little-peril-stories

[little-peril-stories]

Between the next TQOL chapter, which is honestly so sad and was difficult to both write and edit, AND the next TPOT chapter to edit/polish (You Know The One), it's all misery over here. 🥺 I've been avoiding them both. 😅

#editing #amediting #lps the prince of thieves #lps the queen of lies #i powered through the tqol one though! #now for tpot

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OC Interaction Tag

I was tagged by @willtheweaver (here) and @illarian-rambling (here)! Thank you so much for the tag!

Rules: describe an OC and pair how they would interact with the given OCs from the people who tagged you!

Imma do this in two parts, so I'll go with Nimwen from Of Starlight and Beasts for Part 1 because I feel like I don't talk about that girl enough! Then I'll go with my boy Renn from the unnamed standalone fairytale WIP that plopped its way into my brain this weekend and hasn't let go since, for Part 2!

Part 1

Will's OC: Fen is a crow. But he does not act like one, having grown up among the foxes of the forest. All his life, he has had to keep his identity a secret. For obvious reasons, Fen does not let too much of himself be known. What he does show is an understanding nature ,and a knack for bringing out the best in others. Storyteller, a good fighter, tracker, and cook, he is skilled in many arts, though you’d never know that from the way he stays humble and modest. He values friendship, and will support those he trust.

My OC: Nimwen is an 18 year old girl who has spent most of her life (since she was 8) travelling through the uncharted forests of a region popularly called "the wilds", with her adoptive brother Scarlet and their little band of misfits. They live on the outskirts of society, since their kingdom has been so dilligently outcasting them, but they don't seem to mind it. All in all, Nimwen is an awkward, overly anxious, often paranoid but incredibly sweet girl, though she rarely lets strangers get too close to her. She embodies the energy of a skittish deer that will bolt at the nearest sign of danger, even if its a false alarm, though she has very good reasons to be that way - her father was wrongfully executed for treason, and the people of the kingdom didn't exactly give her much reason to trust them after what they did, so yeah. She's very in touch with nature and other people's feelings though she somehow seems very much oblivious to her own. She prefers to avoid confrontation, and will only fight if that's the absolute last resort in a life or death situation. She loves very deeply and makes strong bonds once you get to know her properly.

How they'd interact: I think Nimwen wouldn't be that surprised to meet a sentient, possibly talking, crow - she lives in a world where that kind of magic is actually rather common. So, once they'd met, I think those two would get along pretty well and would likely become good friends. She'd probably be very excited to learn about the new places this bird has seen and flown to, and they'd have a lot in common to talk about when it comes to forests and such. She'd likely listen to his stories for hours on end, never losing interest. The only tricky part would be convincing her brother that Fen is not a spy sent by the King to get them both killed, but once that's out of the way, I'd say conversations would be pretty interesting. Nim's an expert secret keeper, so I firmly believe keeping Fen's identity hidden will not be difficult for her.

Part 2

Illarian's OC: Twenari is an adolescent girl (12 in the first book, 16 in the second two) with short locs and a preference for skirts over pants. She is a prodigy sorcerer and general gifted kid. Throughout her childhood, her smuggler mother used her as a source of magical security and intimidation, which eventually caused her to run away after being forced to commit one too many unsavory acts. Because of this, Twenari acts much older than she is. She's pragmatic, blunt, and strategic. However, in other ways, she's very behind the learning curve. She's painfully introverted and never learned to socialize beyond formal events. Magic is her darling and purpose. She's insatiably curious about everything, but mostly, she wants to understand all the world has to offer in the field of the arcane. She's also at a kill count of about six. That's what happens when you're constantly chased by mercenaries and have the ability to explode people with your brain

My OC: Renn is a young man in his late teens (his exact age hasn't been specified yet, but he's suspected to be around 16-19) with a penchant for dark humor and a love for all that's mysterious and slightly macabre. He has a very strong vibe that is reminiscent of those early 2000s goth/emo kids, minus the angst - just the aesthetics and the sometimes deeply philosophical existential crisis - despite his fantasy medieval setting. He is a rule breaker and likes to question authorities at every chance he gets, and is also very savvy about the true inner workings of their seemingly perfect kingdom. It is implied that he has some kind of secret he is keeping hidden at all costs, and that implication would be true, but its not what most people would assume. While the townsfolk mostly label him as this unhinged/"crazy" reject who is always causing trouble and is up to no good, he is actually a really sweet kid that just had some truly fucked up stuff happen in his past. He is a loyal friend and values honesty and integrity above all else, even if it means he'll have to go down fighting for what he believes in. Despite all of this intensity, he just wants someone to truly understand him and have a pure friendship towards him. He is also implied to be gifted in some kind of magic, though it isn't specified which, and that he has knowlege of "forbidden arts".

