#THE WAY I WOULD KILL FOR A LITTLE SILVER CARD OF HIM DOING CHORES IN THE COTTAGE OR PLAYING WITH ANIMALS IN THE FOREST…

[fruixtii]

please twst i’m begging for the next birthday card line give us childhood cards. maybe even some sprites as a treat.

[kayrogers]

accidental cinderella ][ t. holland

royalty au

Paring(s): prince!tom holland x reader ; platonic!harrison osterfield x reader

Inspo: cinderella cause a bitch LOVES fairy tale aus

Word Count: 2900+

Warning(s): cursing, lil bit of a cheese-fest, and haz being an absolute bean

Part: prologue | part 1 | part ??

A/N: first of all.. wow. thank you so much to everyone that read first part and actually wanted more, y’all are some saints. Second, I hope y’all are coping well in quarantine, stay healthy loves! also gifs above DO NOT belong to me, I found them on google.

Harrison indeed did manage to get your number and sent you the details for the Gala the next day. To say that it was scary how fast he got a hold of you was an understatement. What had you gotten yourself into?!

‘You weren’t being serious about the Forever 21 dress... were you?’ He texted back and you felt your face grow red.

You were poor. There was no question about it, even if your so-called family upstairs lived lavishly. But maybe this could get you out of it! No fancy dress? No gala. Maybe he had finally come to his senses and realized how insane it was that he even spoke to you. Let alone invited you to such an event.

‘Uh yeah. Is that going to be a problem?’ You sent back, biting your lip in anticipation.

‘Not at all. Meet me at this address tonight at 9 PM. Wear something comfy. ;)’ What?!

Okay, you weren’t sure what that meant and it made your stomach flip at the prospect.

‘Is this another thing that’d be offensive to say no to?’ There was the sound of a crash coming from the floor above you and you could hear your step-mother’s familiar screech.

‘Yes. See you there!’ You rolled your eyes, turning your phone off and slipping out of bed.

“[Y/n]! Get upstairs!” She yelled down the stairs to your flat and you groaned, slipping on a pair of slippers and heading up.

The sight upstairs was nothing short of a disaster. Pink powder covered the tiled kitchen floor and the small white Pomeranian your step-mother named ‘Angel’. It didn’t take long to hang around that dog to realize the name was an oxymoron.

“Clean this up immediately! I can’t believe I’ve spilled my Marc Jacobs blush... and I have the gala this weekend. You must get more today.” Your step-mother, Sheryl, harped the second you entered the room.

“And give the dog a wash, I need my baby clean.” You nodded, more tripping up on this gala she mentioned.

Grabbing a vacuum from the closet, you were quick to get to work picking up what you could of the loose powder.

“Gala this weekend?” You carefully questioned as you hung up the vacuum and grabbed a swiffer mop.

“The Holland’s. With your father’s connections I was able to get invitation for myself and the girls. The king is looking for all of the eligible ladies in the kingdom for his son... obviously within a more respectable tax bracket as only certain families are being invited.” She snipped and you felt a familiar grieving anger fill your chest.

Your father’s connections. You always knew Sheryl had it out for his money from the second he met her, but he loved her and you wanted him to be happy after your mother’s passing. But now? The blatant materialism and audacity. To not even consider bringing you, but quick to use your father’s memory when it was of use. It disgusted you to no end.

After mopping what you could, you grabbed the dog who immediately started yipping at you. Making the decision to bite your tongue, you left the room before you could say something you’d regret.

“Make sure you scrub this grout when you’re done!” You inwardly groaned at her screech.

The rest of your day went frustratingly similar to that interaction. You went through an exceedingly long to do list that you were forced to do daily, somehow these women managed to mess up every little micromanaged task you were given. You wouldn’t doubt your step sisters doing it on purpose, torturing you being one of their favorite pastimes.

After chores was work, this environment not much of a change. As cute as the café was, that Pinterest-wholesome exterior was a facade when considering the attitudes of other customers and co-workers alike. You’d swear off any coffee besides black if you didn’t have such a sweet tooth.

You were cleaning after your shift around 8, when you got another text from Harrison.

Harrison: ‘We still on for tonight?’

[Y/n]: ‘Yeah. Just locking up the café. 9 right?’

Harrison: ‘Most certainly! Make me a coffee on your way out?’ [$50 attached to message]

[Y/n]: ‘50?! I would have done it for free!’

Harrison: ‘I know ;)’

That was the first good thing to happen to you all day. And you didn’t even want to accept it. Maybe having a royal butt-buddy wouldn’t be so bad if he kept this up.

Cleaning was much less of a chore after that and you felt yourself actually grin when you stepped out into the cold night air. You put the address Harrison sent you into Uber and found yourself equal parts anxious and excited. The drive was short, but as you turned onto the block dread filled your heart. Fairy Ave. It was a place that not even your step-mother could visit more than once a year. Every store glistened brightly and held price tags you could never imagine. You could guess a singular dress would cost your tuition. In front of one boutique stood a familiar face in a suit even more dashing. And you sat in the backseat of an Uber with your work clothes still on. 

“A suit?” You questioned when you got out.

“I’ve just left work as well. Not easy babysitting a prince.” He jokes and you hand him his coffee.

“You sure he’d like you saying that?” Harrison scoffed at your remark and held open the door to a place called ‘Bibbity Boutique’.

“I’m sure I don’t give a damn.” He was cheeky, but you were too busy gawking at the insane dresses to notice.  From floor to ceiling there were pristine cocktail dresses to sparkling ball gowns. You did not even want to guess how much any piece called for.

“You’re not seriou-“

“I am. Can I get some assistance for this lovely lady here? She’s a friend of the crown.” Harrison boldly held out a silver and red brandished credit card to the first store attendant he saw.

She eyed you suspiciously, but still pulled out a tape measure. However you were too busy stumbling over his phrasing, ‘friend of the crown’ was never something you’d imagine hearing in your life. You were led through the store while Harrison and the worker were actually picking out dresses. Part of you was scared to touch one for fear of somehow breaking it and putting yourself into indefinite debt. But then you saw it.

The deep pine green caught your eye as if drawn there by a magnet. The dress in all honesty was simple, smooth satin flowing down the mannequin like water. The back was mostly open except for spaghetti straps tying the bottom together. It was perfect.

“Stop.” Your voice was abrupt, Harrison and the attendant give you a strange look with equal amounts of insane dresses filling their arms.

“The green one. That’s it.”

“Are you sure? These are the gowns being purchased for the gala.” The attendant insisted on the dresses in her arms, each one extravagant and sparkling.

“Let’s see it on then.” Harrison concluded with a smirk, and the attendant rolled her eyes but moved to help you get that dress down.

You audibly gasped when seeing yourself in the dress. The deep forest color reflected amazingly off of the lights of the dressing room as you stood on a raised platform in front of its many mirrors. It was almost iridescent as the satin slightly changed with every swish and twirl of the fabric. It hung off your figure perfectly, tightening at every point it was meant to.

“Harrison!” You called excitedly, nearly falling in the tester heels you were given when putting the garment on.

He walked in and a smile took up his face when taking in your form.

“Don’t you clean up nice. We’ll take it.” He stated and you watched as the attendant quickly began writing down an order.

“I feel like I’m in Pretty Woman. Except I’m not having sex with anyone. Oh god, I don’t have to have sex with you for this right?” You whispered to him jokingly and his cheeks burned bright.

“Ouch. But no, like I said, you are a friend of the crown now. Or a friend of mine at the very least, you make me laugh [Y/n]. And since this whole gala was strapped together, Tom hasn’t been doing much of that.” Harrison looked down and began typing on his phone while saying that.

“So you and Tom are mates then?” He looked up from the device with a chuckle.

“I wouldn’t be Royal Advisor if I wasn’t.” He winked and went back to typing.

“Pretty sure you’re not looking for a laugh when taking advice on the kingdom, but if the shoe fits-“

“-Oh shoe! Wait one moment!” Harrison interrupted and dashed out of the dressing room.

He came back with his hands behind his back, a large grin occupying the bottom half of his face. “You shall be wearing these to the gala,” He pulled a box out from behind his eyes and you narrowed your eyes.

It was opened to reveal the most gorgeous pair of heels you had ever seen in your life. The seemed to be made of glass, crystalline and sparkling under the dressing rooms lights. You were nearly scared to blink, for fear that they’d disappear when you opened your eyes again.

“Come on then, let’s try em’ on.” He encouraged and you quickly stepped out of the tester heels.

Harrison kneeled in front of you, slipping the shoes on carefully while you watched in one of the many mirrors. They fit like a glove. And that’s when the world seemed to hit you like a tidal wave, eyes filling with tears too quickly for you to process.

“Harrison I can’t- the dress- the shoes- it’s all to much.” You choked out with a gasp, tears spilling down your face.

His head whipped up, the man rising to meet your blurred gaze.

