green-eyed-whumpster

[green-eyed-whumpster]

Just realised I posted this to the wrong blog, so, sorry about that, but thanks everyone who liked it! 😊 Xx

I do not know if I am capable of great destruction.

I do not want to find out.

But, I know I'm not harmless. I know from the impassionate debates I've had with anyone willing to argue with me that I have rage in my blood and fury in my soul.

If being peaceful means the capability of violence but the absence of action, then those not capable are harmless.

I am not peaceful. My mind is too loud. My voice is too angry. My words are too harsh.

But I am not harmless.

I have yet to experience my true fire unleashed. So far, I have crackled like a campfire, spitting at those who approach.

I wait for the day my sparks fly from the embers and land amongst the dry grass.

And in a moment, ignite into a blaze.

When that day comes,

I will tell you whether or not I am capable of the chaos that would grant me the term 'peaceful'.

Unless you find out for yourself.

[green-eyed-whumpster]

I do not know if I am capable of great destruction.

I do not want to find out.

But, I know I'm not harmless. I know from the impassionate debates I've had with anyone willing to argue with me that I have rage in my blood and fury in my soul.

If being peaceful means the capability of violence but the absence of action, then those not capable are harmless.

I am not peaceful. My mind is too loud. My voice is too angry. My words are too harsh.

But I am not harmless.

I have yet to experience my true fire unleashed. So far, I have crackled like a campfire, spitting at those who approach.

I wait for the day my sparks fly from the embers and land amongst the dry grass.

And in a moment, ignite into a blaze.

When that day comes,

I will tell you whether or not I am capable of the chaos that would grant me the term 'peaceful'.

Unless you find out for yourself.

#Poetry #my writing #campfire #inspired by pinterest #fire #pls help how do I tag things

[green-eyed-whumpster]

DÈMAAA!!!!!

Fckn ffck yeah! Gimme some of that sweet, sweet inspirational whump!

You know when you got back to Wattpad or Quotev or whatever platform you used (because we ALL had a platform we used to binge read whump meets 1D or BTS or 5SOS or Twilight or whatevs) and find out that the 148 chapter fanfic you were reading was FINALLY updated after like… six years??? This is that feeling.

Rescuing Déomas, Part 4

Rhys gets Déomas safely home.

It's been a while! Here's where to find the post that preceded this one:

CWs: extremely minor character death, past non-con, non-con recovery, slightly disordered eating if you squint, a little dissociation/depersonalization

Tagging: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @boxboysandotherwhump , @straight-to-the-pain, @newbornwhumperfly , @stickyfigs , @catawhumpus, @whatwasmyprevioususername, @jack-vistas , @green-eyed-whumpster , @unicornscotty, @tears-and-lilies, @whumpvp (I think that was it, but it's been so long since I posted new Déomas content! Please let me know if I've forgotten anyone, or if you want to be added to or removed from the tag list.)

Déomas doesn't have shoes.

He's been permitted them sometimes, in the palace or the gardens, but mostly he's been barefoot or worn little silken slippers, useless against the mid-spring mud now on the ground.

Rhys notices his bare feet just as they reach the end of the corridor, where they're prepared to step out onto the veranda.

They lift some boots off a fallen guard, his feet bigger than Déomas'. It doesn't matter, really - all that matters is that Déomas be somewhat protected, wrapped in Rhys' cloak and laced into this strange soldier's boots. Déomas regards the man as he kneels to tie the bootlaces. The soldier looks distantly familiar, and at last Déomas places him as one of the ones who helped with his initial...orientation to palace life. He liked to use his mouth, Déomas thinks. He sucked bruises down Déomas' back, sank his teeth into his flesh. He's a little too numb to feel the ache he probably ought to at the memory, at the recognition.

He knots the laces clumsily, fingers shaking and feeling like they belong to someone else just as surely as the dead man's boots. He gets back to his feet. He looks to Rhys for guidance, feeling lost, aimless, like a child looking for a parent in a crowded marketplace.

"Ready to go outside, Déma?" Rhys asks softly, reaching for his hand. Déomas takes it, breathing deep. He nods, meeting Rhys' warm brown eyes, trusting him with a kind of desperation as he steps out into the world.

---

He's never been to this house before.

Rhys shares it with Catríona, and Rhiannon, and the occasional revolutionary friend in need. They moved into it last year, after Déomas had already been missing for so long that most presumed him dead.