How I think they'd interact: I believe Renn would see Twenari as a little sister figure of sorts, mostly because she is a few years younger than him (especially in her first book) but also because he probably sees a lot of his younger self in her - the painful introversion, the passion and drive for knowledge, the wish to cut free from the past. I think that given their personalities and pasts they'd probably get along quite well, especially when it comes to their insatiable curiosity for the arcane, as well as their wish to understand a world that is just so confusing to them as it is. They'd probably disagree a bit when it comes to rules though - as you mentioned she's pragmatic, and I know Renn's a certified rule breaker - but they would probably find a way to work around that. They're also kids who are very smart and who are way too mature for their own age due to having to grow up too fast, so I can see them relating to eachother in that way too.

Tagging: @memento-morri-writes, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @mk-writes-stuff, @littleladymab, @little-peril-stories, @oh-no-another-idea, @autumnalwalker, @eccaiia, @winterandwords, @rickie-the-storyteller, @forthesanityofstorytellers, @the-ellia-west, @cowboybrunch, @ybotter and OPEN TAG

#'The only tricky part would be convincing her brother that Fen is not a spy sent by the King to get them both killed' #this made me giggle #'a very strong vibe that is reminiscent of those early 2000s goth/emo kids' #MY PEOPLE #jk I was neither goth nor emo #(on the outside) #but this was my TIME let me tell you #loves rules vs. rulebreaker = great dynamic! #thanks for the tag!

[little-peril-stories]

Anxiously awaiting the next Queen of Lies chapter

Me too! 😳

I'm kidding! It's written. Currently, it's being edited/polished. My goal is to have it up within the next week! 🤞😊

#yeah so uh #this chapter got kinda long ngl #😅 #but editing is coming along nicely 😊

[little-peril-stories]

D&D Moral Alignment and Adventure Picrew!

Thanks @ceph-the-ghost-writer for the tag!

Rules: take this moral alignment quiz and make an adventure picrew for yourself!

[image IDs in alt text]

See the quiz was fun but I'm not sure how accurate it is because it's possible that the reason I'm that lawful is less to do with liking rules and more of my anxiety that I'll get in trouble.

However I am happy I'm in neutral good because that's what I assumed and my picrew is adorable. Yes, I did just throw together everything I liked. I don't care if it's practical.

@cadotoast @gracehosborn @catwantssushi @theeccentricraven @theelfauthor @illarian-rambling @mysticstarlightduck @mk-writes-stuff @sleepywriter00 @little-mouse-gardens @buffythevampirelover @little-peril-stories @awritingcaitlin @televisionjester @finchwrites @thepeculiarbird @randomlettrrsqqssfxwcvhxnqbwriro @dyrewrites @call-me-obsessed1755 if y'all want + anyone else who does!

#'less to do with liking rules and more of my anxiety that I'll get in trouble' #omg do I feel that #i may have made a joke about this yesterday when my students were bugging me to leave class before the bell #thanks for the tag!

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sipofsnips 4/26: dusty

In the sombre light of an overcast sky, rendered dusty and drab by the promise of snow, his hazel eyes were the brightest things she had ever seen.

The Queen of Lies

#writeblr #sipofsnips #daily word game #4/26 #lps the queen of lies

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Writeblrs who play tag games: How do you interact with the writeblr/post that tagged you?

Twin poll: How do you interact with posts/writing that result from YOU tagging others?

I’m asking specifically about writer tag games—Last Line, Heads Up Seven Up, OC in Fifteen, etc.

Assumptions of this poll:

#1: You saw the tag and you DO want to play/participate/pass it on.

#2: You DO tag the person in your post (“I was tagged by @/so-and-so…”)

#3: “Reblogs” include instant and queued reblogs.

#4: For the purposes of this poll, organizational tags like #other WIPs or #your writing count as the ‘no tags’ option even though they are, in fact, tags. (If it’s only those, not accompanied by comments on what the person wrote.)

