#blot infection

[honkha]

❗❗DILA AND DEUCE BLOT INFECTION ❗❗

Bonus Riddle

"It's hard to breathe, but nothing hit Mum, did it?! Is she okay?! It hurts to open my eyes... but she pulls me close...? the hug feels good, I'm not as cold. I need to say something to make her realise I'm all right... Why is she crying? Mum, don't cry, please, it's not an excuse.... I've finally done something useful..."

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Bonus: Riddle.

I've really thought a lot about Riddle's future career as a doctor. I did an externship to become a surgeon.

Looking at the relationship with his mother, I think Riddle really loves her no matter what. in the canon story he didn't spoke ill of her or judged her methods so I don't think he would allow himself to do that as an adult.

They survived in a group Trey, Riddle and his mother. for the first few days and his mother got an infection that she tried to hide. after much deliberation he ended it personally.

[stpavlovsci]

so this is basically b8, right

[starlee246]

Infection au stages!!!

Backstory is here

After careful observation, we’ve managed to gather information on what we believe to be the six stages of the illness. 

•Days 1 - 6: Stage 1 - Contraction 

This stage starts from the moment the virus begins to infect the host.

In this stage it’s possible for the host to recover by themselves, but only if they haven’t taken any medication. 

Stage 1 patients have permission to access the whole school.

-Infection is obvious if the patient is bitten or came into contact with ink, which soaks through the skin, or contact with the infected, where it will manifest in the form of a black stain. This has been dubbed category A. 

-If the patient caught it from sharing fluids, the first symptom, hives, will show up an hour into catching it. Unlike regular hives, greyscale hives appear in greyscale blotches, hence the name. These hives quickly go away by themselves. This is known as category B. 

Other symptoms include:

-Loss of appetite

-mild discomfort of infected areas (A)

-showing symptoms similar to anaemia such as shortness of breath, dizziness when moving quickly and mild fatigue. 

-Using magic while infected is incredibly unwise as it only progresses illness. 

-Taking painkillers may alleviate symptoms temporarily but are not recommended as they extend the period of the first stage and deny chances of recovery. 

-Should the patient recover, it’s unlikely they’ll catch it again. Lasting effects are being studied on the surviving handful. 

-Category A infections are treatable via amputation if possible. 

•Stage 2 - Spreading. 

After roughly a week, the patient becomes contagious. Time periods of stages from here are irregular and vary wildly. They can no longer recover by themselves, but could recover with a cure, or amputations for category A. 

Patients are conscious and retain their personality, though may act out of character at times, occasionally behaving violently. Stage 2 patients must reside in either Octavinelle or Diasomnia for quarantining, but are permitted visitors. 

Those altering their bodies using potions such as merpeople, or fae hiding their features will be forced into their usual forms.

-Bodily fluids contain ink. Any tears, vomit or coughs will be riddled with infectious ink.

-infected areas will become irritated, black blotches spread and surrounding skin is greyscaled.(A)

-Fingertips start going black and hair will begin to go grey 

-recurring stomachaches (B)

-skin will start to go ashy

-extreme fatigue and weakness

-any food or drink consumed will end up getting thrown up. 

-their memories begin blurring. They forget things quickly and will get things wrong that they never usually would. 

Stage 3: Takehold

At this point, there’s nothing more we can do so far because we have no cure. The patient will only get worse from here. The patient is still conscious, but will sometimes act out of character, generally behaving on their negative traits. They still have humanity, though, so friends will be allowed final visits to say safe, proper goodbyes while they matter.

-entire limbs are stained black. 

-skin is significantly paler or ashier.

-prone to biting and other hostile behaviour at times. 

-beastmen and merpeople will show animalistic tendencies. 

-memory becomes significantly worse, often forgetting things they just did or things they’d never usually forget, even their names. 

-starvation due to inability to eat. 

-near inability to leave bed. 

-eyes lose colour, vision deteriorates. 

-internal ink buildup, manifesting as drool, vomit or cysts on the skin. 

-infected wounds will start opening, both from category A and other injuries infected with ink. 

-bad stomach and gastrointestinal pain (B)

Stage 4: mutation 

Originally confused as recovery after stage 3, due to regaining appetite and being able to move properly again. On the contrary, at this point, the body of the patient is half dead, the disease being what keeps them alive for the most part. From the beginning of this stage, patients become dangerous, generally hostile and should only be taken care of by the professionals. They are kept locked away at all times. The patient is fully conscious and has humanity left, but almost nothing remains of their original personality, as the illness is puppeteering their body a lot of the time. This stage would theoretically still be curable to an extent. 

-will frequently try to attack others

-skin and eyes are left completely monotone, any new hair is grey. 

-patients’ bodies will regain ordinary functions but continue to get thinner.

-near constant leaking of ink

-old, even uninfected wounds open up. 

-beastmen and merpeople’s animalistic traits become especially pronounced, both physically and in behaviour. 

-the body will show ‘mundane’ disfigurements such as hunching and scoliosis.

-muscle deterioration occurs.

-flesh starts to rot. 

-The patient becomes especially sensitive to pain. Painkillers can be used at this point to reduce inevitable suffering. 

-the patient starts losing the ability to speak properly

-magic no longer works on the patient

Stage 5: disfigurement 

At this stage, the body has died completely. It is past any hopes of curability. The patient is not who they once were. They are still semi conscious but completely locked out of their body, which is controlled by the illness. Patients are generally and ideally terminated at this.

-flesh is mostly rotten. 

-patient is unable to speak more than a few words. 

-the body goes completely numb. 

-the patient no longer listens to commands.

-the patient is now completely blind.

-levels of hostility vary from person to person but generally act violently towards the uninfected. 

-patient becomes unnaturally thin.

-entire body parts, generally limbs, may deteriorate. 

-most of the internal body other than bones are turned to ink. 

-skin becomes very thin and easy to puncture. Bones will often break through skin. 

Stage 6: final stage

The final stage of infection. 

The patient is not curable. The patient is no longer human. Even if they were once your friend, they won’t remember it. Kill them if you have the chance. Otherwise, run. 

