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itswildwinters · 3 years

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I’ve been tagged in several Seven Sentence Sunday and Snippet Sunday posts, so I’ll just post a cute and funny snippet of my second @bottomlouisficfest fic that is coming out January 5, 2021!

Thank you @hadestyles, @mugglemirror, @cyantific, @theisolatedlily and @mercurial-madhouse for tagging me, I really appreciate it!

✰ enjoy!

He doesn’t hear about the asshole who took his clothes out of the washer until three days later. He’s been down at the grocery shop to buy instant noodles, except there were only chicken flavoured ones, which he doesn’t like. In the end he’s decided to buy several pints of ice cream, way too many chocolate bars, a packet of frozen green vegetables (to act healthy), and other things that he doesn’t need. The whole reason for those is quite simple; Louis hates going to the grocery store and coming out of it empty-handed, because he flatly refuses to have made the journey from his place to there for nothing. He huffs and drags the bag behind him as he goes up the stairs, twirling his key around his index finger.

He’s fully prepared to meet his bland-looking door, but instead of that, he comes face to face with a six-feet tall man who is leaning against said door, arms crossed over his chest and biceps bulging deliciously. The man has got short, curly hair that’s slightly longer on the top, and even from where Louis stands, they look soft, shining under the light of the day. His jaw is sharp, his nose straight, and Louis can tell the man’s painfully attractive.

Louis can be cute. He can flutter his eyelashes and sway his hips and make that man who happens to be exactly his type a drooling mess, but, well, Louis’ feet hurt from walking and he wants a cuppa and lounges on his sofa while watching Skins. It’s not surprising he doesn’t even bother showing he’s interested, he simply marches to the man and raises an eyebrow.

“What on earth are you doing leaning against my door?” Louis asks, cocking his hips and jostling his tote full of groceries.

The man’s eyes snap to him and, oh, they’re of a gorgeous green colour. Louis tries his best to ignore them, which is proven easier than expected when he sees that the man looks somewhat angry, confused, and conflicted all at once. For a moment, no one speaks, and Green Eyes keeps staring at him as if Louis grew a second head. Louis has to prevent himself from sighing, because the man’s fucking slow, and he really wants to get inside his home and never comes out of it.

When Green Eyes finally speaks, Louis blushes. It’s a deep, slow voice that Louis’ sure is perfect for dirty talking. But the fantasy quickly fades when Green Eyes squares his shoulders, stares down at him and opens his mouth, pronouncing words that pierce through the fog that has settled in Louis’ brain.

“Do you live in flat 301?”

Goddamnit. Louis widens his eyes and slightly shakes his head, and he can have as well said duh, that’s exactly what he wants to convey. He’s asked the giant Adonis what he’s doing in front of Louis’ door, and Green Eyes still has to ask this. A bit passes, before Green Eyes lets out a low chuckle that sounds vaguely disbelieving.

“Yeah, right,” he drawls, shaking his head. Louis is offended, because what in the world is going on. Letting go of his grocery tote, and trying not to wince as it topples over and its content spreads across the floor, Louis crosses his arms and gives Green Eyes his best and most intimidating glare. He hopes he looks the part, despite the fact several pints of ice cream are rolling away and making circles behind him.

“What is this supposed to mean? What’s your problem, mate?” he snaps, taking a step closer to Green Eyes and stubbornly ignoring the man’s cologne which smells heavenly. It’s quite hard to stay angry when said anger is aimed at a ridiculously attractive stranger, but Louis gives himself credits, because he plays his part incredibly well.

“My problem?” Green Eyes sneers, and Louis wants to punch him in the face. Louis waits for Green Eyes to speak again, but instead of that there’s a piece of paper that’s thrusted in his face, making his eyes cross for a few seconds. He scoffs and leans back to get a proper look at the bright green square paper.

Honestly, Louis is quite ashamed it takes him so long to recognize his own post-it. But when he does, he feels himself pale. He snatches the paper away and stares hard at it, then he looks up at the Adonis, and keeps doing that until it clicks that the asshole with the pretentious Gucci shirt (that Louis beautifully threw in the snow) is standing right in front of him.

It’s Louis’ luck that the only neighbor he seeks trouble with is his type. Why couldn’t it be a fifty year old married man with three kids, two of whom are doctors? Or a blonde? Louis has always been more fond of brunette men.

He waves the post-it in the air and fixes Green Eyes Asshole (the added noun fits the situation) with a cold look. “You’re the twat who took my clothes out when the wash cycle wasn’t even finished?”

“That’s bold,” Green Eyes Asshole laughs, taking the paper back from Louis’ fingers. “Maybe if you didn’t put so much soap in the machine that it almost clogged up, then I wouldn’t have had to stop the thing, huh?”

Now he’s blatantly lying, there’s no way Louis put too much soap, he’s sure of that. It was half a cup, give or take, which he thinks is just enough for the amount of clothes he needed washed.

“You’re lying,” is all he says, tapping his foot impatiently. He eyes his door.

“Wish I were,” Green Eyes Asshole sighs. “Now, sweetheart, can we talk about how you ruined a four hundred dollar shirt?”

Louis flushes red at that (and also because of the pet name, but, details) and doesn’t say anything. He is not going to apologize. He’s still convinced that what the guy did was incredibly disrespectful. And, honestly, that Gucci shirt was way too ugly to be in anyone’s wardrobe, so really, Louis did him a favour.

“I want to go back to my flat, if sir will be kind enough to get out of the way.”

Green Eyes Asshole raises an eyebrow, and instead of doing what Louis expects him to do (which is to fuck off), he leans against the right side of the doorway, completely blocking the path. Perhaps if Louis screams loud enough about being attacked by a six-feet behemoth, then the neighbors will be kind enough to come to his rescue. He’s seriously considering it when the man reaches out and brushes Louis’ fringe out of his eye. It’s such a sweet gesture that Louis’ mind kind-of blanks for a moment.

