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#trod fic
insanityislife101 · 2 months
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@bamsara I made TROD art in MS paint. I didn't want to put the work into the ichor stains so I used arrows and stars. it's close enough.
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bamsara · 6 months
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Death's Temple
Some art for some scenes I'm writing for much later
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gh0st-b0und · 4 months
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I’m so in love with this small interaction i just had to draw it
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From @bamsara ‘s fic :]
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valintinedump · 7 months
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MORE SILLY
I'm going insane and @bamsara's art and fic is dragging me further down this hole. Narinder's design and just,,,everything is HEAVYLY based off of the way Bam writes and draws him. ples please PLEASE go check out their stuff, its all very good and pretty.
close ups :D
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oh no
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he's being domesticated
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nottaclys · 2 months
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Finally up to date on @bamsara TROD au, highly recommend it, it's *chef's kiss* just the kind of fic that scratches that brain itch lol
Drew this quick doodle of Lambert and Narinder.
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coreplush · 4 months
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as you can see i am having the normalest time of it right now (trod owns my entire soul)
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suokumi · 6 months
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After three days of work, I was finally able to finish this reference
This is my interpretation of Narinder's scythe from "The Rehabilitation of Death" by @bamsara
the process is under the cut
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the description is taken from the fifth chapter of trod, the art used as a reference is by BamSara
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the art used as a reference is by BamSara
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the art used as a reference is by BamSara
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the symbol work still needs more research that I will do later, as I couldn't find enough references online, I will take my sweet time gathering all symbols from the game myself another time
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my little pony transfem pregnant mare piss kink. I shouldn't have to explain myself further, you get it.
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pocket-goat · 2 months
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you ever read a fanfiction SO good and perfectly in character that you just can't read anything else now. like this is peak where do i go from here.
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eqt-95 · 2 months
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what WIP are you most excited about?
not sure, but it's probably not one i'm personally writing.
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bamsara · 7 months
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some scenes in my head for my fic. emotional support lamb.
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lestatdelioncourte · 1 year
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omg!!! new chapter!!! 7 months later!!!
new chapter of my parallel universe hannigram fic in which will has some...dark thoughts. so so pleased to finally have this out!
Fic summary:
He is falling...
Will Graham falls off a cliff in the arms of Hannibal Lecter, finally accepting the darkest parts of himself. He wakes up, uninjured and in Hannibal's bed in his old Baltimore house. Confused, Will quickly realises something is wrong and has to navigate a new reality: one where Hannibal Lecter is not a killer, where they have made a life together without any of the familiar horrors. It is his ideal world...isn't it?
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soupdots · 2 years
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read chapter 8 of my fic or the collateral damage side character gets it 👩🏻🔫
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screampied · 2 months
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Servant who is in love with Sukuna and he finally gives her a "taste" of himself, but then she cums quickly and without permission and gets punished to overstimulation 😭 drabble or fic I'd be very happy either way
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❤︎ ໋𓈒 sukuna punishing his favorite servant
warnings. fem! reader, size kink, spit, cowgirl, impact play, degredation, mdni.
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“hmph. woman. come here,” he’d say in a gruff voice, two simple words and he had you at your very mercy. as you trod your feet towards him, the last thing you expected was for sukuna to give you a kiss. the kiss was passionate with such roughness attached to it, you moaned before feeling the king’s hand wrap around your throat. he was always so handsy too, especially with you. sukuna was merely fooling around, yet as for you, you were deeply in love with him.
stupid, perhaps. but you craved his attention.
it’d be simplistic things like that, it always started with a kiss. a kiss that never failed to leave you speechlessly dumbfounded.
his taste, you were entirely obsessed with it. a sweetness that forever lingered off his tongue. you couldn’t describe it into words, but it was purely appetizing.
as of currently though, you’d be sat on his lap whilst he’s manspread on his throne. it was awfully quiet, just the two of you.
you’re hovering over his hardened length before breathing in a single breath. “sukuna,” you’d pout, and he’s just blankly staring at you coldly—an unreadable expression, although he found your consistent pouting to be oddly amusing. humans were so fascinating to him. “can i touch myself now?”
