#of the bigger ones i have yet to watch men with brooms and a bunch of his post-2010 stuff!

[variousqueerthings]

watching a PG thing will go something like: "beautiful man is very competent in whatever field he's in. beautiful man appears in the narrative in a way where other people notice his first entrance and one of the first things noticed is how beautiful he is. beautiful man is in some way alienated from the community he is in due to the way he acts and/or his background. beautiful man is unhinged and power structures dislike him intensely for being very honest. beautiful man has a non-normative relationship to sex which stems from a variety of reasons explored in the narrative. main woman would really like to have sex with beautiful man but he's holding back for some reason or other. beautiful man is very very happy for main woman to take charge in all things though and will follow her lead. beautiful man enjoys getting manhandled. there may be ghosts (literal) or ghosts (metaphorical) but this is optional.

[longitudinalwaveme]

Len Snart’s Creepy/Pathetic Proposals, Part 3

For this post, we will be looking at Flash #140, “The Heat is On--For Captain Cold. It was published in November 1963, and was written by John Broome and drawn by the inimitable Carmine Infantino.

In addition to being another story where Captain Cold creeps on pretty women, this story also features the first appearance of his fellow Rogue Heat Wave, alias Mick Rory. 

The comic opens with Barry and Iris at the latter’s apartment, watching TV. Iris, being Silver Age Iris, suddenly turns off the television. “I didn’t like the way you were staring at that girl, Barry Allen!” (The program he was watching featured a celebrity named Dream Girl). 

Barry proceeds to lodge his foot firmly in his mouth. “I wasn’t staring! I was just waiting for Dream Girl to turn around!” He then has to quickly explain that the Flash “told” him that the Willens and Kohl Law Firm asked the Flash if he could find the heir of Mr. Varner, a wealthy mining magnate whose only child was believed lost in a shipwreck. 

The child in question had a diamond-shaped birthmark on the back of her neck. If she can be found, she gets a two million dollar trust fund (roughly $16 million in today’s money) and an additional $10,000,000 (roughly $80 million) will go to charity. If she can’t be found before the end of the next day, all the money will go to a couple of “ne’er-do-well” relatives of Mr. Varner’s. Why he didn’t just arrange for all the money to go to charity if she wasn’t found is anyone’s guess. But regardless, that’s why Barry wanted to see Dream Girl’s back. 

Iris, surprisingly, immediately accepts this explanation like a reasonable person and even turns on the TV again...but instead of Dream Girl’s program, they see an important news broadcast that reveals that Cold has broken out of prison (again). This time, he escaped by using “one of his fantastic cold guns, which he manufactured out of spare freezer parts in the prison workshop!” WHY WAS NO ONE SUPERVISING HIM TO MAKE SURE THIS DIDN’T HAPPEN? 

Barry leaves Iris and promptly changes into the Flash to go on the hunt for Captain Cold. 

We then cut to Captain Cold’s hideout in a cave. It’s decorated by a humongous picture of Dream Girl’s head and neck (seriously, it’s like as large as he is.) 

“There! It’s the largest picture of Dream Girl I could find! Of course, she’s everybody’s dream girl now, but soon things will be different...and she will be mine alone! I admit that at various times in the past I’ve--ah--thought myself attracted to other girls! But the feeling I had for them pales into insignificance compared to what I feel for Dream Girl!” 

Len Snart reads women’s magazines in prison. Make of this what you will. He also broke out of prison solely to woo her away from the Flash, who is currently her dream man. So, how is he going to do this? He’s going to commit crimes and fight the Flash, that’s how! 

“Why, I’ll make a sap out of the Flash! I’ll pull off crimes right under his nose! I’ll show him up for the stumblebum he is--compared to Captain Cold! And by doing that, I’ll prove to Dream Girl that I’m really the man she thought Flash was! I’ll become her dream man--and nobody else!” Len, that’s insane. 

Cold decides to get her attention by robbing the exiled government of Guanador (one of DC’s many fake countries), who are “arriving here in Central City with all the bank notes they could steal-I mean all they could carry away with them-from the Gauanadorian Treasury!” 

The next day at 8 AM, Cold strikes. “No criminal in his right mind would dare try anything here today--against all these forces of law and order. But as it so happens--I’m not in my right mind--I’m in love! Ha ha!” Unfortunately for him, the Flash pops up. “At last! My long night’s vigil has paid off! I’ve come across Captain Cold!” In other words, Barry ran across the city all night for almost no reason. Cold didn’t do anything until 8 AM the next day!

