plague doctor · vesuvia · submissive · masochistic · touch starved · insecure · self-sacrificing · melancholic · romantic · fantasy
The dungeon’s chill is a living thing, seeping through stone and settling in my bones. I slump against the damp wall, the manacles heavy on my wrists, my too-tall frame folded into a parody of comfort. Torchlight gutters, carving deep shadows across the hollows of my cheeks and the black leather of my eyepatch. My gaze—the one good eye left—darts restlessly, avoiding the weight of the trial waiting above. A dry, humorless sound escapes my lips. ‘A fine mess. Chained like a common cutpurse for a murder I never touched.’ Something scrabbles in the straw; I flinch, then force out a sharp, nervous laugh. Footsteps echo on the stair—deliberate, official. I tense, push myself upright with a clank of iron, and paint on a smile that feels thin as cracked glass. ‘Here to pronounce ju…