#snippet #tagged #doing this cheered me up

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spaceshipkat · 4 years

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i’ve decided to divide up my CCity recap posts in 20-chapter increments, so this one will be chapters 21 - 40. part 1 with chapters 1 - 20 can be found here.

chapter 21: we’re yet again in Ruhn’s POV, and i really hope we can find out why he’s got a POV when his plot doesn’t seem to have much to do with it. we get even more exposition, this one stating that fae and wolves claimed Luna as their patron goddess. Bruce and Hunt continue to act chummy. i remain confused about why. we get more exposition we don’t need via a tour guide. Ruhn asked Bruce to come to meet with him bc their dad asked him to find Luna’s Horn. we learn that the Star-Eater bred something strong enough to fight the Horn by combining some of Pelias’ blood and the Star-Eater’s own “terrible essence”. “out of [that] collision of light and darkness” came a beast that “dwells in the darkest depths of the Pit” and the Star-Eater named it the kristallos for its clear blood and teeth, which Hunt has never heard of. they seem to believe that the demon has been summoned to hunt for the Horn, and that the murders might have stopped for a two year gap (despite there only being two murders total) to wait for things to calm down before continuing the search for the Horn. we learn that not only can the kristallos track the Horn, but so can Ruhn. Hunt calls Justinian, another member of the 33rd Imperial Legion, to look up the kristallos. Justinian tells Hunt he should stop waiting on Shahar, since it’s been two centuries, and hints he should instead hook up with Bruce.

chapter 22: back in Bruce’s POV, she asks Ruhn if their dad killed Danika and Ruhn says no. they have an argument wherein we learn that Ruhn called Bruce “a half-breed slut” in an argument and Bruce says that he meant it even though Ruhn says it was just said in a fight, and then she storms off. Bruce rushes to the gallery to meet with a client and research the Horn, but finds nothing. she decides to discover how Danika factors into the Horn business.

chapter 23: we start with Bruce in the gallery when she gets a call from Jesiba to send a file from her computer, and we get yet another proper noun in the Godslayer Rifle, which Jesiba hangs in her office. Bruce asks if Jesiba has heard anything new about the Horn, and Jesiba says no. Hunt tells Bruce there’s been another murder, and they leave. when Bruce sees the remains, she has a PTSD episode, which Ruhn tries to help with by removing her from the scene of the crime and she snaps at him. it’s revealed it was an acolyte from Luna’s temple who was killed, and that it was Micah who Bruce saved when she chased the kristallos (the demon) out of her apartment and followed it through the city.

chapter 24: Bruce learns that Hunt thought she was a suspect and, for some reason, is surprised by this. Hunt smells like cedar and rain. we get a flashback to the moment Bruce killed for the first time, though we don’t actually get to see her do the killing (which i’m glad for, though i’m pretty sure we’ll see it eventually so we can witness Bruce being “badass”). the chapter ends with Bruce entering the White Raven club.

chapter 25: in Hunt’s POV, we learn that witches fly on brooms. we learn Justinian called and found nothing but a few myths about the kristallos and that Viktoria called to say the Viper Queen’s alibis checked out. Hunt follows Bruce into the club and finds her at a booth with Juniper, who smells of jasmine and vanilla since he wants to apologize to Bruce for bringing her to the crime scene. Ruhn shows up at the club after Juniper and Bruce go to the bathroom. the chapter ends with the club exploding.

chapter 26: back in Bruce’s POV, we witness her jump over Juniper to protect her from the explosion and learn that Juniper made the Drop two years ago so Bruce shouldn’t have been protecting her but the other way around. Hunt takes Bruce to Ruhn’s house to clean her wounds. evidently, the White Raven club was formerly a temple. Hunt finds out Bruce didn’t heal the scar she got from her injury when she chased the kristallos and saved Micah. Ruhn says that all signs of the bomb point to human rebels, and that there was a Horn-shaped logo on the crate that had carried the bomb. it’s speculated that the humans are warning them away from looking for the Horn, hence who is being killed and that the club blew up while Bruce, Ruhn, and Hunt were inside it. Hunt decides they need to talk to Briggs to see if the Keres, his group of human rebels, are behind the murders of Danika, Mr. Tertian, and the acolyte. Ruhn tells Bruce that their dad wants her to have a bodyguard so she doesn’t die before the Summit, and Bruce says it’ll be Hunt bc she doesn’t want Ruhn to live with her. there’s a POV switch to Ruhn, now, and he wonders if Hunt is putting two and two together to realize that Bruce and Ruhn aren’t just cousins but siblings. Ruhn wants to look at the gallery’s library and Bruce wants Declan Emmet, one of Ruhn’s best friends, to search the Den archives for anything about Danika’s last movements.

chapter 27: back in Hunt’s POV, we revisit the White Raven club (Bruce is barefoot, for some reason) as Hunt and Bruce walk to her apartment. Hunt asks Bruce why she won’t make the Drop and she says she’s waiting until she’s 27 since she and Danika were going to make the Drop at age 27. Hunt asks if Bruce and Danika were lovers and Bruce says no. Hunt tells Bruce about his bargain with Micah and, for some reason, she doesn’t judge him for what he needs to do when, by all accounts, she would have until sj///m decided they’re going to eventually be a couple. in the guest room, Hunt finds a photo of Bruce, Bruce’s mom, and Bruce’s stepdad, who is a legendary sharpshooter.

chapter 28: Hunt wakes up and Bruce is still asleep, and he notes she’s in a nightgown and has a tattoo down her back in an alphabet he doesn’t recognize. Juniper shows up with pastries. people still believe humans from Pangera are behind the club bombing. Juniper says Fury is coming home bc the owner of the club is putting a bounty out on whoever is responsible for blowing it up. Hunt and Bruce have “banter” and eat croissants.

chapter 29: Bruce and Hunt walk to the gallery together. in Ruhn’s POV, we’re not in the gallery’s library and we learn that Ruhn evidently has a lot of piercings. Declan sends information regarding Danika’s movements before she died. Danika was stationed at Luna’s Temple the two days before the Horn was stolen as well as during the blackout while it was stolen. we learn both Pelias’ wife and mother-in-law were Starborn. we also learn that the Horn only worked when Starborn magic was funneled through it, and that this is true of all sacred objects. Hunt decides he’ll go see the Oracle to see if she knows anything about the Horn.