-their internal workings are entirely replaced with ink.

-any deteriorated or generally cut off limbs grow back, often in the wrong place.

-puddles of ink form wherever they step.

-patients with unique magics are especially especially dangerous.

-Cannot speak. Some exceptions may repeat words or simple phrases.

-hostility level varies but they are now focused on spreading the infection.

[light-wrath-paradise]

My friend wanted me to make a Dreamcatcher version of the Animorphs Yeerks meme/sticker, but honest to god I have no better way to visually illustrate the Dreamcatcher aliens.

@first-and-last-neocount thought you might find this funny hgjhgjg

[twst-the-blot-au]

Creating the lore for The “Blot” AU rn

[argentinesunshine]

pining after periodic crush? crying over random lines in f1 rpf? horny as all getout? *checks brain switch* yup, someone set this thing to PMS

[ducksido]

I keep asking things but i love your writings so..

How would the boys react to a reader/yuu who got exposed to magic that much (much like radiation) so they can do magic, they just don't realize, or just don't care enough.

Like, thanks to the overblots they got exposed to raw magic so they have a minor, kinda unusefull, ability (or a UM); like how Sophie from Howl's Moving Castle can make objects do something by asking them to do it

(a Yuu who’s been marinating in overblot juice, i only did the first 3 dorms)

Riddle: Absolutely cannot cope. “This is irresponsible.” He thinks it’s blot poisoning. You’re behaving like a wild fae creature! You can’t just ask a teacup to stay warm and it obeys you! That’s rule-breaking! He desperately wants you to submit to magical testing. He’s convinced you’ll combust. When you assure him, “I only do it when it feels right,” he panics more.

Trey: He doesn’t really get it, but he believes you. When you ask the oven “please don’t burn the crust” and it doesn’t, he gives you this blank stare and says, “...Did it work because you said it… or because you meant it?” He starts speaking to his kitchen tools just to test it. “Yuu’s magic is like kitchen luck,” he mutters. He never burns pie after you compliment his apron.

Cater: “Okay, sooo… we’re not gonna talk about the fact that your bag literally zipped itself when you said thank you?” He’s obsessed. Posts cryptic Magicam pics like “Yuu’s magic is ✨aesthetic✨”. Tries to trick you into doing cool things on camera. When you refuse, he pouts. He also worries. Quietly asks if it hurts when you use your “gift.” It doesn’t. He’s relieved—but still watches you closely.

Ace: “THAT’S MAGIC! YOU’RE DOING MAGIC!” You insist you’re not. He’s shouting. He’s flustered because he’s working so hard in class and here you are getting vending machines to spit out free snacks. At some point he starts trying to mimic you. He whispers sweet nothings to his textbooks. He begs the dorm fridge to make his milk cold. It never works. He’s miserable. “Stupid ghost magic…”

Deuce: Completely convinced you’re some kind of ancient spirit in disguise. He becomes so respectful. Like, he calls you “Yuu-senpai” even when you’re the same age. He asks you to bless his pen before exams. You say, “Pen, do your best,” and hand it over. He’s nearly in tears. He’s also the most worried you’re going to get hurt. Keeps telling Crowley to investigate it properly. Nobody listens.

Leona: At first, he scoffs. “Tch. That’s not real magic. That’s just you sweet-talking junk.” But the third time he sees a broken piece of chalk start writing because you said, “Can you help me with this, please?”, he stops mocking you. Quietly, he starts observing. Deep down, it unsettles him—a powerless human who got infected with blot and now reality bends when you whisper to it. There’s something ancient about it. He’ll never admit it, but he once tried whispering to his pen. Nothing happened. He was furious. “...I ain’t jealous. Just sayin’ it’s weird, that’s all.”

Ruggie: “HUH?? Wait, wait, wait—you told a mop to clean and it did??” He’s both amazed and mildly horrified. You’ve got this uncanny ability and don’t care?! He thinks you’re lowkey a cryptid. He’d love to exploit it (in the name of efficiency), but the magic is temperamental. You told the vending machine, “I wish I had a soda,” and it spit one out. But when he tried it? It jammed. “Yuu... are you cursed or blessed? I can’t tell.”

Jack: Jack is stunned. A bit spooked. “You can’t just… ask the broom to sweep and it does it.” You say, “Well, it’s nice to the broom. It deserves help.” He’s silently terrified you’re going to overheat and overblot from it. He tries to subtly monitor your blot levels. It doesn’t rise. You’re just... like that. You make him nervous in the way people fear forest spirits—kind of awed, kind of reverent, kind of unnerved.

Azul: “...You’re not casting spells?” He doesn’t understand how you’re doing this. Is it residual blot? Contract-based? Unlicensed magic? He’s both interested in profiting off this and deeply nervous about it. He tries to ask you to teach him. You say “I don’t know how, I just ask nicely.” It both infuriates and fascinates him. Eventually he adds a clause in your Lounge employee contract: “If an object obeys your voice, you must log the incident.” You doodle smiley faces in the logbook and leave out important details. He’s having a stress-induced existential crisis.

Jade: He treats you like a spirit of the forest. He’s delighted. “You must have absorbed wild magic, Yuu. A kind of natural resonance. Fascinating.” He doesn’t try to study you directly—he studies your environment, your emotions, your words. He quietly logs the way you speak to objects. When you say “please,” he smiles to himself. He catches a knife once before it falls and asks, “Did you tell this not to hit the ground?” You blink. “Yeah.” “Charming.”

Floyd: Thinks it’s hilarious. “You said ‘go away’ to a squeaky door and it shut by itself! You're like a talking remote control.” He loves testing your limits. He’ll shout, “Yuu! Tell the vending machine to give me ten candy bars!!” When nothing happens, he whines, “You’re broken today.” But if you whisper to his hood to stay up during the rain, and it does, he just grins. “Creepy little shrimp~ I like it.”

