#idfk what to do about it other than threaten to quit

[kinemortophobian]

-

[theemporium]

Oh god you’ve done it now with the royal!au for lestappen ok brainrot share time GO (this is so long I’m sorry)

So before queenie (I’m sticking with queenie bc I’m pretty sure princess is already one of you pairings) and Charles even got married she was already getting all the signals that he really didn’t want this betrothal and while she’s disappointed at first (bc ✨misogyny✨ in monarchies) since she’s always been told her betrothal would end with them falling in love over time (her royal parents being a HORRIBLE example of this and she realizes it and is skeptical but still hopeful!!!) but she also knew that for this too happen they both would need to at least be interested in making this work

So for months while they’re getting ready to be married they talk and they talk and Charles of course is escorted by his personal guard and head of the kings guard, Sir Max (sir implies knighthood right?). And she’s noticing that max is walking a little to close to Charles and Charles is looking back at max a little too often but she doesn’t think it’s her place to say anything, she’s good childhood friends with her own head handmaiden (or whatever the noble women that attend to female royals are called).

But she also notices the looks of jealousy sir max throws her way and THAT really confuses her. Until one day she’s looking for Charles in his office (Is there a different word for it in royal things??? Idfk OFFICE IT IS) and they’re just aggressively making out. It’s that moment where it all clicks but of course she squeals in surprise and that’s what tips them off to her presence

And of course max starts to threaten her while Charles is talking over him trying to calm him down until reader is like “I don’t care” which deep deep DEEP down she’s lying bc she thought that her and Charles were starting to get along despite the fact that Charles still seems disappointed some days.

And then the three of them talk and she begins covering for the two when necessary and max is still standoffish with queenie but Charles and her just become better and better friends.

And then the wedding and coronation (joint affair, mentally I’m choosing to believe that pascale was queen regent until Charles got married) happens and max is finally opening up to queenie as well bc - well - he’s her guard as well now.

And then they just kinda go from there until Charles starts feeling bad that queenie is always covering for them. Max notices. They don’t talk about it for weeks until max starts doing the same. And from there it’s just an “oh shit” moment when they realize what the other is thinking at the same time and talk about it

Sorry this ended up a lot longer than I thought DAMN

babe, I think you’re thinking of someone else because I don’t have a princess girlie in any of my pairings😭at least none of which I remember

BUT PLEASE THE POTENTIAL IS !!!!

I’m gonna make it worse! her feeling isolated because she’s from another kingdom and maybe people are quite standoffish with her. they don’t know how they feel about their queen coming from another kingdom. they don’t like.

and could you imagine charles is off somewhere and max is guarding her. and maybe someone makes a comment to her. maybe it’s someone who works in the castle and max sees how upset she gets, even though she tries to brush it off

and it opens this whole new side of things where he realises just how isolated she is, how charles was the only person she really knew and she doesn’t even have him anymore and UGH😭it could be such a pivotal moment for her and max’s relationship

[ablednt]

intelligence is real but you clearly don’t have it. if you can’t stand critical analysis and comprehend anything other than kids shows and ya books bc you’re immature just say that. y’all need to adult literature by poc for once in your lives and shut up about people being “ableist” for thinking it’s weird as hell that y’all make cartoons and ya shit the cornerstones of your personalities. act your age and stop victimizing yourself oh my god. y’all are not oppressed for liking kid shit losers

"Y'all need to [read] adult literature by poc for once in your lives" okay well I literally am doing that? I've talked about doing that here recently so like...what is your goal here bestie?

Anyway reading books by poc isn't going to erase that intelligence as a term/quality was literally made up by white supremasists? Like are you going to address that eugenics (the idea of intellectualism as it is known in the west and how anything that falls flat of academic is inherently worthless and that anyone burdening society's lives do not matter) was first and foremost antiblack? And how academia is steeped in racist gatekeeping just as much as it is ableism (I don't have it on hand right now unfortunately but I've also seen a really good post from I think a Black woman on how modern forms of ableism stem directly from racism and that's why she and many people of color do not separate the two when it comes to their own experiences. Like I cannot properly understand nor speak on that intersection but my point is that there are quite a few people speaking about this kind of stuff and if you're so well read there's no fuckign way you haven't seen ANY of that before now.)

Like I didn't just decide that I hate academia based entirely on the fact that I struggle in class I was fortunate enough to find a lot of discussion around eugenics and around academia's ties to white patriarchy from Black people and especially Black neurodivergent people. Absolute full credit for any of the unpacking I've done on my internalized ableism and the knowledge that I have today goes to the many people of color, specifically Black and Brown people, who have spent their entire lives calling out classism and ableism who will struggle with those things in ways I cannot begin to comprehend.

Like I don't know I really cannot interpret these asks as anything other than some weird liberal-driven performative activism. Ignoring the fact that I very much do interact with adult media made by poc on the regular because that's an incredibly broad fucking category here, the idea that the media that you consume is where activism starts and ends is fuckigng weird and it's especially weird how you repeatedly bring up media discussion when all my posts criticizing academia have been about ableism and (only to the degree that I can witness myself) racism.

Like are you mad that I watch a barbie movie a few times a year or are you mad because I'm an anarchist and you think that my being opposed to academia as an institution somehow threatens your life under the status quo in some way? I would genuinely love to hear what your actual point is here because thus far you've literally just been saying the same shit on loop with no variation and I don't get why you even bother unless you're a sockpuppet fandom account trying to make people who criticize fandom look bad or something idfk.

[whumpzone]

Tomas and Rowe - Part 9

hope you guys enjoy as always! I think it’ll be immediately obvious which part I mean, but I definitely only wrote one scene because it gave me such a pleasing mental image. And I’m definitely gonna have to draw something for it when I have the time :>

Masterpost

taglist: @sola-whumping @just-another-whumper @oceanthesarcasamfox @looptheloup @briars7 @black-polarf @zipadeedooda-drabbles @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @rosesareviolentlyread @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jazz-0307 @kestrelsparverius @whumpsy-daisies @whumpersworld @memoriesneverforget @sky-or-something-idfk @ghostcomit @cupcakes-and-pain @frankieswhump @ihaventwritteninsolong @mybrokenlittletoy @kiretto-laorentze (ask if you want to be tagged/removed! <3)

CW: pet whumpee, violence, descriptions of gore, hospitals

-

It had been several days since the explosive night with Adam. Rowe remembered it all vividly, and for reasons he could not understand he kept returning to the middle of the night, when Master Tomas fell asleep next to him.

Perhaps it was because he had never seen his Master asleep before. It was quite a rarity, as far as Rowe understood, for any Pet to see their owner so vulnerable. Was it another test? Or a display of trust? Master had fallen asleep while holding Rowe, and it felt too odd to be cradled by someone unconscious, so he had gently, gently, laid him on the floor. To even be touching his Master in such a way was unbelievably disobedient, and it made his extremities tingle with nerves. He was terrified that Master would wake up, dazed and disoriented, and beat Rowe for it, but the fear felt strangely- buried? Hazy? It was there, but it didn’t make him lock up like it sometimes did. He still managed to pick himself off the floor and fetch a cushion for Master’s head.