Before Flash can defeat his rival, however, he is shot in the back with a blast of intense heat. Heat Wave is on the scene!

“How about that hot reception, Flash? Allow me to introduce myself, the one enemy you will never conquer! Heat Wave--at your service!” Mick is perhaps a bit overconfident here. 

For some reason, instead of jumping into action, Flash stands around long enough for Heat Wave to blast him again, knocking him unconscious. (“That sizzling blast! Hitting me with the force of a pile-driver--uh!”) Cold and Heat Wave then team up and escape the scene of the crime. 

The two go to Captain Cold’s cave hideout, where Heat Wave explains that he used to be a fire-eater in the circus, but that he ��lost his taste for the work”. 

“I created my own uniform--and my weapon--a heat gun!” Yes, this is all the explanation the comic is going to give you for this. Note that his gun isn’t technically a flamethrower at this point, either, so you can’t really handwave it away that way. 

And then the never-ending puns begin. “It sure is hot stuff, Heat Wave! You know, we should make a good team...and since you have no hideout of your own yet, you’re welcome to share mine!” The Flash Rogues have always been oddly chummy in this way; I’d believe that basically any of them would have made the same offer. 

Of course, things basically fall apart immediately thereafter when Heat Wave reveals that he’s also in love with Dream Girl. “She’s the reason I gave up fire-eating! I was determined to win her love! And I knew the only way to do it was to show up Flash--her dream man!” Heat Wave and Captain Cold are so similar they even share the same nonsensical logic...but man, at least Cold was already a crook. Heat Wave gave up an established career for this insanity!

The two shoot at each other (to basically no effect, since their blasts cancel each other out).

Cold: You!? You’re just a big nothin’! Dream Girl will be mine--and nobody else’s!” 

Heat Wave:  And you-you’re just a cold-hearted Romeo!

I think Cold won this round of insult-slinging, Heat Wave. Your insult didn’t even make sense.

However, instead of continuing to fight, the two instead decide that whoever commits the most spectacular crimes will win the girl. “As far as I’m concerned, Heat Wave, that bet is ice-cold!” The puns….the puns! Make them stop! 

Flash runs around looking for the pair of criminals, who have apparently been causing enormous damage to the city because of their confrontation. Note that the art completely fails to convey this. 

When the Flash shows up, the two crooks promptly call off their rivalry in the face of a bigger threat, planning to take it up again as soon as Flash is defeated. Each hits Flash from one side, creating the awesome-looking image from the cover. 

However, Flash isn’t down long, as he uses his control over all his molecules to conduct the cold to the side of his body being blasted by the heat gun and vice-versa. Sure, that makes sense. SCIENCE! 

Flash then creates a suction vacuum that knocks the two crooks together. Flash takes them back to prison, where both men explain their insane motivations for the crime spree that did a bunch of damage that we didn’t see. 

Flash then goes to meet with Dream Girl, who...shock! Surprise!...is actually Mr. Varner’s long-lost daughter. She has a picture of herself with the birthmark and had it removed only recently. Dream Girl also grew up in an orphanage and has a fear of water, which could be explained by the boat crash she survived. Dream Girl-real name Priscilla Varner-inherits the trust fund, charity gets a lot of money, and the day is saved. 

The issue ends with Barry and Iris on a moonlight drive, where Mean Silver Age Iris tears down her boyfriend. “Tell me, Barry, don’t you feel ashamed sometimes to be so slow-moving and lazy when the Flash--” Barry cuts her off here: “Gosh, Iris! We can’t all be the Flash!” WHY. ARE. THESE TWO. DATING?

Stay tuned for part 4! 

[rex101111]

@sevi007 little thing little thing~~~

---

Dante wasn’t too proud to admit when he was in over his head, he had went through too much hell, both figurative and literal, to get done in by his own ego.

And fighting this witch? This witch which he was hired to hunt and was proving to be more trouble than the promised pay because she was firing four guns at once and pulling all sorts of odd weapons out of nowhere and was also summoning demons out of portals made out of her hair? That, Dante figured, was being way over his head.

“Oh come on dear!” The aforementioned witch called out with a amused tilt to her voice, English accent carrying in the air towards him, “this can’t be all you have can it? Not after all that sass.”

He dodged another magic infused bullet with a smirk, “not on your life!” He fired back with Ebony, his shots meeting hers in mid air with a spark of lead and brimstone, “what kind of gentleman would I be if I disappointed a lady after talking a big game?”