[mommyslittlebird]

would puppy ever go through a little aggression phase? nothing too major but maybe pre heat when hormones are out of whack or just a little phase they have when they show territorial signs and little acts of aggression (never against wanda) maybe growling at people who get to close to wanda or nipping natasha’s fingers when she gets too close. little puppy resource guarding her mama❤️‍🩹

It all started one afternoon when Wanda came inside with a cut on her foot. It wasn’t anything major, she’d just cut it while she was doing some yard work with Natasha. It was, overall, a relatively minor injury.

But it had scared you in a way she hadn’t recognized.

You sat next to her while Natasha tended to the wound. You watched her blot the cut with gauze, covering it in dark and sticky blood. You could smell it. It made you sick to your stomach.

When Natasha poured some hydrogen peroxide onto a cotton pad, Wanda sucked on her teeth and whimpered.

“Stop it!” You barked. “You’re hurting her! Stop hurting my mama!”

“Baby it’s okay. She’s not hurting mama, she’s just making sure it’s all cleaned up so mama doesn’t get an infection,” she soothed, wrapping her arm around your head and giving you kisses. “Why don’t you go upstairs?” She knew you wouldn’t leave unless she gave you a job, so she made something up. “Can you go upstairs and make mama a nice little snuggle pile to lay down in?”

Reluctantly, you nodded and headed up to the bedroom. You made the bestest snuggle nest you could. You brought up all mama’s blankets and pillows from the couch. You laid all your favorite toys meticulously around the edges, and you arranged the blankets in a perfectly mama shaped circle.

Natasha helped her up the stairs, laying her in the nest before heading back downstairs. You laid on Wanda’s chest and kissed her face all over, hoping to soothe her discomfort. “You’re such a good puppy, always looking out for your mama. This is a beautiful snuggle pile you made us. Thank you so much, baby.”

You’d always liked Natasha. She played with you and wrestled with you in the yard. But when she came back up to Wanda's room and approached her, you just heard Wanda’s pained whimper and saw her scrunched up face. Something inside of you lit up. It was like your brain stopped and your body took over.

You positioned yourself between the two women, looking at Natasha with your teeth bared. You growled, low and dangerous, a sound Wanda had never heard from you before. When Natasha didn't back up, you lunged at her, nipping at her hand. "Get away from my mama! You can't touch her!"

Natasha backed up, putting her hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Okay. Okay. I'm not gonna do anything to hurt your mama." She held up a blue bag wrapped sloppily in a washrag. "This is an ice pack for her foot. It will help her stop hurting. Will you let me help her?"

You softened, but only slightly, retreating back to sit on Wanda's lap. You puffed out your chest, bolstering up your most threatening demeanor. "Fine. But if you hurt her again, I'm gonna... I'm gonna fuck you up! And... and once you're done, you're gonna go home!"

Wanda gasped. "Puppy!"

Natasha had to bite her lip to keep from chuckling. "Okay. I promise I won't hurt her, and I'll leave as soon as I'm done."

She gently secured the ice pack to Wanda foot and allowed you to back her out of the room. Your paws clumsily closed the door behind her, and you dragged your toy box over to bar the door. Only then did you relax, climbing up onto the bed and lying flat against Wanda.

She could feel you shaking, pressing your head against her chest as if monitoring her heartbeat. "Hey, baby," she started quietly. "What was that? Why did you bite Aunt Natasha? And you know you're not supposed to say bad words like that."

"I'm sorry, mama," you whined, licking her in a gesture of apology. She could tell how genuinely guilty you felt. "I just... she hurted you and... and I was scared mama! It was like... I knew I was being a mean puppy, but my heart was telling me you were in danger. I know I wasn't supposed to mama. Even when I was doing it, my brain was saying “don’t bite. Bad puppies bite.”, but my body was doing it anyway. Like... like you was gonna die if I didn't!"

Wanda kissed your head. "It's okay, baby. You're not in trouble," she gently reassured. "You that thing in your body that was telling you that we were in danger was your puppy instinct. Your body didn't feel like mama was safe, and it made you act out a little bit. But it's okay. Mama will help you learn how to deal with it, so you won't be so scared when something like that happens again."

You tucked your head under her chin, nuzzling against her. "Mama?"

"What is it, baby?"

"Can you call Aunt Natty so I can say sorry?"

Wanda smiled and chuckled. "Of course, sweetheart. I'm sure Aunt Natty would appreciate that."

Puppy Collection

[dibbledoodle]

OVERBLOT DIBS ✨✨

Dibs overblot design

So w dib blot concept was heavily inspired by “allegedly”grim blot but I wanted to add more of the other blots like riddles and etc. the glow on the eye looks goofy im not gonna lie but it represents the other blots color scheme since grim ate all of it like fuking skittle taste the rainbow lmao

In this form blot dibs ultra ego personality is an attention starved diva /mixed of all the emotions of eachblot like selfish, arrogant,mean ,angry all in one person. Would talk in thrid person.

Lore:

Dibs fear is to be abandoned and alone there blot persona keep the attention on them at all times.Not to mention dibs can use the some powers of each blot.

Dibs blots the same time as grim but it was cause by the scratch grim gave them during chapter 6 it gave them a blot infection where some blot got in to the blood stream, Due to dibs being mortal with no powers unfortunately due to the shock of the blot entering the body dibs does die but the blot is keeping them alive.

DONT worry they do come back to life but it’s a little more complicated lol

That’s all I got for now this was so much fun to design 🥹

[yanderes-galore]

Having thoughts about Overblotting in Twisted Wonderland causing darling's regular lover to turn yandere, a bit like the yandere infection AU. Can I get a version of that for Idia Shroud?

So it looks like this doesn't take place in the main story... So I'll see what I can put together for this AU? Here's my favorite TWST character ever... He just like me fr 🤭

IF ANYONE HAS IDEAS TO PROPERLY FLESH OUT THIS AU, LET ME KNOW, I LIKE THE THOUGHT OF IT. I HAVE SOME IDEAS FOR THE ORIGIN OF IT BUT I THINK I'LL WAIT FOR THIS TO POST FIRST.

❗️Possible TWST Book 6 Spoilers Below❗️

Yandere! Overblot! Idia Shroud

(Yandere Infection AU Version)

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Violence, Stalking, Kidnapping, Clingy behavior, Attempted murder briefly mentioned, Consensual turned forced relationship.