chapter 30: Bruce and Hunt go to the Comitium so he can gather weapons and clothes to bring to Bruce’s apartment. Hunt tells Bruce he’s a bastard and that he made the Drop when he was 28. Hunt’s request to meet with Briggs has been approved and that Hunt gets to meet with the Oracle tomorrow. chapter ends with Isaiah trying to warn Hunt that Sandriel is here but Sandriel is already there

chapter 31: Sandriel spots Hunt. Bruce stages an exit that’s actually really helpful and it’s nice to see her display some humanity. Micah asks Bruce out and she says she’s not interested. Bruce and Hunt leave via a back exit that requires him to carry her bc he needs to fly them out and back to her apartment.

chapter 32: they head back for the gallery. Micah calls to tell Hunt he has a job to do tonight so Hunt leaves Justinian to watch Bruce. when Hunt returns, Bruce tells him that she recorded the sunball game he missed but wanted to watch.

chapter 33: Hunt goes to see the Oracle and asks her why someone wants the Horn. she says that they want to open the doorway between worlds, to reopen the Northern Rift. evidently, the Horn’s purpose is to open and close doors.she says the Horn can also be repaired. the Oracle warns Hunt to stay away from Bruce (as a warning of their connection, not protectiveness over her)

chapter 34: Bruce and Ruhn are waiting for Hunt outside where the Oracle lives (in the Oracle’s Park). the acolyte who was killed last was the only one on duty the night the Horn was stolen. Bruce speculates that maybe the humans want to use the Horn to open the gates of Hel and bring the princes out. Ruhn leaves to go question medwitches about if it would be possible to heal the Horn, as it apparently has some sentience to it. Hunt asks Bruce if she has any idea why the Oracle would warn him to stay away from her, and Bruce eludes that the Oracle might still be angry at her. the Oracle apparently screamed and clawed at her face when she looked into Bruce’s future and was blind for a week. they find a picture of a terracotta vase with the kristallos demon roaring as a sword is arced toward its head by a warrior of some kind. Briggs is in place to be questioned and Hunt asks if Bruce will be okay facing him since he probably won’t have nice things to say about Danika, and Bruce snaps at him. Lehabah says that Bruce should have some new friends, that Hunt seems like he could be a nice friend, and Bruce snaps at Lehabah, who is hurt and leaves.

chapter 35: Bruce and Hunt walk through the halls of cells below the Comitium and we get a lot of implications of torture that occurs. they enter one cell where Briggs is. they ask Briggs if the Keres could be behind the attacks. he says he liked Danika, even when she busted him. Briggs says that Danika went easy on Briggs and even let a few of his Keres rebels escape, and that he thinks she might have been a sympathizer. Bruce objects, but Briggs says that Danika could have been an important ally in the rebel cause bc of how Bruce was treated as half-fae, half-human. Briggs says he is not responsible for Danika’s death, but if the Keres managed to blow up the White Raven, that was good. back in Bruce’s apartment, Hunt and Bruce regroup. Hunt is in sweats, a t-shirt, and a sunball hat on backward. Bruce takes apicture on Hunt’s phone and sends it to herself. Hunt explains that he was tortured for seven years after he rebelled. Bruce reaches for Hunt’s hand and holds it while she tells him he’s nothing like Briggs. he gives his hat to Bruce. they have a thing where their legs are touching and their eyes are locked and Bruce’s voice turns hoarse while they talk about how Danika might have hidden whoever stole the Horn the night of the blackout and then Hunt steals his hat back and they have a plan to reexamine the footage from the cameras facing the temple.

chapter 36: Bruce and Hunt show up to a shooting range where Ruhn, Flynn, and Declan are. Bruce wants Declan to analyze footage from Luna’s Temple the night the Horn was missing. Bruce shoots, Hunt pops a boner, he gets a call from Isaiah that there’s been another murder, this one in the Asphodel Meadows

chapter 37: Bruce looks scared, so Hunt sends Ruhn, Declan, and Flynn to the crime scene first. Hunt helps Bruce breathe through the panic before they go to the crime scene. the Asphodel Meadows are run-down and reek of trash and Bruce tries not to breathe bc of course. the murder victim might be one of the guards from Luna’s Temple on his way home. the murderer appears to have known where all cameras were in the area they killed the person. Bruce figures out that the murders are all occurring on ley lines and speculates that the murders occur so the demon can be summoned out of Hel. Bruce and Hunt talk about their love lives as they leave the crime scene. Declan learns that Sabine swapped the audio recordings from the night the Horn was stolen.

chapter 38: Hunt asks Isaiah to read the notes from what Sabine said to him and Hunt the night of Danika’s death, while Bruce was in the holding room, and thinks that Sabine could have killed Danika bc Danika might have wanted to tell someone about the Horn. Bruce says she can’t imagine why Sabine would have the Horn and still summon the kristallos demon. Hunt speculates that Sabine and possible Sandriel might be in on trying to make Micah look bad bc Sabine hates Micah and Sandriel wants Valbara (which Micah is governor of). Bruce goes for a run and Hunt joins her to protect her. Bruce’s leg is in a lot of pain but she keeps lying about it and seems to enjoy the fact she’s in pain.

chapter 39: Ruhn stops at the clinic of the medwitch he met with the night of the last murder. the witch and Ruhn have lunch in the courtyard, and he asks her if a magical object could be healed. she guesses it’s a fae artifact from what he’s saying, and then the Horn. she speculates that there might be a way to repair it if the object is treated as a living thing. there definitely seems like there’s going to be some romance between Ruhn and this unnamed medwitch (maybe she’s Hypaxia? she seems confused when Ruhn asks if the new queen Hypaxia would have any answers, and then recovers to say that Hypaxia is mourning her mother and won’t take any visitors until she’s declared as the new witch queen at the Summit).

chapter 40: Viktoria sends Isaiah to collect Hunt when she looks through footage on the city cameras about the ley lines/power grid. Bruce and Hunt fly to meet with Viktoria. Viktoria is, of course, beautiful. Viktoria has found footage of a foot that belongs to the kristallos demon from the nights of the murders and that the night of Mr. Tertian’s murder, there was a temperature fluctuation on a ley line. the demon was around the Den where Sabine lives, as though waiting for someone, and then vanished. it was also at the murder from the night before and vanished just as quickly.