Rowe couldn’t sleep- he had known he wouldn’t sleep ever since Master had threatened to punish him, but he definitely couldn’t risk having a nightmare and waking his owner. Rowe didn’t quite understand what a hangover was, but he knew that it made people want to beat their useless Pets with more severity than usual.

It had taken him several agonising hours before he decided to clean up the mess of bottles. What if Master needs them? He said he would cut me, didn’t he?

But then he would remember that Master Tomas had decided not to punish him, for reasons Rowe didn’t understand. He figured he had better be a good Pet and clean up, and if Master wanted to hurt him in the morning there were plenty of other sharp objects around.

Master hadn’t stirred until around 11am, and when he did Rowe quickly folded onto his knees, calm and obedient, by his Master’s side but not too close, ready to greet him.

. . .

Tomas hardly remembered the night with Adam, and he was okay with that. What he did remember was peeling himself off the living room floor the next morning, stiff all over with a pounding head and a stomach like a choppy sea. He bit back a groan as he turned his neck to look around.

And then he’d seen Rowe, kneeling quietly, his eyes hovering somewhere near Tomas’s face. With his bruised nose, grazed wrists, burnt and battered limbs. Tomas’s hangover suddenly didn’t feel so bad. He gave Rowe a weak smile and Rowe bowed his head to the floor for a few seconds.

‘’Good morning, Master.’’

‘’Morning, pal. Did you give me this cushion?’’

‘’Y-yes, Master,’’ Rowe said, going stiff, like he expected to be berated for it.

‘’Thank you. That was good of you.’’

In the days after, Tomas noticed that Rowe was acting distant, but that hardly surprised him. He had given Rowe quite a scare. If being quiet, meek and staying out of Tomas’s way was Rowe’s way of feeling a bit more secure, then Tomas decided he had to step back and let him.

One morning Tomas was boiling the kettle, snapping his fingers to whatever tune was on the radio.

‘’Master?’’

Tomas turned quickly and- looked down. Rowe was knelt at his feet, having appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

‘’Oh! Everything okay, Rowe?’’

‘’Did you need me for something, Master?’’

Tomas frowned. What did he…

‘’Oh! Because I was snapping my fingers, yes?’’

‘’Yes, M-Master…’’

Tomas felt quite proud of himself for figuring that out. He put one hand on the kitchen counter, fingers splayed, and crouched to rub Rowe’s shoulder.

‘’I was doing it because I liked the song on the radio,’’ Tomas told him gently. ‘’With me, snapping fingers doesn’t mean you have to come, okay?’’

‘’Okay, Master. I understand.’’

‘’Good! That actually reminds me. I have a new rule for you.’’

Rowe’s eyes widened momentarily and before Tomas could decide if it was excitement or apprehension, Rowe caught his misstep and went back to his conditioned blankness. Getting Rowe up off his knees, Tomas continued making tea, making sure to keep everything very casual.

‘’From now on, you aren’t to touch the knives, or any sharp objects, without my express permission and supervision, okay? I know it wasn’t your fault, but that little cut you gave me showed you probably aren’t ready to handle knives yet, and that’s alright. I can do the chopping from now on.’’

‘’Yes, Master,’’ said Rowe quietly. Every time Tomas brought that incident up Rowe looked like he wanted to hide himself away. Tomas gave him a pat on the back of his head and- although he flinched at first- that seemed to help. Turning back to the tea, his face fell as he opened the fridge.

‘’That’s the last of the milk, then,’’ he said, pouring it into the mugs. ‘’I… I really have to go shopping.’’

He’d put it off for as long as he could, but the kitchen was starting to look pretty sad. Rowe gazed up at him with eyes full of worry. Don’t leave me alone. Tomas could have burst with pity, but he steeled himself. This was a chore he couldn’t avoid. The pair drank their tea in silence; Tomas at the table, Rowe dusting the bookshelves in the living room. The radio continued to play.

. . .

Master Tomas left, promising he wouldn’t be long, but it all sounded muffled to Rowe. Everything had gone fuzzy after Master had told him don’t worry, you won’t be alone. I’ll ask if Kasia wouldn’t mind popping over. It all felt like a cruel joke.

Rowe wanted to tell him so badly, to beg and beg and beg that he was telling the truth, but the endless possible outcomes overwhelmed him into silence.

Master wouldn’t care- it was keeping him scared, and submissive, after all.

Master wouldn’t believe him, and ask Kasia instead.

Master wouldn’t believe him, and throw him out.

Master would be horrified that Rowe let another man handle his property without his knowledge, and decide that he didn’t need a deceiving Pet like him.

Master would be pleased, and ask Kasia to help him correct his miserable Pet more.

Master would smack him so hard he hit the floor, and grip his face with all his strength and ask him just who he thought he was, crying about a few beatings, and then he would reconsider whether Rowe really deserved food, and a bed, and he definitely wouldn’t let him speak, in fact, he’d get one of those awful muzzles where the bit cuts into your mouth and he’d strap it onto Rowe’s face until he learnt his place as Master’s property-

And maybe Rowe could handle the hellish meetings with Kasia if it meant he stayed good, and afraid, and in Master’s favour. So when he heard the unmistakable heavy footsteps of Kasia coming up the stairs towards his room, he let himself go limp and pliable. Even when Kasia pushed open the door with a face like thunder. Even when he kept something hidden behind his back as he walked towards Rowe.

-

‘’Oh- oh, god, it hurts! Please, please!’’ Rowe cried, his face shiny with sweat. His hair was sticking to his forehead, and Kasia grabbed a fistful of it to pull Rowe’s face towards his. He stared hard into the whites of Rowe’s eyes.

‘’Bad Pets get muzzled, you know,’’ he warned, and Rowe forced himself to be guttural, to only moan and gasp in pain. He was allowed that, at least. His hands twitched above him, tightly bound to one of the end bedposts. His chest trembled with sobs. But he didn’t speak, and Kasia grunted, returning to his work.

Rowe’s legs were a mess. His skin was barely visible under the blood that rolled down in drops and soaked into the cream carpet. The hammer came down with a swish and a sickening thud. More blood was flecked onto Kasia’s shirt with every circle he battered into Rowe’s flesh.

Each time Kasia bludgeoned him, Rowe would spasm in pain, the thrashing of his legs doing nothing but making the injuries worse. He was scared to look down- his legs, his pretty legs that he needed to kneel on and attend his Master with, they were ruined. What- what was the point of this? This wouldn’t make him better. Rowe’s head slumped back against his shoulder blades, pulling his bruised neck taut. He’s just doing this for fun, isn’t he.

All thoughts were pushed from his head with the next awful, wet crunch of the hammer. Thud thud THUD, faster and faster, and this wasn’t methodical, this wasn’t like his training, this was like when Rowe had smashed his old master’s favourite bowl and he was beaten until old master had spent all of his rage and hatred and made Rowe scream.

Sure enough, Rowe was screaming now, and he was good at just screaming, he knew when begging would get him somewhere and when it wouldn’t. He was beyond proving his obedience. Kasia just wanted a living doll to torment. Rowe risked a glance at his legs- and then his screams were broken up with heavy, wet cries.

When the pain finally let him rest, finally pulled him into a thick sleep, Rowe was so, so grateful. As the gory scene blurred before him, all he could think about was the feeling of the bedframe against his back. I’m with my old master. He’s letting me sleep at the foot of his bed. I must have been good. I’m so happy…

. . .