Seeing yourself in that dress like that killed you in a way you never knew something could. It was just too nice. No one had done anything like this for you since your father was alive, a simple act of kindness. You were just overwhelmed by your emotions, feeling undeserving of any of this.

“Have I done something wrong?” His eyebrows were pulled together in concern.

“No. The opposite. I- I don't deserve this, Harrison.” You managed to get out through your sobs and he laughed, pulling you into his arms.

“Don’t think I’ve ever made a girl cry over a shopping trip. [Y/n] just accept this as a gift, please. Besides I was not letting you come near that gala in anything but the finest I could offer you. The royal family would have my head.” He comforted you, rubbing your back til your tears dried.

When he pulled away, your face was still red, cheeks and nose tinted cherry from your outburst. You felt embarrassed, sheepishly avoiding his gaze and looking at yourself in the mirror. And even though you looked like a wreck, you could never be more beautiful when wearing that get-up. You even ran your fingers through your hair, shaking it out and actually imagining yourself at this gala.

“Excuse me- we’ll be taking the dress and the slippers!” Harrison yells out from the dressing room. “Now get out of that thing so I can buy it and get you home.”

He exits the dressing room with a wink and you release a breath you didn’t realize was being held in. You managed to slip out of the garment easily, the material sliding down your skin like water. The fact that it now belonged to you was jarring, and you held onto it tightly. 

Putting your work clothes back on was sobering, and you managed to finally accept your reality by the time you stepped outside the shop with Harrison, two bags occupying your hands.

“Shall I arrange for a hair and makeup appointment before the gala?” He asks and you fervently shake your head.

“No! No more spending your money on me, please, I don't know if I can take it.” You plead and his eyes roll with a grin occupying his face.

“Alright… no more money.” Harrison chuckles and the rest of the drive goes smoothly, the two of you getting on as if you’d known each other for years.

The boy was truly a breath of fresh air to you, yourself used to men like him being arrogant pricks who would barely pass you anything more than a predatory glance. But he was kind and treated you with respect, which was really all you could ask for in a friend. Not like you had many of those anyways. Work and school taking up all of your time to a point where any free time you had was spent between you and Netflix.

When you were dropped off at the apartment, you quietly snuck inside and into your flat. There was a small anxiety which creeped through you when thinking of your step-mother or step-sisters finding the dress. If Sheryl saw it, she would ask questions and somehow use you to weasel her way into whatever plot a sociopathic widow could make out of your new connection to the Royal Advisor. 

You made sure your door was locked before moving to your bed and lifting up a panel in the floor to reveal a space filled with your most important items. Most of them were trinkets and random pieces of jewelry, besides that your father’s old journal and a shoebox of cash you had managed to hide from your step-mother and keep for yourself from work. You slipped the shoebox and dress box carefully into the spot before placing the panel back on top of the hole. 

-

Harrison had a giddy smile on his face as he approached Tom’s room, strolling in with a champagne bottle and two glasses. Though this jovial attitude is soon disrupted when seeing the Prince’s face. 

Tom was already nursing a glass of wine, solemnly staring out his window with his phone left open on his coffee table.

“She’s got a new phone.” He grimly states and that’s all Harrison has to hear.

“Annabelle?! Why won’t you report this? It’s harassment. Prince harassment. And that’s just treason, let’s arrest her.” He rapidly gets out, rolling his eyes at the dramatics of the situation.

Of course Annabelle Valentina Roselyn Kensington had to swing back into Tom’s life right when Harrison was helping him move on and get his shit together. And who was this girl? Prince Holland’s insanely jealous and conniving ex-girlfriend who Harrison knew would never let her claws unlatch from the Royal Family. 

“You know I can’t do that.” Tom said and finally looked away from the window.

The Prince could never report the girl, he knew of his status and how quickly most of the kingdom would attack her the second word got out. No matter how she tortured him during their two year long relationship, he still cared enough to not want her hurt. 

“What’s the bubbly for?” He asks and Harrison perks up.

“This is a celebration, my friend! Your genius advisor has concocted the perfect plot to get your father off your back and keep you from any unwanted advances at the gala… including Annabelle I presume.” Tom’s face twists in confusion.

“What are you on abo-”

“I’ve got you a girl-”

“Harrison.”

“Not another setup. Not even romantic. Her name is [Y/n]. She’s not phased by status or money, in fact she almost didn’t let me buy her a dress for the event. So here’s my plan, you find her at the gala - trust me, you’ll be able to pick her out - and you give her a proposition. Ask her to spend the night with you. You have a girl on your arm who you’re not required to further pursue, because once your father realizes she’s lowborn he’ll make sure that relationship never happens, and she’s quite funny actually so she won’t be a waste of your night.” Harrison gets out in one breath, face red and chest puffed as he unleashes his masterplan.

At least the part of it which Tom would have to know.

“So you’ve gotten me a fake date, that doesn’t even know she’s my fake date? And she’ll go along with it? Can I at least see a picture before you pawn me and this girl together? And that’s IF I let you. Big IF.” Harrison’s smile could be considered borderline psychotic, the man knowing that his best friend had already agreed and just didn’t want to let it on yet.

“Right, yeah. She’s actually quite pretty.” He pulled out his phone and brought up his camera roll to a picture he snuck of you in the dress.

You had a near invisible smile on your face, not noticing his phone in the reflection and just running a hand through your hair to get a different look in the mirror. Tom had to blink a few times, momentarily speechless. He tried not to let it show to Harrison, but there was clearly something about your image that struck him in a way he hadn’t expected.

“How’d you find this girl?” He scoffs, a twinge if heat touching his cheeks when Tom realizes that there’s a slight feeling of butterflies in his stomach.

The prince did not have that feeling for a long time, and he wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about that.

“Well- funny story actually. It all started when I knocked her over and spilled latte everywhere…”

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taglist(s):

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permanent -

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[junie-bugg]

The Heartrender - Chapter Two: Embers

Hey everyone!

Here’s chapter two, in which a truce is struck, crude jokes are made, and we learn more of Peeta’s childhood.

You can read here on Tumblr or here on AO3 (I suggest reading on AO3 because I add a poem at the beginning of each chapter that I feel fits nicely with the story’s themes or the chapter’s plot.)

Big shoutout to my beta reader @nonbinarypeeta​. You da best music💕

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Sexual Content

Relationship: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark

Tags: Enemies to Lovers, witch!Katniss, witch-hunter!Peeta, AU - Shipwrecked, AU - Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Explicit Sexual Content, Furs and Fires, Angst and Fluff and Smut, sexually experienced Katniss, virgin Peeta, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Loss of Virginity, Laughter During Sex, Blood and Injury, Imprisonment, Peeta has some prejudices to work out, Peeta also has an accent, Inspired by Six of Crows

Summary:

He hated her. He hated her for what she was: an abomination, a demon sent to tear at the fabric of the natural world. He hated her for making him want to laugh. He hated her for being so brazen and sensuous and everything the women of his country were never allowed to be. But mostly he hated her because he realized he didn’t hate her. Not even a little bit.

After a shipwreck has left an abducted witch and a member of the ominous Order bent on wiping out her kind stranded on the icy shores of an uninhabited land, the two must work together to survive or face tearing each other apart in the process.

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

ALSO, I made a map! Yes, I am that level of writer nerd. (If you look closely, there’s a little Hunger Game’s reference in there. Let me know if you see it, lmaooo.)

Chapter Two: Embers

His commander had gone into the city for the night, leaving the crew on standby at the docks. Their ship, lovingly named The Bloody Rose, needed tending and Peeta, an exhausted soldier running on three hours of sleep, needed a drink. He longed for a pint of proper ale. Not the bitter swill that the ship’s cook had distilled. 

A chilled autumn wind whistled through the harbor, jostling netted shrouds and furled sails. The white and blue flag of Sjorkden snapped proudly above the crow’s nest where Thomas Jaclin quietly kept watch. There was a muted hush about the night, as if the world were holding its breath in anticipation, knowing something was about to happen. At this point, with his chores done and nothing left for him to do except lose another round of cards or go off to bed, Peeta wished something would. 

He was nursing a cup of moonshine and chatting with his friend, Yasser Pjengo, when they heard the sounds of a scuffle. He and Yasser crossed the deck and looked down onto the dock that the ship was moored to. 

There, struggling to drag someone up the gangplank, was the commander. 

“Commander on deck!” Peeta announced with all the authority he could muster, hoping his voice carried down to the lower levels to rouse the men from their games. Peeta had only recently been promoted to lieutenant, and he was going to prove he deserved it. He felt a rush of pride swell within him when the crew emerged from their sleeping quarters, blinking both the mist of alcohol and the gleam of gambling from their eyes. 

Commander Snow was of medium height with a thick beard and hard blue eyes. Though the hairs at his temples were gray, the way he carried himself was young. He spoke softly but commanded the kind of respect that caused listeners to lean in and catch every word. He now dragged a young girl with him onto the ship. Her red dress was torn and low cut, revealing the hollow between her breasts. A few strands of hair had been pulled from a tar-black braid to hang limply in front of her face. She had a blooming bruise on her jaw and a cut above her eye but otherwise seemed unharmed. 