If we're to make an AU centered around this... Maybe more blot occurs from a magic user's obsession?

Blot itself is already tied to emotional connections if not artificially started.

So... Maybe characters overblotting due to their obsession starts due to being given something?

For example, love potions or some sort of magic enhancement that has severe side effects?

I like to imagine maybe this infection started because Idia was researching blot.

His curse naturally makes him burn off blot... yet maybe while testing some or trying a new enhancement, he starts to act weird.

Idia doesn't interact with people much.

The only people close to him are Ortho... and you.

In this AU, you and Idia are in an established relationship.

He doesn't have many friends due to his job and antisocial nature.

Yet you still managed to connect with him, perhaps another soul similar to him in interests and nature?

Idia didn't think he'd fall for anyone that isn't fictional.

But he somehow managed to score you, someone he can't help but feel giddy around.

Maybe you're the prefect sent from another world?

You have no idea when you'll be getting home... So you decided to befriend Idia in a club.

Then said meetings eventually became hang outs...

Then Idia found himself catching feelings.

He was no doubt a mess when confessing, too.

He knows he probably shouldn't fall for someone from another world... but it's right out of an isekai plot and he can't help it...!

You're so cute too... He just had to make a move before anyone else did...!

Even if Idia knew a relationship with you wouldn't last long, it's the best thing that's ever happened to him.

You bring him out to places other than clubs at school, you make him come out of his shell...

He even often invites you to Ignihyde just so he can have your attention.

Something tells me Idia enjoys private cuddles with you while gaming or watching something.

You never judge him... and that's only one of the reasons he adores you.

So, honestly, your relationship starts mutual.

You and Idia love each other, Idia even using his tech to watch your every move and help with the recent overblotting situation.

Yet he never thought he could overblot with his curse.

It burns too fast in his system, if anything it should just power him.

However... What if Idia was researching blot to find better ways to help you defend yourself against it....

He knows you aren't as affected by it as magic users, but the miasma and strength of phantoms can still harm you.

Last thing Idia wants is you being harmed.

So, in secret, Idia starts finding ways to benefit you due to the recent Overblot issues.

At first it's mostly easy since he's connected to S.T.Y.X.

Yet maybe for this AU... Things start going wrong.

While researching one of the Overblot stones Grim is so fond of to try and weaponize blot, Idia ends up catching something.

It's... a different sort of blot than the others, maybe?

Even the stone has a strange pink tint when he collects it before Grim gobbles it.

Idia doesn't notice the effects at first.

Sure, he's a bit lethargic... but that could just be his sleep schedule.

Plus... All symptoms seem to go away when he's with you.

Idia's not worried, if blot is truly the issue then his curse should take care of it.

Yet... That doesn't seem to be the issue completely.

Idia's symptoms get worse the longer he's away from you.

It's akin to a lovesickness... Making Idia miss you more and more.

It starts as yearning, a more intense feeling than what he's used to.

Idia often watches your every move through his tech... trying his hardest to distract himself with his games.

Yet he keeps trying to experiment with that strange Overblot stone... and he can't get you out of his head.

He suddenly becomes more clingy too.

Idia is normally never seen out of his dorm until you visit him or go to clubs.

When you try to go to class, Idia slips in to sit by you.

Your boyfriend barely uses the tablet at times, just leaning against you like a lovesick puppy.

If you look closely, his golden eyes swirl a certain darkness in them... but you can mistake it for something else.

A trick of the mind, maybe....

During lunch Idia cuddles against you, whining about just heading back to his dorm.

Perhaps he even attempts PDA due to the needy nature he's developing, kissing your neck gently as he begs for your attention.

You can barely go to Ramshackle with how intense Idia becomes.

You're always dragged to Ignihyde, Idia pushing you on his bed and cuddling up to you.

Ortho is no doubt going to notice something is up, yet even he struggles to comprehend it.

His brother has a strangely high amount of blot accumulation in his system... Yet that shouldn't be the case?

The curse should burn it away... yet this blot clings to his system, maybe even around his heart.

Idia's behavior is far from normal for a boyfriend.

You can barely pry him off you nowadays, the man clinging to you and kissing you as he whispers about needing you.

Later, violence develops.

Suddenly Ace, Deuce, and even Grim are threats.

Soon other dorm leaders are trying to steal you.

To Idia, everyone becomes an enemy but you.

Ortho tries to help diagnose Idia running scans and tests, maybe even suggesting Idia get himself checked at S.T.Y.X.

Idia, however, despises the idea of leaving you at NRC.

Is he an idiot or something? Letting others run off with you?

No, to Idia, the perfect love story would involve locking you away with him.

If he goes to S.T.Y.X... You'll be coming with him.

Which means, no one else will get to have you.

Surely Ortho will understand his older brother's plight?

Honestly, when you refuse to go with him to S.T.Y.X or someone pushes things too far by doing something as simple as asking to hang out...

Idia may just Overblot.

It's... Almost unlike his Overblot in Book 6.

To make it different for this new AU, the nlot that comes from him holds a pinkish color mixed with the black.

It's an Overblot made from negative emotions still... but this time it's obsession or jealousy.

Idia has a vague sense of awareness.

All he really cares about is finding you and preventing others from having you.

He burns hot, his curse finally feeding off the blot he's creating.

The miasma that soaks the air contains the same weird tint... maybe it even has a sickly sweet smell.

It makes everyone around him tired... Yet it's just as toxic as other Overblots.

Idia isn't going to calm down until he finds you.

Even then, he won't be knocked out of his Overblot until someone forces him... or his curse finally burns it all.

In the meantime... There's a good chance Idia might accidentally poison his partner due to his Overblot.

He's aware this is wrong... but can't seem to control it.

This isn't a normal Overblot... It's something different.

It... almost feels tamed once he has you in his sights.

I can see Idia trapping you against his overheating body, growling through his mask as he fully intends to level NRC if they get too close.

The phantom he creates probably still resembles Ortho or Hades... but that's up to you.

Either way, It's going to take some strong magic to soothe him... Even then, a cure is still needed.