An 'Other/Explain' example might be: You reblog their post, adding your participation to create a reblog chain. Some folks acknowledge the writing of their tagger in comments or tags; some do not.

Thanks for helping to sate my curiosity!

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Writeblrs who play tag games: How do you interact with the writeblrs/posts that you tagged/invited?

Twin poll: How do you interact with posts/writing that tagged YOU?

I’m asking specifically about writer tag games—Last Line, Heads Up Seven Up, OC in Fifteen, etc.

Assumptions of this poll:

#1: They tagged you in their post (“I was tagged by...”). You saw the notification and are aware that the person 'took' your tag to participate in the game.

#2: “Reblogs” include instant and queued reblogs.

#3: For the purposes of this poll, organizational tags like #other WIPs or #your writing count as the ‘no tags’ option even though they are, in fact, tags. (If it’s only those, not accompanied by comments on what the person wrote.)

Thanks for helping to sate my curiosity!

[little-peril-stories]

#writer things #positivity #also Disney’s Robin Hood💕💕

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#it only bothers me when it’s. like. in an email. written right there. #😅 #and they still spell it wrong #if they have never seen it before or it’s not visible then i don’t mind #there are lots of ways to spell my name lol

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Last Line Tag

I was tagged by @kaylinalexanderbooks and @writingmoth <3

Now the problem with editing is that I never feel like I have a last line, but today I did a change that was more than just shoveling commas from one sentence into another, so here we go.

“Don’t!” She scrambled back to her feet on her own, clinging to the edge of the table. “Don’t touch me!” She allowed a hint of hysterics into her voice to give her performance the finishing touch. “This is your fault. You are making a mess of my home just because someone smeared blood at my door!”

And I am gonna tag, if you want to do it, @winterandwords @little-peril-stories and whoever else wants to pick one up!

#oooh #is Aurelia doing some acting here? #perhaps trying to cover up for someone? 😉 #love itttt #thanks for the tag!

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Do u ever read a friend’s fic and it’s like holy shit how do you consider me qualified to talk to you?

#💕💕 #writer things

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“Proud Of” Tag

Thank you so much @mysticstarlightduck for the tag! (Post here.)

Rules: Post a snippet you’ve written that you’re proud of and tag 5 people.

Gently tagging (no pressure): @cssndr, @writingphoenix, @tabswrites, @pleasestaywithmedarling + open tag ✨

I let this tag sit for a long time (since Feb 24, apparently!). I mean, there are lots of lil moments and snippets that I'm proud of. But there were so many that didn't feel quite right for this tag, for whatever reason.

But editing TPOT recently led me to this moment in Bree's head. It's from my *favourite TPOT chapter, a quiet moment amidst the chaos of the plot. One night for them to truly bond before reality comes crashing down again.

*yes I know my favourite changes all the time lol

I love it. I love it so much. I love Bree and her wistfulness, her eternal battle between hope and despair, between idealism and realism. I love this glimpse into her thoughts and her past. And, heck yeah, I love the way I wrote it. So, without further ado, here's my "proud of" moment.

“What about you? If it was your last day, what would you do?” I’ve never really given it much thought. The seasons of my life have all been so different, each one swollen with dreams and wishes but never ones that felt real, like they could ever come true. When Father was alive, I wished to be far away—to be somewhere he couldn’t find me and poison my life with his endless bitterness. Once he was dead, I wished only to be fed and sheltered and safe. When I joined IA, my wish was simple: to not get caught. Well, now I’m caught, and wishes seem to mean very little indeed.

The Prince of Thieves

#tag game #proud of tag game #lps the prince of thieves #open tag #writeblr open tag

[little-peril-stories]

Sin of Purity, Purity of Sin: Part XVI

previous masterlist

see end note for content warning

Growling into the coarse rag that filled his mouth, Anden tugged angrily at the ropes holding his arms suspended by the wrists. But as always, he was powerless to do anything but watch as a sobbing Kiri was half-carried back to the inner chamber, leaving a trail of water in her wake. He couldn’t even feel relieved that her part of the ritual was over, not when Edric was the one dragging her to her cell. The thought of her alone with that bastard, even for the few moments it took to cut her bonds loose, made his vision go red.

Of course, he knew wouldn’t have to think about it for long. He’d soon be in too much pain to think of anything at all.

