Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There was a new prisoner in Meropide, and although Wriothesley was known for treating all prisoners equally, no matter the crimes he had committed, this was different. This was hell.

He worked as hard as possible to make the inmates' life a living hell. Giving him the worst jobs and food. Doing anything else he could possibly do without hurting him directly.

Wriothesley turned a blind eye to most crimes committed, they were still people after all. Everyone was human, at least in a way. Except people like this. 

Perhaps they didn’t even deserve to be called human. ‘Monster’ was probably a better description of these kinds of beings. Mother and Father were also monsters. Too disgusting and vile to be considered human.

As much as Wriothelsey would have loved to have the man’s blood on his hands, that would lead to more paperwork that he didn’t have the mental capacity to handle. He was strung tightly enough as is.

He was able to hold it together for a little over a week and a half. A week and a half of seeing a man who did things similar to the people who raised him. If you could even call them people.

At the end of the first week, Wriothesley knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. Every time he closed his eyes he could feel hands on his body, blood dripping down his arms, and the numbness that he thought he had gotten rid of so many years ago. 

He would fall asleep and wake up minutes later, barely making it to the bathroom before his dinner from the night before was promptly thrown up. Sigewinne noticed, he was sure she did. But the little nurse had more patients to care for than ever after a series of incidents. Incidents that could have been avoided if he could get out of his fucking head and help.

After a few more days, there was an itching underneath his skin he hadn’t felt in so many years. It was the same feeling that almost led him to his death all those years ago. It was why he had almost bled out on the floor, alone. He had always been alone. Everything in his body wanted to listen to the feeling. Why was he still having these urges? His life is better now, he should be fine.

He had always put others before himself. He could afford to be a little selfish just this once. He could succeed at what he had failed before, free himself from the sensations and memories that haunted him.

Why had the gods chosen him? What had he done to deserve any of this?

He was going to be sick. It had been so long since it was this bad, but here he was. Would anyone even care if he was to die? Sure, he had some people who he might consider ‘friends’, but he didn’t see them often enough for them to miss him. Sigewinne might miss him, but she would be fine. 

The problems that would arise from his death weren’t something he was going to have to deal with anyways.

Wriothesley practically fell into the chair the moment he reached it, too focused on trying to ignore the growing nausea and the voices screaming in his head. 

He hadn’t even noticed that his breathing was speeding up dangerously and that his eyes had drooped closed until it was already too late.

He passed out, luckily sitting down. Maybe the world would be nice and grant him a dreamless sleep?

But the world had never been nice to him after all.

— — — — —

It had been a normal day. Well as normal as it got that is. Everything had gone decently, even Mother and Father had been nice.

So then why did everything feel wrong? He barely got back to his room after dinner before a hot feeling washed over his body. To top that, Mother had been giving him strange looks throughout dinner. Almost like she was expecting this.

That was a train of thought he didn’t want to go down, so he didn’t. But then there was a knock at the door and he froze in his tracks. Mother never checked up on the children after dinner. What was happening?

But the door swung open and there wasn’t any more time to think about it, because Mother was there. Everything was moving too fast, it was like his brain had been filled with sludge. But something must have happened because he was now in another room, lying naked on the bed.

“Now, darling, we have to get you used to this. I don’t want you to be afraid of whoever adopts you, and they will do this kind of thing.” Mother said. 

Then there was a cold sensation and th-

— — — — —

Chapter Text

Wriothesley bolted awake, nausea washing over him. He stumbled out of the chair, getting into the bathroom before what was left of his dinner came back up. Leaning against the wall, he tried to scrub the nightmare from his brain but the memories of that gods forsaken day wouldn’t leave him alone.

Sure, he had nightmares all the time, but nothing so vivid. He didn’t even want to think about it. The day his life went to shit.

It was all so disgusting to think about. 

What had he done to deserve this? All he could do now was live in his own personal hell.

He could feel the hands touching his body, the disgusting feeling of someone violating him. The worst part is that he had let it happen.

Sure, Wriothesley knew he shouldn’t feel like he did something wrong when he was the one hurt, but there had always been guilt eating at him. Maybe he wouldn’t have had to kill them, maybe he would never have gone to prison if he had fought back.

Deep down he knew that was bullshit, that mother had drugged him, he couldn't have fought back. It wasn’t his fault that he was brought up by pedophiles. But his mind had other ideas.

But it was too late for that now, all he could do was drown in regret. 