You heard that right... I feel Idia would be able to be cleansed of his blot... but would still need a cure.

This love sickness still clings to him... Without purification, he'll just Overblot again.

Idia ends up being dragged off to S.T.Y.X... Probably due to his parents' order.

After all... The Shroud Family isn't supposed to Overblot.

This... is strange.

You yourself are probably taken in because it's assumed you were the cause.

You're researching the traces of blot on you collected and studied.

If they're lucky... They'll take the odd stone with you to lock away and study.

Meanwhile, you and Idia are kept away from one another.

Idia keeps crying out, begging to see you.

He claims this is betrayal, that he'll figure something out!

No one lets him out of his cell....

This leads Idia stew in his bitter obsession... Practically growling like an animal.

If not properly vented or purified... He could overblot again.

Part of Idia yearns for it... It felt surprisingly pleasurable.

Plus... if he Overblots again... Then he can take you back.

Not even S.T.Y.X will hold him back forever...

So hopefully a cure is made soon for the sake of both of you.

"You don't get it...! THEY'RE. MINE!"

[honkha]

JADE AND FLOYD

they look like bloody gangsters or maniacs who have decided that eating people is a cool option, but WAIT.

Their family owned a large illegal shipping business and they had plenty of time to prepare.

They took some place closer to the northern part of the country, like a hydroelectric plant or something, and began to run the community that was forming there, with Azul as the leader.

I've spent more time to sketch Jade than anything else.

[rememberwren]

A Dichotomy of Thought || 10

Prior and future chapters here.

A visitor in the park.

CW: domestic violence, rape, ableist language, homophobic slurs (f-word), internalized ableism, suicidal ideation, mention of burning.

-

It seems cruel that such terrible things must happen at moments when you are your happiest. There’s logic in it, sure—there can be no joy without pain, and happiness is bracketed on either side by sadness—but logic and cruelty don’t have to live apart from each other. In fact, you would often say they are married. 

Your boyfriend stands over you, blotting out the sun like a raincloud come to pour down on the briefest moment of peace you have felt in the last several days. Everything about him is innocuous: his clothes, his posture, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he stares down at you with unspeakable fondness in his eyes. 

“Hi honey,” he says. “How was work?” 

Johnny goes to stand, but your boyfriend is quicker, banging his shin violently against Johnny’s knee. Johnny sucks in a breath as the pain winds him, body bowing over to protect his most vulnerable areas. 

“Don’t stand on my account,” your boyfriend says to his crumpled figure. “Did I get the right knee? I did, didn’t I? I wasn’t sure if it was the right or the left—“

“Hey!” you bellow, the volume of your own voice surprising you. You stand between them, put both hands against your boyfriend’s chest, and push. He nearly goes sprawling on the sidewalk, only barely managing to get his feet under him in time. You point a shaking finger in his face. “You don’t fucking touch him!”

“An accident,” he laughs, lifting his hands. “I stumbled into him. It could have happened to anybody.” 

“Yer a fucking cunt,” Johnny groans, both hands gripping his thigh above his knee, knuckles pale. “And so’s yer mother. Syphilis-infected-cocksucking bitch.”

“Not nice,” your boyfriend says mildly, shoving his hands back into his pocket. “Do you kiss my fiancé with that mouth?” 

“You don’t even know what you’re talking about,” you hiss. All three of you quiet down as an older couple inches by, hand in weathered hand. When they are a safe distance away, you ask: “How did you know I was here? Were you following me?”

“I can’t reveal all my secrets,” he says, lowering his voice to a dangerous timber, one that promises violence. “The same way you’re not willing to give up all of yours. You thought I wouldn’t notice you coming home late all the time? Do I look stupid?” 

Johnny makes a sound, some kind of wounded laugh that only serves to put you on edge even more. You can imagine his answer—but he doesn’t know your boyfriend. He doesn’t know the kind of grim, intelligent cruelty that is wielded against you every day. Johnny is hot headed and craving violence, but he’s in no condition to experience it. 

You have to protect him. 

“We can talk about it at home,” you mutter, making sure to keep between the two men who seem eager for each other’s blood. Your boyfriend tongues his cheek, eyeing Johnny, weighing his options. 

“Come on,” you say, louder. Reaching out, you grip his arm, nails digging into his skin. He doesn’t even flinch. But after an endless moment of waiting for further provocation from Johnny, he decides Johnny isn’t worth his time. He laces his fingers in yours and pulls you along, further away from the bench, from Johnny, from the sunlight. 

“Get in the car,” he says, walking to the driver’s side. 

“You’re not supposed to drive.” 

“I won’t say it again.” 

He won’t, either. You know him. So instead you slip into the passenger seat. There’s no worse feeling than being in an enclosed space with him. The air feels heavy and oppressive, weighing you down. At the same time, your body buzzes with adrenalin, preparing for pain. You numbly buckle your seatbelt while he starts the car. 

“How long have you been cheating on me with that cripple next door?” he asks calmly. 

“I’m not.”

The calm snaps, nothing but a thin sheet of icy veneer over a deep, dark lake of fury. 

“Don’t—lie—to—me,” he says through his teeth. He holds out a hand and wiggles his fingers. “Phone. Hand it over. You’ve lost your privileges.” 

“I don’t have it,” you lie. “It’s at work.” 

“You really do,” he says, staring at you with borderline awe. “You think I’m a fucking idiot, don’t you? Oh, baby. Oh, honey. You’re in for it. How do you think I fucking found you? Give me the goddamn phone.” 

You shake your head. You can’t give it up. Not when it’s the only safe way for Simon to contact you. 

He reaches for your hand. The two of you struggle as you try to avoid his touch, briefly banging your knuckles on the car window, but then he has your hand in his grasp, and he takes your smallest finger and wrenches it back, back—you feel the pop, pain lancing through your hand all the way to your wrist. 

You screech. 

“Give me the phone,” he says, letting you cradle the misshapen hand against your breast. You grit your teeth, tears dripping off your chin. When he reaches for your hand again, you break and turn out your pockets, handing over your last lifeline. He takes the phone and beats it against the dashboard, again and again and again until the screen is a spider’s web of cracks, glass littering your knees. 

