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