“Men! Say hello to our newest addition. From what I’ve seen so far, she’s sure to be a feisty one.”

Some of the crew had laughed and hooted, including Peeta, but the girl snarled as she twisted and spat in the commander’s face. In return he sent a heavy punch to her gut, causing her to whimper and double over in pain. 

“I have to warn you all. This here is no ordinary witch. She’s a Heartrender.” 

Peeta sucked in a breath and felt a chill pass through the assembled crew like a breeze passes through dead grass. 

“A Heartrender…” 

“One of her kind cursed my uncle. Turned his feet backward.” 

“I heard they could snap your neck with a flick of a finger.” 

“They don’t just stop hearts. They cut them out and eat them.” 

Peeta had heard of Krellian Heartrenders. The rarest of the witches, Heartrenders could use their magic to manipulate bodies: peel the flesh from bone, collapse lungs, knot intestines, burst eyes in their sockets. He could only imagine what she would unleash upon them if her hands weren’t locked into those metal hand caps. 

Snow cleared his throat to quiet the men. A hush fell over the deck. 

“I see you’ve all heard the stories. If you let her out of those shackles, we’re all dead. I want at least one guard on her at all times.” His eyes shifted to Peeta in the front row. “Mellark, you take the first watch. Gerholt will take over at midnight, then Dawson, then Pjengo. This will be a rotating schedule. You’ll all get a chance with her before this voyage is over.” He twisted her arm, throwing her into the semicircle that Peeta and the crew had formed around them. She collapsed onto her stomach, a wilted heap of red dress and chains. “Now get her out of my sight.” 

Peeta and a few others bent down to lift her up as the commander retired to his quarters, but she swung out her arms to ward them off. 

“Don’t touch me,” she spat in Krellian. 

“Get up and walk or I’ll drag you, witch. Your choice,” Peeta growled. His accent was thick, but he knew by the way her nostrils flared that she’d understood him.

She stayed crouched on the ground, her metal covered hands in her lap. 

Peeta’s anger erupted. 

“Fine,” he snapped. He wrenched her off the floor, threw her over his shoulder, and listened to her screams the entire way down to the brig. 

X

During their slumber, the witch had commandeered his arm. 

She lay sound asleep, his bicep propped under her cheek like a pillow. He only awoke when his hand had gone numb, the blood trapped, circling and pricking within his fingers like a swarm of wasps scrabbling to get out from under his skin. He watched the subtle rise and fall of her chest, the pulse that fluttered at her temple. She looked peaceful. Almost innocent. But he knew what she was really capable of. 

Her head smacked the ground with a dull thud when he took his arm back. 

“Ow!” 

The witch glared at him as he massaged the feeling back into his palm. She made it a point to rub the tender spot on her head dramatically so that he’d feel bad. 

It didn’t work. 

“Get up,” he rumbled. 

The witch turned over and curled in on herself. “Five more minutes.” 

He rose from the nest of furs, grabbing one and wrapping it around his waist to cover his nakedness, then moved to sweep the curtain out of the doorway. From the watery yellow sun high in the sky, he determined it was noon. 

“Get up,” he growled again, injecting more anger into his tone. “We need to keep moving.” 

“Why? We found shelter,” the furry lump on the ground said. 

“If we want to find civilization we’re going to have to move. We need to get home as soon as possible.”

She turned on her side and rested her head in her hand. Her eyes gleamed like freshly polished silver in the light pouring past the curtain. “You’re letting me go home?”

“I meant my home,” he corrected, allowing the curtain to fall and shrouding them in dusk-like darkness once more.

There was a tense moment where both knew the time to act was upon them. Either kill the other or let them live. Both were risks. If Peeta killed the Heartrender, he’d be left to fend for himself. There’d be no magic to keep his blood warm. But if he hesitated and let her live in the hopes that he could return her to Sjorkden and have her tried for witchcraft, there was a chance she’d kill him down the line. It would be so easy to reach out and crush her windpipe, deaden those bright eyes, neutralize the threat. She may have magic but she couldn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds soaking wet. Peeta had height, strength, and military training on his side. He was arrogant enough to assume the odds were in his favor.

He thought she was thinking along the same lines because she eyed his muscles warily. He was broad-shouldered and obscenely muscular, the product of a decade doing hard physical training at the academy. She couldn’t crush his heart if he lashed out and stalled her hands first. He may be heavy but he was surprisingly quick. After all, he hadn’t become a witcher for nothing. 

She pursed her lips as if considering something. “I think we’d both sleep better at night if we made a truce.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Your word is as valuable as a campfire is to a fish.”

She scowled slightly, a deep line forming between her furrowed brows. “This isn’t a promise that I’ll never harm you, just as I know you won’t agree to never harm me. You are a witch hunter after all. Bloodshed is your life. But let’s make a pact that until we make it out of this, we help each other.” She paused a beat and looked away as if ashamed. “After that, all bets are off.”

Peeta had nodded, but this truce didn’t mean he trusted her to stick to it. In fact, it made him even more suspicious of her. What kind of demon agreed to the drawing out her own demise? He thought her gamble unwise and surmised she had some angle to play against him. He’d have to be especially careful from here on out.

 They faced away from each other and put their clothes on quietly. She still wore the red dress, the one from The Bloody Rose. It looked looser on her now, but the sleeves were elegant, poufed at the shoulders, and fitted down to the wrists. The skirt was still full, even after she had spent so much time sitting in her cell and thrashing about in the sea. She would have looked ready for a party if the dress wasn’t so dirty and torn. 

 She caught him watching her and winked. “Like what you see?” She twirled and the skirt flared like the petals of a blooming rose, twisting and shimmering in the low light. 

Peeta grunted as he did the last button on his dusky blue jacket. His undershirt was still damp against his skin. “It doesn’t fit you where it counts.” He gestured towards her breasts. 

 She had snorted then, happily surprised he was loosening up. 

They set out with empty hands, only having the clothes on their backs and the furs wrapped around their shoulders. The witch had taken a liking to the black one. She stroked it between her thumb and forefinger like a child would clutch to a blanket for comfort. 

The briny scent of the sea permeated the air and even so high up as they were on the cliffside, Peeta felt the fine spray of the waves collect on his cheeks. The constant rushing of wind blew his hair back and whipped the fur about his shoulders. 

They had been walking for hours when the witch asked, “What do you miss most about home?” 

Peeta wished they could just be quiet. 

“A bed to myself.” 

“Right,” the witch crowed wickedly. “I can feel how much you hate sleeping next to me. I felt it pressing into my hip last night.” 

Peeta’s cheeks flushed scarlet. He had never been with a woman. He was a member of the Order: chaste until he earned his talisman and won the right to choose a wife. For his service to the Order he’d be allowed the hand of a nobleman’s daughter. Pretty, young Sjorkden maidens with hair of palest gold and soft, supple bodies. Daughters of the nation raised in the ways of womanly charm and domestic knowledge, basket weaving and child-rearing, dancing and singing and carving. 

He had been dreaming of what his future wife would look like, what their first carnal encounters would entail, the holy honor in producing a child. As a father, a former witcher, and the husband to a woman with status, he would be granted an official seat on the council of Rjaka. His first solid foothold on the ladder of power. It was a lower rung, but it was a start. If only he could get back to his post and fulfill his service, then he would be given his freedom and permitted to marry. 

Those dreams, full of glory, sex, and fatherhood, were the source of his arousal and frustrations, not the witch’s soft skin against his body. Her deep complexion and ebony hair were not of Sjorkden. Her lips were too large, her nose too wide, her body too slender and bony. She looked as if she had spent years scrounging about for meals, with ribs and hips that protruded like sticks in a canvas bag. He liked rounded women with pillowy bosoms, not scrawny little birds. 

Or so he told himself. 

“Why do you say such lewd things?” 

“Because I can. And because I like when you turn red. It does wonders for that pale complexion of yours, valkrӕlla.” 

Valkrӕlla. 

Barbarian.

“You’re disgusting.”

“You like it,” she teased and continued walking, swaying her hips beneath the cloak of fur clasped at her throat and sweeping a glossy curtain of hair over her shoulder. Even here, in the permafrost fields of the tundra, she still smelled of moss and jasmine, as if the misty forests of Krell dwelled within her pores. 

Peeta scowled. He hated her. He hated her for what she was: an abomination, a demon sent to tear at the fabric of the natural world. He hated her for making him want to laugh. He hated her for being so brazen and sensuous and everything the women of his country were never allowed to be. But mostly he hated her because he realized he didn’t hate her. 

Not even a little bit. 