It's a cozy house, warm and bright and pleasantly cluttered, tucked on a quieter street in the manufacturing quarter of the city. Déomas follows Rhys' example and takes the dead man's shoes off just inside the house, while Rhys locks the door behind them. Some distant, sleeping part of Déomas' brain registers with satisfaction that this is a Pawley deadbolt. That used to mean something to him, about safety, about home.

Rhys offers him food, but he isn't hungry. He says as much, and Rhys frowns at him - no heat in his gaze, just concern.

"Do you know when you last ate, Déomas?" he asks softly.

Déomas chews his lip. "Um, yesterday, I think. Yesterday morning."

Rhys nods. "Okay. You should probably eat a little, if you can, but" - here he meets Déomas' eyes with his steady gaze - "I won't force you."

Déomas feels a stab of something in his chest, something that hurts and helps at once. He knows. Rhys knows. He isn't sure how he keeps forgetting.

"I'll try," he says in a small voice. He cannot stop himself from adding, "If you want me to."

Rhys smiles at him and Déomas basks in the sunshine of his approval. Approval means safety. Approval means kindness. Approval means comfort instead of pain.

Rhys goes to the kitchen. Déomas follows him, lingering uncertainly in the doorway as Rhys bustles about. He gathers them each a little plate of meat and cheese, bread and fruit, and little tiny tartlets that prove to be strawberry rhubarb when Déomas takes a tentative bite.

"They any good?" Rhys asks, watching him. "I made 'em the day before yesterday, and I haven't had a chance to try them yet."

Déomas finds himself smiling. They are good. He nods. He opens his mouth to say as much, but the sound that comes out of him, instead of a word, is a whimper. Rhys frowns in concern and Déomas wants to apologize - it isn't his fault - it isn't Rhys' fault - but all he can do is wipe desperately at his eyes.

"Sorry," he manages, "I'm sorry, I just- sorry, Rhys," he says again and again.

Rhys shakes his head. "Déomas, it's okay, sweetheart, it's all right, just- can you tell me what's wrong?"

Déomas wishes he had the words to express what he's feeling. He swallows.

"There's- there's an old story," he says at last, "about a girl who gets abducted to the land of the dead. And while she's there, she eats some pomegranate seeds - you know it? And then she has to stay there."

He gestures to the little tart.

"This feels like that, but- but the other way."

Rhys nods.

"Oh, Déma," he says softly, "I see."

It's like he's back at last in the land of the living. It's like Rhys is going to help him stay here.

[green-eyed-whumpster]

I've swan-dived into a very ill-advised rabbit hole the past half hour

v...

Anyway...

It's various anime boys tied up and gagged on Pinterest. I should not be here, but I've already moved in. I have created a board titled 'My Happy Place' and I'm actually kinda worried I'm a psycho.

But I'm not gonna stop.

I mean, look at this:

Isn't he adorable?

(there may be something wrong with me)

I luv it. Give me androgynous boys being kidnapped, please.

Pinterest link: https://www.deviantart.com/otomihs/art/His-chore-for-me-is-finish-version-784007341

#amine bois #bein cute an sweet an shit an tied up and stuff #I need more gagged boys tho #just givin me a lot of smirkin bitches #i want them broken already

[green-eyed-whumpster]

A Story Prompt Idea that I'm living for ever since I thought it up (like two seconds ago)

Female Protag: Girls don't want boys. Girls want power and freedom. Girls want to sweep into ballrooms wearing tight trousers and frilled coats, they want to wield daggers hidden in their chiffon ballgowns. We are tired of waiting around for knights to finally figure out how to save us while all we can do is embroider tapestries. We want to save ourselves from our towers, dresses painted with our needlework as we escape on to a new life! I want to amass a collection of philosophical texts and dangerous weapons! And I want to look down on anyone who would try and tell me I can't from my enormous castle!

ML 1: What about a man who could give you all these things?

*Legitimate silence as FP tries to process the stupidity and ML 2 waits in anticipation*

Female Protag: Did you not listen to me? I don't want what you could give me! I want to take what I want for myself!

ML 2: Would you someday want a man who would support you on such endeavours and cheer you on as you reclaim a castle as your own?

Female Protag: *Super turned on by the belief in her ability* ... Maybe

[green-eyed-whumpster]

Incredible oneshot, like all your writing but

rOwOn

Heehee, thank you so much !!