Tomas clenched his teeth as he hurried up the street to his door.

[Work called, I had to run. Left him in his room, he seemed fine.]

[What???]

Fuck’s sake, why now, why now? He had needed Kasia to keep an eye on him, he needed him! The house was silent as he pushed open the door and set the bags down heavily, running up the stairs.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw when he opened Rowe’s bedroom door. Tomas gasped, inhaling sharply, and then he couldn’t breathe. Rowe was lying on the floor, passed out, his wrists tucked together under his chin and his shirt thrown carelessly in a corner. Oh fuck. Everything below the knees was a mess of gore, there was blood everywhere, holy fucking shit, and a god damn hammer lying nearby. His calves were so battered Tomas could hardly look.

‘’Oh god, oh god, oh god! Rowe, Rowe, oh Rowe, my Rowe, oh god, oh fuck, oh fuck fuck fuck!’’ Tomas panicked. Rowe didn’t stir and Tomas thought he might pass out as well. ‘’What the fuck did you do?’’ he cried, ‘’Rowe, wake up, what the fuck did you do?’’

Tomas’s knees buckled and he collapsed in the doorway, fumbling for his phone with trembling fingers. After a few seconds he managed to steady himself enough to dial 999.

‘’Ambulance service, is that patient breathing?’’

‘’Ah,’’ Tomas choked out. He was barely breathing himself. He forced himself to crawl over to Rowe and check his pulse.

‘’Hello?’’ drawled the operator.

‘’Yes, yes, he’s breathing, fuck-‘’

‘’Describe exactly what’s happened for me.’’

‘’I just got home, and I, he, oh my god!’’ Tomas started to cry desperately. ‘’I just got home and he’s upstairs and there’s blood everywhere-‘’ his voice cracked ‘’-and his legs are all smashed up wi-with a hammer and please, you have to help, you have to send someone!’’

‘’Stay calm for me sir, who is it that’s had this injury? How old are they?’’

‘’It’s- my Pet, I don’t know his age.’’

‘’A Pet?’’ the operator asked, in the same collected, monotone voice. ‘’Sir, we can’t waste ambulances on Pets, you’ll have to bring them in yourself if you want medical help, okay?’’

‘’What- but wait, it’s bad-‘’

Click. They’d hung up.

‘’Fuck!’’ he breathed, his phone almost slipping from his hand. ‘’Fuck, Rowe, Rowe, wake up! Wake up!’’

He didn’t mean to hurt him, but he needed Rowe to respond, and before he knew it he had smacked him across the cheek. It only made Tomas cry harder, but sure enough, Rowe stirred.

‘’Rowe,’’ Tomas gasped. ‘’Rowe, Rowe, oh my god, what the fuck did you do?’’

He didn’t answer, but he did moan in pain. Tomas lifted Rowe’s face up, but his eyes were rolling back into his skull. He had lost so much blood.

‘’I’ve got to get you to the hospital.’’

Rowe’s mouth opened a tiny amount, and Tomas bent close.

‘’C…c-collar…’’

‘’I… fuck, yes, Pets have to wear a collar outside, okay, okay, I’ll get one. It’s gonna be okay, Rowe.’’

Luckily, Tomas had never got around to throwing out the collar he’d bought for the animal he’d been expecting. It was made for a dog, and slipped around Rowe’s tiny neck just fine.

‘’Can you breathe?’’

Rowe twitched his head in a nod, but his eyes had fluttered closed once more. Tomas stumbled into the bathroom and took two towels. As he lifted Rowe’s left leg to slip one underneath, he screamed in agony. Tomas cringed, trying to stop crying.

‘’Please, please Master,’’ Rowe whimpered, and Tomas just wished he was dreaming. This was too horrifying, he must be dreaming, surely.

‘’I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’’ he sobbed, pressing a hand now wet with Rowe’s blood into his hair, doing his best to stroke him with his trembling fingers. ‘’They’ll stop the pain soon, I promise.’’

As soon as he’d slipped Rowe’s legs into the towels, Tomas wiped his eyes on his sleeve, hauled his broken Pet into his arms and carried him downstairs.

‘’I don’t- have a car,’’ Tomas explained as he gripped Rowe with one arm to lock the door behind him, ‘’but you’re so small, I think you’ll just about fit. I’m sorry, this is so fucking stupid, I’m sorry. But I’ll get us there quickly. Quicker than a taxi.’’

Rowe didn’t struggle as Tomas lowered him into the basket attached to the front of his bicycle. His wrapped legs dangled freely, and his arms wrapped around his waist like a hug. Tomas slung himself into the saddle and pushed off down the hill.

-

‘’Do you- treat Pets, here?’’ Tomas asked the receptionist timidly. Looking around, he didn’t see any other Pets. The receptionist barely even glanced up, even though Rowe was gently dripping blood onto the linoleum floor.

‘’Try the other reception. Down the hall, you’ll see the sign. We have a separate ward for Pets.’’

The second receptionist was far more friendly, scarily so.

‘’Hello there, sir, what’s the issue?’’

‘’My Pet- his legs are definitely broken, and he’s lost a lot of blood. He’s unresponsive.’’

‘’Okay,’’ she said as she typed something into her computer. ‘’And what’s your name, please, sir?’’

‘’Tomas Grzegorzewski.’’

A few more questions and then Rowe was lowered into a worn wheelchair and taken away. Tomas watched him leave with a heavy weight in his stomach.

He couldn’t sit still, he still had Rowe’s blood on his sleeves and if he had to just sit and think about what had happened he knew he was going to have a breakdown right there. So instead he marched outside, charmed a cigarette off one of the smokers outside, and called Kasia.

‘’You all good, mate?’’ Kasia said coolly.

‘’I am not fucking-! I am not all good,’’ Tomas hissed, remembering to keep his voice down.

‘’Did something happen? Look, I’m sorry I had to leave.’’

‘’He fucking- oh my god, I might throw up if I even describe it. He took a hammer to his own fucking legs.’’

‘’Oh, shit,’’ Kasia said. Nothing ever seemed to phase him. Tomas supposed it was his line of work. ‘’Why’d he do that?’’

‘’Kas, I asked you over for a reason! I don’t know, he goes off the rails every time he’s left alone,’’ Tomas snapped, trying and failing to keep his voice level.

‘’I’m sorry, okay? Don’t have a go at me, mate. Work called, I was doing you a favour and you know I have a busy schedule.’’

Tomas sighed. Kasia was right. ‘’Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I just… I got really scared when I came home. I’m sorry, I know it’s not your problem.’’

‘’Yeah, well, I know you’re upset, but I couldn’t have known he was gonna pull some crazy shit like that.’’

‘’Yeah. I’m at the hospital right now,’’ Tomas said, dragging on his cig. ‘’I’m gonna go back in, it’s fucking freezing. See you later?’’

‘’Yeah, let me know if he’s alright.’’

Back in the waiting room, Tomas put his head in his hands, raking his fingers through his curls. He couldn’t stop seeing Rowe’s legs. The way he’d just been lying there, letting himself bleed out. And where had he even found that hammer? He must have really wanted it. And Tomas hadn’t been there to stop him.