He hands you back the broken phone. 

“You broke my fucking finger,” you cry, voice warbling embarrassingly. 

“You broke your own finger by not listening to me the first time,” he says, tossing the phone in your lap when you don’t take it. He puts the car in reverse. “Don’t blame me for your mistakes, baby.” 

-

The two of you spend five hours in the emergency room together. This is an integral part of the experience; when he hurts you, he has to heal you. 

Your pinky isn’t broken, only dislocated. They set it and splint it and warn you that it could take months to feel normal again, like you know at all what that word means. Beneath the tinny lights of the exam room, your makeup job must be failing, because the nurse asks your boyfriend to step out so that she can ask you a few questions alone. 

This isn’t your first time in the emergency room, and you know the rules. You stick to your story (the one he had stitched together on the drive to the ER) even without your boyfriend’s oppressive presence looming over your shoulder. The nurse gives you a look that is both professional and pitying. You spend the rest of the visit refusing to meet her eyes, chewing on the nails of your good hand. 

“Could you be any more suspicious?” your boyfriend asks mildly while the two of you leave. He waves to one of the nurses, who gives back a cheerful little salute. 

Making friends wherever he goes; that’s your boyfriend. 

-

Walking into your apartment is like walking into another world. 

Everything has been upended: the couch cushions, the silverware drawers, the chairs at the table. DVD’s have been removed from their boxes. Even the fucking lamps have had their lampshades removed. The bathroom and bedroom doors have been taken off their hinges and laid neatly against one another in the bedroom. 

“You weren’t the only one busy today,” he says, relishing in your grim expression. “You know the drill. Clean up. Then we’ll go to bed.” 

This is an old trick of his that you know well. He tore the place apart searching for contraband—but he knows that even he isn’t all-powerful. Now he waits to see where you will rush to clean up first, where your anxious mind will take you, desperate to find out if he’s found whatever you’ve been hiding. Once it was money. Another time, a business card for a lawyer. 

This time, a lighter that’s not your own. 

You’re smarter now, though. You don’t go straight for your sock drawer where the lighter is hidden. You begin at the northernmost point of the apartment and clean north to south, east to west, methodical, your hand throbbing as the anesthetic wears off. 

It is deeply late by the time you make it to the bedroom to find your clothes strewn across the bed. Your eyes burn with exhaustion, body aching from a long day at work (and a longer day after work). You can’t help but think of Johnny as you clean, tucking clothes back into their drawers, putting clothes back on their hangers. Did he make it home safely? Did he finally message Simon? Did he try to walk home? Thinking about Johnny out alone in the dark makes your stomach turn unpleasantly. 

Sock drawer now. Most of these are still in the dresser, though some have been pushed out into the floor in your boyfriend’s search for ammunition to use against you. You pick up the few outliers and stuff them back into the drawer. 

No lighter. 

It’s not there. You know even as you continue to search without hope, rifling through your paired socks as subtly as you can. This is all just another game. He’s found the lighter and has just been waiting for you to notice it’s gone so that he can torment you with it. Maybe he’ll flick the spark wheel (the way Johnny can’t—God, Johnny, please be okay—) and hold the flame to your skin or your hair—

You touch something hard, plastic. Your breath catches. It’s there. It’s still there, tucked inside a pair of socks. He hadn’t found it. Relief rises up in you so poignantly that tears fill your eyes, even as you force yourself to shut the drawer and move on to another part of the room, feeling your boyfriend’s presence at the door, watching. 

The lighter was so little, but it meant so much. You couldn’t even put into words why. Because it was Johnny’s, maybe. Because it was yours, now. Because it was one thing your boyfriend hadn’t put his hands on and destroyed or claimed as his own. Nothing belonged to you—not your money, not your body, nothing. Except maybe that silly lighter. 

You wait until after he fucks you to speak, stubbornly maintaining your silence even through the pain and humiliation he inflicts on you. There’s something even worse about the way he draws your body against his afterwards, an arm looped possessively over your waist, the imitation of a loving cuddle. 

“I want to break up,” you say. 

He gives a long-suffering sigh, breath rustling your hair. “Keep dreaming, baby.” 

The words won’t stop tripping out of your mouth. 

“I mean it. I hate you—and you hate me. All we do is fight and hurt each other. Why…” you get choked up, swallow past the lump in your throat. “We don’t have to do this anymore. You can’t possibly be happy. Is this really how you want to live the rest of your life? Tormenting me?” 

He is quiet for longer than you expect. You hold your breath, tears dripping from your eyes and over the bridge of your nose, down into your pillowcase. Maybe he’s thinking about it. Maybe he’s really considering it. 

At last, he says: “Don’t ever think that there’s anywhere else in the world…anything else I’d rather be, than right where I am.”

Your heart plummets.

“Now go to sleep,” he says, kissing your neck. “You work in the morning.”

-

The sun goes down before Simon finds him. Johnny sits shivering on the bench where you left him, his eyes red rimmed and unseeing even when he hears the familiar footsteps of his lover against the pavement. 

Simon sits next to him where you once sat, and for a long time, neither of them speaks. When Johnny finally breaks the silence, his voice is rough from hours of crying and disuse. 

“I brought her here,” he says. 

Simon nods. He knows. Of course he knows. 

“I think she liked it,” Johnny adds, trying to find any brightness in the dark that encompasses him. 

But all at once the tears come back, his throat burning, head throbbing. He bends at the waist, elbow on his thigh, and shakes, trying to keep his crying quiet, still clinging to the remnants of a dignity that God tears more from his grasp every day. When Simon’s warm arm wraps around him, it just makes him cry harder, even as he leans into the heat of the other man like a flower bends toward the sun. 

“I’m useless,” Johnny weeps. “Fuckin’ useless. He showed up and just—took her, and I couldn’t do a thing to stop him. Even you think I’m useless—druggin’ me to keep me from getting in your way. I can’t dress myself, can’t tie my own shoes. What fucking good am I, as a human being? What’s the good in being alive if I have to live like this?”