When Wriothesley was older, perhaps 19 or 20, a few prisoners had hit on him, attempting to hook up with him. But every time he would fight them or force them away from him. Even if they were nice, he couldn’t even think about sex without wanting to vomit.

After a while, people stopped trying. 

Some of the prisoners from that era probably were able to guess what had happened to him. As much as he tried to hide it, there were certain things that he did that probably hinted at it.

When Wriothesley was first imprisoned, he hardly ate. He knew it wasn’t logical, that the food wasn’t laced with something. But just accepting food from someone else made the feeling deep inside him stir. 

After a while, that led him to passing out from starvation and waking up in the infirmary to a very concerned Sigewinne. It wasn’t until she had offered to cook for him while he watched that he properly ate.

Sigewinne was probably the only reason he was alive. Scratch that, definitely. She was far too kind to him throughout the years, despite not knowing what happened to him she was always unreasonably compassionate and kind. He didn’t deserve her.

She was almost as if Celestia was like “Oh no! I’m so sorry I made your life a living hell for 14 years, take a Melusine to make up for it.”

Better than nothing he supposed. 

— — — — —

Sleep didn’t come any easier that night. Not like Wriothesley had expected it to, but he could wish. Instead he ended up sitting in thought, staring at the floor.

He would probably have to cancel his meetings tomorrow, and not from lack of sleep alone. Seeing anyone would probably be enough to make him sick at this point. His own reflection was enough to make him sick.

His appearance didn’t really fit him, Wriothesley supposed. He looked so much stronger than he was, he looked like someone who could fight when he couldn’t even fight the voices in his head or mother.

The scars on his body told stories he didn’t want to recall, the same things that were now clawing their way into the corners of his mind after dozens of years. They had haunted his sleep for years, but now they were making their appearance in his waking hours.

Oh yeah. His meetings. He could postpone a couple of them, but there was one that he would still have to attend. 

Neuvillette was coming down to the fortress to talk about a mixture of paperwork and the gate in the basement. The Iudex was far too busy to reschedule their meeting. He might say that he could reschedule their meetings, but Wriothesley knew that it was a hassle for him that the already busy Chief Justice shouldn’t have to deal with.

He was a hassle the Chief Justice shouldn’t have to deal with.

It would be fine. One meeting wouldn’t kill him. It hadn’t killed him before, at the very least. 

— — — — —

The meeting may not kill him, but the anxiety from it might. It was a half an hour away, why was he sitting at his desk thinking about every possible way that this meeting could go wrong? 

Everything was going to go wrong.

His thoughts were far too busy to notice the time passing by. Wriothesley didn’t even notice the knock on the door for gods sake. He only noticed the person in the room when his arm was tapped by whoever was in the room.

“DON’T TOUCH ME,” He practically yelled, anxiety getting the better of him. He turned around, ready to attack whoever was there. Whoever was ready to hur-

Neuvillette looked at him, concern evident in his face. “Your Grace? My apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you, but you weren’t responding to me.” 

It was Neuvillette. He almost attacked Neuvillette. What the fuck was wrong with him? (a lot)

“I- I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to yell at you. I was just thinking about stuff. Let’s forget that ever happened and let's get on with the meeting.” Wriothesley stuttered, trying to put on a smile but failing miserably. 

He seemed to consider what Wriothesley had said for a moment, thinking about his options before choosing not to press it. “I hope that you’re alright, but if you wish we can start our meeting.”

“Umm, yeah.” He said, lifting a hand to his neck. “Yeah we can continue, I’m alright,” Wriothesley said, attempting to hide the slight shake in his voice. Neuvillette didn’t seem to believe him but also didn’t continue questioning him which was good enough for Wriothesley.

— — — — —

Everything passed in a blur. Wriothesley had no idea what he agreed to or said, but he could care less. He just needed this meeting over so he could go back to sulking. 

It had been so long since he had snapped at someone like that. He was glad it was at Neuvillette, someone who was able to defend himself, compared to someone like Sigewinne or a guard. 

Wriothesley may have been a feared fighter and a murderer, but that didn’t mean he wanted to hurt someone who did nothing wrong. The Iudex had been nothing but kind to him for as long as Wriothesley had known him. He didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of Wriothesley’s aggression, however much unintentional.

He hadn’t even realized he was zoning out until Neuvillette was repeating his name. “Your Grace, something is wrong. If we need to reschedule the meeting that is fine. I may be busy but I can still make it work, I’d rather you take care of yourself.”

