The home of LPS is now exclusively @little-peril-stories! :) Find me there! 💕
The Prince of Thieves Masterlist :: (COMPLETE) Will and Bree are arrested and tormented by cruel Constable Baden Hatchett. (Fictionalized, historical-adjacent setting.) Mood Boards | Chapter Titles | Also on A03! | Playlist | Story Intro | Robin Hood References
Fen and Freddie Masterlist :: (CONCLUDED; may continue one day) University students Fen and Freddie are kidnapped by a man with superhuman strength who wants revenge on Fen's older sister. (Modern setting, some sci-fi elements.)
The Curiosity Collector Masterlist :: (CONCLUDED) Ash is abducted from his coven and held prisoner by the human Douglas Heminworth, sending his partner and sister in a spiral of worry. (Fantasy setting.)
me
Hello! I'm LPS, word-loving adult human who has adored whump for waayyy too long. All the stories linked above were written for Whumptober 2022.
I reblog stuff and occasionally post my own writing! My stories are at the top of this post. Feel free to interact as long as you're a kind and respectful organism....and maybe stay away if you're not a legal adult. I don't write NSFW/explicit content, but I may reblog some, so....sorry, but please keep yourself safe.
what.to.expect
What to expect here: lots of peril, tears, characters getting tied up, gagged, and HECKIN' hurt, both male and female whumpees with primarily male whumpers. Creepy & intimate whumpers. Oh, and swears. Lots of those.
What not to expect here: Explicitly sexual content. Character death. Suuuuper regular updates.
Some secret person is giving the Tumblr TPOT chapters some love — reblogging them as private posts or to a password protected blog. 💕 Whoever you are, I hope you're enjoying them, and thanks for checking my story out. 🥰 Feel to free to say hi on anon if you're shy but want to chat! 😊
Just need you to know that I reread the entirety of Prince of Thieves in one sitting and I loved it all over again.
Ahhh thank you for telling me this! It's honestly such a dream to know that you liked this story enough to read it multiple times. And that you loved it again. I appreciate you so much. Thank you. 💕
The Prince of Thieves (new and improved) - looking for readers!
For the last few months, I've been working on editing The Prince of Thieves, a story novel which was originally published on Tumblr and ao3 between October 2022 and June 2023. As I work through the last few chapters and prepare to write the new opening, I thought I'd put out some feelers...
By the end of this month (hopefully), I'll be seeking feedback on this manuscript!
I would love to connect with folks who are:
okay with whump (I would never call my writing gory, but there is LOTS of angst, captivity and restraints, hopelessness, torture, illness and bodily injury)
comfortable giving honest feedback on the characters and story
willing to point out any particularly egregious typos once in a while if/when you spot them
fine with it being pretty. uh. long. let's ballpark 150k? will give a final word count when it's done.
able to use Google Docs or Microsoft Word
able to provide feedback by ***February 29, 2024
***If I take too long to finish editing, this date will get moved back, of course. :)
✨ express your interest here. ✨
Details below the read more!
Here's the silly tongue-in-cheek blurb:
guy and gal get arrested and tormented by super cool, totally normal constable while pals on the outside freak out and make bad decisions; fun 1800s prison vibes with a side helping of angst and chosen family
Below is a more blurb-y blurb:
The goal of Iustitia aecum, the notorious thieving gang, is to steal from the rich and give to the poor. For a few years, that’s exactly what Jamie, Will, Colette, and Geoff (as the gang’s inner circle) do; they slip through the fingers of the law time and time again.
One day, everything goes wrong.
Will, by a stroke of fateful misfortune, falls into a trap meant for Jamie, the real leader of IA, and ends up in prison—in the custody of Constable Baden Hatchett, an officer who is willing to do whatever it takes to get Will to crack so he can bust IA and bring all its members to justice.
With execution—his brother’s and his own—hanging over his head, Will resolves to take his secrets to the grave, swearing not to betray the only family he has left.
Bree Cooper is one of IA’s runners, privy to no secrets save for one she learned by chance…that she was never supposed to know. When she, too, falls into the hands of the constabulary, she is forced to reckon with her past (a complicated history with Constable Hatchett himself) and her future (the gallows).
Will and Bree’s lives were already intertwined, and when they find each other again behind bars, they will rewrite the stories fate has planned for them—together.