With mounting dread, he watched as Emitis opened one of the cabinets lining the wall. After an endless moment, the High Priest selected a tool Anden hadn’t seen in months: a scourge of multiple thin, knotted cords attached to a single handle. At first glance it looked less intimidating than the whips or knives Emitis most often chose. But fastened to the end of each strand was a small stone, the edges harsh and jagged. There was a reason this particular instrument was used so sparingly; Anden’s knees nearly buckled as he remembered how little of his skin he’d been left with the last time.

The horribly familiar sense of shame rose up within him like bile. He hated this—he hated being so damn scared.

Forcing a scowl, he glared as the High Priest turned to him, but the man only smiled and stepped out of his line of sight. Though it was probably for the best that Anden’s words were lost into his gag when he told Emitis exactly where he could put that scourge handle, Anden still hated that he had no control over even his speech. But he knew that he’d be grateful for the thick cloth that cleaved his jaw soon enough—it was much safer to have something to bite down on other than his own tongue. 

From behind him, Emitis declared, “You may begin.”

That night’s worshipper was a thin, reedy little duke, who’d spent his entire prayer of gratitude attentively observing Kiri’s torture as if she was the specimen of some scholarly study. Now he turned his attention to Anden, and began the prayer of confession in a bored drawl. But there was an ill-concealed fascination in his gaze that shone all the stronger as he reached the end of the first stanza.

“—that I may be deserving of my place in Ilyrna, the kingdom of Your rule.”

With an ugly thwack, the scourge fell upon Anden’s back, ripping through tunic and flesh alike. The pain struck hard and fast like lightning, before settling into a low, steady fire. A muffled groan escaped him, despite his best efforts to hold it in.

The duke continued reciting the prayer in a monotone, but his eyes gleamed with interest. The worshippers who paid for these private rituals were usually the kind of devout zealots who truly believed in all this bullshit; they paid Anden no real mind except as an object to be used in their prayers. It was always discomfiting, to be ignored as less than human. But to be seen, really seen, when he was strung up and bleeding and so fucking helpless, was so much worse.

The fierce burning down his back was almost a welcome distraction.

That’s what he tried to tell himself, at least, but his heart was racing in panicked anticipation as the second stanza drew to a close. Schooling his face into a neutral expression, he bit down hard on the gag and braced himself.

It was a terrible game he always played, refusing to react the way these sick bastards must want him to. It was a game he could never win; he knew that far too soon his screams would be ripped from him as violently as the skin was ripped from his back. But it was a game he had to play. He couldn’t just lose without a fight—he couldn’t give anyone that satisfaction.

The duke, though, was watching his attempts at stoicism with the same fascination as he had Kiri’s terrified cries. And Anden realized that whether he held himself together for another blow or fell apart, this man would enjoy himself either way. Anden had lost the game before it had even begun.

Another strike—the flash of white-hot pain drew out a low, anguished cry. He couldn’t get his feet back under him, and he couldn’t stop shaking, and he couldn’t hide how pathetic he was. It didn’t matter—it didn’t matter that he was losing control because he’d never had any to begin with. He’d already lost. But that thought was far from comforting.

With each new blow came a new wave of agony. Though he tried to keep track of how many lashes he had left to endure, he soon lost all awareness of the prayer—he knew nothing but the excruciating pain of sharp stone slicing his flesh to ribbons. When his bonds were cut at last, he collapsed to the ground and howled as the movement tore even further at his back. Panting hard, he squeezed his eyes shut and fought back his rising nausea. When he dared to open them, it was to the sight of the duke and the High Priest looking down at him, one in curiosity, the other in contempt. For one awful moment, their gazes pinned him in place, and for that one awful moment Anden wished he could die—anything to escape the sickening shame of his helplessness laid bare.

At last the High Priest and the worshipper were escorted out, and the two remaining guards hoisted Anden onto one of the stone tables. It took the healer priestess far longer to mend his back than it had taken Emitis to rip it apart, and her unsympathetic caretaking hurt nearly as much.

Gods, when would he ever stop hurting?

Flickering in and out of consciousness, he was prostrate on the stone table at one moment, and had been dragged halfway across the chamber in the next. And then he was jolted awake by his own sharp cry as yet another burst of anguish shot through him—through his tears, he saw that he’d been dropped to the floor of his cell. He was dimly aware of the guards’ taunting voices as he tried and failed to pull himself to his cot; their laughter seemed to echo through the chamber even after the thud of the iron door announced that he’d been left alone with Kiri.