“little girl,” he tsks, a hand going around your hip. your breathing hitches from his touch before you’re just hovering barely over his leaky tip now. “it’s sir to you. and what did i tell you about asking stupid questions, hm?”
“but ‘kuna,” you’d frown, and he loathed hearing you have the audacity to shorten his name. he told you to address him as something otherwise, and you completely steered clear from it.
quite the brat you were.
stupid stupid stupid…
but he secretly loved it, only you could get away with something like that. anyone else with the balls would find themselves practically dead. perhaps sukuna has somewhat of a soft spot for his servant, but of course he’d never mention that to you, not in a million years.
“but nothing,” he snarls, and you moan once you start to slowly sink yourself down into his length. so thick, you already started to feel your salivating. sukuna brings a hand to grip your chin, and he makes you stare right into his eyes. “touching is deserved. you gotta deserve it, get it?”
“no,” you grumble, and he smirks.
“well boo hoo, too fuckin’ bad,” he speaks in a raspy tone, and his words alone were enough to have you sopping wet.
it was embarrassing, you were embarrassing…
you didn’t care though, your arms wrap around his neck before you start to gradually grind yourself against him. his shaft stood tall, and for a split second you could feel him pulsate the further he deepens himself into you. your walls grip him tightly like a vice, and it makes him poke a tongue into his hollow cheek.
“mhmm,” he groans, the utter feeling of your cunt swallowing him whole always gets to him.
forever entangled with your warmth, you spot his fangs poke out with his maw slightly opened and it’s cute. you could just about make out a dimple or two on the king’s face. “don’t look at me, move your hips ‘n make yourself u-useful.”
a stutter, you merely giggle but you didn’t wanna test your luck. at least not just yet.
cruel darkened irises stare into yours the entire time, and it takes a good moment until you’re finally in. it makes him gnaw on his lip at how warm you were from the inside. already soaked and ready for him, he leans further back against the material of his throne before grunting.
“…move,” he sighs, gifting your ass with a mean abrupt spank. “you wanted to ride me so ride me, girl.”
you quavered, feeling your cunt twitch and spasm all from the way he sank into you.
it was so lewd, you buried your face into his neck and he just rolls his eyes before an awkward hand pats your head.
“s-so biiiig,” you’d whimper out, and whilst he’s going even further by filling you full of such thick sultry inches, you whine. the feeling of being split in two with your wetness—your love cave that had him addicted made you let off the sweetest gasp. he’s resuming to bury himself into you, and the minute you create up a swift tempo—your knees were ready to just about buckle.
it’s entirely cute, you felt him twitch from the inside and you couldn’t help but slump further into his broad chest.
sukuna snickers at your … interesting durability so to speak.
all the way in and not even moments later—you were fairly worn out. just about. “awh. tapping out on me already i see?” he purrs in a sly tone, a teasing gesture of his hand runs down your back. “and you were so confident earlier too. oh, how disappointing..”
“n—no, i can take you,” you mumble with glossy lips, and his touch against your skin made you let off repetitive soft spoken moans. a thumb of his strokes against the corners of your waist as you rutted yourself back and forth. your rhythm was purely hypnotic, entirely so that it makes him groan for a bit.
his fat tip prods against your slick outer labia and it runs against your entrance. he likes to do a certain motion—pulling out, only to stuff you right back full, he wants you to feel it. feel him and all of his inches, his girth that consumes into your cunt. as he’s stuffing you so full, you can’t help but drool a bit. a bit as in a lot. sukuna’s eyes linger towards you for a long time before he grips your chin once more.
“can you really…?” he hums, and it’s as if he’s challenging you. “or are you just saying that?”
you glare and he only returns with a subtle smirk, he liked getting under your skin. it was his favorite pastime, irking those cute nerves of yours. from the inside, he couldn’t get over how soft you were. such warm walls hugging all around him so tightly, it felt natural. your sopping wet cunt grips against him time and time again—squelch after squelch that it sounds like a melodic harmony.
a lewd melodic harmony.
he watches as your lips part, and you’re struggling to conceal those moans. you whimper from each thrust that it’s got your thighs growing numb in no time.