Genre: drama, historical/period piece, whump / POV: 1st-person most of the time, 3rd-person for flashbacks / Narrators: multiple (5 of 'em)
sneak peek to see if the style is for you:
It’s cold up here on the roof of the boarding house—that’s why no one else is up here, probably—but there’s something delightfully bracing about the wind scrubbing the day’s dust from my skin while the stars gaze down. It’s delicious, almost wicked, to peer into the city streets from so high.
Up here, no one else can see me. Up here, no one can say a damn thing when I pull up my sleeves. There’s no one to gasp or gawk as I reveal the soft, scandalous flesh of my arms and trace my fingers along, throwing into sharp relief what must remain invisible at all other times: black-as-night ink painted on the canvas of my skin.
It’s a shame the tattoo would send me to prison if the constables saw it, because it’s beautiful. Sometimes I just stare down at the details—the leaves bursting from a tree in full bloom, the ring around its swirling, entwined roots. Would anyone else, other than my fellow runners or the constabulary, know what it means if they caught a glimpse? I’m not so sure, but they’d certainly be confused if they saw it on my arm. Silas Cooper’s daughter, tattooed like a common criminal? A gentlewoman like her? How? Why? What happened?
I scowl into the night. Breanna Cooper died with Silas, or at least I like to think she did. When I think back on the girl who stumbled, dry-eyed, away from her father’s deathbed and then ran from the man she was supposed to marry, out into a chilly autumn night much like the one I’m gazing into now, I don’t recognize her—don’t recognize myself. That girl ran into a life of nothing, yes. But isn’t that also what she ran away from?
✨ express your interest here. ✨
Friends who have already read TPOT, you are welcome to do a reread if you want, but there's never any pressure, ever. 💕
Day 1, Day 5, Day 14, Day 15, Day 30 (5 prompts, 1 story, posted Oct 1)
Bonus chapter for The Prince of Thieves. After she runs away from IA, Bree takes it upon herself to learn how to fight.
Man of Letters
Fantasy
Reading order: Day 22 | Day 16 & 19 | Day 24 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Days 3 & 4 | Day 21 | Day 2 | Day 26 | Day 9, 13, 17, 20, 27
A man falls in love, loses her, tries to save her, and then gets blamed for her murder. No names, no resolution, but operate on the assumption that it ends happily at some point.
The Prince of Thieves: Box in Your Heart
Historical, nineteenth century
Day 25, Day 27, Day 28, Day 29, Day 30, Day 31 (6 prompts, 1 story, posted Oct 31)
Bonus chapter for The Prince of Thieves. Colette follows Will on a particularly bad day. Months have passed since his rescue, but as it turns out, healing is never quick or easy—and neither is change.
No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.” | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?”
No. 5: “You better pray I don't get up this time around.” | Debris | Pinned Down | “It's broken.”
No. 14: “Feed me poison, fill me ‘till I drown.” | “Just hold on.”
No. 15: “I don't need you to help me I can handle things myself. | Makeshift Bandages | Suppressed Suffering | “I’m fine.”
No. 30: “It’s okay, just to say, ‘I’m not okay’.”
No. 25: “You’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave.” | Storm
No. 27: “You drew stars around my scars; But now I’m bleeding.” | Scars | “Let me see."
No. 28: “We might not make it to the morning; so go on and tell me now.” | Bloody Knife
No. 29: “I only sink deeper the deeper I think.” | Troubled Past Resurfacing | “What happened to me?”
No. 30: “It’s okay, just to say, ‘I’m not okay’.” | Borrowed Clothing | “Not much longer...”
No. 31: “I thought that I was getting better.” | Emptiness | Setbacks | “Take it easy."
No. 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back. | “They don't care about you.”
No. 3: “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.” | Solitary Confinement
No. 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.” | Shock
No. 7: “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.” | Alleyway | Radio Silence | “Can you hear me?”
No. 8: “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier.” | Outnumbered | “It’s all for nothing.”
No. 9: “Learning everything ain't what it seems, that's the thing about these days.” | “You're a liar.”
No. 13: “It comes and goes like the strength in your bones.” | Infection | “I don’t feel so good.”
No. 16: “Would you lie with me and just forget the world?” | “Don’t go where I can’t follow.”
No. 17: “You’re the lump in my throat and the knot in my chest.” | Touch Aversion
No. 19: “I’ll take one final step, all you have to do is make me. | Floral Bouquet | “I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”
No. 20: “People don’t change people, time does.” | Blanket | “You will regret touching them.”