Simon says nothing. Johnny leans up, letting the moonlight wash over his tear-soaked face. He wipes at his cheeks. 

“You can’t be happy, either,” he says, taking in the solemn lines of Simon’s face, the shadows under his eyes. Simon looks older than his age, and Johnny knows who is responsible, who has aged him. Terrified to know the answer, he asks: “Is this how you want to live? With an overgrown child as your lover? One who can’t remember where he took off his shoes? Who needs you to, to cut up his food and button his shirts?” 

“If that’s how it’s going to be,” says Simon simply. “If that’s how I get to be with you. Then yeah, Johnny. I’m solid.” 

Johnny shakes his head. He can’t even find the energy within him to be angry. All that’s left is disbelief. “You can’t mean that.” 

“I mean it. I—“ Simon ducks his head. “—I never should have put those pills in your juice. I should have trusted you. I wish I could take that back.” 

Johnny sniffs wetly. It’s as close to an apology as he’s ever heard Simon give, and it makes no small amount of guilt bloom in Johnny’s aching chest. 

“You were right not to trust me,” says Johnny. “I was lying.”

“I know,” says Simon. He reaches down and laces his fingers with Johnny’s one hand. “But I want to be a man who trusts you, even if I’m wrong.” 

Johnny is quiet for a long time, turning those words over in his head. A painful longing rises up in his chest, one he hasn’t felt since the days when he was still in the 141, days when he could barely breathe for wanting the man beside him so badly. When they’d had to love each other in secret, and it felt like he would happily have given anything if it meant they didn’t have to hide anymore. 

I miss you, he thinks. I miss myself. Leaning in, he lays his cheek against Simon’s shoulder. 

“Are we gonna make it?” he wonders quietly, watching the last of the fireflies twinkle around the dim park. Soon it will be too cold for them. Soon it will be too cold for Johnny. 

“Whatever we do, we’ll do it together,” Simon promises, laying his temple against Johnny’s head. 

-

He waits until you are asleep to creep out of the bed. There is no rest for him—not when he gets in these restless, paranoid moods. Not when he has a hunch to follow. 

Quietly, he drifts through the apartment like a ghost. Everything is back in its place, but he tries to think of anywhere he might have missed to search. You are hiding something; he knows it. He knows you. You’re see-through to him, predictable in a way that used to thrill him but now just irritates. 

“Where is it?” he mutters, standing in the living room, turning a slow circle. 

Was the lighter really all you’d been hiding? That stupid piece of plastic and metal? He’d found it easily and decided it served him better left in its place. Let you think that he had missed it. Let you think that he was slipping. 

“I’m sharper than ever, baby,” he mutters to himself in the darkness. 

Halfheartedly, he searches a few places that he had already gone through: checking some of the mugs on the top shelf in the kitchen, feeling beneath the table in the foyer for anything taped beneath it. 

He thinks about the cripple next door while he does it. Johnny. A problem, if he’s ever seen one. Him and his boyfriend both. What two faggots want with you, he can’t imagine—good Samaritans, perhaps? Well they would find out in good time what happened to people who put their noses where they didn’t belong. 

Regardless, he doesn’t like it. It leaves a sour taste in his mouth. 

Sighing, he braces his hands against the table, resting his weight against it. If he’d known that this building would cause so much trouble, he never would have moved you in here. Not that the two of you had been swimming in options. 

Your keys on the table catch his eye, but he doesn’t know why. He nudges them with his hand, metal dragging over the wood. On a whim, he counts them. 

There is an extra key. 

His brows lift. He picks up the keys and goes through them one by one, wracking his brain to remember what each one is for. At last he’s left with a single unfamiliar key. One that looks identical to the key to their apartment. A duplicate? he wonders. For when she’s locked out? 

But no, the keys are different. Just similar. 

An idea tickles at the back of his brain, but he’s never been the kind of man to ignore his instincts. He goes to the door without bothering to slip on his shoes, and steps silently out into the hallway. At this time of night, there is no one out and about, no one peeking at him from their doors.  On silent feet, he pads to his neighbor’s door and grips the knob. Locked. 

He slips the key into the lock—and it opens. 

Oh that little bitch. Fury rises up in him until he can taste it in the back of his throat. He wants to go and wake you, take a fistful of your hair and drag you out into the hallway for all your nosy neighbors to see, wants to hear that shriek of pain you give when he hurts you so unexpectedly—

But no. He has to be smart. 

He locks 5C’s door again, checks the handle, then slips back into his apartment. There will be no rest for him tonight. Not when there is so much to think about. 

[starlee246]

I’m making an infection au instead of being productive

this bit is the intro because I haven’t finished the stages yet boo. I’m going to do drawings for them as well so bear with 💪

NRC system files

File——>Greyscale_InfoLog

User CWells wrote:

Out of nowhere, mages across Twisted Wonderland have started developing a mysterious illness. The majority of the world, which is under strict quarantine, has it relatively under control for the time being, but at our expense. Anyone showing symptoms of illness has been instructed to send themselves to Sage’s Island, the designated quarantine area. Naturally, it’s spread to Night Raven College. It began with one professor, now the entire school is, at this moment in time, in shambles. We haven’t got a cure yet. 

After a week or so, the following PSA was sent out:

IMPORTANT SAFETY ANNOUNCEMENT

FOR STUDENTS AND STAFF ALIKE

In order to help avoid contraction of Greyscale Blot, students are heavily advised not to do the following:

•Kissing, sharing drinks or food with, or engaging in any sexual activities with any infected students.

•Physical contact with any infected students residing in the Diasomnia and Octavinelle dormitories.

•Attempting to interact with any infected you are being prevented from seeing. 

•Leaving your magestone exposed in the open.

•Touching any ink that resembles blot

•Treating injuries any infected may have unless you are a part of the medical team. 

•Should you happen to contract greyscale,  make your way to Housewarden Shroud effective immediately. 

The illness itself is a virus, most commonly known as Greyscale Blot. With the exclusion of direbeasts, any magical being or mage is at risk. 