<3<3 😊

[green-eyed-whumpster]

Cats with dead mice you say?

Serial killer Rowan au?

You said au but I read UwU

I'm sorry.

Anyway!

Peter watched as Rowan slipped through the door, he always entered as though Peter was asleep, but he wasn't ever able to rest when Rowan was out on his own. He didn't know what would happen, to his friend or to those he encountered.

"Oh, you're awake?" Rowan's voice never seemed to waver from its usual gentle tone, Peter noticed, it was always especially gentle when he had been successful.

"I told you a long time ago, I don't like it when you're out late. I need to make sure you're okay." Rowan smiled softly and shrugged.

"Don't worry," He blushed and began to unlace his shoes. "Nothing will happen to me."

"You can't seriously believe that," Peter scoffed. "How many tonight?" Rowan sighed gently and avoided Peter's gaze.

"Three," He murmured as he finally kicked them off.

"How long do you think you can go around doing that to people before you get caught?" Peter asked, watching him intently.

"They were asking for it." Rowan answered nonchalantly. "I only look for people who deserve it. No one misses these creatures."

"Does that matter? Do you think the townspeople will just wait and let you explain why you were justified in doing what you were doing?"

"I can just claim self-defence." He shrugged. "They shouldn't have tried to hurt me, there's a killer on the loose, I'm well within my rights to protect myself."

"Did you at least kill them this time?" Peter asked softly, rubbing his face in exasperation.

"I only made that mistake once," Rowan argued.

"The others you left alive on purpose?" Peter asked.

"Some people deserve to suffer."

Peter let this comment slide and looked over to the boy, watching as he moved to stand before the fire. His slim silhouette looked like nothing more than that of a child's, it was hard to believe that he would go out every few nights and lure people to their deaths. Peter had thought before, that he seemed a lure for people intent on hurting him, but he didn't expect it to result in something like this.

"Don't be too careless," He said gently and looked up at Rowan, indicating for him to come closer. "You know that I can't lose you again, don't you?" Rowan nodded as he waddled over, lowering himself beside Peter and snuggling into his side.

"I promise," He murmured. "I don't want to leave you, either."

"Good," Peter kissed Rowan's forehead and sighed gently. "Did they hurt you first?" Rowan shook his head and inspected his hands affirmatively. "Good, where are their bodies?"

"In an alley behind the town hall, sentries won't find it for at least a couple hours." He said. "It was pretty clean, I sliced two of their throats and stabbed the other in the chest, it was a bit too quick for my liking, but if I had taken my time they may have hurt me or called for help."

"At least you're careful," Peter commented, leaning his head back in the chair.

Rowan had been doing this for a few months now, he had returned home after going to the market covered in blood and trembling violently. He told Peter that a man had cornered him against a wall and tried to force him, he had no choice but to use the small penknife that Peter had gifted him to defend himself. Peter did his best to calm the panic-stricken boy and clean him up before the blood dried.

After a few days no one barged through the door and demanded for Rowan to pay for his crime, and Rowan calmed down. It wasn't like the last times he had killed, this time nothing bad happened. He had protected himself from an attacker and no one came to punish him. The man hadn't retaliated, hadn't ripped through his skin or choked him to a point of blacking out. It felt strangely satisfying, knowing that the creep wasn't going to bother him again, and that he didn't have to be imprisoned and tortured because of it.

He realised that he had liked it.

Killing someone who deserved to be killed, but without having to be punished for it, made so much more sense to him in the cold light of day.

Ever since, he had gone out every few nights to lure people into trying to attack him, and when someone inevitably went after the meek-looking prey, he struck out. It always made Peter anxious, ever since he found out; but nothing he said would stop Rowan from going out, so he was forced to wait at home and wait until his friend returned.

"Once it gets colder, try to cover them with snow, if you can," Peter suggested, looking over to him. "They won't decompose quickly and hiding them would help prevent you getting caught. But just remember that your footsteps will be easier to track."

"Thank you, Peter," Rowan smiled softly. "I will."

#ask-kinda #one-shot #Rowan #Peter #murder #serial killer #blood #hastag evil au #au #knives

[green-eyed-whumpster]

I've been thinking about Rowan recently, and I had a question about him. If Rowan was an animal, which one would he be? Feel free to answer this whenever you feel like it 😁

Hiyah!!! Look, I'm really sorry, but I saw this at least two weeks ago, but then I forgot...