No. 21: “See the chains around my feet.” | Restraints | “Don't move.”
No. 22: “They never saw us coming, ‘til they hit the floor.” | Glass Shard | “Watch out!”
No. 24: “I’ve got a head full of chemicals; mouth full of ridicule.” | Goodbye Note | Neglect | “I thought they were with you.”
No. 26: “Sometimes I get so tired; I don’t even know myself.” | Seeing Double | Working To Exhaustion | “You look awful.”
No. 27: “You drew stars around my scars; But now I’m bleeding.” | Scars | “Let me see.”
THE QUEEN OF LIES is a tale of quiet courage, inner strength, and forbidden love—and the ways we can change our lives for the better if only we take a leap of faith.
Story Intro | Contents [Warnings] | Mood Board | Vibey Song Lyrics | Ao3
Chapter 1 | The Whipping Post: Breanna Hatchett witnesses a brutal punishment while searching for her husband at the prison where he works.
Chapter 2 | The Constable and His Wife: Breanna recovers from her shock; Baden learns that she saw everything at the whipping post.
Bonus scene #1 | Worthwhile: The thief wonders if he's seeing things after the flogging.
Chapter 3 | The Looking Glass: Breanna goes out for lunch and gets some advice from a friend.
Chapter 4 | The Boy in Chains: Breanna visits the thief in prison.
Bonus scene #2 | Real: The thief goes through his usual coherent, polite internal monologue during the visit from some woman named Breanna.
Chapter 5 | Stealth and Secrets: Breanna does several things she isn't supposed to do.
Imagine you decide to re-work your story as a completely different genre (I'll leave it up to you which!). Would the plot still work? What would change?
Happy STS! Thank you, Anna, for the ask!
Love this question - so fun.
I mean, I have officially turned TPOT into a romance with TQOL. :D More on that..............soon :)
I do not think either of them would work as contemporary/modern fiction. I briefly daydreamed up a 'modern AU' storyline months and months ago, but in my efforts to avoid certain problems that arose by trying to move the story to a modern setting, I ended up changing pretty much everything and realizing by the end of the four-hour drive during which I was imagining this that it wasn't even the same story anymore, so that went into my brain's recycle bin. 😂
I DO think they'd work in sci-fi or fantasy! 🥰 Especially sci-fi! But both! Actually I don't want to think too hard about either of those because it seems like a bit too fun of a path to explore. 😂 But imagine...like...space prison? Sci-fi, high-tech jail cells? Cool heist-y tech IA use for stealing?
Or bring magic into the mix...maybe IA used it for stealing stuff but then how would you stop prisoners from using it inside the jail...maybe like a kryptonite situation, or something like @i-can-even-burn-salad's morlit shackles.......😍
Mystery? ...maybe? Thriller? Sure but I think plot changes would be necessary. Maybe make Hatchett even more corrupt and have IA also want to take him down while also trying to find Will? Horror? Oh I'm sure there's fertile ground there, but that's a no thanks from me. Someone else can write that if they wish. 😅 Have at 'er.
Have you ever gotten decently far into a story and realized that your title made no sense? How much does your initial premise mean to the development of your story?
Um, happy STS/a very belated Storyteller Saturday (one week later) to you, Anna! Thank you for the ask!
I don't think that this specific situation has happened. I did write all of Fen and Freddie without ever giving it a real title. 😅
In non-Tumblr writing stuff, I planned out the title for Book 2 (abbreviates to I&I...this girl loves alliteration) and then got rid of the character that one of the words was supposed to represent. I had to do some reflection: change the title or make it work? (Spoiler: rewriting it for Camp Nanowrimo starting TODAY...rip angsty heist AGAIN lol...and the plan is to make the title work! So far, anyway.)
Um...initial premise...
Um, apparently, it means very little? TPOT changed a lot from the first idea (which was Bree-centric); I quickly grew to hate the initial premise for The Curiosity Collector (Douglas sucks so much, the Ash/Laramie stuff was much more fun to write); my non-Tumblr novel has changed beyond recognition from its initial premise (tbf I was a kid, so that’s expected, lol).