Kiri—where was Kiri? He willed his fading vision to hold out just a bit longer as he sought out her form in the opposite cell. At last he could make out the shape of her, her hands clinging to the bars. He didn’t have to be able to see her expression to notice that she was scared for him. He wanted to reassure her, but first he needed to know—

“You okay?” he asked, his voice raw.

He passed out before he could hear the answer.

The next day was absolute hell. It was shamefully obvious to everyone that he wouldn’t be able to stand at attention for the entirety of the daily temple rituals, so the guards bound him to his pillar in the High Chamber. The scarlet cords wrapped tightly around him and the column in a series of loops running from his ankles up to his shoulders. It had been months since they’d needed to resort to such measures to keep him upright; it was just as humiliating as he remembered, and even more painful. His back was pressed so hard into the pillar’s surface that, even through the thick bandages wrapped around his torso, he could feel each stone ridge burrowing into his wounds. No sooner would the fiery pain begin to dull, than the slightest shift in his position would send it burning fresh through the latticework of torn skin. By midday, he was earnestly grateful for the padded muzzle that encased his lower face—he didn’t have the energy to even try to hold back his pitiful moans.

And then there was Kiri. He stole a glance at her twice that morning, before he could no longer afford the additional pain it cost him to turn his head. She was far from okay—she was too still, too unresponsive to anything around her. But her mind was often far away, or perhaps far inward, in the days after a private ritual. She always returned to him, he reminded himself. Something in his chest tightened, though, when he saw that even her endlessly-moving hands only hung limp at her sides. In his more coherent moments, when he wasn’t overwhelmed with the simple task of breathing through his suffering, he was all too aware that something was very wrong with Kiri.

But as the day went on, such moments of lucidity grew more fleeting. He was so exhausted that he felt like he was losing his grip on reality; his vision swam, and every worshipper who stood before him warped into something grotesque and inhuman. When he was at long last being half-dragged back to the Chamber of Vessels, he even thought he saw Omika passing through the halls, before he realized it was only a temple attendant.

The following two days—or was it three?—passed in the same endless blur. The one thing that kept it from being fully unbearable was knowing that this would all soon be over. Midsummer would fall in less than two weeks. He’d survived nearly a year—he ignored the way his throat tightened at the thought—so surely he could survive just a bit longer. And so could Kiri.

He had to remind himself of that last fact frequently. As the pain began to dull, somewhere around the fourth day, his concerns for Kiri only sharpened. His wounds were healing well, but she’d clearly found no ease from whatever was still plaguing her mind.

At least she didn’t seem to feel any compulsion to hurt herself. In the weeks following her mother’s execution and Edric’s assault—gods, Anden was going to burn down this place and everyone in it for putting her through that—he’d had to keep a close eye out for signs she was about to start scratching or biting herself. But even on the worst of those nights, when she’d seemed so wholly overcome with grief, he’d still seen her constantly combing through the end of her braid or tapping her thumb and forefinger together or flapping her hands at her sides. Yes, the endless movements were a heartbreaking gauge of just how distressed she was at any given moment. But they also showed Anden that some part of her was still seeking to comfort herself with her usual repetitive motions, however unconscious it may be. Some stubborn, beautiful part of her had always remained determined to help herself.

But now her hands were so still. And Anden didn’t know what to do.

That night was the first all that week in which he didn’t immediately pass out from pained exhaustion. Laying next to the cell bars, he slipped his hand out into the narrow hallway. He held back a groan as the movement pulled at his back, but Kiri must have noticed him wince.

“Don’t,” she admonished softly, even as she edged closer to her own set of bars and reached out toward him.

He clasped her hand and squeezed it tenderly. “Worth it.”

“But—” Kiri’s brows knit together in concern; it was the most emotion he’d seen her express in far too long. “How bad is it tonight?”

Pretty fucking terrible, he thought. But he only said, “Not so bad now. Healer says I’ll be fine.”

Her thumb brushed softly against the back of his hand, then again and again in soothing repetition.

Gods, he loved her.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he pleaded gently. “Please, I just—did something happen?”

Her hand stilled once more, and his heart dropped.

“I’ve been worried about you,” she lied truthfully.

“Yeah, but you’re always worried about me. There’s more to it, isn’t there?” At her silence, he swallowed down his rising frustration. There was a whole city of people who deserved his anger far more than Kiri ever could.