He wasn’t afraid of losing, per say, but he really didn’t expect any of this from what the man who hired him and Vergil had told them about her, not least of which that she had a partner, a white haired partner who was causing a mess of her own with his brother a ways into the forest, sounds of crashing trees and broken wood soaring through the air.

He was gonna ask for a bigger pay after this, today was going so well too..

A burning sting in his shoulder pulled him out of his reverie as the tip of a red katana bit into his shoulder before he jumped back with a huff and brought his own sword to bear, clashing against the witch, who’s smirking face was only an inch from his.

“You know,” she began, her eyes taking him in with a cold detached examination that didn’t match her light tone or easy smile, “it’s been a long while since I’ve seen a demon as...agreeable to look at as you,” her smile grew a bit with his flattered scoff, “usually you lot look like a cross between a lizard and a cockroach.”

“Thanks, I get it from my old man,” he placed more weight on his side of the clash, his opponent beginning to visibly struggle against his strength, “now you mind explaining where you keep pulling all these cool toys of yours?” He eyed her hair, both on her head and the long strands covering his body, “don’t tell me a classy lady like you is pulling them out of a pointy hat when I ain’t looking? That’d be way too cheap.”

“You think I got here on a broom? You need to get your head out of those storybooks my friend,” she leaped back from him, bringing her sword low to strike under his guard, “before you end up losing it!”

He brought his arm up to stop the sword, the blade piercing right through his flesh until the tip was right under his nose, “note taken!” He pulled the blade out and grabbed it, his wound healing in a flash, “you still haven’t answered my question yet,” he let go to let her gain some distance before he closed it, their weapons clashing again and again as they went at each other, “using hair as a medium for summoning is...new to me, as for as I know.”

“Us ladies have our secret ways,” she winked, “playboy like you would know a thing or two about that, right?”

“You don’t know the half of it...”

They went at it like this for a while, Dante pulling some of his own extra arsenal out to match the witch, gauntlets striking claws of fire and lightning, dual swords getting tangled up in a large purple snake whip, on and on they went, neither willing to yield.

Dante clicked his tongue as he took a quick breath to access something that could even the odds, his demonic blood boiling as his skin and muscles shifted and warped into chitin and armored scales, his burning breath flowing through sharp teeth.

“That’s more like what I was expecting!” The witch called out, her fingers twitching with violet sparks of magic as she let the hair on her head down to flow over her back, “although now that I get a good look at you I was sure I sensed some humanity in there, so what poor fool did you disembowel for that power boost?”

Dante bit back the sharp, insulted remark he wanted to throw at her, shaking his head with another click of his tongue, “you’re way off base babe, this power is all natural,” he rolled his shoulders, his leathery wings spreading from his back to shadow over him, “old man was a demon, mother was a human, best of both worlds.”  

The witch let out a disbelieving huff, “well! Then your mother was either an all powerful witch herself, or a great big fool.”

Dante’s eye twitched, a part of him reminding him she was just trying to get under his skin, his demonic half seething that she was succeeding and had earned herself a decapitation, ignoring them both he bared his teeth at her, “watch it lady, you don’t know shit about Eva Redgrave.”

The witch stopped for a moment, mostly over the name Redgrave, before she hummed deep in her throat and had her magic thrum through her flowing hair, the strands working themselves into a circle behind her, “well then, why don’t you teach me?”

Dante got into a proper combat stance for the first time since the fight started, his demonic power flowing through him and sharpening every corner of his body it passed to a razor edge, his sword glowing red.

The strands of hair attached themselves to the witch’s shadow, the butterfly wings on it’s back growing as they pulled away, as they pulled something out.

Something big.

Another demon, this time without the use of some Enochian incantation, rose up high above both fighters, dressed in a black dress that flowed near its, her, feet. Large, multicolored gossamer wings grew out of her back, shadowing Dante as he gripped his sword tighter.

She looked down on him, light blue skin and solid red eyes staring him down with unbidden contempt and unchecked sense of superiority. Her hair was done up like a large pair of butterfly wings, her nails were long and sharp and blood red, and every inch of her was spewing out dark magic by the bucket full. Dante was sure that were it not for his demonic lineage, just being in the same 4 square miles as this demon would have him collapsing from exposure to it alone.

As it stands he just sniffed at the towering demon, letting out an amused breath, “look at that...” he muttered to himself quietly, “she’s got wings...”

“Oh she’s got more than that.” The witch smirked, looking up at her summoned help, “Madama Butterfly! If you would please teach this punk some manners?”