Anyway!

Knee-jerk reaction was that he was like a deer, or a rabbit, something innocent, and gentle, and sweet. But after considering it more (mainly in the car on the way home from work when I briefly remembered before forgetting by the time I reached a compooter), he's more like a cat, I suppose: absolutely adorable and soft and affectionate, but if you aren't nice to him, he'll swipe at you. The only thing is that he's slightly smarter so he can hide his disdain in order to survive.

Thinking back on it, our little gingerbread boy has been far more lethal than we like to believe. We don't think of the dead rats he's bounced into the house with, we just think of his big, pretty eyes and soft hair.

I miss Rowan. Maybe I should write something.

#ask #:P #I'm gonna start writing again #I certainly hope #I make far too many empty promises #I'm not a liar I'm just lazy and forgetful #I swear

[green-eyed-whumpster]

My OC Universe: Rowan 133

Chapter Summary: Rowan and Cordelia clash in an argument that really means nothing but felt important to them because that's just how it be. (Tagadocious: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @much-ado-about-whumping, @sky-or-something-idfk, @whump-me-all-night-long, @abitefullofwhump, @tears-and-lilies)

Trigger Warnings: Confrontation, reference to previous abuse, recovering whumpee

Rowan watched in silence as Cordelia lifted his pet to where Peter was upon a horse, he couldn’t hear her whimper, but he could almost feel it, his own soft sound of pain. The pain that one feels for another who doesn’t understand the depths of their own agony. A feeling that many of those around him had found weighing on their hearts for so long.

Cordelia tried to lead him back inside, but he hesitated, feet sticking to the cold timber beneath them.

“We have to go inside, Rowan,” She said. “We can’t wait outside until he gets back.”

“Then you go inside,” He murmured, watching the space where Peter had been a minute before. “I’ll stay out here a while.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She replied, tugging his arm with a harshness that startled him. “I won’t let you sulk out here until you get frostbite. How would Peter feel? After returning to find your feet black and your nose fallen off?”

“That wouldn’t happen,” Rowan muttered uncertainly, he didn’t know for sure, but he felt that she was simply messing with him.

“It would.” She answered. “How would he cope seeing you do such stupid things to yourself? He does everything he can to protect you, and you still insist on being so careless.”

“Why-why are you speaking like this?” Rowan asked, finally pulling his arm from her grip as he felt the door shut behind him. “It’s upsetting me. I don’t mean to be careless.”

“Don’t you?” She demanded, turning to face him. “Why else would you insist on standing indefinitely on the veranda in nothing but your sleep clothes while it’s snowing? You think I want to speak to you like this? I understand that you weren't educated, but you can't learn instinct!”

“Please, Cordelia,” Rowan gasped, struck by the curt tone in her voice. “Whatever you’re trying to say, please be clearer. I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong,”

“You –“ She paused for a second before her anger broke and she swallowed. “Shit, I’m sorry, Rowan, I’m,” She shook her head and lifted her hands to her face, blocking out the outside world to focus her thoughts.

“No, I want to know why you’re mad at me,” Rowan whimpered. “I don’t know what I’ve done.” She looked up again and rubbed her eyes furiously. "I don't mean to do things wrong, please tell me!"

“It’s not your fault,” She began, holding out her hands. “Sometimes, people just do things that irk other people. This doesn’t mean that those people were wrong, or what they were doing was bad, it just means that sometimes it can be difficult to remain amicable. And I shouldn’t have responded in the way that I did, I just lost control of myself briefly.” Rowan’s eyes didn’t seem to trust her, but he seemed somewhat calmer than before.

“Do I upset you often?” He asked cautiously and she shook her head before thinking.

“I truly care for you, Rowan,” She said firmly, holding out her hands. “But sometimes things you do or the way you react can rub me the wrong way, that is due to my own personality, and isn’t in any way your fault. The only viable excuse I can offer you, and I know I shouldn’t make excuses, is that I’ve been really stressed lately. It hasn’t been easy for me - for any of us - for a long time. You won’t ever be able to understand how awful I felt when I couldn’t do anything for you with William. I was entirely helpless, and I couldn’t even talk to Peter about it." She admitted, voice cracking in its attempt to remain soft.