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” he continued, as a reminder to himself as much as to her. “But I’ll be worried whether you do or not. I, uh, I’m always worried about you, too, you know?”

Something in her expression cracked. He pressed on. “That night, during that last ritual—”

“No.”

Anden froze.

Kiri wasn’t looking at him anymore. “No. No, I can’t—I—gods, please, I can’t—”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit—he’d pushed too hard. “Kiri—hey, Kiri, it’s okay.”

Her breathing was growing erratic. “I can’t do it. I can’t, I can’t do it.”

Her fear tore at his heart. Maybe he should forget the whole thing, just focus on helping her breathe and settle into the present. But damn it, this might be the only time he could get some answers.

“What can’t you do?”

“Please—please, I can’t—”

“What can’t you do, Kiri?”

“The—the water!” Shoulders shaking, she sobbed, “The water—I—I can’t, I don’t want to—”

The water. Anden was relieved to think that nothing else had happened that night—he’d been so worried about what Edric could have done to her in her cell while everyone else was focused on his flogging. But gods, did he feel like an asshole. He hadn’t even needed to ask her what had been troubling her because apparently he’d already known; all he’d accomplished in his ill-conceived interrogation was making her relive her torture.

Guilt gnawing at his core, he slowly coaxed her into matching his breathing. His arm ached from stretching it out into the hall for so long, but he would happily hold her hand for as long as she wanted him to.

When her tears ran dry, Kiri’s voice came out small and fragile. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Anden insisted. “I shouldn’t have hounded you like that.”

“But I made you worry. And you—you’ve been hurt so badly, you shouldn’t have to—”

“It’s fine. Really. Hell, worrying about you’s been a nice distraction from it,” he joked grimly.

Kiri clearly did not find it amusing. “Will you be able to make it through the procession tomorrow?”

“I mean, I’ll have to. At least it’s our last Fifth Day.” When he felt her stiffen, he was quick to reassure her, “Hey, that’s a good thing, remember? Means we’ll be out of here soon.”

She hesitated, then jerked her head in a nod. “I guess it’ll be easier to escape with everyone distracted by the Midsummer preparations.” Something in her voice sounded forced, like she was trying to convince herself—though Anden had the oddest, fleeting thought that she might instead be trying to convince him.

“I’m sure that’s what my brother’s been waiting for,” he lied.

He really needed to tell her.

For so long, he’d been telling himself that he could protect her from knowing what was coming, always just for a little while longer. And now they were running out of time.

But how the fuck was he supposed to tell her tonight? She’d only just settled into something resembling calm, after he’d made her hysteric at the thought of being forced underwater again.

Her hands were so still.

His thumb brushed softly against the back of her hand, then again and again in what he hoped was soothing repetition, until he fell into an uneasy sleep.

The next day’s holy procession was by far the most difficult he could remember. He could still barely walk on his own as it was; pulling Kiri in that damned chariot she was always displayed on, through the entire city, seemed an impossible task. But he plodded on, trying to ignore the way the harness straps that pressed into his barely-healing scars. Nearly a year’s worth of experience had long since taught him that if he collapsed, he’d only be beaten for it later. He couldn’t afford any more injuries right now, not with so few days left till Midsummer.

Because they would escape on Midsummer.

They would.

And so he followed the vanguard attendants bearing the hideous statue of Vato, step by painful step. He pretended that he didn’t know how many thousands of people lining the streets could see him in such a pathetic state. He pretended that he couldn’t feel the revolting shame that welled up from his core. Even when he happened to spot that thin little duke, studying him with those same gleaming eyes with which he’d studied the flogging so few nights ago, Anden pretended that it didn’t bother him in the least. Why would it, with escape so near?

Escape was so near.

It was.

As they passed out of the craftsmen’s district, a familiar whistle, so low he nearly missed it, rang out from his left. And there on the sidewalk stood Antoni. Their twin green eyes locked for the briefest of moments. Anden returned his brother’s subtle nod, and continued on as though his heart wasn’t pounding in his ears.

There was still plenty of room for worry; there were so many ways something could go wrong. But a tightness that Anden hadn’t even noticed had been building in his chest for months, suddenly eased. The plan really was still on.

And he really needed to tell Kiri about The Seaman of Oshna.