#anti sjm #anti ccity #ccity spoilers #myth & kat read ccity #ccity recap

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aelin-and-feyre · 7 years

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Belladonna Farm (Part 1)

Yay! The first part of my new Nessian series! This will be a seven part fic and will have a couple aesthetic boards to go with it.

Fun Fact: The setting for this fic is a real place that I have been to and took pictures of for the aesthetics. Everything about it is 100% true except for the mountains (which I added because Illyrians).

Please let me know what you guys think!

Tagging: @aelinxfeyre @rowanismybae (let me know if you want to be added to this tag list!)

Aesthetic Board 1

‘belladonna’

noun

1. also called deadly nightshade. a poisonous plant, Atropa belladonna, or the nightshade family, having purplish-red flowers and blackberries

2. Italian for ‘beautiful lady’

...

Saturday

Nesta checks her phone again, squinting as she tries to understand the directions the stupid GPS app is telling her. She is pretty sure that it is completely wrong. After all, the last town is twenty miles back, and all around her are corn fields, with a small mountain range situated behind them. The road she is currently driving on is paved, but has many potholes, and the closest neighbors are several kilometers apart. Surely her late Aunt Ripleigh - who had loved to talk all day if she had an audience - wouldn’t want to live all the way out here in the middle of nowhere.

Of course, that may as well have been Nesta’s city heart talking. She could never imagine staying in a place like this for a long period of time, corn fields surrounding you, the sun beating down constantly. As it is, she has the air conditioning blasting in her car and the humidity is still getting to her hair. Not that she has anyone to impress. Nesta briefly feels a bit grateful for a week with no one around. Maybe she won’t even do her makeup while she’s staying here. Wherever here is.

As she continues to drive down the dull, straight road, Nesta once again curses the circumstances that put her here. Of course, she has no one to blame, because she can’t very well blame her dead great aunt for naming her in her will. Although Nesta fiercely wants to be angry that Aunt Ripleigh had decided that she should be the one given the farm house at the base of a mountain.

Meanwhile, Nesta’s sisters, Elain and Feyre, had inherited money. Loads of it. Aunt Ripleigh had been exceptionally wealthy, and it turns out that the Archeron sisters were her only living relatives left. There had been a couple other names in the will as well, but none that Nesta had recognized. The only reason Nesta could think of for why the woman had left her the property in the middle of nowhere, was that one time Nesta had mentioned that she would be interested in seeing it. And that was just because she was being polite!

But now, with an absolute mess of a situation going on at her job, Nesta has to take a week off to settle the papers so that she can sell the house and wipe her hands of the whole matter. Elain and Feyre had briefly attempted to convince her to keep the land, but they all knew that it was a lost cause. The eldest Archeron sister is married to the city life, her job at the company, and the society that comes with neighbors right next to you and loud noises all through the night. And seeing how out of the way this place is, Nesta is all too sure that she is making the right choice.

Her GPS starts to recalibrate, shaking Nesta from her thoughts and forcing her attention back on the road. It is a good thing that no one else is around, or she might have very well crashed. The corn seems to grow taller with each passing mile, and the mountains in the background go on forever. Her phone beeps and Nesta glances over to see that it is directing her to turn left in a half mile. She must be close.

With less than half a mile to go, Nesta sees a inlet in the road ahead. She turns on her signal, even though there is no one to see, and swerves onto a white gravel road with a strip of grass down the center. A driveway. She pauses briefly to glance around. A mailbox sits at the edge of the driveway, empty. Fields of the same tall corn border either side of the long gravel path. A sort of archway made from two trees frame the entrance, two signs are posted to the tree on the right. One reads ‘15 mph’ and the other dictates how she is entering private property, and there is absolutely no trespassing.

With one last look at the road stretching behind her in either direction, Nesta takes her foot off the brake and rides up the driveway, doing the instructed speed limit. It is just like Aunt Ripleigh to tell her visitors how fast they can drive while approaching her house. There is a bend in the road a little while in, turning onto a perfectly paved driveway that goes around the back of one of the corn fields. Perhaps the white gravel was just for show. Nesta is not surprised when she finds a gate a little bit farther in, as Aunt Ripleigh was always strict about security. Although whomever would makes the trek all the way out here and then venture down the mile long driveway just to steal from a little old lady surely deserves to get something for his efforts.

She fishes through her phone for the passcode and leans out the window to push it into the small keypad along the side of the road. Automatically, the gate creaks open and Nesta ventures through.

The gate, and the tree line beside it, turn out to be hiding a wondrous property. Nesta slowly drives the last stretch of driveway to the enormous house standing in the center of the nine square acre piece of land. She gawks at her surroundings unabashedly. Nesta has never particularly liked nature, but the open space before her is just enough to slightly take her breath away.

A large meadow takes up about a third of the square, huge round bales of hay the size of her car dotted around it. She spots a small orchard of trees along the far edge, tiny specks of color betraying that they are bearers of fruit. A barn stands tall and large in one corner and Nesta can see the beginnings of a small lake as she drives. The sun high in the sky casts beautiful rays on light across the property. A soft breeze makes the flowers in the meadow sway.

Pulling up to the house, Nesta parks outside of the garage and slowly gets out. The humidity is awful and without the car’s air conditioning, her hair is frizzing in all sorts of directions. She’s already starting to feel sweat leak through her sheer blouse. Nesta thanks whatever gods are out there that no one can see her in this state.

As she walks further around the garage, the lake becomes clearer, positioned about a hundred meters from the house, it is shaped like an oval with a couple different openings to small rivers at the far end. A fish house and pier sit comfortably on the shore. Nesta decides that she will enjoy getting a nice tan while she’s here. As long as the bugs aren’t too bad, that is.

To say that she is shocked would be an understatement. Never in a million years would Nesta think that a place like this would exist in such a spot, surrounded by corn on all sides and mountains looming overhead. It truly is extraordinary. No wonder Aunt Ripleigh barely ever left.

Her great aunt was a sophisticated woman, who loved the outdoors and everything it had to offer. This place would fit her perfectly. Nesta can practically see her sitting at the small table on the pier, sipping sweet tea and enjoying the sun on her face.

Lost in her own thoughts, Nesta wanders through the gate that leads to an enclosed portion of the yard, surrounded on three sides by a white fence, the fourth side being the back of the house. Nesta is so deep in thought that it isn’t until he starts waving at her that she sees the man standing on the other side of the fence. A very shirtless, very sweaty man.