Robin Hood References & Easter Eggs in The Prince of Thieves
Character Parallels (very loose/approximate)
Jamie Wardrew - Robin Hood/Robin of Loxley
Will Wardrew - Robin Hood, Will Scarlett
Bree Cooper - Marian
Const. Baden Hatchett - Sheriff of Nottingham
Jr. Const. Michaelson - Sir Guy of Gisborne
Colette Haris/Meunier (a miller's daughter) - Much the Miller's Son
Geoffrey Marks - Little John
Allan Armstrong Dale - Alan-a-Dale
Other References & Easter Eggs
literally just them wearing hooded cloaks sometimes *cracks up*
stealing from the rich and giving to the poor is IA's whole modus operandi
"I gave her Robin this time around" (Chapter 4) - I mean...
"Bree Langley. Bree Sherwood. Overton. Walsh. Carlson" (Chapter 13) - Sherwood Forest is the setting of many Robin Hood stories
the medic, Mr. Gysborne, obviously named after Guy of Gisborne
Geoff being a big guy but then having a cute little animal like a Hare as his code name. Right? Like Little John? Right? Right??
Will's code name being Fox (Robin Hood is an anthropomorphic fox in the Disney Robin Hood from 1973)
Allan Armstrong Dale abbreviates to Allan A. Dale (reference to the character Alan-a-Dale, but also: Joe Armstrong played Alan-a-Dale [and Jonas Armstrong played Robin Hood] in the 2008 BBC series Robin Hood)
"Verie" (very) ... "Much" ... ok it's a stretch but still kinda counts? I think I’m hilarious.
“Some well-known petty thief. Always gave a different name. Reynolds. Brooks. Marks" (Chapter 32). Kevin Reynolds directed 1991's Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves and Mel Brooks directed 1993's Robin Hood: Men in Tights.
Bulwell and Lenton are neighbourhoods/areas of Nottingham, UK (...as far as I could tell from Google Maps & Wikipedia, anyway).
Colette's real last name, Meunier, is a French surname meaning "miller"
The Prince of Thieves: They Left You Wondering Just Who the Hell You Are
Mood Boards | Chapter Titles | Also on A03! | Playlist | Story Intro
Warnings: blood, aftermath/memories of traumatic events, reference to (fear of) self harm/suicidal ideation
Previous | Masterlist | Next
Word count: 2725 || Approx reading time: 11 mins
They Left You Wondering Just Who the Hell You Are
Teaser: While Will was lost in his thoughts, staring at Jamie or the sky and avoiding looking any of us in the eye, Jamie was watching him, too, and whatever he saw scared the hell out of him.
Colette
Some days, Will seems like his old self.
Having Jamie back, seeing him alive and healing, is the thing that seems to give him the most energy. A lot of the time when Will is sitting with Jamie in their room, or every time Jamie manages to take a few more steps than he did the day before, he’s smiling. Laughing.
There are other moments, though. Quieter ones. More sombre. Darker.
When night falls, when it’s just the crackling fire that warms and illuminates the sitting room, I see him look away from the flickering light like it pains him.
In silent moments, though he is sitting still, I hear him catch his breath like he’s been running.
Sometimes, he stares down at his hands like he’s never seen them before.
He gazes out the window, watching the horizon, staring into the sky, even when there’s conversation swirling and bubbling around us, like he can’t hear a thing.
Wide-eyed, he watches Jamie. Like he’s terrified that if he falters in his tireless vigil for even an instant, his brother might disappear.
Jamie knows something’s different; Geoff knows, too. For a while, at Jamie’s behest, we did our best to keep Will sequestered in the sitting room or in his room or anywhere else, away from the kitchen and everything inside it and all the macabre possibilities it presented. Because while Will was lost in his thoughts, staring at Jamie or the sky and avoiding looking any of us in the eye, Jamie was watching him, too, and whatever he saw scared the hell out of him.
None of his fears came to pass, though, and now the smiles are beginning to outnumber the empty, haunted stares.
Some days.
“Hey.” I tap Will on the shoulder. He’s sitting in my father’s chair—which is quite amusing because no one else dares to go near it, and yet Will steals it every day and Father hasn’t said a word—with a book on his lap that he clearly has no interest in even pretending to read. “Come help me.”
“With what?”
“Dinner. Come on.”
That makes him roll his eyes like a saucy twelve-year-old, and something loosens in my chest that before was too tightly wound.
“Here.” I brandish a cutting board and a bowl of potatoes, still dark and beaded with water. “I’ll peel. You cut.”