X

They walked in the hopes of finding a fishing village, or maybe a trading outpost, somewhere with an inn they could stay at. But as the day dragged on and the sun dipped precariously close to the sea, Peeta started losing hope. The witch stumbled behind him, making her way over embedded boulders and paling tufts of dead brush sticking out from the snowbanks. She squinted against the burning red sunset staining the landscape in bleeding color.

“Maybe we should head back,” she said, though they both knew this wasn’t an option. They were many hours from the whaling camp and turning around now meant they’d just be back at square one, with no food and no fire. 

 Peeta hadn’t been hungry last night, but his adrenaline had burned off, leaving his body weak and watery. He salivated at the thought of rosemary crusted mutton and boiled potatoes, buttered peas in ceramic crockery, honeyed mead, and angel cake with lemon filling. What he wouldn’t give to be back in the vast stone dining hall of the academy, laughing with Yasser through full mouths of meat and drink. After a feast, all the boys would tell stories in large circles or spar each other for prizes. Peeta had been one of the best hand-to-hand fighters among his peers and as such had accumulated a treasure trove of their makeshift awards. The wishbone of a chicken. A fork with a bent prong. A pearl someone had found in an oyster. When he had tired of winning, he would climb the stone steps to his dormitory and sleep dreamlessly on a goose down mattress. He’d wake to the rising sun and Yasser’s deep snores and know that he’d have a day of training ahead of him. Advanced lessons in combat, weapons handling and upkeep, survival skills, sailing, and instruction on foreign languages. He was a well oiled hunting machine, as he was raised to be by the masters. 

 But that was the past, a boyhood he would never return to. Peeta was a man now, and nobody was coming to instruct him. He was on his own. 

 Well, not entirely. He looked back at the witch. Her skin glowed deep bronze in the fading light and her dark hair whipped loosely about her angled face. She caught his eye and winked. 

 No, he thought grimly. I am not alone. 

X

Peeta had only been seasick once. It had been his first time on a ship, sailing from his birthplace to his new home. As the other boys “oohed” and “aahed” at the gray stone towers of the academy rising up from the mists, Peeta had vomited over the banister. 

The others had made fun of him for it. Groups targeted him in the corridors, tripping him or pulling on his hair. Others mocked him, knocked him down hard in training, and then pretended to retch dramatically as he struggled to his feet, fighting to hold back tears. They called him ‘Greenie’, for the color of his skin on that first voyage.

It was better than ‘runt’ but he still resented himself for it, ashamed he had shown weakness. He trained hard after that, alone if he had to. Classes would be over, dinner would be served in the great hall, but the masters would find him in the training rooms practicing his punches on a dummy, or throwing knives, or moving through his stances with a blade. The hours of solitude paid off, and once the students were old enough to compete for rank in the sparring circles, no one came close to Peeta’s brutal technique or raw ferocity. 

And after he broke Geoff Tonson’s leg, no one ever called him ‘Greenie’ again. 

Peeta climbed down into the bowels of the ship, feeling the slight sway of the ocean lapping against the hull as he descended. The Heartrender had been on board for two weeks now and hadn’t earned her sealegs. He shriveled his nose as he came upon her cell. The acrid scent of vomit filled the compartment.

“Time to switch?” Wilhelm asked from his seat in the corner. 

Peeta nodded. He hated guarding the Heartrender. She was in her own cell, isolated from the other witches he and the crew had captured. At least when you guarded the others you could eavesdrop on their conversations. It wasn’t much, but it was something. 

Wilhelm Larone, a fresh-faced recruit on his first-ever witcher voyage, rose and stretched languidly. He hadn’t been able to grow a full beard, but his top lip held some promising peach fuzz. “I thought a Heartrender would be more entertaining,” he said, his dark eyes sparkling as a thought occurred to him. “Hey!” He rattled her bars. “Lift up your dress.” 

The witch slumped in the corner, her skin waxy and coated in a film of sweat. Her hair was matted and oily. She blinked slowly at the wall and ignored Wilhelm’s racket. 

He sighed like a disappointed child at the zoo. “I thought the commander said she was feisty.”

“That was before she had vomit on her dress,” Peeta said dryly. 

The witch responded to Peeta’s voice, turning her head slightly to watch him between lanky strands of hair. A chill ran down Peeta’s spine at the intensity of her gaze. They hadn’t spoken since the first night when he had thrown her over his shoulder and dragged her into this very cell, but she remembered him. 

Peeta tore his eyes away. 

Wilhelm had placed his foot on the lowest step, moving to leave when she croaked: “Water.” 

“When was the last time she was fed?” Peeta asked. 

Wilhelm turned, a confused look on his face. “I don’t know. Ask the commander.” 

“At least get her a cup of water before you go to bed. We want to keep her alive for the trial.” 

Wilhelm smiled wickedly. “I have a better idea.” He jumped off the stairs and sauntered over to the Heartrender’s cell once more. “You thirsty, witch? Here, drink up.” 

Peeta watched in horror as Wilhelm unbuttoned his pants and began pissing through her cell bars. Wilhelm’s eyes, which Peeta thought were too far apart in his head, darted up to the older man’s face. “You owe me two gold pieces if I can get it in her mouth.” 

The witch made a strangled sound of disgust and tried to move away, but she was already in the corner. There was nowhere to go and her dress was soon soaked a deeper red. 

“That’s enough,” Peeta said, but Wilhelm’s stream only grew stronger. “I said that’s enough!” he barked and shoved Wilhelm away. 

In his surprise, Wilhelm sprayed the wall. “Damn, Mellark. It's a joke. Dawson’s right. You are no fun.” He shook the last drops of piss from his cock and then stuffed himself back into his pants. He turned to the witch and winked. “Maybe next time you can drink straight from the source. If you promise not to bite of course.” He then fixed his uniform and lumbered up the stairs. Peeta watched him and his half-mustache go. 

“Krą khiăh,” she whispered after the creaking of Wilhelm’s steps faded. 

Thank you.

“I didn’t do it for you,” Peeta snapped. “It was unsanitary, and your kind deserves hellfire, not some quiet death on a ship.”

Peeta spent the remainder of the night sitting on the chair in the corner, breathing in the scents of piss and vomit and misery. He hid his annoyance when the witch started sobbing. 

But the next time he reported for guard duty, he brought her a cup of water.

[peggysousfan]

I was tagged by @movrings Thanks you😊

What is the colour of your hairbrush? Grey

Name a food you never eat: Seafood of almost any kind, although I did have fried squid once and it wasn’t so bad. But fish, shrimp, and crab is gross to me lol

Are you typically too warm or too cold? Typically too warm, but I don’t mind. I love warmth.

What were you doing 45 minutes ago? Making lunch for everyone in the house

What’s your favourite candy bar? It’s a toss up between Almond Joy, Snickers, and Reese's. Depend on the mood lol

Have you ever been to a professional sports game? I don’t think so. The only sporting event I’ve been to was my older brother’s football game and that was over 10 years ago.

What was the last thing you said out loud? “Well if you want any food, it’s done.” I was talking to my brother and letting him know lunch was done, even though he was being rude and has an attitude.

What is your favourite ice cream? Cookie dough and Strawberry

What was the last thing you had to drink? Dr. Pepper

Do you like your wallet? Yeah I guess so. Its a long pink, army, camouflage with fake silver spikes on each side. I’ve had it since I was like 10 lol

What was the last thing you ate? I haven't ate today yet, so the last thing I ate was Cajun Filet biscuit from Bojangles

Did you buy any new clothes last weekend? No

What’s the last sporting event you watched? Uhhh I think a few minutes of a basketball game I saw on TV? I’m not sure. This was yeas ago

What is your favourite flavour of popcorn? I don’t typically like popcorn unless it has a lot of caramel lol

Who is the last person you sent a text message to? My mom

Ever go camping? Haven’t been in a few years but I do enjoy it. The only annoying part is sleeping on the ground. It kills my back

Do you take vitamins? Nope

Do you go to church every Sunday? Not anymore

Do you have a tan? A little bit yeah lol I’m bi racial and my skin color naturally looks tan. It gets more golden-ish in the sun during warm weather.

Do you prefer Chinese food or pizza? Chinese food😋

Do you drink your soda through a straw? Nope. I don’t see a reason to use waste when I can drink it from the bottle or glass.

What colour socks do you usually wear? Any kind I can find that fit lol

Do you ever drive above the speed limit? I don’t drive. (I know I’m 18 with no license but I have anxiety and black out when I’m stressed.)One time I was driving as practice and I panicked and don’t remember how I got to the stop sign at the end of the road. I swerved a bit and freaked out so yeah...

What terrifies you? Driving lol, heights, spiders, and being abandoned by people who promise not to leave. (Which happens more often than not. I should be use to it and not afraid anymore but I am)

Look to your left. What do you see? Wall, TV, and a hanging bookshelf

What chore do you hate most? Dusting for sure. Its annoying.

What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent?

“’Ello mate!” 