That night, after the healer priestess finished repairing the stitches he’d pulled and he was left alone with Kiri once more, he told himself that he had to do it. He had to tell her. And to his own credit, he would have, if he weren’t interrupted by the hideous creak of the outer chamber door.

Fear and fury warred inside him. It was too soon; he’d barely recovered at all after the last private ritual. They couldn’t do this to him after all he’d suffered today—he truly didn’t know if he could take any more. And Kiri—he met her gaze and his heart ached at the primal terror he saw there.

It was for the best, he tried to tell himself, while he watched her dark eyes turn glassy as Edric took his time winding rope around her chest. He had to trust that her mind knew how to best protect her from what was coming; if that meant hiding her away somewhere deep within herself, that must be what would keep her safe. He couldn’t help but worry that she was in more than the usual danger, though he couldn’t have said of what.

Because no matter what Kiri had said, and no matter how much Anden wanted to believe her, he couldn’t quite shake the thought that something else had happened last time, something she wasn’t telling him. And he knew it was too much to hope that tonight would be any less a nightmare for either of them.

I am apparently incapable of writing in any state other than an absolute frenzy; I was wildly unproductive for a couple of days because I could not think about anything other than this chapter. I clearly need to make sure that my next one comes out in a more timely manner, cause I think the gaps in my wriitng time are doing weird things to my brain.

I can't say enough how thankful I am to everyone who's stuck with this fic, y'all have made this process so much more fun!!!

We're about to get into the chapters I've been most excited/most dreading to write, so...brace yourself I guess lol

taglist: @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @little-peril-stories @monarchthefirst

Please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!

content warning: captivity, religious abuse, restraints, torture, flogging, mention of self-harm, mention of sexual assault

#sin of purity purity of sin #well aren't we starting with some delightfully whumpy imagery 😊 #(sorrynotsorry Anden) #his worry for Kiri is so touching gah 😭 #hey y'all you know what time it is! #iiiiiiiit's FUCK EDRIC TIME! #FUCK YOU EDRIC #oh this fucking whip 😭 noooo #ugh this duke is creepy #poor Anden 😭 #oh but i actually love some unsympathetic caretaking ahahaha (.......sorrynotsorry Anden round 2) #'He passed out before he could hear the answer.' 🥺🥺 #ugh i somehow forgot how horrible this fucking religion is #Kiri's stillness 🥺 #i'm so scared for both of them 🥺🥺🥺 #'he even thought he saw Omika'...'it was only a temple attendant' #is it too much to hope that it WAS her? in disguise? 😭😭 #'Gods. he loved her.' #HANNAH FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD. STOP HURTING ME #she's so scared 😭😭😭😭😭😭 #Anden honey I really don't think you did anything wrong here. your're just worried #fuck these people for making him drag the chariot despite the state he's in UGH #oh god what's going on with Kiri 😭 #i know it has to do with Edric I fucking hate him UGHHH #😭 #I'M SCARED

[little-peril-stories]

First Line Tag

Sorry this took so long to get to! Thank you @little-peril-stories for the tag!

Rules: Share a first line! It can be the first line of a chapter, the first line you did in the most recent writing session, the first line of a story, the first line a character says, any kind of first line!

I decided to share the first line of Nowhere to Nowhere 😁

They were foolish, I thought, for going that way where getting eaten by one of the Forest Folk was quite possible.

#ooooh a mysterious 'that way' #and ppl might get eaten #👀 #sounds fun! :D #let's hope they don't...but...I bet someone gets gobbled up

[little-peril-stories]

Personality Through Quotes Tag

I was tagged by @illarian-rambling (here)! Thank you so much (:

MY PROMPT WAS: "A quote about siblings"

YOUR PROMPT IS: "A quote about their relationship with money (in the past and nowadays)"

I'll go with the main cast of "Of Starlight and Beasts" for this one!

Corah: "Oh I wish I had siblings! I've always wondered what that would be like - I mean, I've seen enough siblings around that I have a rough idea, but that's always such an individual experience. It would've been cool to have someone my age, other than just regular friends, around at all times. Though I'm sure we'd have driven Dad crazy with our antics if that was the case - I was chaotic enough on my own (giggles)."

Arammys: "The bond between siblings is among one of the strongest there is, and often one of the purest. At least that's what I...think - in my intuition, I mean. I haven't had any progress in recalling my memories, so I can't speak of my own experiences with siblings - if I had any at all - yet. But something tells me that my intuition might be right, at least in my case. At least I hope so and I want to remember whoever they were, or are."