"Finally, I managed to snatch you back from Death’s clutches and return you to Peter, but your trust in him didn’t reappear overnight. And I was afraid you may never come to trust him the same again. But, at least you were safe, that’s what I thought. Returning from my first long-term trip in months, I was happy that things seemed to ultimately be going back to normal, and we could all begin to move on, until I got word from Peter that William had escaped and attacked you again." She hesitated painfully and cleared her throat, looking away from Rowan's frightened eyes.

"I became afraid that maybe I could never leave without you being hurt, and that I would have to retire early just so we could protect you. It’s not rational but it was all that was going through my head, and it's always been one of my biggest fears to be forced to give up my career. This is why I’ve been feeling somewhat tense recently. And seeing you behave that way seemed to reenforce the idea that I wouldn’t be able to leave you in Peter’s care again. I'm sorry that I made it your fault.” Rowan finally managed to understand why Cordelia seemed to be so exasperated with him despite being with them for such a short time. It made sense to him why she was unhappy, and he felt bad for making her feel that way.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered. “I didn’t mean to upset you, really.”

Cordelia was grateful that he wasn’t reacting as though it was his fault, but more a misunderstanding between them. That was what she was hoping to convey, frightened she may do more damage to him. However, she still felt bad that he felt the need to apologise in the first place, let alone so timidly.

“No, it’s all right,” She soothed, moving closer and sitting on the floor in front of him. “Because of the way I grew up, I struggle with people who are so open with their emotions like you are. I was always made to think that showing how you felt was attention-seeking or dramatic, that your opinion wasn’t valid if it was shared so transparently. I have always closed myself off to others, they would ridicule me if they knew how I truly felt, or chastise me for looking for attention. And I without thinking reacted the same way to your emotions. Behaved as the people I was so afraid of. And I’m sorry.” Rowan looked down sheepishly and covered his cheeks with his hands to hide the deep red he was turning.

“I-I’ve always been like this,” He murmured, and she nodded softly.

“That’s good. It’s better than hiding yourself from everyone, so they don’t understand how you truly feel, how much you care for them, how much they mean to you. Simply because you’re afraid of showing them who you are.” She hesitated for a second and swallowed thickly. “Would you like to hear how Peter and I came to meet?” She asked thickly. "If I hadn't learned to open myself up and ask for help, I probably wouldn't be alive right now."

#whump #medieval whump #my writing #oc #Rowan #Cordelia #recovering whumpee #reference to previous trauma #flashback coming

[green-eyed-whumpster]

I believe I know who you are and thank you very, very much for your interest XD <3 :)

Rowan’s Masterlist (Maybe)

There is many a Rowan chapter so I’ll ‘Keep Reading’ this biznitch, and mark the ones containing non-con.

Also as I continue to update my dash this will disappear, so looking up the hashtag ‘masterlist’ should find it, but if not then I’ll pin it.

Keep reading

#much presh' #thank you new friend #I hope you enjoy

[green-eyed-whumpster]

Hiyah!!

I would never have the confidence to wear something like this but I think I look cute :P

Taggings: @much-ado-about-whumping, @tears-and-lilies and @sky-or-something-idfk and whomever else would like to ^u^

Picrew Game!

Make yourself here and tag 5 people!

I'll start by tagging @pretty-face-breaker @straight-to-the-pain @lettuceknighted @lektricfergus and @sopwithwhump and anyone else who wants to join in!

#tag game #picrew #self picrewing

[green-eyed-whumpster]

I am here to deliver cat photo. Have a good day :D

*GASP *

✨ p r e t t y   b a b y ✨

I will treasure this gift

[green-eyed-whumpster]

Whump Prompt: 131

- “Help me,” Whumpee gasped, reaching hopefully for the figure that had entered their cold, bare room. “Please… please, help me,” The figure remained silent but stepped closer, their silhouette shifting towards where whumpee was lying.

Each breath was effort, and their eyelids grew heavy with every second, but they didn’t care. This wasn’t whumper, that was all whumpee needed.

“You-you’re going to help me, right?” They croaked as the figure finally stopped, close enough for whumpee to see the red canvas of their shoes.

It took a moment for them to realise that the shoes were actually white, and the red was actually a dye splattering the fabric. They recognised the familiar colour of blood, and their stomach dropped.