A woman called his name uncertainly, and Tomas stood up. He suddenly felt desperately tired. She gave him a delicate smile and he followed her into the belly of the hospital.

[green-eyed-whumpster]

My OC Universe: Rowan 131

MY GLORIUS RETURN!!!!!!!!!!! I really have no other excuse except laziness I'm so sorry but here we are! Rowan is back, and he will remain back, even if daily updates are a bit out of my league. ANyway, please enjoy:

Chapter Summary: Once Marie and Alexander leave, Cordelia and Peter try to soothe Rowan, and he realises that Olivia isn't well. (Taggies: @much-ado-about-whumping, @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @abitefullofwhump, @sky-or-something-idfk, @tears-and-lilies, @whump-me-all-night-long)

Trigger Warnings: Conditioned whumpee, reference to previous abuse

“Here, Rowan,” Cordelia said softly, helping him up to his feet. “Let’s go inside, I’ll make you a cup of tea,” He nodded gently and let her lead him towards the veranda again as Peter followed them.

“You never told me how beautiful the Queen was, Cordelia,” He commented as he looked over the purse she had tossed to him.

“Was the Queen beautiful, or was her purse?” Cordelia joked as she glanced over.

“Her majesty is really pretty,” Rowan reasoned. “But she was always really scary, so I was too afraid to look at her.”

“I’ll be sure to tell her that you’re both smitten,” Cordelia smirked and Rowan’s head jerked up.

“No! I didn’t mean – I…” He trailed off and looked down sheepishly as Cordelia began chuckling.

“I’m only teasing, Rowan,” She said, rubbing his back soothingly as she pushed him into his seat.

“I didn’t realise she cared so much,” He murmured, looking to his hands as Cordelia and Peter moved around him, preparing breakfast. “At the castle she always treated me so coldly. I thought she would kill me when she arrived. I thought it would be you coming,” He glanced up to Cordelia, who averted his gaze sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, Rowan,” She began. “I received your message, but I was so surprised I didn’t know what to do, when I got into contact with Marie, she was frantic because of course, William had gone missing. I told her without thinking and she leapt right into action, preparing a party to come and get him. It was only after she had left that I remembered how you both parted, and I realised how you would react when she and Alexander arrived without me.”

“It’s fine,” Rowan murmured in reply and closed his eyes for a moment, thinking.

“Marie never truly hated you, Rowan,” She said, coming to stand beside him. “She hated William. Your proximity to him caused some of her anger to be misplaced, but she never had anything personally against you. She actually has quite a lot of respect for you, to be able to endure William’s cruelty for so long.”

Respect?

For me?

The Queen respects the disgraced consort of the previous King?

“That doesn’t make any sense.” He said certainly and Cordelia smiled slightly.

“It does if you think about it. Marie entered your life not long after William did, but by then you had already adapted to survive as William’s toy so believably that she didn’t realise your hatred for him until the dungeons. That you were able to pretend so effectively for so long purely to survive impressed her. She had never been good at hiding her disdain for William, and so they fought frequently. She never understood how you could stand being so close to him without having genuine fondness for him, since almost whenever they spoke, someone ended up being threatened.” Cordelia sat down and shifted in order to face him as he stared at his hands in silence. “To find out that the person you were convinced was smitten with the King actually detested him, just as you do, it’s quite incredible.” Peter pushed a cup of tea into Rowan’s hands and sat down himself across from Cordelia.

And if I hadn’t been such a good actor, Oliver wouldn’t have died.

“I miss Oliver,” He murmured, fingers wrapping tightly around the hot ceramic, the pain seeping into his skin pulling him back to the cottage.

“I-I don’t mean to say that I don’t like you!” He exclaimed quickly, careful to reassure Peter. “I just… I just wish –“

“You don’t need to apologise, Rowan,” Peter interrupted, smiling at him sadly. “I know how you feel.”

“I-I hope Matilda is all right is all,” Rowan murmured, looking down again. “I hope she forgives me, I’ve done so much to her already,”

“You haven’t done anything to her.” Cordelia replied firmly. “You tried to be kind to her, and William refused to allow you to have any friends to sympathise with. Oliver made a choice to protect you over himself, a vow he made to William first. Matilda should have been prepared for an eventuality that her husband die in a military cross-fire.”

“How do you know?” Rowan asked. “How did you know about Matilda?”

“She isn’t alone,” Cordelia answered, softer than before. “Alexander has been spending a fair amount of time with her since realising her relationship with Oliver. She eagerly told him about everything William put her through. I don’t believe she blames you.” Peter looked back and forth between the pair and fidgeted uncomfortably. He hated being so ignorant. He wanted to help Rowan, but he didn’t know anything.

“Well, I blame myself.”

“Goodness gracious,” Cordelia sighed softly. “Peter,” He looked up quickly and found her eyes weary. “Matilda was one of the first servants that interacted with Rowan, she was kind to him and helped him when the others were cruel to him. One day William gave him a bunch of wildflowers, and when Rowan learned that the servant who was ordered to pick them had gone out before dawn and was suffering from the cold, he gave one of his bracelets to the servant for her. But William had her whipped, claiming she had stolen it. Rowan didn’t find out until much later that it was Matilda, and in the meantime Oliver had begun watching over Rowan. They were married. So now, Rowan blames himself, not only for Matilda being punished years ago, but for her husband’s execution.” Peter knew why she told him, and was immensely grateful that now he knew what he would be soothing.

“That isn’t your fault, Rowan,” He said gently, turning to look at the boy. “You did something kind, it wasn’t your fault that it didn’t end well, William was the one who decided to hurt her. And if Oliver was a soldier, then his death was something that they both would have come to terms with. Soldiers know the risks of their profession, and their partners are taught of it, too.” He could feel Rowan beginning to formulate an argument and shook his head. “I’m not saying that it’s all right, but it isn’t as awful in reality as it is to you. It’s horrible that your friend died, but he knew that it was a possibility and still chose to protect you. He knew the consequences of his actions and made the decision anyway. He didn’t die without knowing the risk of protecting you. And Matilda should understand also.”

“All right,” Rowan murmured.

He still didn’t feel any better. Even if Oliver did know what he was doing, Rowan would have given anything to recognise Marie’s warning and take the opportunity to spare them both. He didn’t deserve to feel all right about this. But no matter what he said, he knew Peter and Cordelia would protect him. “I want to go check on Olivia.” He said quickly, standing up and moving away from the table before either of them could say anything more.

“Do you think we upset him?” Peter asked softly as the door shut and Cordelia shrugged gently.

“Look, I don’t know how long I could continue being so gentle. Maybe it’s worth him getting upset.” She said.

“I don’t think that’s appropriate.” Peter frowned just as the door flew open again.

“Peter!” Rowan exclaimed. “Peter, I think Olivia isn’t well!”