What’s your favourite soda? Cheerwine and Dr. Pepper

Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thru? I love fast food and prefer to dine in, but because of quarantine only drive thru is allowed

What’s your favourite number? I actually don’t have one lol but I like all even numbers. Don’t know why, though.

Who’s the last person you talked to? My brother

Favourite cut of beef? Uhh steak or pot roast (Depends on how the roast is made)

Last song you listened to? Hysteria by 2Cellos

Last book you read? 1984 by George Orwell

Favourite day of the week? Friday or Saturday

Can you say the alphabet backwards? Nope

How do you like your coffee? I don’t like coffee

Favourite pair of shoes? Black combat boots

Time you normally get up? Around 6-7 am. I live on a farm and have chores and animals to help take care of.

Sunrises or sunsets? Sunsets, they are so beautiful. Plus I don’t like mornings lol I prefer nights

How many blankets are on your bed? One

Describe your kitchen plates. There’s a variety from glass to kiddy plastic ones for my 4 year old nice. Those are Easter colored, the glass ones are mostly white. Some have a blue strip near the rim and one is all green. It’s just all by itself lol

Describe your kitchen at the moment. It's a bit of a mess right now. Baby food is stacked on the counter and lunch was just made so its out.

Do you have a favourite alcoholic drink? I’ve only ever tried three kinds: whiskey, beer, and strawberry daiquiri. And I have to say strawberry daiquiris are the best by far.

Do you play cards? Does solitaire count lol

What colour is your car? I don’t have a car. But my mom’s is a black SUV and my dad’s is a silver pick up truck.

Do you know how to change a tire? I do not...

Your favourite state? I don’t have one. Although I do want to move to either South Carolina or Tennessee

Favourite job you’ve had? I haven’t gotten a ‘official’ job yet. Does selling my art work count? Because I suppose that would be my favorite. The only way I’ve ever been paid for doing something was babysitting the new neighbors kids or doing small lawn work for the old neighbors before they moved, that and selling my woodburnings.

How did you get your biggest scar? I have two that are relevantly the same. One is a burn mark on my arm from making dinner for my brother and Grandfather, the other is on the same arm, but up near my shoulder. Its from a deep scratch when I got cut by barbwire.

I'm tagging @peggycarter46 @peggysousoversteggy @musiclmaiden @truth-renowned @a-wonderingmind @agentdanielsousa and anyone else who may want to do this

[chiefwritinghound-blog]

The Adventures of Bunsington: Going Home (Chapter 1)

Bunsington was a simple girl who wanted one thing. She wanted to go home. The country of Grenalag was a very large place and she had packed up, against her will, to move across the entire country to a new kingdom at the ripe age of 12. Of course, she had always had a taste for home. She occasionally wrote letters to the boy she had fallen in love with when she was a mere child and thought of her home often, even after she had lived in her new kingdom, the kingdom of Trandate, for almost 5 years. That was where she matured and where she learned. It was even where she found Tofu, the miniature turtle she kept in her pocket and consulted for all decisions. Yet no experience could measure up to the amazing memories of her home and she forever longed to go back. She had spent a whole day and night telling Tofu of her home; all of the vague and all of the specific and detailed memories she had of the place, speaking fondly of it (aside from the smothering humidity in the summer times). She had fallen asleep that night with visions of her young love and the lavender fields she had laid in for countless hours practicing her lute in dancing in her mind.

   The next morning, Bunsington donned her bright green leggings and brown robe, putting Tofu gently in her inside breast pocket to make sure she would not be seen since talking turtles were rather rare-- even more rare was the friendship they had so she wouldn’t chance Tofu being seen. Finally, she grabbed her lute, her cards and a few apples and oranges for lunch before setting out for the day, planning on playing her music outside the local tavern to make a few bronze and silver pieces, perhaps even a bit of gold if she struck the right chords into the right people's’ hearts, but the thought was cut short as Tofu’s old voice wheezed out. “Mis Bunsington,” She said in her frail old voice. Bunsington looked down into her robe, questioning Tofu with a look. Tofu seemed, though, to not care a bit about what kind of look she had on her face as she continued, “Perhaps you should go back to this land of yours. A fine bard like yourself may very well make enough money breezing through a few towns to make it back to this Kingdom of Home you speak of,” She said, ducking her small head back into the pocket to avoid the bright sun. Bunsington didn’t bother to press further on why or what she had meant since she knew she would receive nothing but silence from her short-spoken companion.

   She let her mind wander as she trotted down the dirt road to the tavern, Tofu had never actually made a suggestion before. She only gave out advice when it was requested, so Bunsington figured that she should take it a bit more seriously than she had initially thought too. While Bunsington missed and loved her home dearly, she had never actually thought about going back there, for it was so far and she lived by herself after her parents were killed by the local gang of the town when she was 14. She got lost in her own mind-- so much so that when she had arrived at the tavern, it felt as if she barely had time at all to think. She set up her lute case open at her feet, starting to play and sing to the men and women who passed by, not leaving her spot until nightfall, glad about the amount that she had earned, tucking it all away. She sat down, not realizing that she hadn’t eaten all day until her stomach growled loudly, telling her that she should feel hungry even though she didn’t. She plopped on the ground and ate two oranges as she looked at the stars, jumping and scurrying to her feet when she was kicked in her lower back. She looked at who had struck the blow and saw nothing but a dark purple cloak with two large, black boots sticking out of the bottom. She knew who it was. The tax collector from the Spaded Hoods. One had to pay the gang going in and out of town, and if they were caught out after dark. She shakily reached into her pocket, knowing that she would meet the same fate as her hard-headed parents if she refused. She held out all of the money she had made and was met with a grunt. “This is not all of it.” The man said in a thick, foreign accent. She let out a soft whimper. “It is!” She cried, opening her lute case to show him. “Please, sir, I have given you everything,” She said truthfully, opening her pockets for him. He stepped forward and patted her pockets, taking an extra long time feeling on her backside. She held her breath, not even caring that he was touching her inappropriately as she was terrified he would touch her breasts and find Tofu. She felt Tofu’s little breaths which meant she was breathing hard and knew what was going on, so she was just as nervous. She let out a silent sigh of relief as the man stepped back. “Do you have any more oranges?” He asked, and she could finally see his face under the hood as he properly faced her under the flame of the oil lamp which stayed lit every night outside the tavern. He wasn’t an ugly man. He wasn’t the most pretty man, either, but he definitely wasn’t ugly. “No,” She frowned. “I have some at my home if you want some so badly, though,” SHe said, knowing it wasn’t wise to reject a tax collector. He thought on it for a moment before nodding.

She started to walk off, staring intensely at the ground as she walked, watching her shoes and only her shoes crunch on the gravel path up to her house as she walked in, expecting the man to wait outside. She gasped when she heard the door shut and whipped around to see the man standing there. She opened her mouth but snapped it right back shut. She wouldn’t say anything on it. Not for the sake of her safety. “I’ve never seen you before... Your accent is foreign too,” She said, knowing it was risky to engage him in conversation, but finding it calming to her own nerves to do so. “Yes... I roam from town to town. These… strange men-- they have employed me for the week and offered a good pay for simple tax collections,” He said, playing off his position of power as if it were nothing. Bunsington was absolutely taken aback at how he could be so casual about threatening and stealing from innocent people for others. She dug through her pantry and looked for an orange, feeling slightly panicked when she came across none. She had to stall the big an in her small house who could easily take her over or steal from her if he decided to be enraged over her lack of oranged. “I’m leaving here by weeks end as well,” She said, hoping he would ask about it. “I never said I was leaving.” He grunted. She opened a drawer and found an orange, wanting to fall on the ground from relief. “Oh, I see,” She said, walking to the door, pleased beyond measure when he followed her. “Well, I hope for you safe travels when and wherever you go,’ She said, slowly closing her door. “And I bid you goodnight,” She said, sitting on the floor and listening to his barreling steps crunching gravel as he walked away. She opened her breast pocket and held Tofu close. “That was close, Tofu,” She said, hanging her head in a defeated way. “You did well, Mis,” She croaked softly. “If you had not carried on as you did, you would have met the same kind of demise as your mother and father. I have taught you well,” She said, crediting herself for the success. Bunsington didn’t fight it, standing up and heading off to bed, utterly exhausted from the events of the day.