“f-fuckkk,” you’d whine, feeling sukuna’s cock briefly pull back from your wet folds. whenever he did that, it felt so good…. too good. sukuna’s hefty base thwacked against you in the process too, on loop, a constant salacious repeat. it had you dizzy, you’re grinding and swiveling your hips at such a hectic pace that you can’t even stop yourself. your mouth felt dry, just being sweetly stretched over nothing but a mere squeezing muscle from the inside.
it’s so hot tempered, your warmth had him kissing his teeth in such arousal, such pleasure.
“sukunaaa,” you’d whine once his dick runs against the corners of your inner walls, all throughout your canal. he reaches everywhere, he’s lengthy too, so there’s not a single spot that he misses. he slides in and out, and his base was so fat and thick, so full that it just mimics your movements of being hit against. “i— i’m gonna,” and you abruptly get cut off with a rough kiss.
your moans slither its way into his mouth as your hands ran down his ripped chest, feeling against his tatted body. the battle scars that perfectly painted his broad figure like a canvas, you return the kiss before he precipitously pulls away. a glossed string of spit departs, and sukuna glares at you. “wait, girl.”
and it sounds more like a warning than anything.
his tone being hidden with such baritone underneath it, you were even more soaked. whenever he pitched his tone to show his dominance like that, his authority—you felt yourself pulse for the umpteenth time.
he tells you to wait, but instead you do the exact opposite.
you don’t even realize you came all on his cock until he’s greeting you with the most livid glare imaginable—still, sukuna grabs your hips before muttering. “did you just cum? and don’t lie to me, woman.”
if you aren’t twitching as much as you were before, you certainly were now. the air felt thick, and whilst you straddled him, you shyly reply with a mumbling, “…sorry.”
you don’t mean to giggle after that…
but you do—the soft smile that curls against your lips meets his gaze and sukuna suddenly makes himself pull out. “so funny, huh?” and you’re taken by surprise the moment he makes you part your legs. his right thigh goes between your legs from underneath and you moan once he spanks you. “some fuckin’ audacity you have. ain’t no one told you to finish,” and he grips your chin, giving it a squeeze. “look at me when i speak to you, woman.”
he was so close you could just kiss him. your lashes were half-lidded, and you were so drawn into him that you don’t even realize that he’s shoved two fingers into your cunt. you moaned at how easily it goes in. he swirls his digits inside just briefly, taking it out before bringing it towards your mouth. “open your mouth ‘n stick out your tongue, brat.”
you were amused, aroused too but surely amused.
without question, you loll out your tongue in front of him, only for sukuna to shove his fingers right down your throat. you moan at the candied taste of yourself, so sweet. he remains with a glare on his face as you lapped up his fingers clean, you weren’t supposed to be enjoying that.
“such a disobedient girl,” he huffs, and that’s when he pulls out his fingers, a sheen stringy coat of your own saliva dribbles down your chin before he smears it all over your mouth.
“since you wanna be a impatient whore, that’s all the taste you’ll be getting today. ‘m expecting a thank you, little girl. go on, i’ll wait.”
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dustofthedailylife · 8 months
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How to Steal the Duke's Heart 101
→ Masterlist || → Taglist -> Next Part
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Pairing: Wriothesley x (gn!) Reader
Summary: The moment your verdict was decided as guilty you were brought to the Fortress of Meropide - despite being innocent. Little did you know that the trip to prison would make you meet the love of your life.
Tags: Fluff, kissing, you're in prison (but innocent), some violence (not graphic), swearing
A/N: Due to me being utterly normal about Wriothesley I had the idea for this fic - who am I kidding I would commit a crime for this man.
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“According to the judgment of the Oratrice Mechanique d’Analyse Cardinale, the defendant is declared… guilty.”
The voice of Chief Justice Neuvillette was ringing in your ears as he read out the verdict. Your verdict.
You couldn’t believe it. You knew you hadn’t done what you had been accused of, that the eyewitnesses had lied the moment they had opened their mouths, that the evidence had been tampered with, that you had been framed for the crime – but you were innocent. And no one was ever going to believe you. 