[ohkraken-a]

witcher 3 npc verse masterpost

peredur :

     so a sidequest involving peredur would be like geralt hears about some Shit Going Down in novigrad, humans talking about some man who has been slicing ears to look like elf ears, so then upon accepting trying to find this man, geralt ends up coming across peredur just as he’s scaring off some folks who were threatening some elves ( which is also when geralt realizes this man is also an elf who simply hides his ears beneath his hair ). discussion comes up to geralt having the option to tell peredur to quit, ( or kill him then, ) to which peredur explains so long as humans continue to torture the elves and non-humans of novigrad while he’s there, there’s no way he’s stopping; either the humans desist, or he continues.

          there are other instances of geralt running into peredur while there ( provided he didn’t kill him in the first meeting ), with in the final instance geralt has the option to stop peredur from straight up killing a man; if geralt intervenes, it’s a fight to the death. if he lets peredur continue, the man dies and peredur thanks geralt. geralt does warn peredur to leave novigrad, though, and peredur agrees; he says it’s high-time he meet up with a kraken anyways, before he finally leaves the city.

arianrhod :

to meet arian in witcher 3, you MUST have completed peredur’s sidequest, regardless of if you let him live or killed him– based on your decisions during his sidequest, your interactions with arianrhod will greatly differ.

          arianrhod’s sidequest takes place on skellige; geralt hears tell of another witcher being spotted upon the isles, only to learn that the witcher in question is one hailing from the school of the kraken in kovir. geralt has the option to ask them some questions about the school / learn the fate of the school which has all but faded into obscurity; the school, when advanced upon by soldiers, was instead swept into the sea by its very namesake, a large kraken.

     arianrhod tells geralt about how they are supposed to be meeting their travelling companion; it is then geralt learns the companion in question is an elf named peredur who had been doing some business in novigrad: depending on the outcome of peredur’s sidequest, geralt will either explain that he’s dead ( resulting in another to-the-death combat; their fight isn’t so simple as a swordfight or even signs, as they use their non-human background to disappear into the nearby sea, making them more akin to fighting a siren or drowner underwater, as well as using the signature silver trident of the kraken school, ) or that he’s still alive, and had mentioned intending to meet up with them.

          their sidequest itself, upon accepting ( provided peredur was left alive ) involves working with them on a contract of what the person believes to be a kraken; arian isn’t so sure, but has agreed to take it. while finding clues and fighting the occasional bandit group, geralt and arian discover the truth of the rumor: it’s not a kraken, but instead a large, injured pliozaur that had been attacked by whalers; a group of vodyanoy had been trying to take care of it while it recovered, but in its pain, it had been attacking other ships which led to the rumors of it being a kraken. ( arian serves as translator during this conversation, as they are fluent in vodyan. )

     this mission can then go a few different ways; as the vodyanoy had been doing nothing to stop the pliozaur from destroying ships, any attempt to force or threaten them to do something such as leave the pliozaur or stop attacking ships results in combat- arian will side with the vodyanoy. this results in the death of the vodyanoy and arianrhod. the ‘good’ ending results in a reached agreement; the vodyanoy and the pliozaur will go out further to sea to avoid humans and ships, only so long as arian and geralt agree to go after the whalers themselves, as they are hunting for sport as opposed to survival. this starts the final leg of the sidequest, where arian and geralt work together to track down the whaling poachers. ( once this portion has been reached, there are no longer options that will lead to killing arian. )

          upon coming across the whalers, it results in combat leading to the death of the crew; at the end, arian thanks geralt for his help, making some crack about him not being so bad for a wolf. at this time, geralt has the option to recruit arian to go to kaer morhen; they agree, and says they’ll bring peredur with them.

math :

     math gets mentioned early on in the game, by vesemir; he makes a comment about an “old squid” still kicking around up north, one of the last of the old witchers– before they part ways, he lets geralt know that if he happens to cross paths with a crotchety kraken, to see if he might visit kaer morhen sometime.

          math can be found in velen ( don’t ask where specifically idfk, just. velen. ) in one of the smaller fishing villages; he explains he’s been in the area trying to help thin out the local drowner & mucknixer issue that had cropped up recently, stating they’d gotten more violent than usual. math doubles as an herbalist / alchemist, and has a number of rare ingredients in his shop. geralt can offer to help out with the problem, a mission which just ends in a fight with a large number of mucknixers, drowners, and a higher level water hag.

     upon completing the mission, returning to math will see geralt get paid a decent amount for his assistance, and math explains he should start heading back to kovir with the matter settled. this is when geralt can mention vesemir’s invite ( or the closest thing one can get to an invite from vesemir ) up to kaer morhen; math expresses mock shock over the old dog being alive, but says he’ll consider it. after parting ways, math does indeed go to kaer morhen and ends up assisting during the battle of kaer morhen.

                    note: depending on geralt’s choices with peredur’s and arian’s missions, ( if he did them, ) any interaction he has with math once in kaer morhen will change. if arian and peredur have been recruited, math can usually be seen speaking with them in the background during preparations. if arian ( and therefore peredur ) were not recruited / their missions not completed, math will comment on their absence and how he knows a kraken and their companion who could have been of help. however, if peredur ( and therefore arian ) were killed, math will refuse to talk to geralt completely. he remains in kaer morhen out of his old friendship with vesemir and that is it; once vesemir dies and the battle is complete, math openly threatens geralt with death if he ever sees him again, before leaving, presumably to return to the ruins of kaer ceudwll in kovir.

[thorne93]

Curious Conundrum (Part 9)

Prompt: You’re John Watson’s sister. One day you decide to visit your brother for lunch, only to meet the infamous Mr. Holmes…

Word Count: 1893

Warnings: language, flirtation, sexual innuendos (maybe? idfk), murder/crime/case related stuff, angst, jealousy…

Notes: Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong Not only did she beta, but I literally couldn’t have written half these scenes without her help. She contributed majorly, even wrote some parts of scenes. I am forever in her debt.

Also, this starts AFTER Season 2, episode 1. I don’t follow all the episodes, but it does follow the timeline and hit some major events : )

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After another week of your sulking, and Sherlock’s... whatever it was he was doing… John wanted to make the two of you feel better. He asked you to meet him at a new restaurant in town, a little italian cafe, in fact.

“I really don’t want to go out,” you insisted. “I look like utter crap, I feel like utter crap.”

“All the more reason to go out.”

“But why can’t I just stay home with my wine and ice cream?”

“Because you need to shake this off. It’s not like you to let something ruffle your feathers.”

“Well this time is different.”

“I know that, which is why you need to get back out and start getting your life back to normal.”

You groaned, not fully giving your brother a response.

“Come on. I’m buying, you’ve got to eat anyway, right?”

You mumbled, “I suppose you’re right.”

“Great. Meet me there tomorrow around seven, sound good?”

“Yeah. Yeah...Thanks. I’ll see you then.”

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

Deciding to not look like a slob for your first public outing since the rejection, you got a good, long shower in, extra time and care went into everything. If you were really going start fresh, you wanted to do it properly. By the time you were finished, you were smelling divine and feeling polished. Next, was your hair. You picked a stylish updo and a semi-formal outfit for the event. Moving on to the final touches - you splashed on some simple, quick makeup.

Even if it was just your brother, maybe, by some stroke of luck or miracle, another man would look your way tonight, giving you a well needed distraction.

At 6:50 you arrived and told the host that you were waiting for your brother. In the meantime you passed the time by reading the news, somewhat hopeful that you’d see his name in the headline, somewhere. “God, how pathetic was that?” you thought with a sigh...