He accepts the wooden board, raising his eyebrows when I nod my head toward the knives by the window. “Oh, you’re all trusting me with sharp things now, are you?”
Shit. I freeze, unsure of how to answer. “What are you talking about?”
With a sigh, he says, “I’m not that stupid, you know. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
“You’re not stupid.” My face is hot. Of course he noticed. All he does—all we’ve been letting him do—is sit around and think and notice things. “I’m sorry.”
Will doesn’t answer, and as with every silence that stems from him these days, I wonder what thoughts are going through his head. Sometimes, it’s not so bad—still comfortable if a little strange, coming from him. This one, though, feels worrisome. “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing.”
I shouldn’t be surprised by this answer. It stings anyway. “You’re a terrible liar, Will.”
His knife slips, hitting the cutting board, and the heavy wooden handle sends it clattering to the floor.
“Fuck!” He jumps back, the knife just missing his foot. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s just a knife,” I say, but his face tightens, and again I wonder what is happening behind his eyes, what memories are repeating in endless torment that he won’t speak out loud. “I mean… I mean, it’s fine. You’re fine. I’ll grab a clean one.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I’m an idiot.”
“You’re not.” Where is all this coming from? I bite my lip when I turn away, hoping he can’t see the worry on my face.
He shakes his head, mutters, “Thanks,” once I hand him a fresh knife, then clamps his mouth closed and starts to cut again.
I keep my eyes on the silky ribbons of potato skin piling up under my paring knife. Maybe I’ve made a mistake, bringing him in here. “Will…”
He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t glance my way.
“You can talk to us, you know.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
I hate that fucking tone, the one he uses when he wants to piss off whoever he’s talking to, and I don’t understand why he’s using it against me. I breathe in through my nose, trying to scrape up my patience. “Anything. That’s all I’m saying.”
Thud. Metal on wood. Thud. Thud. “Why didn’t you ever tell us about your family?”
I nearly nick my thumb. He’s really determined to get under my skin. He knows very well I don’t want to talk about it.
But.
I glance over at him, at his gaze that doesn’t leave the bobbing knife, up and down, up and down. For an instant, I’m under an overcast sky, watching Jamie and Bree Cooper stare down the constabulary to make a trade for his freedom. For an instant, his bruises are still fresh—deep purple and mottled grey and stark against his skin. “Because I didn’t want to.”
“Why?”
If I bite down any harder on my tongue, it’s going to bleed. “Because…” I don’t know how honest I should be—how honest I want to be, or how honest he wants me to be. “I left because of a fight with my father. He said… He did something that hurt me. A lot. No, not like that,” I say quickly, watching his face change. “Just… We had different ideas about what my life should be, and when he realized those two ideas could never be reconciled, he had something to throw right in my face. And when he did that…” I swallow the lump in my throat. “I said some awful things, too. In front of my stepmother. In front of Verie. And then I walked out the door and said I was never coming back.”
“You did come back, though.”
“I know.”
“Is all that why you never told us your real last name?”
I wince. “No. I…” God, it’s complicated. “Well, I was so pissed off. I didn’t want to use that name when I left. And then once we started IA…” I bite the inside of my cheek as I finish speaking. What would be different if Jamie had had the same foresight as me, all those years ago? If the constables hadn’t had his real name?
Silence.
When Will speaks again, the antagonizing tone is gone. “But I still don’t really get why you never even mentioned that you had a family.”
“You actually want to know? You probably won’t like it.”
He nods, still not looking at me.
“I thought…” God, it’s embarrassing now. “I was scared you three would… I don’t know. You and Jamie, your parents died, and Geoff, well, I’m not exactly sure what happened to his family, but I’m pretty sure they’re not around anymore, and I thought… I thought if you knew I had this big stupid fucking house and all this bullshit, you might… I don’t know.”
“You thought we’d be pissed about it?”
“Well, I thought maybe you’d resent me. That I had all that and…left.”
The time before he answers lasts a little longer, dragging between us. “That’s fucking stupid.”
I burst out laughing.
Despite how he still won’t meet my eye, how his hands are shaking ever so slightly, Will wears a tiny smile, too.
“Are things better now?” he asks. “Or…getting better, or…whatever?”
Are they? They must be. When I came back from Allan’s after finding Jamie there and promising to bring them somewhere safe, I was ready to do anything to get my father to send his carriage. I’d have driven it myself. Fallen to my knees and begged. Pulled out my knife and forced him to let us borrow it.