“With pleasure.” The demon spoke with a booming yet silk smooth voice, her hand pulling back in a punch that Dante was sure was going to feel like a mountain hitting him upside the head if he didn’t move right now, her face twisted into a feral grin...before she stopped, her eyes widening as she looked more closely at her target.

Dante was still bunched up in nerves over the anticipated strike, but he dared to look right into the demon’s eyes, seeing recognition filling her expression.

“...Sparda?”

Dante stopped short, “what?”

A crashing sound came from behind and to his left, followed quickly by a blur of blue and black that turned into his brother as soon as it hit the ground with a groan.

He looked behind him to smirk at his twin, “hey Vergil! How are you handling your dance partner?”

Vergil glared at him for a moment before he turned to where he flew from with a hand on his sword, mouth in a grim line as his body took on a demonic form, “I’m afraid I have two left feet, Dante.”

“I could have told you that.”

“Dante.”

A gust of wind, “No getting distracted now!”

No sooner after that sudden call, the second witch burst out of the trees and fired at his brother, Vergil deflection the shots before retaliating, the two caught up in a whirl of steel and magic.

Madama Butterfly was now looking at his brother, her jaw beginning to hang loose as she started putting things together in her head, “Dante, Vergil...it can’t be...” she whispered, a corner of her lips tilting up, “I thought Mundus was talking out of his ass...are they really...?”    

“Butterfly!” The first witch called out, annoyed and confused, “what’s got your head twisted the wrong way? You know this one from somewhere?”

“Doesn’t ring any bells for me.” Dante called out, hand still on his sword, “I’d like to believe I wouldn’t forget a face like that.”

“Cereza!” The witch’s partner called out mid-clash with Vergil, “are you still playing with that little hunter? Wake up on the wrong side of bed this morning?”

“Don’t ignore me!” Vergil called out, voice tight with annoyance, striking at his enemy in quick succession and putting her on the offensive, “focus on your opponent if you want to keep your head, witch.”

“No need for such a short temper!” The witch called out, but obliged him with meeting his attacks with more vigor, “I never ignore my dance partners...”

“Be serious Jeanne!” The witch, Cereza, called out, “these boys are tougher than they look!” 

“But of course they are.” Butterfly boomed of a sudden, chuckling deeply as she crossed her arms and looked at the two men, “what else did you expect from the progeny of the legendary dark knight?”

Dante and Vergil stilled, before sharing a hard look with each other, then both staring down the massive demon with suspicion, a denizen of hell with a personal connection with their father never boded well for either of them.

Cereza and Jeanne, on the other hand, looked stunned, staring confused at Madama Butterfly before Cereza bit out a laugh, “what, you don’t mean, Sparda?” She looked back and forth between the two brothers, both still in demonic form, in disbelief, “the Dark Knight Sparda? The one who turned against hell, sealed the main entrance off for eternity, and vanished off the face of the planet centuries ago, that Sparda?”

Jeanne shook her head, “that’s impossible! Not even the oldest texts from the Umbra Witches or Luman Sages had any record of the Dark Knight...” She trailed off as she looked at the brothers again, eyes uneasy with implications, “...got involved with a human woman, besides the priestess he sacrificed to close the hellgate.”

“Human historical records are always lacking,” Madama waved it off easily, “even ones that were directly involved with celestial and infernal affairs, I’m not surprised my baby brother managed to vanish when he felt like it.”

It took a moment for her words to sink in for all present, the witches having their jaws hang open and guns drop from their fingers as they stared at the twins. The brothers themselves were not doing much better.

Dante’s sword drooped in his grip, his eyes wide and face blank as his demonic form faltered and his human features came back to focus, “bu-baby-”

“Brother?” Vergil finished, also back in his human form, grip shaky on Yamato’s scabbard, his usual stoic facade in pieces, “did you say brother?”

“Oh that’s right! I never did introduce myself did I?” Ignoring the brother’s increasing confusion and shock, the demon lowered her head until she was eye level with her, apparent, nephews, “I’m Madama Butterfly, your useless father probably didn’t bother to tell you two too much about me, but you better believe I am ecstatic too meet you at last,” she grinned, her large, sharp teeth glinting in the scarce light that filtered through the thick canopy of the forest, “pleased to meet you, Dante, Vergil, you can call me your auntie Butterfly!”

Silence. Utter stillness from all four former combatants.

Each shared a look with their partner, than with their opponent, and then with their partner’s opponent. before finally all converging as one on the massive demon, only one question escaping the maze of confusion this situation had become;

“AUNTIE!?!?”

---

okay so small thing might have been a lie but hey this was fun!