After all, the device that had handed you the fateful false verdict was treated as infallible in Fontaine. You now at least had proof that its reputation was nothing but hollow words. But what use was the knowledge other than just a bittersweet confirmation for no one but yourself? 
And before you knew it, guards were escorting you out the back of the Opera Epiclese in handcuffs. Roughly dragging you along with them into a big elevator. Down – deeper and deeper into the depths of the ocean.
You had heard stories of the Fortress of Meropide before – the secluded place where all criminals and outcasts of Fontaine resided. The place no one had ever come back from to tell the tale. At least not in one piece.
You weren’t sure how you felt on the way down the elevator but you would describe it as something akin to hollowness.
The glances the guards threw your way out of the corner of their eyes literally screamed disgust. You were nothing more than a dirty criminal to them after all – someone who was to be shunned and banished from society for all eternity. And if you really had done what you were convicted for, you wouldn’t even blame them for their disdain.
When the elevator arrived at the bottom the doors opened with a mechanical hiss. The scent of machine oil, iron, and damp moldy cellars immediately pricked at your nose and it was the exact opposite of what you’d call homely. 
The guards turned you in at the reception, where a rather unpleasant woman took your mugshots before handing you over to yet another rather unfriendly man who led you even further down into the Fortress.
With every new step you took, you tried to come to terms with the fact that the sight of damp, stone, and ironclad walls as well as the lingering industrial smell was going to be your life from now on. 
And the dawning realization of that was painfully pulling a tight rope around your throat. You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry and most of all, you wanted to run away and pretend like all of this was a bad dream. But you couldn't.
Instead, you were trodding behind the man who was escorting you and silently began to cry as big beads of tears soon began rolling down your cheeks.
"Crying won't help you anymore, sweetheart." The man remarked almost mockingly as soon as he looked back over his shoulder at your defeated frame. "Should've thought about that before you did some shit."
No. You’re wrong. I'm innocent.
At least that was what you wanted to spit back at him. But it was as if any fierceness or strength to stand up for yourself had left you the moment you set foot into this prison. You simply had no strength left to fight.
You soon arrived in a gigantic circular room. The contraption in the middle almost looked like a giant engine, elevators were going up one level on one side and even further down on the other side of the room. The ceiling was so high up that you almost couldn't make it out at all. The light was dim and the only real light sources were yellow lanterns whose light was bouncing off of the copper-colored iron pipes, crates, and frames that lined the entire room. Gloomy would probably be the best way to describe it.
The pungent smell of oil and damp cellar was hanging in the air here as well and probably even more prominent than it had been before. Only now it was also mixed with what you thought was old sweat and… tea? The smell of the latter seemed oddly out of place and you couldn't make out where exactly it was coming from. All you knew was that it was probably the only pleasant smell you had encountered down here.
Taking the elevator up one level again the man you had been following this entire time led you into a side hallway that looked more like a vent pipe. The dimly lit room that was lying behind it was only furnished with a bunk bed and a barely functioning lantern. He unlocked your handcuffs before roughly shoving you into the room with a smug grin on his face.
"Make yourself at home." He chuckled mockingly before turning around on his heel and leaving while whistling a tune to himself that eerily echoed off the stone walls.
You lay down on the bed, exhaling in defeat. Your throat still felt like someone had painfully tied it shut and tears were dangerously pricking at the corners of your eyes. 
Now what?
You had no idea what to do here aside from sitting your time off. Where do you get food? Were you supposed to work and if yes, where do you have to and when?
You closed your eyes as a single tear escaped from the corner of your eyes, rolling down your cheek, dampening the pillow you lay on. 
All you heard around you were wet droplets falling from the ceiling onto the wet stone floor, distant voices from down below, and your own breathing. The only thing that drowned these sounds out were the thoughts in your head. 
Now that you had a quiet moment to yourself after everything that had gone down today, the realization about your situation was beginning to seep in for good. This bed, these walls, the oily smell… this was going to be the rest of your life now.
And that’s when you broke down and started crying once again.
Eventually, you must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing you knew was waking up to the smell of food wafting through the air vent in front of your room. 