Nesta screams. She grapples for her purse, trying to find her pepper spray and realizes with unending dismay that she left it in the car. Backing away hurriedly and trying to ignore the confused expression that crosses the man’s face, Nesta’s breath quickens. Who is he? Why is he here? What does he want? Why is he without a shirt?

While attempting to open the damned gate again and get back through, she distantly hears her name being called. “Mrs Archeron! Mrs Archeron, please I didn’t mean to startle you!” A deep voice yells as the young man hops over the fence and starts walking rapidly towards her. He has is hands up in a nonthreatening manner but Nesta does not take that as a sign that he is indeed not a threat. In fact, after living in the city for so long, that almost guarantees that he is.

Finally, she gets through the gate and bolts back to her car, throwing the door open and grabbing her phone. She holds it up to him warningly. “Stop right there!” She says, trying not to let her fear taint her voice. The man stops with one foot outside the gate, breathing heavily. “Tell me who you are and why you are on this property this instant or I am calling the police.” No matter that they wouldn’t get here in time. This man could kill her five times over before any kind of law enforcement official could reach the house. Nesta focuses most of her attention at calming her breathing at that thought. If there is anything she learned in the city, it was to show no fear.

The man keeps his hands raised, palms towards her, demonstrating that he has absolutely nothing that may harm her. Although looking briefly at the corded muscle along his biceps and the six pack he sports reveals that he probably doesn’t need any tools to torment her. Nesta quickly averts her eyes back to his own gaze.

“I’m Cassian,” He states slowly, his voice rough and seemingly hewn with mountain air. It sends an involuntary shiver down her spine. It is impossible not to notice the swirling black tattoos that litter his chest and down his sides, disappearing over his shoulders and below his waistband. Nesta’s hand tightens on her phone as she concentrates on not ogling him and focusing on the matter at hand. “I’m the caretaker of this property,” Cassian continues, “I worked for your Aunt Ripleigh for more than a decade,” He takes a hesitant step towards her and Nesta tenses again. “Mrs Archeron, I promise I’m not going to hurt you. Please just lower your phone and we might be able to talk in a more civilized manner.”

Without taking her eyes off of the stranger, Nesta clicks her phone off and slides it into her pocket, still in easy reach. “Miss,” She responds, crossing her arms.

Confusion once again mars his sweaty face. “Excuse me?”

“Miss Archeron,” Nesta corrects. “I’m not married.”

A devilish smirk spreads across his features. Cassian runs his hand through his long black hair and Nesta has a feeling that she is not going to like whatever he says next. “Well, Miss Archeron, lucky for you, I am not married either.” The sideways smile on his face makes her blood boil.

“Lucky for me?” She repeats, trying not to grit her teeth. “Why, Mr...”

His smirk widens slightly. “Just Cassian.” He supplies.

“Well, just Cassian,” She practically spits the name. “I have known you for barely thirty seconds and I already know that all women are lucky that you are not married yet, as we would feel obligated to end the torture of our fellow female who was unlucky enough to end up with you.”

Unfortunately, her biting comeback does not have the desired effect. The corner of Cassian’s mouth twitches a little in amusement, and he says nothing for a few seconds, surveying her from head to toe. Nesta resists the urge to fidget under his gaze.

“Can I help you with your bags?” The man asks eventually, startling Nesta.

She sputters a few times as he walks past her towards the trunk. She can do it herself, she knows she can, but as long as he’s offering she’ll take him up on it. He’s a strange man in a property that now belongs to her, but he definitely does not seem like a serial killer. Cassian heaves the large suitcase from the back of her car and begins to lug it towards the garage door. “We can go through here, I’ll show you around the house.”

Nesta reluctantly follows him, only now realizing that her hair is still all out of sorts and she’s sure her blouse must be spotted with moisture. Staying behind him, she sneakily attempts to pat down the frizz and fan her underarms that the evidence of her sweating might not be visible. Of course, he is sweating like a pig. And rather dirty now that she looks at him. His jeans are caked with dirt and grass, patches of mud sticking to his sides. He’s also still shirtless, gracing Nesta with a view of his toned back.

However, as he opens the door into the house and she actually looks at the fine muscles and shoulder blades, Nesta is briefly taken aback by the two mottled scars that run on a slight diagonal down his back. She blinks at the image and quickly has to school her features into neutrality as he turns around to glance back at her, a mocking smile playing at his lips.

“Coming?” He asks, one eyebrow raised.

Questions swimming through her head, but also the knowledge that this man - this stranger - owes her no answers nor does she owe him any sympathy, Nesta nods once and steps over the threshold.

...

As they venture through the house, Cassian gestures towards doors, explaining how this one goes to a bathroom, or another to a laundry room, another to the pantry, another to the screen porch, and so on. Nesta is amazed at how modern everything is. The kitchen is large and spacious and the appliances are wonderful. Aunt Ripleigh was a fine cook, and so is Nesta. She is excited to try out the space this week.

There ends up being six bathrooms, three bedrooms, a sunroom, screen porch, wrap around porch, 4 fire places, two laundry rooms, and various gathering spaces. All this house for one person. Or two. Nesta still isn’t quite sure what Cassian’s deal is.

Dropping her suitcase down in the upstairs master bedroom, Cassian dusts his hands - which Nesta notices are rather grimy and cringes at how the handle of her bag must reflect that now - and looks at her. “So, when are the rest of your things getting here?”

Nesta blinks. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

His brows furrow. “Well this can't be all of your things. I mean, yeah this bag is heavy but I’m sure a respectable lady like you owns more than what can fit in a suitcase.”

“Of course,” she replies, “I have an apartment in the city. But all my stuff isn’t coming here.”

Cassian raises his eyebrows, surprised. “Oh, you’re going to maintain both of your properties then?”

Nesta just stares. What is he talking about? Then it clicks. “I’m... not keeping this house, Cassian. I’m selling it.”

The man’s mouth immediately forms a grim line. “I see.”

“I’m sorry if you were under the impression that I was moving in, but frankly, I’m not a nature person. I’m a city girl and a house in the middle of nowhere?” She gestures around herself vaguely. “Definitely not my thing.”