In the end, I did none of those things. I didn’t need to. He took one look at my face, listened to my request, and said yes.
“I think so,” I say, praying he’ll let the subject drop.
We move on to carrots after the potatoes. Will doesn’t complain about the work, which in itself is a wonder, because two months ago he’d have been squirming and doing anything he could to get out of preparing dinner.
“Did you see her?”
“Hmm?” The question pulls me out of my thoughts—ever-present worries about what the hell we’re going to do when winter is over and it’s time to move on.
“The day she left. Did you see her?”
Her. Who? It takes me a moment to realize he means Bree. Oh. “She was there when I first broke in. She was gone by the time I went back to get them with Geoff and my father.”
“Was she all right?” His voice is so quiet, almost timid, like I’ve never heard it before—like he’s scared to ask. Like he’s scared to know the answer.
He hasn’t mentioned her, or what was in the note she left, since I gave it to him, and to be honest, with everything else that’s been going on—being back at home and with Jamie’s recovery and worrying about everyone else every second of every day—I haven’t given her much thought, either.
“She wasn’t hurt bad after the trade,” I say carefully, though that’s something he knows because Allan mentioned the wound on her arm in conversation with Jamie once. She wasn’t hurt wouldn’t be true on its own, but She looked fucking miserable, while true, doesn’t seem like the wisest thing to say to him, right now or ever.
Only the knife on the cutting board answers, until finally he says, “That’s good.”
His knife slips again, and this time a sliver of red appears on his finger. With a hiss, he jumps back, though he manages not to drop his knife on the floor this time.
Time slows, blood seeping from the line along his skin. Will just stares at it.
“Hey.” Dropping what I’m doing, I reach for a clean towel. “Wash that. Come on. Put something on it to stop the bleeding.”
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m…”
After pulling him over to the washbasin and making him clean the cut, I press the towel against his hand. “Will. You’re fine. It’s just a cut. It happens to everyone.”
“Yeah.” He shakes his head. “Sorry. That was stupid. I’m an idiot.”
“For fuck’s sake. No, you’re not.” I grab his other hand and force him to hold the towel himself. “I almost cut myself earlier. Does that make me an idiot?”
Nothing would make me happier than if Will were to look me in the eye, smirk, and say, “Well, yeah.”
He just shakes his head and mutters, “I guess not.”
If I let him, he’ll drift away, wander off still clutching the cloth to his hand, lost in his thoughts, and I can’t help but think his thoughts are probably not the best place for him to be right now.
“Stay here for a few minutes,” I say, keeping my voice light. “Hold that till it stops bleeding and I’ll help you wrap it up. I can finish the rest of the chopping. It’s not much.”
“Thanks, Sp…” Realizing what he’s saying halfway through the word, he stops, and then I get what I’m looking for—a laugh. Short and a little dark, but a chuckle nonetheless. “Thanks, Colette.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I say, turning back to the cutting board. Racking my brain for a topic that will distract him, I settle on, “Why don’t I teach you how to play chess tonight?”
His answer is immediate. “Ugh. No.”
That’s a bit of a surprise. I thought he’d want a bit of levity. A bit of fun. “Really? Why not?”
“I don’t need to learn chess,” he mutters. “It’s just another boring thing to do ins—”
He stops.
When I look up from the cutting board, he’s clenched his jaw. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Will. What?”
Fussing with the towel against his finger, he starts, “I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but…”
“But…” I echo, hoping it’ll prompt him to say more. When he hesitates, I add, “You can tell me. I promise I won’t think you’re ungrateful.”
“I just… I…” Will sighs. “I’ve been inside. For… For so long.”
Of course.
Weeks stuck in the dark as a prisoner. Now, weeks stuck here, no longer a prisoner—but not far from it.
“I’m sorry, Will.” The last of the carrots swim in front of me. “I know it must be hard. Really fucking hard.”
“Yeah.” He blows out a long breath. “And I get it. I… I get it. Jamie can’t go anywhere. He—They—They’re probably still looking for me. Us. And now it’s winter and moving around is twice as hard. And we’re lucky to be here at all, and I know that. I know that. But still…”
He quietens, and I know I won’t get much more out of him.
I wait for my vision to clear before I dip my hands in some clean water and turn to him. “Let’s see how that finger’s looking.”