You got up from the bed, took the elevator down, and followed the smell. Soon you found yourself standing in front of a Cafeteria, where fellow inmates were queuing for lunch. Or was it dinner? You’ve barely even been here a day, but the distinct lack of daylight already made you lose track of time.
You sighed and walked over, queuing for some food as well. You didn’t have any appetite but you knew you had to eat something and your grumbling stomach was screaming for food, appetite be damned. Much to your dismay, the food needed to be paid for, well, at least the stuff that looked digestible.
You ordered the only free option and sat down with the bowl of grayish, funky-looking liquid whose consistency was more akin to that of wallpaper paste. It didn’t look appetizing, but at least it was free and would prevent you from starving.
Just as you were about to lift the first spoon of gooey pap in your mouth, someone sat down at your table, making you halt your movement for a brief second. 
He placed his tray on the table with a loud bang before plopping down on the bench right in front of you. His food looked tremendously more high quality than yours. Your mouth began watering from just looking at it. Freshly made roast potatoes with rosemary, fluffy pieces of baguette with salted butter, a big juicy piece of meat – grilled to perfection, and a glass of mousse au chocolat.
He leaned forward, supporting himself on the table with his elbows, folded his hands and intensely looked at you with his piercing blue eyes. It seemed like he wasn’t in a hurry to start eating any time soon.
You pretended to ignore him and began eating. The soup, which could vaguely be identified as lentil soup, left a slimy feeling on your tongue and tasted completely bland. Every fiber of your body told you to spit it back out again but with enough willpower, you actually managed to swallow it. Not without pulling a grimace first though.
“You’re new here.” The stranger in front of you observed with curiosity.
You looked up at him, nodding slowly shoveling another spoonful of goo in your mouth before going back to ignoring him. You weren’t really interested in trying to make connections here. All you wanted was to get out of here again – even though you knew deep down that the likelihood of that was nearing zero.
“Adapting well?” He inquired, still not in a hurry to touch his food.
You suspiciously looked up at him. There was just something about this guy that was off. He didn’t quite fit in here at all. He was admittedly very handsome. He looked well groomed and his attire was way too pompous to be an inmate - or maybe he was some rich guy who got some sort of special treatment down here. Every other inmate was avoiding your table and people looked at him with an almost reverent look in their eyes. If it wasn’t for the scars that seemed to cover the majority of his body already, this just further confirmed your gut feeling to avoid this guy at all costs in the future.
“I’ll take that as a no.” He chuckled, eyeing you further with a smirk plastered on his lips.
“What do you want?” You asked, now slightly annoyed.
“Just trying to strike up some friendly conversation. You know, seeing how lost you were while ordering food, not knowing about tickets, and just dashing around like a scared blubberbeast, led me to believe that no one gave you a rundown of how this place works. So, allow me?” He remarked with that same smirk.
When you wordlessly motioned for him to continue, he began explaining the workings and rules down here in detail. Unspoken rules, general rules, what and who to avoid, how jobs worked, work times, payment and money, general daily schedule, and a lot more. There was simply so much you were beginning to feel lightheaded as soon as he had finished speaking and you could feel the lump in your throat grow in size with every minute that passed. You would never be able to live here.
“That should about cover the basics.” He finished explaining as you swallowed thickly.
You opened your mouth in order to speak but he swiftly lifted his finger to shut you up. 
“No need to say anything. I know it’s not easy to adapt to a new environment. Especially not one you feel trapped in. But that feeling will fade eventually. Trust me.” He threw you a genuine smile before lifting himself up from the bench and pushing his tray with the food in your direction, pointing at it with an offering gesture.
“Welcome to the Fortress of Meropide.” He said, before striding away.
“Wait-” You jumped up from the table causing him to halt in his tracks and turn around once more. “What’s your name?”
“Wriothesley.”
After this strange encounter with the mysterious and admittedly attractive man, you didn’t see him around for a long while. This came as a surprise because you’d assume someone with his looks and attire would stick out like a sore thumb wherever he went. But it was as if the ground itself had swallowed him.
You wanted to see him again, mostly because you thought you could learn from him for your life down here. And despite your gut telling you that he was a walking red flag you had developed a strange curiosity for him.