Cassian’s expression does not waver. His voice is devoid of it’s previous joking nature. “So, how long will you be staying here before you sell?”

“A week. I have some people coming in to investigate the territory. If they can find it, that is,” she adds quietly. “I only asked off of work for the next week and then I have to head back.”

The change in atmosphere is palpable and Nesta feels nervous all over again. She does not know how this man reacts to bad news. She suddenly chastises herself for entering an enclosed building with him in an area where no one can hear her scream nor does she know if she has cell coverage or not.

She also never even considered the possibility that someone else might be living here. So she has no idea what he will do when the house goes on the market. Not that it matters much to her as long as it doesn’t interfere with the sell. She doesn’t like to admit it, but Nesta kind of needs the money. Another reason why she’s mad at her aunt for leaving her this place instead of a cut of her fortune.

Cassian takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with the action and drawing Nesta’s gaze. He is probably one of the most intimidating men she has encountered, excluding Tomas. She quickly blocks the thought before it goes too far. This week is supposed to clear her head, not force it in the wrong direction.

“Very well, Miss Archeron,” he says at last. “I didn’t finish in the garden yet, excuse me.” He brushes past her and out the door. She listens as his heavy gait descends the staircase, and the beep as the security system sounds through the house when he opens the door. Then the screen door slams shut and she’s alone.

Nesta runs a hand down her face, thoroughly irritated with the events that just unfolded. She has no obligation to this man whatsoever. He is inappropriate and odd and frankly, should definitely wear a shirt more often. Nesta hopes that he does not live on the property or she might die from the torture of having to spend the next week with him and his mood swings.

Fetching her phone from her pocket, Nesta checks to make sure that she has signal. She does. After sending a quick text to her sisters letting them know that she made it safely, Nesta begins to wander.

The bathroom connected to her room is wondrous, with a clawfoot bathtub, large shower, and a balcony coming off of it overlooking the lake. Curiosity getting the better of her, she steps out onto the small terrace and admires the grounds. The lake is much bigger than what she could see from the garage, multiple streams branching off and turning back, perfect for rowing through. A couple islands and peninsulas intersect the water as well. The barn stands two stories tall and takes up much of the southwestern corner of the property. She notices a track running around the lake that must be mowed regularly, and used by the golf cart she noticed when they passed through the garage.

Glancing almost directly down, Nesta finds a garden, two of them actually. A small house stands between them, Nesta hoping that it is just a garden shed and not Cassian’s abode. Said man is currently hacking away at some wood next to the shed, still shirtless. His long hair is pulled back into a bun and even from the balcony, Nesta can see the sweat glistening off his back, as well as the twin scars that run there.

She turns away from him and towards the meadow, which she can only just see from her position. It has an assortment of wild flowers in it, as well as tall grasses and brush. She notices that there is one flower though that pops up all over, both in the meadow, along the islands and peninsulas, on the sides of the driveway when she had been coming in, and even one in a vase on the nightstand beside her bed.

Nesta snaps a picture of the plant and sends it to Elain, knowing that the middle Archeron sister will know exactly what kind of flower it is. Elain’s answer is almost immediate. ‘That’s a hardy amaryllis,’ she says. It means nothing to Nesta so she shrugs, slipping her phone back in her pocket and cringing at herself in the mirror. Perhaps a soak in the tub or a nice shower would be a good idea after such a long drive.

Firmly shutting the door to the balcony and pulling down the shade on the window just to be sure, Nesta decides to do just that. It’s Saturday after all, and she has a week here before she has to head back. She might as well enjoy it.

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ohmytheon · 7 years

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A Thing of the Past (Rebelcaptain, 6)

I think it’s freaking hilarious that I said the last chapter was the climax to my Rebelcaptain Winter Soldier/Captain America AU. Like I could let go of this AU so easily? Just when I thought I was wrapped up in another AU, I literally woke up thinking about this scene and had to write it today. It’s different from the others in that it’s from a different POV. You can guess who’s POV it’s from. I mean, who would make people suffer the most?

recognition: noun, the action or process of recognizing or being recognized; identification of a thing or a person from previous encounters or knowledge; acknowledgement of something’s existence, validity, or legality

Intense green eyes like the earth haunt him when he closes his eyes. He sees them like shadows in the corners of his mind, peeking out when he least expects them and then gone before he can get a better look. He doesn’t like it. For the longest time, he was the shadows -- he was the hunter -- and now he’s being haunted by a woman that he has tried and failed to kill twice.

Tried. Failed. He twists his lips in a disgruntled frown.

He could’ve killed her this last time -- should’ve killed her, he knows. Her throat was in his grip. She let her guard down; she exposed herself to him. Not once, but twice. She threw herself in between him and the other woman, not even bothering to shield herself. Every inch of his body screamed to take the shot. There was no reason that he hadn’t killed her when he’d never hesitated to do so before.

And yet…

Cassian?

The name floats up in his mind again, demanding to be heard, always in her voice. It drives him mad, but he can’t figure out a way to dig it out. It’s like she buried a part of herself in him like a tracker. He hears it again and again, calling for an answer he doesn’t know. He’s never bothered to ask questions before. It’s not in his nature. He’s been made to follow orders his entire life. But this is one thing he can’t shake.

Cassian? she asks, her voice trembling with shock, grief, and want.

He’s surprised that he can recognize those emotions still when he’s never had need of them before. Most people don’t last long in his wake to show any sort of emotion other than fear.

Cassian, she pleads and he hates it.

He never lets anyone get the chance to plead with him. It’s a waste of time. But she did and it struck a chord deep within him long thought forgotten. It grates him that a single word was able to dig into him like a knife. Nothing short of a command from his superior has made him loosen his grip until that very moment. Cassian.

But he thinks… Yes, he knows that voice. It stirs something inside of him, an old muscle or maybe a memory. He doesn’t have a lot of those. What he does recall is never pleasant. His commanding officer says that he is Death’s right hand man, a terrifying and beautiful creation. He flexes his fingers. He’s never felt like anything more than a weapon. After all, weapons are designed to kill and that’s all he does in the end.