She had slept a dreamless sleep and awoken in the morning uncomfortable from never taking off the clothes she had dressed in for the previous day. She was already sweating, so she took off her robes and pulled on a thin shirt she had sewn the last summer for just the occasion, leaving on her leggings and stretching out. She performed her daily chores and went through her whole house, packing up her few clothes and things she held dear, letting Tofu rest on her shoulder the whole time, consulting her on what was worth keeping if she wanted to keep it. Tofu reminded her that her home was far and that she needed to take the bare minimum if she were to travel comfortably. At the end of her process she had decided on a few pair of leggings, undershirts, and robes, the warmest blanket she owned, a few small ornaments she held dear and, of course, her favorite lute to pack into a second bag she had. Her normal messenger back she often carried contained tarot and playing card and a disguise for if she was ever in a pinch, and of course room for the food she would be taking along the way, so she decided not to compromise any of that space. She looked at her home and sighed softly. She wasn’t actually sure how to get rid of it now that she had everything packed up, so she brought her small companion to eye level. “Tofu, what should we do with the house now that we’re leaving to go home?” She asked, sounding a bit hopeless. “You are a kind girl, but sometimes rather dull,” Tofu said bluntly. “Why not give it to one of the homeless? They can sustain themselves here as long as they acquire their own food. They even have your old clothes, bedding, and even your books to keep them warm!” She said, making Bunsington feel a bit like a dunce for not thinking of something so simple in the first place. She lugged her large bag onto her shoulders, along with her messenger bag and picked up her lute case before heading on her way. She saw an old homeless woman sitting outside a shop advertising new and fixed shoes. “Hello, lady,” Bunsington said not so gracefully. “I plan on becoming a nomad and have no use for my house anymore. I’ve already paid the darned thing to the kingdom, so if you want it you can have it and everything in it as well.” She smiled brightly, feeling a bit uncomfortable seeing such an old lady cry--even if it was obviously tears of joy. She didn’t like all of the cries of thanks, so she simply told her where the house was located and was off walking, looking at road signs to see her way, paying the burly man with a strange accent on the way out as taxes for using the bridge out of the kingdom.

   Though Bunsington started early in the day, she had set out on foot and hadn’t realized that it would take lots out of her to do so, especially carrying what little belongings she decided to keep. She had trudged on, though, refusing to camp in the woods at all, not wanting to spend the night on the cold hard ground if he didn’t absolutely have to, so when she saw the lights of the next kingdom in the distance, she felt suddenly as if she could jump for joy. “Tofu... I’m not sure I can make it all the way to my home without a horse... But I don’t have enough money to buy one! What should we do?” SHe asked, a bit distressed since she didn’t want to put her plans on hold or have to completely cancel them altogether. “You have a few gold pieces, that should be enough to pay for a week’s stay in an inn or tavern, and you can play until you have enough for a horse! The time will be over before you know it and you’ll wish you had more in the future when you think back on it, Mis bunsington,” She said before sleepily retreating into her shell for the night. Bunsington made the rest of the way to the town and spent quite a bit looking for the local inn. When she found it, she paid for two nights (though she planned to spend the week as Tofu said, it was all she could comfortably afford) and made her way to her bedroom, unlocking the door and sitting her things down, locking it back for the night before sitting Tofu on the pillow beside her, kissing her little shell before settling in and making a mental note to look for the stables the next morning.

When Bunsington awoke, the sun had barely come up, yet it still seemed a bit too bright for her liking. She sat up and touched her toes and looked for Tofu on the bed before finding her nested under the covers. “Hello there, Tofu,” She cooed in a merry voice, glad to be with her on such a nice adventure. She looked through her stuff, doing an inventory check and finding everything right where it should be. She changed her clothes and grabbed her lute, putting Tofu in her breast pocket once more before heading down into the town to find the local tavern. After asking a nice looking old lady for directions, she found it and sat up outside, starting to sing a merry tune which seemed to draw the attention of quite a few folks. Seeing the small crowd that gathered to see her sing and with quite a few tips in only the first hour, she felt proud and satisfied, collecting her money and counting it out, amazed that she actually got two gold pieces. She figured that this must be a decently rich kingdom since she also got a majority of silver pieces instead of bronze. She smiled to herself and put all of the pieces into a small pouch she tied to her waist. “Tofu, are you hungry? I can get you some nice fresh lettuce,” She said, spying a farmer’s market down one of the cross streets she was approaching. She sighed softly when she received no answer, reaching into her pocket and feeling around, prodding at Tofu’s shell until she got a grumpy, muffled ‘Yes,’ knowing that Tofu probably stayed up a good part of the night. As she walked on, she wondered just what her little companion could have to think or worry about enough to stay up long enough to be so tired. She saw many things she would have liked to buy, but she reminded herself that not only did she not have the space in her luggage, but she also didn’t have a basket to carry all of the things she wanted, so she simply grabbed a head of lettuce for Tofu and headed back to the Inn, smiling brightly at the pretty woman working the front desk, thinking her hairstyle was rather lovely as she walked up the steps to her room. She sat tofu on the bed and tore off a piece of lettuce, sitting in it in front of her shell, knowing she would get it when she wanted. “I’m going to go pay for another few nights and ask that pretty woman at the front if there is a stable that sells horses in this kingdom since it seems rather small. I won't actually leave without you and I’m locking the door so no one can come in,” She said, receiving no response, but knowing that Tofu had heard.

Bunsington headed off downstairs once more after making sure multiple times that her door was locked, sitting a few silver pieces in front of the woman. "I’d like to pay for another three nights,” She said, being met with a smile in return since she had added on a bit more than the asking price for the extra nights. “I was wondering if your kingdom had a stable anywhere? Specifically, one that sells some of its horses,” She inquired, glancing around at the woman's workspace, noting that it looked homey but not messy, thinking that when she finally settles down she would like to decorate her house, or at least her room, in such a manner. The woman spoke in a small, mousy voice which slightly surprised Bunsington since most women that had red hair she had ever met were loud and had strong voices, “There is a stable, but it only sells donkeys. I’d have to warn you, though, try to do business with the husband because his wife loves to haggle and make you pay even more than what her original price was,” She smiled fondly and Bunsington wondered just how well she knew the woman to have such a smile before thanking her and heading back up to her room, greeted by the adorable sight of Tofu munching slowly on her small piece of lettuce. “Well, Tofu, it looks like we’re getting a donkey.” She said, telling Tofu about all the money she had made and about how pretty and mysterious the woman at the front desk was. “You should have gotten her name,” Tofu said after she had swallowed her small mouthful of greens. “Perhaps then you could name a plant after her when this is all over,” she said. Bunsington gasped. “She would be lavender!” She exclaimed, not sure if it was the day's events or the actual woman (though it was probably a bit of both) that made her so excited. “She even had a few plants around her desk. I think I’ll catch her name on our way out,” Bunsington said, making up her mind about the woman. She stretched out. “So, Tofu, should I keep singing for a few days before we get our mule, or should I just get him this afternoon?” She asked. Tofu thought on it for a bit while she munched on her lettuce. “‘I think,’ She finally responded, “That you should continue to sing. We will buy the mule when we have double the cost of the asking price, not including money for staying in this room and food for the both of us,” She said, seeming happy with her decision as she went back to munching and ignoring what Bunsington had to say. She stood and stretched, laying down beside her turtle friend and just daydreaming, lost in her thoughts and humming. “Perhaps I could write a song about her,” She said softly. Tofu, though, continued to ignore her as she slowly made her way through the lettuce, determined to finish the whole leaf since it was such a rare occasion for her to have lettuce, especially lettuce so crisp and nice.

At the lack of response, Bunsington took out her lute and began to strum, humming a melody. She spent the rest of the day making a tune for that red-haired woman.

[littlelovelymemes]