You had begun working at the ship dockyard where a big window was offering a view into the ocean. You could somewhat make out the sky and time of day from there and it was the only thing that kept you from going completely insane in here. All you had done was sleep, work, eat, and repeat since you came here. Some people had tried speaking to you and some asked what you were here for, but you didn’t have any interest in conversing with them – especially not after you had tried telling someone that you were innocent and they had just laughed at you. Needless to say, you had no desire to connect with people – although he was the only exception seeing as you were craving to talk to him again, as much as you tried to deny it.
Today you were working at the docks again and found yourself longingly staring out of the large window. Your mind drifted off and you wondered how it would feel to simply swim back up to the surface where your lost freedom lay.
“Beautiful view, isn’t it?” A familiar voice reached your ears from behind. 
“Wriothesley!”
The man in question walked up to you and came to a halt right next to you. He looked out through the window himself before looking at you from the corner of his eyes with a slight smirk.
“Still longing for the surface?” He inquired, crossing his arms over his chest. “It never fully goes away but once you get used to the Fortress you’ll find yourself unable to want to leave.”
“Is that so?” You ushered quietly, scoffing. You were simply unable to believe him, not when your freedom had been taken unjustifiably. 
“Thank you for the food the other day, by the way. I didn’t have a chance to thank you yet.” You attempted to divert the topic.
“Don’t mention it.” He waved dit off with an unwavering smile. “It is almost time for lunch, have you eaten yet? We could head to the Cafeteria together. My treat.”
“Oh, you absolutely don’t have to, I have enough credits for food now that–”
“Please. I insist.”
And so you found yourself sitting at the table with Wriothesley again, with the most exquisite meal that tickets could buy down here. 
You were surprised he was able to fork over nearly four thousand credits to buy the meals as if they were nothing. And especially since he treated you to such a meal as well, while everyone else down here held onto their credits as if their life depended on it. And of course, you also didn’t miss the stares of the others again when you sat down with your fancy meal.
You carefully eyed the food and then Wriothesley as if you didn’t deserve to be treated to something like this. He looked back at you with a genuine smile as he continued nibbling on his baguette.
“Anything wrong?” He asked with curiosity.
“No. It’s just… why–?”
“Why am I treating you to something?” He raised an eyebrow in amusement as if he had read your thoughts. You nodded slowly in reply.
“You’re interesting. That’s all there is to it.” He admitted with a smirk.
“I’m interesting? Me?” You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “You say that when you’re the one I could say that about. You don’t look like you fit in here at all, you have a truckload of credits to spend, and everyone here looks at you like you own the place.” 
You paused for a second, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’ve been here for a long time already, haven’t you?”
“You… could say that, yeah.” He replied with a chuckle, dipping his baguette into the rich sauce on his plate.
“Why are you here?” You continued prying.
“You’ll find out soon enough.” He replied with a smug grin before he continued eating.
You couldn’t quite decide if he was a red flag you should run as far away from as possible or if you wanted to get to know him closer. But either way, your first priority for now was not letting the food go to waste so you began eating the heavenly-tasting meal.
A silence settled between you two that was surprisingly pleasant as you both quietly ate with the occasional glace thrown at each other. 
Once you were both done he took your tray with him to put it into the tray cart before turning back around with a smile.
“Same time tomorrow?” He asked.
“U-uh… yeah, sure. I don’t see why not.” You stammered a bit taken aback, still confused as to why he wanted to hang out with you so much. You were a nobody with nothing to your name – not even a criminal record technically.
“Great. See you tomorrow then.”
And with that, a habit would slowly form. You would meet up for lunch each day and not long after, also for dinner. He often picked you up at the docks and bought a meal for you and only sometimes you were able to deter him from doing so and insisted that you bought your own since you were genuinely beginning to feel bad even if he seemed well off. 
You sometimes sat down for a long time talking even after you both had finished eating. You chatted just about anything and as it would turn out you two seemed to share similar interests. You found out he really loved tea and had extensive knowledge in that regard. And it just so happened that you too were a fellow tea aficionado. Not only that though, you two shared a similar taste in music, books, food, and more. After a couple of weeks had gone by it felt like you had already been friends for the longest time. And much to your surprise, not once had he attempted to ask you why you were here or pried into your private life.