“I don’t know why you’re insisting on going here. There’s a perfectly good restaurant closer to home, and I can get us free food. Why are we--” his voice stopped.

That voice. The voice that haunted your dreams.

Sherlock?

Frowning, you looked up to see John and Sherlock making their way to you, but Sherlock had stopped dead in his tracks, staring at you as if you were...as if you were a ghost. You stood promptly from the table, ready to flee the scene.

“Bloody hell. What is she doing here?” he demanded, turning to John.

“Yes, why is he here?” you echoed, the same anger in your voice.

John gave you his signature “bear with me” face, pressing his lips into a firm line. “You two clearly care about each other. Pretending you don’t is just mad. Now you’re acting like children. For God’s sakes, you are lucky enough to have something with someone, don’t piss it away on your egos.”

You and Sherlock eyed each other like students getting scolded. Slowly, resolve started to seep into your eyes and his, a slight softening of the features, his shoulders visibly relaxed as he took you in.

“I already told you, and her, that I want nothing to do with her,” Sherlock reminded through clenched teeth.

“You also told me the real reason why you did that,” he retorted, stressing his point. “Now, just sit down and talk. All I’m asking is you two try a date. One date. If you can’t stand it, then you can do whatever you want. But I can’t keep watching you two spiral into this... black hole. I won’t do it anymore.”

“I could just leave when you’re gone,” Sherlock noted with a raised eyebrow.

“Then good luck solving cases without an extra set of eyes,” John threatened lightly with a smile.

“You’re serious aren’t you?” you asked, astounded.

“Deadly.” He flashed a smile and led the way back to the table. “Now, Sherlock, if you please,” he said, pulling out a chair and gesturing to it.

At first, your date appeared ready to fight this, be stubborn to the bone as he always was... but something in him wavered and he acquiesced. With a roll of his eyes, he sighed and walked over.

“Oh, fine,” he breathed.

“Great. Tell me how the date goes,” John requested before patting Sherlock’s shoulder supportively. Then he was gone, leaving you two alone. Alone time with him was something that you had always wanted, but now it felt like a curse.

For a long time, neither of you spoke. All either of you did was nervously play with the silverware. What should you say? What could you say? What did you want to say?

“So... lovely new lounge here, wouldn’t you say?” he questioned, his eyes traveling everywhere but your face.

Your brows knitted together as you stared at him in total shock. “Really? That’s what you want to talk about? The restaurant?”

A flash of anger crossed his eyes and tone as he asked, “Well... what do you propose we talk about?”

“How about the fact that you were utterly hateful to me the last time we spoke?” you challenged, a bit of bite in your voice.

He pondered a moment then, as if he had a revelation, his eyes widened. “Oh, that…”

“Yes that, and don’t pretend you don’t know exactly what I was referring to. I understand the rejection, but you didn’t have to insult me.”

His face twisted into thought, he seemed to take a deep breath. You were hoping he’d explain why he did what he did. “If you don’t want to do this I’d understand,” Sherlock finally said, surprising you. “We could just eat, and lie to John, telling him we gave it our best shot.”

“I don’t lie.”

“Then we could not lie and say we didn’t want to do this.”

“But I do,” you argued.

He raised a curious brow and looked away from you, obviously trying not to think about the situation at hand and people watch instead.

“Why don’t you?” you asked, slightly afraid of the answer, but more fearful of never knowing.

Sherlock’s eyes slid back to your face, but he didn’t speak. A look clouded his expression almost as if he were trying to decipher something about you.

Finally, you realized you needed to tell him. “Sherlock, I know you’re married to your work. I understand that. So am I, for the most part. But when I’m with you... Being around you makes me incredibly happy, and not like a friend, not like a best friend. I am attracted to you, I like you, I like your humor, your energy, your mind. I love everything about you. If you’re afraid I’d interfere with your work, that’s not the case. I’d never do that.”

“You think I’m worried about my work?” he asked as if it were the most absurd thing he’d heard this month. “I’m not worried about my work, Y/N. I’m worried about you. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to know me, let alone be romantically involved with me?”

At his words, a small smile pulled at the corner of your lips. “You... you were worried about me. You didn’t mean any of those things you said at the flat that day, did you? It was just to get me to get away from you.” You leaned back in the chair, crossing your arms, impressed. “I’m ever amazed at your ability to impress me.”

“Much like your brother,” he muttered nonchalantly, the comment making you smile fondly.

“If that’s all it is--”

“If that’s all it is? You realize dating me would be dangerous?”

“Quite.”

“And that I wouldn’t give you the sort of romance John would give a girl, correct? I wouldn’t give you flowers, vacations, cards, romance. I don’t do that. I’m not wired that way.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” you informed and he eyed you peculiarly. “Sherlock... I’m--I don’t want to be with you for any other reason than to be with you. I don’t want you to change, do things you wouldn’t normally do, go out of your way to be especially romantic. I didn’t fall in love with you for the things you might do for me. I fell in love with you because you’re you. I love all of you. All the crass, rude, brash, sarcastic, smart-assed, intelligent, handsome you… So if we never take an anniversary trip and we don’t go shopping for dishes together, it won’t matter to me. I’m in love with you and I just want to be with you, because it makes me happy to be around you. That’s all I want...That's all I’ll ever want.”

You reached across the table and took his hand. “Promise.”

His face turned pensive for a short moment, mulling over your words. “You really are determined to see this through, aren’t you?”

“I think you are too,” you softly accused through thick lashes. “Otherwise you would’ve left.”

“Touche,” he muttered, barely audible.

“So... what do you say? Wanna give this crazy idea a try?”

“And you’re okay... knowing everything you know about me? The lack of romance, the danger, the completely unorthodox relationship we’ll have? The fact that I might not be able to even touch you physically?”

You nodded, a grin on your face. “I’m sure.”

“Then... I can’t stop you, can I?”

“You already tried that, remember?” You winked at him and he smiled.

Ah, there it was. That stunning smile. That’s why you wanted this.

“And there’s the reason why I want to be with you. I want to be the one to do that to you,” you noted as you pointed at him and he realized what you were referring to.

“That wouldn’t be... so bad,” he remarked, his eyebrows arching up quickly then falling. His face composed into seriousness as he picked up a menu and said, “Well if we’re going to do this. Let’s do it properly. Shall we have dinner?”

“Let’s.”

With that, you picked up your menu, the two of you stealing silent glances at each other, hidden smiles painting your faces. Once you ordered, the two of you did talk about the restaurant. Sherlock didn’t like the size of it or the layout, but he did enjoy the tea. You liked that it had a patio to go out to. Ultimately though, it sounded as if Sherlock would much rather not return here.

The two of you caught up a little on work, him filling you in on cases, getting animated about them. A lot of people thought Sherlock solved cases and went on, but you knew his ego was too big for that. You allowed him to go on and on about his findings, his deductions. He loved to boast and prove he was the smartest one, and you loved to watch his thinking unfold.