Gingerly, I check on the state of his cut. It already seems to be finished bleeding. “Beautiful.” This hyperbolic accolade makes him snort.
“Here’s a different idea,” I say when it’s bandaged properly. “Want me to cut your hair?”
This, he considers, which is a good thing, because that moppy head is a complete mess.
“Come on,” I say, elbowing him in the side. “You look like a shaggy dog.”
“Yeah,” he says, reaching up to tug at his hair, which is brushing his shoulders now. “Guess you probably should. It’s pretty bad, isn’t it?”
“You can say that again.”
I don’t say the next thing that comes to mind, which is that my silly sister is probably going to mourn the loss of his hair—I’ve caught her gazing at him quite openly when she obviously thought no one was paying attention—and I’m probably going to have to make sure she doesn’t do anything unseemly like steal any of it to squirrel away in a locket somewhere. Even though I’ve already told her more than once that pining after the mess of a man in front of me is a ridiculous idea.
“Whatever you’re thinking about,” I warned her the first time I caught her watching him with stars in her eyes, “stop it, now.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she sniffed.
I rolled my eyes and hoped she’d listen.
The second time, I smacked her on her arm and said, “What are you doing? You’re courting disaster. Look at him. He’s a disaster.”
“I know,” she said, her cheeks bright red.
It was only yesterday that I had to say, “Verie, you’re being an idiot. If Father knew you were pining after him, of all people, he’d kick all of us out of here faster than you could blink.”
She just sighed and didn’t bother to deny or argue.
My sister, a naïve fool, falling in love with my friend, an oblivious fool. In fact, the only good thing about this whole stupid scenario is that he’s so fucking oblivious, he hasn’t noticed Verity practically tripping over herself to sit next to him and making excuses to be close to him at every turn.
As if she can sense that I’m thinking about her, Verie herself skips into the kitchen, rosy-cheeked and smiling. “This looks fun! What’s going on here?”
“Chopping vegetables,” I say, rolling my eyes before shooting her a warning look. “Yes. It’s been thrilling.”
She throws back a split-second glare of, You’re so annoying, Lettie before she notices that Will’s hand has a new bandage. “What happened?”
“Kitchen brawl,” says Will solemnly. “But you should see the other guy.”
The look of utter confusion on Verie’s face is priceless. When Will jerks his head toward the pile of chopped carrots, she nearly tumbles over with giggles.
“You’re both ridiculous,” I say. But I, too, am smiling. And the best part: So is Will.
[Banner ID: A narrow horizontal, rectangular banner featuring a barred archway. The bars and the stone walls evoke the feeling of a dungeon or prison. There are burning candles on either side of the archway. The title of the story, The Prince of Thieves, appears in white text in the centre of the image. The author's username, abbreviated to LPS from littleperilstories, appears in the bottom right corner in partially transparent text. End ID.]
I was tagged by @i-can-even-burn-salad, who already regrets that tag but thanks anyway, love! 😂💜
My vibe: that moment when they realize the worst that could have happened has happened.
Look, if that doesn't scream death scene, I don't know what does 🤣
But per request, I pulled a non death scene out of my ass, passing over four perfectly good ones, 2 of which are spoilers anyway and a 3rd which is so gory I'd have to put a readmore up XD
So, have some angst instead, from Fractured Soul:
Darian's POV
Aleix was trying desperately to anchor him. Pinned to the wall outside Alaia's room, Aleix's body was flush against Darian's, their foreheads pressed together as Aleix held his face between large, callused hands.
He should have tried harder to find her. He should have known.
"You couldn't have known, Dari," Aleix murmured, reading his thoughts.
Reading thoughts was considered extremely rude, but they had never had many boundaries between them. And he could feel himself splintering apart, needed someone to stop the fracturing.
"You couldn't have known," Aleix said again.
"My mate has suffered because I didn't look for her. And now she wants nothing to do with me," Darian said, his voice cracking.
Alrighty :) no pressure tags going out to: @imaginativemind29new, @i-can-even-burn-salad, @dontjudgemeimawriter, @oh-no-another-idea, @little-peril-stories and Open Tag
Teaser: Chapter 21 of Good Slaves Never Break the Rules, Now on Ao3
Please let me know if you'd like to be removed from or added to the taglist. (In case you're wondering, you won't be spammed; I basically don't ever use the taglist except for these not-very-regular teasers.) 💕