Cassian--

His eyes snap open. It’s the voice. Same voice, but a different memory, both foggy and sharp at the same time. He can’t remember the time it came from; all he can remember is the way the voice spoke. Pained, scared, yet strong and defiant -- the kind of tone a person uses when they know they’re going to die but they’re ready. He’s heard it once or twice before from a target. Never quite like that though. Never that exact voice.

It’s her. But when? Where?

An electric surge up his metal arm jerks him out of his thoughts and his immediate reaction is to lash out, grabbing whatever poor soul is working on him by the throat. He thinks of the way his hand wrapped around her throat and squeezes hard enough to break the person’s larynx. That’s what he should’ve done -- what he couldn’t do, for the first time.

“Imbeciles!” a man shouts as he storms into the room. “I told you not to work on him until I arrived.”

His commanding officer appears in front of him. Orson Krennic. A man with a lot of power and influence. This man alone is the only one that he listens to. With a flick of his fingers, Krennic tells him to let go and he does, dropping the man to the floor. Krennic nudges the doctor with his boot, a look of disinterest on his face, before snapping his fingers to tell the others to take the body away.

“How are you feeling?” Krennic asks as he sits down in the doctor’s no longer occupied stool.

He doesn’t blink. He knows that Krennic doesn’t want to know how he feels so much as if he’s operating properly. There is a frown on the older man’s face. Krennic doesn’t like failure, especially when it has never occurred before. He has never failed before. Krennic looks at him like he’s a machine that might be broken.

“The woman, the soldier.” His voice is scratchy, raw, like sandpaper. He doesn’t need to speak often, hence why he wears a mask over the lower half of his face when he goes on missions. It almost surprises him to hear himself speak. He doesn’t recognize his own voice half the time. “Who is she?”

“Her?” Krennic waves a dismissive hand. “She’s nobody, just a nuisance that will be dealt with.”

She didn’t feel like nobody. And judging the way she was able to match him in every way when no one else has before, she didn’t feel like just a nuisance either. He’s never met anyone that is able to fight on his level or counter with the same heavy hits and strength as him. She was so small. He towered over her easily. She looked like he could break her in half if he gripped too tightly. But under all of that was an undeniable strength that could not be ignored or dismissed.

“But she knew me,” he says. It’s as close to insubordination as he’s ever come.

Krennic’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “Did she now?”

“She called me ‘Cassian’.”

“And is that your name?”

Here, he hesitates. He doesn’t have a name, not one that he can remember at least. It’s never been necessary. He’s the only one of his kind, so there’s never been a need to differentiate him from others. Even when he was training with the others that were supposed to be like him, he was always the best. He was at the top of his class. He killed them all in the end. They were useless hacks. He was above everyone else.

A name? No, he’s never had one. Not until yesterday.

“She doesn’t know you,” Krennic tells him, almost gently, like he’s trying to soothe a child. He is Krennic’s favorite, after all. His favorite weapon, not soldier or person. He doesn’t lie to himself about that. He’s not a person. No one treats him like one.

(If he thinks about it, he can still remember the feel of her fingers brushing against his face. Soft, desperate, kind. Not the fake gentle that Krennic gave him, but the real thing. His hand was around her throat and he had been pressing his weight on top of her. And she had touched him, not scratched at his skin or pulled at him. A gentle touch, calling him back home. He doesn’t have a home though. Why did her touch make him think of that?)

When Krennic doesn’t get the submissive response that he wants, he sighs and stands up, wiping his palms on the front of his slacks. “Put him under. We’ll have to recondition him again.” He doesn’t fight when the doctors come upon him again. He complies with them, opening his mouth to take the mouthguard and allowing his wrists and ankles to be bound. He is good. He can obey orders. “I hate seeing you like this. I really do. But clearly this woman is affecting you negatively. I know you; she doesn’t.”

But I know her. The thought is clear and as powerful as a punch to the chest.

He leans back in the seat as the machine starts to whir around him. It doesn’t scare him like it used to, even though he knows it will be painful, like they’re scrubbing every last inch of his mind with bleach. He clings to that single thought, refusing to let it go, and bundles it up as tight as he can so that it won’t be taken away from him. They’ve taken everything from him to the point where he can’t even regret it, but he won’t let them take this.

#cassian andor #jyn erso #orson krennic #rogue one #rebelcaptain #winter soldier au #captain america au #star wars #captain america: the winter soldier #sw #star wars fanfiction

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woohooligancomics · 7 years

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Webcomic Whimsy: Modest Medusa (WW:MM)

Welcome to the Woohooligan Weekly Webcomic Whimsy! I've given a couple of interviews in the past, but this is my first experience with reviewing. If you have any suggestions for improvements, feel free to leave a note. If you're a webcomic author and would like a review, you can see my announcement and review rules here.

Title: Modest Medusa

Author: Jake Richmond • Facebook • Twitter • DeviantArt • Tumblr • Google Plus • Patreon

Site: Modest Medusa • The Duck

Genres: Comedy, Humor, Slice of Life, Fantasy, Adventure, Gaming, Surreal, Absurd

Rating: PG, T for Teen

Updates: Monday, Wednesday, Friday (909 pages at time or review)

Synopsis: (from TV Tropes - there doesn't appear to be an "about" page on the site) On the night before Christmas, Jake comes home and finds that the toilet has overflowed and flooded his bedroom. While moving his stuff to a different room, he finds a gorgon child hiding in the closet. Because she cannot return to the land she came from, Jake and his niece Marah have to take care of her.

Jake's work on Modest Medusa is a little hard to place. The art style and even the writing on most pages feel to me like it's trying to be a g-rated, all-ages work. But before you go thinking it's a "children's book", you have to know that it also contains scenes of "graphic cartoon violence" (if that's a thing) and more than a few jokes that only adults will understand. I say "graphic cartoon violence" because yes, characters lose arms and eyes in the fighting, but the visual style never changes. This means that when you're seeing a severed arm with a bone in the middle, it still LOOKS like a chlidren's book rather than a horror movie. I think the strip on the right epitomizes the overall feel of Modest Medusa rather well.