✰ * º ❛ pioneer ask meme. ❜

‘  some things are out of my hands.  ’ ‘  i’m what time and consequence have made me.  ’ ‘  sit back and watch the world explode.  ’ ‘  here come the fireworks, baby.  ’ ‘  sometimes you can feel so smart, just like a ghost in school clothes.  ’ ‘  my days are mostly hazy.  ’ ‘  here comes the hurricane, baby.  ’ ‘  if i am not a man, what am i then?  ’ ‘  my head, my hands are really all i have.  ’ ‘  don’t stand in line -- identify.  ’ ‘  i bought the last plane ticket to the end of the world.  ’ ‘  who ever says that the good die young?  ’ ‘  all the boys are alive.  ’ ‘  time to give them what you’re waiting for.  ’ ‘  if the drugs don’t work then you probably need more.  ’ ‘  my tongue, my teeth are all you’re gonna taste.  ’ ‘  i’m feeling pretty dirty, baby. forgive my sins.  ’ ‘  i get the feeling you can save me, honey, my heroine.  ’ ‘  your hips, my hands, you swing and you dance.  ’ ‘  i’m feeling pretty lonely, baby.  ’ ‘  just let me in.  ’ ‘  you’re my heroine, just suicide.  ’ ‘  if i let you in, you crawl inside.  ’ ‘  you save my skin.  ’ ‘  i feel a little withdrawal, honey. come pick me up.  ’ ‘  took a hit from your level, now i just can’t get enough.  ’ ‘  your taste, my touch.  ’ ‘  a little bit of love and a whole lot of lust.  ’ ‘  well, we’re trapped in this human body.  ’ ‘  i’m trapped. i’ve got no place to go.  ’ ‘  there’s still so much i don’t know.  ’ ‘  i just need some time to figure this thing out.  ’ ‘  i just need some time.  ’ ‘  we’re trapped in this modern city.  ’ ‘  i can’t even please my mother cause there’s still so much that she don’t know.  ’ ‘  this can’t be all for nothing, but this time is all the time i get.  ’ ‘  some days feel alone, on your own like a rolling stone.  ’ ‘  a perfect waste of a perfect day.  ’ ‘  some days feel like chores.  ’ ‘  you get more than you bargain for.  ’ ‘  i hate to say i told you so, but i just thought i’d let you know.  ’ ‘  some days, they taste like lemonade.  ’ ‘  some days can feel like razorblades.  ’ ‘  i wish i could float away some days.  ’ ‘  some days smell like spring.  ’ ‘  it’s reality.  ’ ‘  i’m fucked up again.  ’ ‘  i should drive tonight, but i keep thinking of you.  ’ ‘  i hurt you again.  ’ ‘  i shouldn’t lie tonight, so the next few words are true.  ’ ‘  never again will i leave you high and dry.  ’ ‘  this time, i more than mean it.  ’ ‘  i’m sorry i’m not what you wanted.  ’ ‘  i’m sorry i let you down.  ’ ‘  i could use some poor excuse.  ’ ‘  i’m messed up again.  ’ ‘  i’m messed up again, thinking about the times i was lost and you let me in.  ’ ‘  i’m only human, both you and i knew the way this would end.  ’ ‘  i am weakness.  ’ ‘  i am greatness.  ’ ‘  i am wasted.  ’ ‘  i’ll make this the anthem for a dying breed.  ’ ‘  trust in us, we’re all you’ve got these days.  ’ ‘  take a look inside my heart.  ’ ‘  let’s get carried away.  ’ ‘  don’t you dare -- don’t you ever give up.  ’ ‘  don’t you ever give us on us, my dear.  ’ ‘  i am selfless.  ’ ‘  i am selfish.  ’ ‘  i’m anything that i want to be.  ’ ‘  this is violent.  ’ ‘  this is honest.  ’ ‘  you people, you are my friends.  ’ ‘  the devil, he can’t come in tonight.  ’ ‘  looking for misery, but she found me lying naked on the floor.  ’ ‘  i was going insane.  ’ ‘  the devil told me his name, but he’s not welcome here anymore.  ’ ‘  tell me, what do you see when you’re looking at me?  ’ ‘  this sense of responsibility is killing me inside.  ’ ‘  stay away, sweet misery.  ’ ‘  the pressure’s building with time.  ’ ‘  i made it up in my mind.  ’ ‘  i’ve got excuses for all these things that i tried in my life.  ’ ‘  let’s make this moment last.  ’ ‘  i am alone.  ’ ‘  i am alone. no, not because i’m lost, because i’m found.  ’ ‘  i like the way it sounds when i’m at home.  ’ ‘  don’t say that i can’t do it on my own.  ’ ‘  you did collide and broke through the other side straight through my heart.  ’ ‘  you’re the ember to my flame when it gets dark.  ’ ‘  i love the way it feels when i’m with you.  ’ ‘  i cannot find the words.  ’ ‘  two-hundred thirty paces to my place.  ’ ‘  i should not be alone.  ’ ‘  i’ll burn this house down.  ’ ‘  no need for walls now.  ’ ‘  when i’m with you, i’m at home.  ’ ‘  because when i’m with you, i feel like i’m right at home.  ’ ‘  went outside and saw the moon and it made me think of you.  ’ ‘  there you were inside my brain.  ’ ‘  i’ve been thinking of you.  ’ ‘  you still haven’t changed your mind.  ’ ‘  i need you by my side.  ’ ‘  i’ll drive till dawn to show you i’m the one.  ’ ‘  before i go, please know i’m trying to be a better man.  ’ ‘  before i leave, please don’t get angry.  ’ ‘  just dry your eyes and take my hand.  ’ ‘  i’ll make this right.  ’ ‘  i will try.  ’ ‘  don’t you cry.  ’ ‘  close your eyes.  ’ ‘  everything is gonna be alright.  ’ ‘  you’re so young and still so free.  ’ ‘  i will try to be a better man.  ’ ‘  without you, there is no me.  ’ ‘  i hope things change eventually.  ’ ‘  tell me how to feel like we did.  ’ ‘  tell me how to feel like we did when we were young.  ’ ‘  i remember nights we would sing ‘till we saw the sun.  ’ ‘  you were dancing to your favorite song and all my friends, they were singing along.  ’ ‘  let’s run free and carry on.  ’ ‘  take me to the time when things were fine.  ’ ‘  it’s all broken now.  ’ ‘  always keep in mind things are fine.  ’ ‘  we’ll figure it out.  ’ ‘  turn it up, it’s my song.  ’ ‘  i can’t sing, but i’ll sing along.  ’ ‘  i can feel it in my bones.  ’ ‘  take it fast, take it slow.  ’ ‘  let me tell you something that you don’t know.  ’ ‘  we’re all a little drunk and we wanna hear some rock and roll.  ’ ‘  is anybody listening?  ’ ‘  where did that old feeling go?  ’ ‘  don’t stop listening to rock and roll.  ’ ‘  i asked you to dance and i almost blew it.  ’ ‘  i only kissed her on the mouth cause you told me to do it.  ’ ‘  is this a waste of all my precious time?  ’ ‘  could this chance that i take lead me to losing my mind?  ’ ‘  sometimes you’ve gotta let go.  ’ ‘  all i know is i’m still waiting for my sun to shine.  ’ ‘  i see our clouds when i look around.  ’ ‘  rain falls from my mouth as it hits the ground.  ’ ‘  lead me to the light cause i’m still waiting for my sun to shine.  ’ ‘  what does it take to be a liar?  ’ ‘  i wondered why it’s such a beautiful day, i’m still sitting inside.  ’ ‘  i was dancing with the devil.  ’ ‘  i was singing dirty songs, pulling whiskey from the bottle till the early break of dawn.  ’ ‘  here’s to getting caught with you.  ’ ‘  i was running with the wolves.  ’ ‘  i was howling at the moon.  ’ ‘  i felt lonely, lost, and stranded.  ’ ‘  i felt down and torn apart.  ’ ‘  no cash left in my pockets, just a shitty fortune card.  ’ ‘  strength will find you sooner than you ever thought it would.  ’ ‘  the pain, it turned to anger, moved to joy, so now i’m good.  ’ ‘  i’m one pack of smokes from broke.  ’ ‘  i can tell i will make it on my own.  ’ ‘  i’ll keep on fighting.  ’ ‘  in the end, when you sink, we float.  ’ ‘  i want you just the way you are.  ’ ‘  just come back to bed.  ’ ‘  stay with me.  ’ ‘  love, you know it’s true: i want you.  ’ ‘  i’ll buy you rings and shiny diamond things.  ’ ‘  don’t want nothing from you. your love is all i need.  ’ ‘  come on and dance a little closer now.  ’ ‘  come on, move a little slower now.  ’ ‘  just take the chance.  ’ ‘  i ain’t gonna hurt you.  ’ ‘  i want you.  ’ ‘  stay in bed.  ’ ‘  we’ll work it out.  ’ ‘  stay here forever.  ’ ‘  stay in bed, we’ll work it out.  ’ ‘  worse or better, i’m leaving.  ’ ‘  no more laughter, i mean it.  ’ ‘  you’re broken, i promise.  ’ ‘  i’ll miss you, i’m sorry.  ’ ‘  if i run away, i’ll never look back.  ’ ‘  you can beg, you can cry. you can say you’ll try, but i can’t take that chance.  ’ ‘ i can’t fool you.   ’ ‘  pushed me too hard, i’m shaking.  ’ ‘  you’re talking, no walking.  ’ ‘  i’m falling.  ’ ‘  so long.  ’ ‘  go on and waste my time.  ’ ‘  don’t ever cross that line.  ’ ‘  you’ll never know unless you take it there.  ’ ‘  but don’t ever leave my mind.  ’ ‘  please don’t.  ’ ‘  just take it there with me.  ’ ‘  you’ve been searching for something that you’re never gonna find.  ’ ‘  kiss yesterday behind.  ’ ‘  i’ve been there.  ’ ‘  please believe me.  ’ ‘  now here’s something you’ll be singing: bye.  ’ ‘  you’ve been walking with regret, like there’s no hope for today.  ’ ‘  you can’t paint it silver and then call it gold.  ’ ‘  you gotta say bye, bye, bye. goodbye to yesterday.  ’ ‘  now honey, don’t believe him.  ’ ‘  lord knows he’s been deceiving.  ’ ‘  if you’re looking for some healing, well baby, look right my way.  ’ ‘  it leads straight to hell.  ’ ‘  i need you closer.  ’ ‘  i need you beside me.  ’ ‘  good love will find me.  ’ ‘  the coffee’s cold.  ’ ‘  you always end up alone.  ’ ‘  so no more lying and no more fighting.  ’ ‘  tossing coins down the wishing well. don’t fall in now, it leads straight to hell.  ’ ‘  i see fire, it’s almost blinding.  ’ ‘  come out and find me.  ’ ‘  so fuck your coins and i wish you well.  ’ ‘  it feels good, don’t it?  ’

[esonetwork]

Timestamp #156: Battlefield

New Post has been published on https://esopodcast.com/timestamp-156-battlefield/

Timestamp #156: Battlefield

Doctor Who: Battlefield (4 episodes, s26e01-e04, 1989)

  The final classic season begins with an old trope and an old friend. We begin with retired Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart shopping for trees with his wife, reminiscing on his days with UNIT. Elsewhere, a familiar-looking sword glows with unearthly light as Brigadier Winifred Bambera and her UNIT soldiers conduct military exercises in the country.