The rest of the evening was spent in laughter, smiles, and mesmerization. Both of you completely in awe at the fact that you got this chance again. Sure, Sherlock thought it was right to send you away a month ago... But everyday it got worse, it got harder for him. He was ready to crumble nearly every day. If he was honest with himself, this couldn’t have come at a more perfect time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[darrien111-blog]

Free verse 3/12/18

I will never forget what you did to me

I will never shake the feeling of a time where life was so miserable

I hated that I had to act like someone I wasn’t

On top of the list being dealt two absent parents, who have neglected me emotionally and were always dealing with their own issues. Mom being a clingy anxious mess because of her mother, yet would cut you where she knows it will hurt. Dad having a work related injury where he smashed his wrist with a sledgehammer, causing permanent nerve damage in his left arm, causing him constant chronic pain in the entire left arm up to his neck. Before the injury he was a very angry and mean person. Over worked, dealing with a femme son who he was in total denial about, and a wife that would spend all of their money on online poker and things for me. My dad told me when I was really young, screamed in my face that I was the reason their marriage is failing.

I had a reoccurring dream as a kid where I was sitting in a field of beautiful flowers and everything is so peaceful, then the view of the dream pans out and shows a field a little bit away from the one I was in, and it shows a big war tank, and my dad pops out of the top of the tank and fires a bomb that hits my field and blows up the world.

I also went to 10 schools from kindergarten to senior year. The first 5 years being private catholic school, and the rest public school. I didn’t fit in anywhere. I made “friends” but no one really understood me because I couldn’t let my true self out. I kind of acted out a lot and changed schools either because of kids being awful, or because the administration didn’t understand or accept me. I was a social butterfly as they always seem to say. They say one transition to a different school can be very traumatizing to a child, and I did it 10 times. Nothing has ever been stable.

Lately I’ve been reliving the memory I have from my childhood where I made a female character on World of Warcraft after my dad told me I could only make boy characters because people “type sexual stuff to girl characters.” Which he never played a girl so idfk how he knew that lol, who you messaging dad? He comes storming into my room and starting SCREAMING and I stand up from the chair and less than a second later he grabs the computer chair and picks it up and smashes it on the ground very very violently and screams “WHAT ARE YOU A FUCKING FAGGOT?!” I just stood there and cried. It’s all I could ever do. I was in the 3rd grade when this happened. Then in high school my dad violently grabbed me, hit my face off of a washing machine, then into a wall and then onto the floor. I had marks on my back where he grabbed me. I talked to my headmaster because I was so scared, and a DYS officer came to my house. My parents told them I had a disciplinary problem. No. I had a problem with trying my hardest in my sport winning 8 national championships with my team in the one season I got to spend with them, getting good grades, and cleaning the house every week like a good Cinderella, I had an angry bigoted white republican dad who told me I was disgusting when I told him I was gay, and a mother who would take out her anger on me and push me to the edge mentally so I would react, and then my dad would take care of it. Then when my dad got hurt he went through his midlife crisis, grew out his hair, got his ear pierced, was addicted to pain killers, and then told my best friend that he had sexual feelings for her, and then banning her from my house thus ending the best friendship. He eventually quit the pain killers and switched to growing and smoking pot, which I wasn’t mad about. I at least deserved that.

So dealing with the personality disorder my parents helped me develop was great, but what was even better was the discover of the personality disorder

A tinder swipe changed my life. I met the most beautiful man. He was the guy I dreamed of as a kid. I knew he would be a Taurus with green eyes and dark hair. He was my everything the first time I saw him and our love exploded. We showed each other so much of ourselves (reflectively), and it scared us both and we ended up in a cycle of hurt. But this tinder swipe turned into a fiancè who only “proposed” to me so I wouldn’t leave him. We got in a fight and the law got involved, and he convinced me to stay in contact with him when it was against my bail conditions. Then whenever I would try to break contact because I was an anxious mess, he would show up at my work, he would threaten to call the police and tell them I’ve been contacting him so I would be arrested. Told me he hopes I get raped in prison and get HIV and die. Watching me through my windows and making fake profiles to spy on me, and carry to catch me cheating on him. That I was and am just a hole to fill. I know that was him putting his demons on me. I loved him regardless. I loved him with all of my heart. I hurt him by sleeping with other people. He emotionally withdrew from me and we were separated a lot. I just wanted to find a connection, yet I was haunted by his. I loved him so much regardless of the shit he did to me. But I’ve learned to love the people who hurt me from the get go. I didn’t know anything else. He was in pain too. I know that. It’s been over a year since he left me, and I still cry to this day. I cried this morning over him. A GOOD ass cry.

I had so many of my own demons, I didn’t need his, or my parents, or all of the people that were expecting efficient adult live living from me, when I was broken and running on empty. I had no say in who or what I was. Now that my parents problems are gone and he is no where to be found, I’m left scarred and abandoned. Out to fend for myself when I’m still trying to heal from a life of hardship thus far. But I know my destiny is far greater insured by these experiences, and greatness will follow. Nothing worth having was easy to achieve.

[green-eyed-whumpster]

My OC Universe: Rowan 56

Chapter 56 Summary: Jordan finds her inspiration and manages to write a much longer chapter!! Yay! Rowan and William suffer through their first night as prisoners and are visited the next morning by their captors. (Taggalicious: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @much-ado-about-whumping, @abitefullofeverything, @whump-me-all-night-long and @sky-or-something-idfk)

Trigger Warnings: Verbal abuse, physical abuse, threatening death, reference to abortion (Ooh, what a strange warning! I wonder what the context is??? [sorry I’m in a weird mood today] )

It wasn’t surprising that William was gagged. It was surprising it didn’t happen sooner. But it wasn’t surprising that it happened.

He screamed like a banshee as they shoved the rag in his mouth. He tried to kick at them, but one stood on his legs as the other forced his head back and tied a cloth around his head, trapping the lump in his mouth. “Will he not choke?” Rowan asked as they released him, and they turned to look at him, almost as though they had forgotten that he was there. “Not if he stays quiet.” One answered, and they left, not bothering to lock the door behind them, Rowan and the King weren’t going anywhere.

At least with William silenced, Rowan could try and sleep. Gods knew he had tried to sleep in far worse places. Here he was dry, and as long as there were no surprise visits from malicious soldiers, he would be safe. Every once in a while, there would be a lurch, or a scramble of William fighting against the chains, but it never ended up going anywhere, and there would be an infuriated grunt, and then another period of silence.

Rowan was actually surprised to realise that he had fallen asleep, after being woken by the sound of footsteps and a scraping of metal along the stone. His eyes darted about the room, blinking in a hurried effort to clear them before the attacker grew closer, and accidentally locked them with William’s. He was disturbed to find them red and bleary, so even in their current scowl Rowan could tell he had been crying. It’s not his fault. He’s clueless. This is probably the first time he’s ever been under threat. The first time he wasn’t in power. He isn’t as used to it as I am. “It will be all right,” He whispered, nodding softly to the man. He was rewarded for his effort with a muffled hiss and the man lunging towards him, stopped by the rattle of chains. “I know I’ve called you a savage, but you really are coming into the role.” Rowan turned as Marie entered, followed by a smirking Alexander, and finally, Cordelia. “Take the gag off him.” She smirked. “I want to hear him scream.” “I’ll do it.” Cordelia said sternly, keeping her head angled deliberately away from Rowan. He desperately tried to catch her eye as she walked forward and pulled the cloth around William’s mouth down, forcing her thumb into his mouth to prevent him trying to bite down on her as she pulled out the wad of rags. 