“Looks like whumper’s been up to their old tricks again,” The blood-spattered figure finally said, lowering themselves to a crouch as their hand, sticky with more of the drying red, lifted whumpee’s chin to meet their face.

“Please don’t hurt me!” Whumpee squeaked tearfully as their eyes darted across the figure’s masked face. It was clear this person knew whumper, and knew of who they were, and considering the way they were covered head-to-toe in blood, they weren’t here for good reasons.

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” They answered anyway, running their thumb across Whumpee’s cheek. “I’m not interested in comparing myself to that disappointment. But don’t get your hopes up,” They smirked, reaching to scoop up whumpee’s whimpering form. “I don’t think this could be considered as saving you.”

#whump #whump prompt #whumper #whumpee #blood #badly wounded #whumping caretaker #implied death #serious injury

[green-eyed-whumpster]

My OC Universe: Rowan 132

Chapter 132 Summary: While Peter takes care of Olivia, Rowan struggles to calm himself, and Cordelia starts to lose patience. (Tags: @much-ado-about-whumping, @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @abitefullofwhump, @sky-or-something-idfk and @tears-and-lilies and @whump-me-all-night-long)

Trigger Warnings: Animal whump (not really, just sad pained aminal), recovering whumpee, conflict

Rowan could hear the pair begin to talk about him as soon as he pushed shut the door. He didn’t really care, it wasn’t new for people to talk about him when he wasn’t there. He shook the thought from his head and moved over to the bed, smiling softly when he saw Olivia in her place on the mattress.

“Hey, Olivia,” He cooed as he climbed onto Peter’s bed. “How are you doing?” As he crawled closer he heard his pet’s soft whine, a breathless whimper as she looked up to meet his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He whispered nervously, lifting a hand to stroke her fur, she flinched away from him and his eyes dragged desperately across her form, narrowing on the bandaged wounds on her leg and side. A cloud of green and yellow was staining the white, where infected discharge had leaked through the layers of protection. Rowan didn’t know what to do, the idea of trying to treat an animal was even more foreign to him than the idea of treating a human, at least then he could imagine how it would feel to him and how he could ease the pain. But he knew the signs of infection.

“No, no, no,” He whimpered, scrambling back off the bed. His legs were trembling as he stumbled to the door and burst back into the living room. Peter and Cordelia’s gaze immediately turned to him and he felt a sudden rush of relief that they were there, and he wasn’t alone.

“Peter!” He gasped. “Peter, I think Olivia isn’t well!” Without hesitating, the man leapt from his chair and raced past Rowan, going immediately to the wounded Olivia’s side.

“I don’t-I don’t know what to do!” He whined as Cordelia took his shoulder gently and looked into the room.

“Just take a deep breath, it’ll be all right.” She said gently.

“But what if it isn’t? What if she doesn’t get better? What if… what if she…” He swallowed tearfully and Cordelia embraced him, pressing his head into her shoulder.

“Please, don’t fret,” She soothed. “There’s no reason to get ahead of yourself.” She looked over his head to Peter, who didn’t give her the most comforting look.

“Rowan,” He breathed, turning to approach the pair. “I’m not a doctor, I can only look after injuries I’ve encountered before, and my interactions with injured animals are usually to put them out of their misery. So, I have no idea how to treat Olivia,”

“Are you saying she’s going to die?” Rowan squeaked, twisting to look at him, his face as flushed as his hair and cheeks slick with tears.

“No, no Rowan!” Peter exclaimed. “I just mean, I’ll need to take her into town, there’s a doctor there, he usually does work for farmers when their animals get sick and such. I’ll take her to him, and hopefully he can help her.” Rowan’s face relaxed and he breathed out heavily in relief.

“Oh, all right, good,” He murmured. “Good, and he could help her?”

“He could do more than I could, but I have no idea what’s wrong, I have no idea how far the infection has gone, let alone if it’s spread to other parts of her body,” He admitted. “I’m so sorry, Rowan, I should have taken her straight to him, I was just afraid of leaving you alone while William was still here.”

“Well, but I – it’s not…” Rowan stumbled over his words as he tried to figure out what it was that he wanted to say. He agreed that he didn’t want to be alone with William, after the first time when he almost gave in to the manipulation, but if Olivia died, he couldn’t imagine what he would do. Losing Oliver was painful enough, but to lose his replacement in the same fashion thanks to William was unbearable.