On the TARDIS, the Doctor is tracking a distress signal from Earth that has saturated all of time and space, across the boundaries that divide one universe from another. The TARDIS arrives at the source of the signal, three years in Ace’s relative future. Ace and the Doctor hitchhike with archaeologist Peter Warmsly after the new Brigadier bypasses them. As they drive to a nearby battlefield dig, several armored knights crash land from space. The Doctor and Ace infiltrate the UNIT nuclear missile site with old identification cards, one belonging to Liz Shaw. Bambera confiscates the passes, but one soldier remembers the Doctor from Lethbridge-Stewart’s days.

A space knight investigates the TARDIS exterior while the Secretary General calls Lethbridge-Stewart to tell him about the Doctor’s arrival. Bambera takes the Doctor and Ace to a nearby hotel where they can find accommodations. She then spots the TARDIS and walks into the middle of a battle between the space knights.

At the hotel, Ace meets Shou Yuing, a fellow explosives enthusiast, while the Doctor converses with blind psychic innkeeper Elizabeth Rowlinson. Bambera (and Warmsly) end up at the hotel as Lethbridge-Stewart dons his uniform one more time.  The Doctor and Warmsly talk about the scabbard, which has psychic energy and is linked to a strange woman in a crystal ball.

The battle propels the knight into the hotel’s brewery, driving our heroes to investigate. They find the knight, who is a human named Ancelyn who claims that the Doctor is Merlin. The distress call was Excalibur’s Call and placed the planet in the middle of a war that doesn’t belong in this dimension. As the quartet tries to leave, they are ambushed by Bambera (who tries to apprehend them) and the enemy knights (who try to kill them).

The Doctor tries to negotiate, but Bambera is quick to the trigger. The enemy leader is Mordred, and he warns the Doctor of his mother’s (Morgaine, who has waited twelve centuries) coming reckoning. The enemy retreats, the Doctor’s party retires to the hotel, and Bambera and the knight do the ritual dance of dominance.

Using a brother sword to Excalibur, Mordred conducts a ritual to link his home dimension to modern Carbury. The scabbard on the wall launches toward the lake, Mordred is swimming in Highlander-era fantasy, and Morgaine crosses into our dimension. She calls to the Doctor telepathically, and when he refuses her, she declares war on their “last battlefield.”

In the morning, the Doctor and Ace visit Warmsly’s dig, finding a marker that reads “dig hole here” in the Doctor’s handwriting. Ace blows open the hole and they descend into the ground. As Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart arrives in Carbury, Morgaine attacks his helicopter. The pilot sets it down successfully, although Lieutenant Lavel is injured, and Lethbridge-Stewart sets out for help. He soon encounters Morgaine and her army, and after a discussion, they part ways honorably. Lethbridge-Stewart commandeers Shou’s car.

In the underground tunnel, Ace and the Doctor enter a strange room that obeys the Doctor’s commands. He presumes that the place was built by Merlin, and that he could possibly be Merlin in his own future. The facility is really a spacecraft for traveling between dimensions, and it contains King Arthur (in suspended animation) and Excalibur. Ace accidentally draws Excalibur, releasing an automated defense system. Ace runs the wrong direction and ends up trapped in an airtight chamber that fills with water. The Doctor manipulates some controls and continues to battle the defense system as Ace is ejected to the surface of the lake, echoing the Lady of the Lake legend as she emerges with Excalibur. She passes the sword to Ancelyn, Bambera, and Warmsly as Shou and Lethbridge-Stewart arrive.

In a touching reunion, Lethbridge-Stewart goes into the ship and saves the Doctor, and the duo return to the surface. Meanwhile, Morgaine orders her troops to find Excalibur and kill any who stand in the way. At the inn, Mordred taunts the innkeepers and lusts after Lieutenant Lavel as his mother arrives. Morgaine kills Lavel after extracting military knowledge from her mind, and rewards the innkeepers for their treatment of her son by restoring Elizabeth’s sight.

The hero party returns to the hotel – the women and modern military leaders bristle under Lethbridge-Stewart’s ways – surviving an assault along the way. There, they find that the locals are being evacuated, though Warmsly and the Rowlinsons require a little psychic convincing from the Doctor, but Ace and Shou slip away in the organized chaos. The Doctor and Lethbridge-Stewart hit the road (in Bessie!) to find Ancelyn and Bambera and defend the missile convoy. They leave Ace and Shou at the hotel, armed with a piece of chalk to draw a circle of protection. The former Brigadier also reveals some new hardware from UNIT, including armor-piercing rounds for Daleks, gold rounds for Cybermen, and silver rounds just because. Ace and Shou draw the circle and take refuge as an ethereal darkness falls around them, and Morgaine tries to draw them out with psychic games before summoning a demonic creature.

The missile site is a battlefield with UNIT facing Mordred’s troops. As Ancelyn and Mordred engage each other, the Doctor stops the confrontation but is surprised to learn that the battle was a distraction to allow Morgaine to seek the sword. She stands over Ace and Shou with her summoned creature, the Destroyer. Mordred offers a trade – the captives for Excalibur – but the Doctor succumbs to rage and threatens to decapitate Mordred if Morgaine does not surrender. Morgaine calls his bluff and the Doctor yields, but Lethbridge-Stewart steps up in his stead. Morgaine is unswayed, restarting the battle as the Doctor and Lethbridge-Stewart put Morded in the car and race to the hotel.

Morgaine figures out that she cannot breach the chalk circle, but the Destroyer can. All it needs to is to be freed from its silver shackles. The Destroyer brings the hotel down around the ladies, and Mordred escapes. Morgaine flees with Excalibur and the Destroyer, receiving news that her army has been decimated. The Doctor and Lethbridge-Stewart pursue Morgaine into her portal, and Ace follows with the box of silver bullets shortly afterward. Lethbridge-Stewart is tossed aside by the Destroyer but the Doctor reclaims Excalibur. Morgaine frees the beast as an angry Mordred arrives, and the two return to their realm. The Doctor, Lethbridge-Stewart, and Ace regroup, and the Doctor prepares to face the Destroyer with the silver bullets. Lethbridge-Stewart stuns the Doctor, claiming that he is more disposable than the Time Lord, and faces off with the Destroyer. Three shots of silver later and the creature explodes, but Lethbridge-Stewart escaped with a promise that he is done with all of this.

Morgaine and Mordred kidnap Bambera and attempt to launch the nuclear missile. In the spacecraft, the Doctor, Lethbridge-Stewart, Ace, and Ancelyn restore Excalibur and try to release King Arthur, but a note from the Doctor reveals that the king died in battle. The good news is that they can still stop the missile. The Doctor faces off against Morgaine and appeals to her honor, compelling her to stop the missile’s countdown. She wants to face Arthur in combat, but news of his death devastates her.

Ace jubilantly destroys the spacecraft and the Doctor renders Mordred unconscious. Mordred and Morgaine are turned over to UNIT as our heroes retire to the Lethbridge-Stewart estate. The ladies take Bessie on an adventure while the men are left to chores and cooking supper.

  This was a good (if final) adventure in the classic era with the Brig, and I enjoyed the references from his era to tie the legacy together. He’s back in fantastic form here for his finale, and it really buoys up a story that could have otherwise drown in tried and once true but now tired story tropes. I mean, I groaned when I saw that this was an Arthurian myth tale, and some of the obvious symbolism (Ace as the Lady of the Lake, for example) drew more of them from me.

I did love seeing Ace bond with Shou over their common attraction to explosives. I also love McCoy’s flourishes and gags that counter his growing darkness. Finally, in a reach back to near the beginning of the franchise, I did enjoy seeing Jean Marsh back in action once again. This time she was Morgaine, but way back when she was once Sara Kingdom.

I settled around a 3.5 rating for this one, and I look forward, so this story takes advantage of rounding up.

  Rating: 4/5 – “Would you care for a jelly baby?”

    UP NEXT – Doctor Who: Ghost Light

  The Timestamps Project is an adventure through the televised universe of Doctor Who, story by story, from the beginning of the franchise. For more reviews like this one, please visit the project’s page at Creative Criticality.