“Yeah, that may be good. I really do apologize though.” Wriothesley muttered, running a hand through his hair. 

“I may not be the best with human emotions and we may not be the closest, but I can listen if you need to talk to someone.” It took everything in Wriothesley not to laugh. Neuvillette didn’t know what he was getting himself into, truly.

“Monsieur, this is my problem to deal with, you don’t need to get involved in my shit.” Wriothesly said, trying to ignore the fuzzy feeling that Neuvillette’s worry gave him. It was… oddly endearing.

What the fuck was he thinking? He shouldn’t be thinking of useless things like love, he left those behind with his pride all those years ago. He left most of himself behind with his virginity.

At that thought, the all too familiar feeling of nausea washed over him. The disgusting sensation of mothers hand inside of him. 

Wriothesley screwed his eyes shut, curling up on himself as tightly as possible. All the sounds were too much, even the chair on his body felt awful.

“Wriothesley, you need to breathe. Nothing will hurt you, I’m here.” Neuvillette said, grabbing Wriothesley’s wrist in a way that everything in his body screamed was disgusting. But somehow he couldn’t bring himself to push him away either.

Maybe- maybe Neuvillette was safe. He was the Hydro Dragon Sovereign, nothing could hurt Wriothesley with him watching.

What was going on? He couldn’t place his trust so blindly in another. Yet here he was, grabbing tightly onto Neuvillette. 

“Now remember darling. You must never touch anyone, if they want to touch you they will do it.” The voice of mother ran through his head.

He pushed himself away from Neuvillette, missing the contact the second it was gone. But no, he wasn’t supposed to take anything. He was supposed to give, to be a toy for whoever wanted it.

And who would ever want him?

So then why did Wriothesley feel a hand cup his face, brushing away the tears he didn’t know were there? Why was he being sat down next to Neuvillette?

And why did he accept the contact when it should be disgusting? Maybe Neuvillette actually cared?

No. He was probably just doing this out of pity anyways. Neuvillette, the esteemed Chief Justice, the Hydro Dragon Sovereign, caring about a murderer like him?

A joke. Ridiculous, he didn’t even care about himself, why would someone so amazing, someone Wriothesley admired, care about him? 

Even though it was just pity… maybe he could cling to the comfort a bit longer. 

“Wriothesley,” Neuvillette started. Not his official title. Not even ‘Your Grace’, but his first name. “I want to hel-”

“You want to help? What a fucking joke.” Wriothesley said, insecurity making way to bitter remarks, a final defense around his mind. “Who would want to help me?”

Neuvillette looked taken aback, and that just served to give Wriothesley enough time to continue. “Don’t bother pretending to care out of pity. Leave. I don’t want you here.”

Neuvillette started to let go of him. Nononono he didn’t want this, Neuvillette meant safe. But he couldn’t get the words out, he could just watch as he stood up and looked at Wriothesley’s shaking figure.

“I apologize if I overstepped your boundaries, Your Grace. I’ll take my leave now.” Neuvillette said, a slight shake in his voice that Wriothesley tried to ignore.

He wanted Neuvillette back. He wanted- no, needed him to stay. But he pushed everyone away at one point or another. It was better to do it now than to let his heart break more further down the line.

Sure, some suppressed instinct in him wanted to stand up and wrap himself around the Iudex, but he had long ago learned to not listen to instinct.

So he let Neuvillette go. It was only after the door swung closed that he allowed himself to fully break. Out of sight of everyone, allowed to sit in his own regret.

He really ruined everything he ever had, didn’t he. He ruined his body; the blood dripping down his chest, the feeling of taking what he thought would be his final breath. His life; he had murdered mother and father , landing him in prison at 14. 

He couldn’t ruin his body more than almost killing himself. 

Oh that’s right. He almost killed himself. Another thing to add to the pile of things that no one knew about him. What was on that list now? He had been raped by his mother at the age of 8, had almost killed himself, and had regularly hurt himself for years.

He thought he had put those years past him, but now there was that itch under his skin, screaming at him to pick up a blade and press it to his skin. How stupid.

Why was he resisting? No one would ever know and he could free himself of all his worries, even if only for a few minutes.

As much as he wanted to resist these feelings in his body, to be strong and resist the urge, he was truly only human. A weak, lonely, useless human who craved to hurt himself.