“It’ll be all right,” Peter said surely. “Cordelia’s here, she can look after you, and I’ll take her to the doctor as soon as possible. Hopefully it isn’t too late to save her.” Rowan nodded weakly and sniffed, rubbing his cheeks dry.

“Will you go now?” He asked and Peter nodded.

“I’ll take the horse Cordelia came on, it will be quicker.” He said.

“His name’s Trojan.” She said as the man pushed past them, his haste pausing as he turned to her.

“Are you serious?” He asked and she nodded, a proud smirk crossing her features.

“Is that funny?” Rowan asked nervously as Peter left, chuckling softly.

“Once Peter leaves, I’ll tell you,” She promised. “It’s a nice story.”

“Like the one you were talking about with the dark-skinned man and his wife?” He asked dubiously.

“No, it’s a nicer one,” She promised, leading him back out to the living room.

“Oh, wait, but Olivia,” He murmured, turning to look over his shoulder at where she was resting.

“Don’t worry, as soon as Peter’s finished preparing Trojan, he’ll be back and get Olivia. Just come and sit down, I don’t want you becoming hysterical.” Cordelia soothed. “You’re trembling so much I’m afraid you’ll shake apart.”

“I can’t lose her, too!” Rowan cried and Cordelia nodded gently. “William took Oliver from me, he can’t have Olivia, too!” She paused for a second and looked at him sombrely.

“He can’t. It’s all right.” She promised him. “Just take some deep breaths and I’ll make some tea,”

“I don’t want tea.” He grumbled, lifting his hand to his mouth to gnaw on his thumbnail. “I’m tired of tea. Whenever I’m upset you guys give me tea.”

“All right, then I’ll just sit with you, then,” Cordelia sighed, sinking into a chair beside him. Peter rushed back inside and pulled on a coat, moving wordlessly into the bedroom and returning a minute later with a bundle of blankets in his arms, Olivia lying uncomfortably within it.

“Hold on, let me help you get going,” Cordelia said, pushing herself to her feet. “I’ll pass her to you once you’ve mounted.” He nodded and moved to the door.

“W-wait!” Rowan stumbled over to the pair and leaned up to look into the swaddle, balancing on his toes. “You promise she’ll be all right?” He asked as he stroked her skull.

“I promise I’ll do my absolute best for her,” Peter replied.

That’s all he could do, I guess.

“Thank you, Peter.” He murmured, lowering his hand.

#whump #medieval whump #my writing #oc #Rowan #Cordelia #Peter #Olivia #injury #infected injury #animal whump #recovering whumpee #conditioned whumpee

[green-eyed-whumpster]

Learnt something new today about love languages (I thought a love language was French or something)

Rowan is a words of affirmation on the receiving end (and so am I, what a surprise) and a quality timer on the giving end

Almost all my internet friends are already here so I guess I’ll grab a couple missing links: @much-ado-about-whumping and @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

What is your whumpee´s love language?

Here´s a link if you need some help figuring it out

New tag game! Don´t feel pressured to answer tho. 

Sann´s is words of affirmation in the giving end and touch and quality time in the receiving.

Albus´ is gifts and acts of service in the giving, but words of affirmation and touch in the receiving end.

Tagging: @simplygrimly @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @ashintheairlikesnow @haro-whumps @endless-whump @crowned-avery @whumpfigure @whumpasaurus101 @milk-carton-whump

#tag game #whumpee #whump oc #whump community #every time I see the word community I think of that TikTok audio ‘hello lgbt communitee’

[green-eyed-whumpster]

THE GANG IS BACK

THEY'RE BACK AGAIN

And the reason my science report is late but THEY'RE BACK

WOOO!!!

Science is for nerds anyway :P

#Peter would like me to say that this is a joke #homework/school is very important #take your education seriously #but I’m not Peter. #science is for nerds

[green-eyed-whumpster]

IMPORTANT QUESTION:

Cats or dogs or other?

IMPORTANT ANSWER: Both. 

I fuckn LUV dogs, I have four at home, but they are big dogs and very loud and clunky so it’s a bit harder to spend the same amount of time with them as I do with my catten, who snoozes on my lap and nuzzles my head while I’m in bed and breathes his stinky breath all over my nose.

So I love my dogs, but it’s easier to spend close time with my cat, who is also ver sweet. 🐱+🐶+🐶+🐶+🐶=💖