On another such day, you were just heading out of the dormitories towards the Cafeteria to meet up with him. But before you could arrive there someone forcefully yanked you behind some iron crates. You crashed against them with the back of your head with a loud bang, momentarily losing consciousness as pain shot through your system.
"What kinda big shot are ya, huh? What're ya sitting for?" A man yelled at you aggressively. 
As soon as you got a grasp of your surroundings again, even though now extremely dizzy, you saw a big bulky guy with a missing front tooth who was pinning you against the boxes by your throat with an iron grip. He was accompanied by two other, less muscular guys who were staring at you in the same aggressive manner. His lackeys, you assumed.
"I have- I have no idea… what you're talking about." You struggled the words out due to the applied pressure on your vocal cords.
"What're ya here for, asshole?!" The man yelled at you even louder now, a few beads of spit flying right into your face through his tooth gap.
"I… I didn't do anything. I–" You gasped breathlessly as you clutched your hands around the hand around your throat, trying to alleviate some of the pressure being applied to it.
"Bullshit! You don't land here for twiddlin’ ya thumbs counterclockwise. And if the Duke's got the eye on ya already, ya've to be some VIP or some shit!" The toothless man spit on the ground between your feet.
“Duke?” You asked confusedly. 
“Tch, don’t fuck with me here, shut ya trap. Now, tell me. What’ve ya done? Be honest or I might’ve’ta polish your visage a lil’.” He viciously cackled in unison with his two lackeys who were cheering on him.
“I didn’t. Do. Anything.” You bit back through clenched teeth, putting a strong emphasis on each word. And before you were able to react, a stinging pain shot through your system as a fist connected with your face, sending your head flying back against the crate once again.
You immediately began to see stars and could feel your consciousness quickly fade away. The ringing in your ears and the accompanying dizziness from the impact was overbearing everything and all you could make out before you passed out was a flash of white light and pleas for mercy. Then everything faded to black.
The next thing you knew was waking up with a bandage around your head and an intense migraine. You felt like a horde of boars had trampled over you. The omnipresent pain got worse when you instinctively tried to sit up on the bed you found yourself on.
You hissed in pain and immediately felt a pair of big hands push you back into the fluffy bedding.
“Stay.” 
You recognized this voice. You had heard it so often in the past couple of weeks that, despite your delirious state, you had no issue placing it.
“Wriothesley.” You uttered weakly with your eyes still closed.
“Yes, it’s me. I’m here.”
He took hold of your hand with a reassuring squeeze and the feeling of his warmth on your skin made you feel tingly all over and the all-present pain immediately felt like it was being alleviated ever so slightly. Out of all people you were glad it was him by your side.
“What? Where?” You rasped, attempting to slowly open your eyes.
“We’re in a separate room at the Fortress Infirmary. Someone roughed you up real good and you fell unconscious. I arrived just in time to prevent worse. You’ll probably have a nasty bruise on your face for a while and you’ve got quite the concussion as well as a cracked rib. But nothing some bed rest and a good cup of tea wouldn’t be able to fix, hm?” He tried to reassure, brushing a strand of hair out of your forehead.
"Your Grace, here is the medicine you asked for." A guard suddenly came rushing into the infirmary with a small satchel that he handed to Wriothesley before quickly leaving again after a courteous bow towards the man by your side.
You furrowed your brows in confusion at the display of submissiveness of the guard towards a fellow prisoner when you've been treated with nothing but disdain and… wait a minute.
Your Grace. The looks he got from the others during lunch and dinner time. The Duke. It's him?!
The memories suddenly came rushing back to you – how you had been slammed into the metal crates, how the toothless man had mentioned the Duke while threatening you and how his fist had then ultimately painfully kissed your face.
You didn't have all the puzzle pieces to connect everything into a clear image yet but it was enough to feel that there was an epiphany just mere millimeters out of your range.
You startled and sat up on the bed with wide-blown eyes once more as pain shot through you again from the abrupt movement. Pain so bad you thought you would have to throw up for a second.