He settled his mouth for a moment before spitting at Cordelia. Rowan could see her shoulders slump slightly as if she were rolling her eyes and without hesitating she backhanded William, stepping back to Marie as the man gasped in shock, turning his enraged glare to her. “How-how dare you strike me?” He roared, restrained hands fighting even harder. “I am the King!” Rowan could see the tears of shame welling in his eyes as his cheeks reddened and felt a deep sense of discomfort. “Oh, haven’t you heard?” Marie asked in mock-innocence. “The King went out hunting yesterday and went missing, soon after his consort and their personal bodyguard disappeared. The soldiers are out, scouring the lands for wherever our beloved monarch is, and presumably, where his murderers are hiding.” Rowan’s face fell as he realised the implication and was reminded of what happened to Oliver. “But-but I’m right here! What about Oliver? What happened to him?” He exclaimed, tears of his own springing to his eyes. “Hmm, it’s very rare that you speak out of turn.” Marie sighed and glanced at Cordelia, giving her a silent order. “Such a pathetic creature,” She said finally, voice unwavering. “The only two people he interacts with are his guard and his master. I don’t blame him for asking.” Marie looked at Rowan and sighed softly. “What absolute bullshit!” William roared. “My soldiers will not let some little cock-tease steal the throne from me!” Alexander stepped forward without hesitation and struck the man himself, the heavy crack echoing in the cell as cartilage shattered under the blow. William was so preoccupied for a moment with the pain and the fresh blood racing down his face that Marie could focus on the consort for a moment longer. “He’s behaved so well, I don’t feel it’s really necessary to have him kept quiet,” Her voice was far softer than Rowan could have believed, and he looked at her hopefully. “But I can’t have his master thinking it’s all right to shoot his mouth off excessively.” Cordelia nodded in resignation and stepped towards Rowan, he saw the regret in her eyes as she tipped his head back and slapped him, too. His cheek only stung for a moment, a dull throb numbing his nerves as she stepped back. “But…” He paused as the movement immediately reminded him of the punishment he had been given for speaking last time. But there wasn’t another instant blow, so he continued. 

“But because I’ve been behaving, wouldn’t it make sense that I be allowed what he isn’t? So, maybe, he’ll stop causing quite so much trouble.” He waited for another look to be shared between the women and for his former friend to strike him again. So, he was startled when suddenly laughter reverberated from the walls, coming from Marie. “Oh, you’re such a clever little rat, aren���t you?” She grinned, catching his eye no matter how hard he tried to look away. “I’d admire your survival instincts if they didn’t disgust me so,” He flushed deeply under her words, feeling William’s glare on him. “If you think for one second that I’ll allow you to treat that whore any better than me –“ 

Cordelia appeared to be fed up with William and so before he could even finish his threat she had struck him again. The exasperated look on her face resembling one a parent might have when their child was misbehaving. This only entertained Marie even more. “Ha, ha! Well, I suppose, since you do make a good point, you can ask…three questions.” Rowan glanced at her uncomfortably and swallowed, nervous now that he had been granted some semblance of freedom. “I-wh-why are you doing this? What’s going on?” He stuttered, and she smirked merrily. She quite enjoyed being in a position of power. Especially over her disgusting husband and his timid little lover. “I’ll only count that as one question since they are both incredibly similar.” She granted and he bowed his head nervously. “Th-thank you.” “It’s a coup. We’re kicking the old King off the throne before he ruins the country any more than he already has. I organised a group of soldiers and servants that I could trust and arranged for his hunting trip to be sabotaged. He was smuggled back to the castle, into the dungeon and guarded by men on my side.” It sounded so wonderfully simple when she explained it like that. As though she were discussing a party or the arrangement of some renovations. “I swear I will wring your neck the moment I get out of these chains!” William snarled, and she turned an amused look to him. “Then I suppose you won’t be released from the chains any time soon.” “Why now?” Rowan asked, hoping to interrupt any more attempts at arguing. William seemed just as curious as Rowan was so at least he stayed relatively quiet as Marie spoke. “Now was the best time.” Marie answered sombrely as she rested a hand over her stomach, and Rowan’s eyes flicked to Alexander as he stepped closer to his mother. He looked…unhappy. Turning his gaze to Cordelia, Rowan realised her face had softened, also. “You’re pregnant?” He asked, on a whim, remembering how her hand rested there when she cornered him, and he turned her down. As if she were protecting something. Rowan had learnt when he was young that potential mothers usually guarded their stomachs at any threat of danger. Marie scoffed gently and shook her head in defeat. “I don’t believe I give you enough credit, consort,” She sighed, purposefully moving her hand away from her bodice. “I’m honestly quite surprised at how resourceful you are. If only you were on my side.” William’s jaw fell open and he stared, dumbfounded, at Marie. Temporarily silenced. “I can have children?” He asked after a moment. The only words not raised and dripping with contempt that he had spoken while imprisoned. “Well, you can’t kill me, now! Who will be the child’s father?” Marie snorted and shook her head again, this time with disdain. “You think I would let your poisoned bloodline continue?” She asked, scowling at the prisoner. “I don’t want any reminder of you to exist once I’ve taken power! This creature will be chosen as the rightful heir and Alexander will be swept aside! So, what? We can have another failure of a leader with your family’s ancestry flowing through their veins? Never. The child will be gone before it even draws breath.” The way she spoke indicated that she was just as upset with the idea as William was. “You can’t do that!” He yelled. “You can’t kill my child! My blood! You, selfish bitch! You only think about your son and nothing more –“ “This child would have been mine, too!” She interrupted angrily. “It brings me no joy to murder the creature, but I will not have any supporters of you rip apart everything I have worked for!” “How do you know it isn’t Jonathan’s?” Rowan asked before thinking. “Because,” She said, sniffing gently. “Jonathan is sterile.” “I-I was under the impression that William was, too,” He continued softly, flinching as Marie laughed. “William still has his balls.” She stated bluntly. “Jonathan, when he first became my lover, also became a eunuch. My previous husband was far more thorough than William.” That’s a pretty strong reason. “William’s supposed sterility is through pure genetic weakness. Somehow, he seems to have combated that.” William groaned and rolled his eyes. “To think I wasted my seed on your pathetic hole!” He snarled at Rowan who sighed softly. “It doesn’t matter.” Marie shrugged. “Any potential heirs of yours will be gone by next week.” Rowan swallowed the urge to comfort her. He doubted she would want his sympathy. “What’s your last question?” Marie asked, startling Rowan, he thought she would have counted the one about Jonathan. “He’s had three.” Alexander said, clearly thinking the same thing. “I’m not counting it,” Marie replied, smoothing her dress. “It clearly wasn’t something important in his mind.” Rowan dipped his head slightly and swallowed. “Um-thank you,” He muttered and glanced across to where William was sitting. “What-what are you going to do with us?” He finally asked, hazarding a look up. “I thought that might have been it,” She muttered and sighed. “We can’t kill you, yet. My power isn’t solidified yet, and should someone find your bodies everything has been for nothing. So, for the foreseeable future you’re going to be kept down here.” She said before looking at Cordelia. “Until we come across a convenient time and method for disposing with you.”