The archive of Modest Medusa is pretty deep, I think it's over a thousand, but it's impossible to get a reasonable estimate of it's size because of the navigation on the site. I've learned through some casual digging that it apparently bounced around a bit on various hosting before getting the site it has now. I read that it was originally on DeviantArt, then another hosting site I didn't recognize before The Duck (then Drunk Duck) all before finally landing in the WordPress site at ModestMedusa.com. Some of these earlier strips are still black and white if you use the mirror on the Duck. Jake still updates the Duck as a mirror in parity with the official site, so you wouldn't miss anything by reading it there.

Like most webcomics, the art in Modest Medusa improves over time. The art in these first two pages was a good start, although it's obviously not as refined as his current work.

The fourth page here is the introduction of a running gag: Chocodiles. I had never heard of them. Apparently they're chocolate-coated Twinkies. I've seen a few episodes of American Dad, but not enough to know these things were described as Roger's favorite snack. I suspect Modest Medusa uses them more often than American Dad -- in the first couple chapters they're pretty constantly mentioned.

I never did see the gorgon given a name. I did see at least one page where Jake's neice calls out "Medusa" while looking for her, but I suspect that's being used in the generic way that most people use medusa as an improper noun, meaning gorgon. I suspect that was the intention in the title as well, using the less common definition of "modest" meaning "a small amount", as in "yes, there's a medusa, but it's just a little medusa." :P You might think that's the reason Jake's not turning to stone -- to be honest I'm not sure. I've read through what I think is almost two chapters and I've seen one character turn to stone after a bite from her snakes, but it's unclear if that's what caused it.

Obviously the relationship between Jake and Medusa had to evolve over time and it does... You just couldn't have a long story about the two of them with her hissing all the time. And the characters having fingers becomes a regular occurance about half-way through the first chapter. I'm sure the characters were happy they could use their phones. :P

The first panel of this next strip shows one of my few criticisms about Modest Medusa. Even now, Jake could improve the lettering. In this first panel the first dialogue balloon is pointed straight at Jake's neck, giving the impression that Jake is claiming to "come from a mystical land." Or maybe the collar of his shirt comes from that land... it certainly would explain the design.

And here's where it becomes obvious that Modest Medusa isn't meant to be a children's book. While there's nothing in the art or writing that you wouldn't want a child exposed to, this just isn't a joke they would understand. Admittedly, Jake has a graphic at the top of his site that describes it as being rated "T for teen".

In this first chapter, Medusa's lack of experience with our world is a frequent foil for comedy.

The climax of the first chapter* is a bloody fight sequence. This is likely to come as a surprise to anyone having read from the beginning, given the children's-book-style illustration, the description of Medusa as "a four year old", the overall slice-of-life-comedy tone, and the fact that the rest of the chapter is devoid of any violence at all, save some hissing and a solitary slap-in-the-face. It is pretty unusual to see a hundred pages of straight slice-of-life comedy suddenly punctuated by something more like Friday the 13th. I could see some readers describing it as a pleasant surprise. I personally enjoyed the sequence and the contrast between it and the rest of the chapter only occurred to me after I finished reading.

This fight is preceded by a phone call from Medusa's mother, demanding that she come home, and informing her she's going to kill Medusa's new friends.

* Jake calls it a "season", ending at the 100th strip

At first I thought the use of that last dialogue balloon was bad-form, with the standard for comics being to avoid the characters describing things the reader can already see on the page. It's the same as it is for TV and movies, you never have a character say "put my shoes on" when the audience can already see that she's doing that. On further reflection however, I think Jake made the right decision on that last panel. With all that blood and without that exclamation, I think it's likely that a lot of readers might have thought it was a horse being slaughtered in a really unpleasant way. So that dialogue eliminates the confusion, which I think is needed in this case.

Also... did the horse travel to our world from the land of Yeld like Medusa; through the toilet? :P

Toilet horses are tough!

After the unicorn fight, the first chapter ends with Jake being abducted... through the toilet, natch. This is the obvious lead in to the second chapter sequel. Jake apparently took that comic-making class that teaches you end a book on a cliffhanger. :P

While I can't give Jake too much grief for ending the first chapter that way, because that actually is the better way to do it, I did have one issue so far: the first chapter was awful slow. At this point I've read through a hundred strips and I know virtually nothing about Jake or his family. He has a neice named Mara, he likes video games (Pokemon in particular) and he eats Chocodiles. That's pretty much the extent of my knowledge of the Jake character (as distinct from the Jake author), and it feels pretty thin for being an entire book. It also feels like a lot of those strips in the first chapter were just filler for it's own sake, like an entire strip devoted to Medusa opening the first Chocodile, or an entire strip devoted to standing in line at the store waiting to buy the new Pokemon game, with narry a joke or word balloon in sight. True, it shows that nobody in the store is reacting to the gorgon in the room, but I feel like the dialogue on the following pages conveys that message already.

The pace of the story improves notably in the second chapter, despite the fact that we're still not really learning anything about the heroes. Some of their other friends and family members are introduced and then promptly abandoned while Mara and Medusa begin their quest through the looking-toilet to save uncle Jake.

Once in the land of Yeld, the story takes on a much more overtly fantasy-adventure tone.

And there's the occasional surrealism, like Medusa's snakes eating her stars. You're right, you shouldn't let them do that, otherwise they'll come to expect it and start demanding blue diamonds and green clovers.

It occurs to me that "where are your sparkles" and "it's a secret to everyone" are pretty subtle (obscure?) pop-culture references. While I understood those jokes, it makes me wonder if I'm not missing a lot of other jokes throughout the series. That's not a good or a bad thing, just something I noticed.

While I've never been a fan of Calvin and Hobbes, I suspect that Jake Richmond is and that the influence of Watterson on Jake's work is fairly apparent to fans of Calvin and Hobbes. Any Modest Medusa readers out there want to confirm or deny?

So if you're looking for a combination of absudity and slice-of-life comedy, with a liberal dose of fantasy-adventure and a smidgen of pop-culture, I think you'll like Modest Medusa.

If you are a webcomic author and are interested in a review from me, you can check out my announcement and my review rules here.

If you enjoy my reviews and would like to help ensure I'm able to continue publishing them, you can contribute on our Patreon or if you're short on funds you can also help me out by checking out and sharing my own webcomic, Woohooligan!

Thanks! Sam

#Comedy #Fantasy #Adventure #Webcomic #Review #Absurd #Surreal #slice of life #Gaming #video games

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