"I-I… your Grace? The Duke? It's you! He meant you and– who? W-what?! I-I– he threatened me and I-I'm innocent. I don't belong here I–I'm innocent–" You incoherently stammered nonsense because your mouth couldn't match up with the speed at which your thoughts were racing.
Just who was he?
But before you got to properly ask that question a pair of soft lips gently connected with yours, rendering you speechless and cutting off the words that were spilling from your mouth relentlessly like water from a leaky faucet. He squeezed your hand a little tighter while the other gently found comfort on your cheek. Cradling it so carefully as if you're the finest piece of porcelain in the world and could break any minute.
The gentleness of his touch, the warmness of his lips, and the smell of Earl Grey on his breath made your body explode into a sea of fireworks. It wasn't until this moment that you realized you had developed feelings for Wriothesley that went beyond the casual acquaintance you met up with after work for food in the prison cafeteria. It was just that you had been too occupied and lost in your own thoughts about your predicament to realize it.
Your curiosity and cravings to see him more and more often weren’t just born from a place of loneliness. Your heart had craved for him all this time.
Your hands found comfort in his hair as you leaned into the kiss more, prying a low chuckle out of him and you felt him smirk against your lips.
"I know you are." He whispered against your lips when he separated from you again.
"What?" You asked in confusion, already forgetting what he was replying to.
"That you're innocent."
"N-no I don't mean just in this case… I didn't commit any crimes I was sent here despite being innocent I-" 
You didn't even realize you had started crying until he gently wiped a tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb. 
"I know." He reiterated firmly.
You looked up in his face and his eyes were filled with nothing but sincerity. He must be the first person you ever encountered who didn't see the sentence of the Oratrice Mechanique d’Analyse Cardinale as infallible and unquestionable.
"How?" You quietly breathed out in disbelief.
"I knew it on the first day I saw you. My beliefs were just further confirmed when I talked to you for the first time. I've been working behind the scenes to get you out of here again ever since." He admitted, wiping another stray tear from your cheek.
That's why he was gone for days after your first meeting and suddenly arrived again behind you at the docks.
"You went above ground?" You rasped, making the question of who he actually is even bigger.
He nodded, taking your hands in his and placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles.
Is that why he also said you would find out who he is soon enough that one day? But you still didn't know… who actually is he?
"How are you allowed to go out? Who are you?"
"You still didn't figure it out?" He smirked. "I'm Wriothesley. Warden of the Fortress of Meropide." 
And at that moment everything fell like scales from your eyes.
His attire, the looks of other prisoners, the abundance of tickets to spend, randomly disappearing for days, the Duke… the Cryo Vision dangling from his shoulder despite not being allowed to carry any in here.
He was the one who saved you earlier.
He must've noticed your glance because he squeezed your hands a little tighter and reassured you: "They won't ever bother you again. I took care of it."
You didn't dare ask what he meant by that and simply nodded in acceptance.
"I can also tell you that things are going well. I pulled some strings and you might be out of here by the end of the week again with no criminal record to your name."
But what if you actually didn't want to leave anymore? At least not without him.
"Will I be able to see you again?"
A question that spilled out of your mouth before you could properly think about it. But the deafening silence that followed told you everything you needed to know. He rarely left the underground and was occupied down here most of the time so the possibility of you and him seeing each other again was low.
"Certainly." He replied after a while avoiding looking into your eyes.
A white lie. He wanted you to return to your old life again, out of the confines of this prison you had unjustifiably been thrown in. He didn't want to keep you here only for the selfish desires of his heart that he had unplannedly given to you along the way. Maybe he would find a way to be with you once you returned, maybe he didn't – But that didn't mean he couldn't indulge in what you had for the remaining time you were here with him.
And that's when he pulled you closer once more, one hand resting on your waist, gently massaging your skin through the fabric of your shirt while reuniting your lips as if it was the last thing he would ever get to taste.
And maybe, if it was what it took to see him again, you wouldn't mind actually committing a crime.
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Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.
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bloodybanjostrings · 9 days
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Just a sketch of a scene from @bamsara 's TROD fic lolol sorry for infrequent posting I feel like I should mention I'm chronically ill and can't make much rendered art at a time but I'm like obsessed with this game and fic so there will still be a lot of sketches
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