Eidan - "I didn't have any siblings or parents, but my older cousin fit both of those roles perfectly throughout my childhood - he was the closest thing I've ever had to a true family. We didn't have much - we often had nothing at all - but we had each other, and he always kept me safe, and was always there for me when I needed him the most, even if we sometimes annoyed each other to no end. And though he was not my brother by birth he was by choice - and I just wish I had known how lucky I was before it was all too late."

Masen - "You know, having siblings ain't what it's cracked up to be. Especially if you have a twin. Yeah, it's all loyalty and mushiness until they've got something else they want to achieve - and that something's more important than you. Then they stab you in the back when you least expect it and run off with the people with the money into a perfect new world where you're not invited - Yeah. (shrugs awkwardly) I realize this got a bit too specific, my bad."

Kyran - "What even is there to say? You're born, and so are they, you grow up trusting one another until they start hanging out with shady people and become someone you barely recognize, and then you annoy the hell out of each other and don't speak for the next five years. Oh, and then they blame you for leaving them when they were the ones who made that mess to begin with -"

Elias - "(Without a drop of emotion in his voice) My siblings are the reason I truly believe I will have gone fully grey before 30. I'm almost certain they're trying to make it a competition. I do not know where I went wrong with my life but here we all are. Now pass me the rum."

Tomasa - "I don't have any siblings, Gods know Ma had enough trouble keeping me in line when I was a little ankle biter. But I've been told having 'em is like flipping a coin. You are either best friends for life or want to kill each other. Sometimes both, from what my friends tell me, ha! I don't really fancy having any siblings of my own, if I'm being honest - but having someone I could prank 24/7 does sound really tempting. I guess Arammys will have to do (laughs, already plotting her next prank on the poor, unsuspecting mage)"

Nimwen - "I've learned your true siblings aren't always those you're bound to by blood. They may be, sure, but not always! Sometimes, the strongest family bonds are those we choose, bonds nurtured like a small weed that grows into a mighty tree - and I know that to be one of the most important truths of life. "

Rin - "I never really cared for that. That's just another word - and that's it, a word. Most bonds are a fantasy made to comfort the hearts of the common folk from the harsh truth. Real people are fickle, they don't care for you when they've got no use for what you have to offer. My Nest surely didn't. (There's a moment of pause and a sense of sorrow behind his eyes before he shakes it off with a sly smirk, hiding it) But who cares for that sentimental junk. Besides, gold's a much more reliable company, don't you think?"

Leora - "Family is the most important thing in the world - by blood or by choice it matters not as long as the sentiment is there and it is pure. I would do anything for my siblings and I know they would do anything for me. I know this all too well. Where we come from, you learn to make your actions and your words count - you never know what tomorrow might hold and you must cherish those you hold dear, always, because they can be taken from you. At least, that's my perspective."

Florynce - "Mine have been dead for many years now. I remember all of their names." (You think she's about to say something else about them, but despite the sorrowful look in her eyes she changes the subject so jarringly you almost feel whiplash) "But I don't wanna talk about that. Do you want to see this cool bug I found? It's glowing."

Tagging: @mk-writes-stuff, @eccaiia, @the-ellia-west, @memento-morri-writes, @little-peril-stories, @littleladymab, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @talesofsorrowandofruin @doublegoblin @oh-no-another-idea @cowboybrunch @ybotter @thepeculiarbird @crowandmoonwriting @your-absent-father @rickie-the-storyteller @jasperygrace @jay-avian @saltysupercomputer @winterandwords @autumnalwalker and OPEN TAG

#crud. i did the two truths and a lie poll for Eidan before I read this so I think I picked wrong 😂 #oh well #Elias omg 😂 poor guy #'by blood or by choice it matters not as long as the sentiment is there and it is pure' #omg that's beautiful <3 #thanks for the tag!!

[little-peril-stories]

I love you “unlikeable” female characters I love you rude girls I love you mean women I love you girl interpretations of the “Asshole with a Heart of Gold” trope I love you women who get labeled Cold and Unfeeling I love you girls who lash out I love you women who lie I love you female characters who make people mad just by existing

#women who lie 🥰 #;)

[little-peril-stories]

NEW VERSION. :)

#I picked #but it was a hard #it’s not true #Not really #I love every single one #polls #lotr