It can be caught by bites, by contact or consumption of infectious ink, any fluid exchange from stage 2 onwards and any direct contact with the infected from late stage 3 onwards. 

Those with the illness cannot overblot, and the infectious ink is not the same as blot, although the former is a mutation of the latter. They look near identical with the exception that infectious ink appears to bubble, and is significantly thicker. They cannot mix and you cannot catch greyscale from blot. 

[plushieray2]

Insane Heartslabyul AU

Comic parts: [part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

Explanation

It all started the day after riddles overblot. He was different in a strange way. He apologized for what he did but it seemed fake. Days after the incident weren’t much better. He would get unreasonably angry at anyone who tried to touch the roses who weren’t from Heartslabyul. He would stand in the corner watching everyone as if waiting for signs of something to happen. When he thought no one had their eyes on him, he had a huge grin on his face.

Ace was the first sign of disaster. He locked himself in his room forcing his roommates to find another location to sleep. Riddle simply unlocked his door walking in after the third day. After a few minutes, Ace walked out acting like everything was normal yet now the same eerie feeling the riddle gave off also came from Ace. Then deuce fell ill. He would gag and cough yet never went to the infirmary. A few days later the same thing that had happened to Ace happened to Deuce. It was too late by the time the same thing happened to Trey and Cater. The whole dorm has fallen into insanity.

The blot had fused with the roses. The blot infected pollen spreading around the dorm spreading a madness inducing sickness. The dorm members practically praising there dorm leader and the blot for saving them.

Yet they were everything but saved.

Character bios

Ace Trappola

- Ace was the first to fall to the madness.

- He dislikes not being able to stay out of the dorm for long periods without getting sick but he can deal.

- The one people outside the dorm are most suspicious of sense he finds it hard to hide his insanity.

- He believes he should share the feeling of being saved (insanity) with those he’s close with.

- Accidentally hurt Yuu Ken causing them to have memory problems when trying to “save” them

- Doesn’t try very hard anymore to “save” everyone anymore but he makes small attempts every now and then

- Once Yuu recovers through he will make sure to “save” them and everyone else if it’s the last thing he’ll do.

Deuce Spade

- The second to fall into madness

- Would have fallen sooner but held it in until riddle pushed him over the edge

- Wants to “save” everyone with ace also

- He wonders if his mom would be proud of him

- Knows something is wrong with him but feels happy and feels like he finally has a chance to do something right

- See’s riddle as a savior

Cater Diamond

- Third to fall

- Can stay out of the dorm for the longest period of time

- Even if you tried to tell him it’s wrong to rely upon the roses he dose not care.

- He knows it’s not good for him and he does not care.

- He knows exactly how to return the dorm to normal and he will do nothing about it.

- He feels happy and won’t let anyone take that away from him.

Trey Clover

- Last to fall

- Mostly stays in the kitchen and bakes with the roses

- Just happy riddle is happy

- Remember the chapter one character development?

- Mostly gone

- If the dorm members let anything slip or leave an evidence to the state Heartslabyul is in. Trey is the one to clean it up.

Riddle Rosehearts

- Riddle is a lot gentler to his dorm mates

- He’s very aggressive to anyone who isn’t in Heartslabyul

- Calls the members of Heartslabyul card soldiers

- His mood can change in a second

- He dislikes the idea of spreading the insanity to others sense he believes it’s a gift for his card soldiers and only them.

- If it makes them happy he’ll turn a blind eye.

- after the Yuu Ken incident he’s the one who’s trying to heal them.

- He’s the one who gave the Heartslabyul boys there mask

- .... .. ... / .. ... / .-- .-. --- -. --.

[twst-drabbles]

Malleus 21

Summary: After so many overblots, your body has become a collection of lingering scars. In the aftermath of Malleus's overblot, during a party he's hosting, you decided to find some peace and quiet. Of course, it wasn't long before Malleus joined.

(This contains spoilers of the aftermath of Malleus's overblotting and all that. Oh and I play around with the "magic affects the Prefect weirdly" thingy I did before. Reminder for the fact that I am not a spoiler-free blog, alrighty? Kinda proud of this one, not gonna lie. Hope you all enjoy this intimate piece!)

…your flesh has become weird. It dips in, as scars do, hugging your bones, muscles and veins as skin does when it heals far, far too quickly. You'll admit, it was stupid of you to rip yourself through the writhing mass of thorns, but it's built within your very nature to struggle. To never give into anything until your final breath, even if it will leave you injured, bleeding and forever scarred. Being complacent wasn't something you can live down.

Now, if only you can beat it into your head that you just can't do that. Everything, stretching from medicines to even the medical equipment, was built upon the foundation of magic, or at least has been influenced by it. Things that should affect the average non-magic person, just doesn't work the same on you. You don't know what about you is different, but whatever it is, it makes magic hate you. Magic made to hurt, always succeeds in it's damage, and magic made to heal, always slides right off.

A bandage is more effective than a healing potion, but even then there's a chance something might go wrong.

…you got an infection. Developed right in a puncture wound you got from those thorns Malleus was controlling to keep you and Lilia caged up. Perhaps there was some blot on it that you weren't aware of. You know how you get when you come in contact with the stuff, so you thought you did a pretty good job in avoiding it.

Apparently not.

It came, it went. You caught it early, but it didn't stop your shoulder from swelling and radiating way too much heat. And certainly didn't stop it from spitting out ink and puss. But, again, it came and went, and now you look in the mirror of your bedroom to see how marred your skin was.

The ink from those overblots are never kind to you. Never fails to kill your skin and make it peel. You had a dream before, that all the layers that make you up would turn completely black and fall away. Until you were nothing more than chunky clumps of ink.

Now, you're just crumpled, in a way. Pickled, if you're being funny.

…you can't stretch in the same way you used to anymore. If you lift your arm too high, your skin pulls and threatens to rip apart.

Well, there's only so much this college can do. The staff are adaptive folks, at least. And you gotta be too. This is supposed to be a happy time. Malleus invited everyone to a party and you gotta at least act like your body isn't rapidly becoming an inconvenience.

"Heeey…" Grim muffled out past his toothbrush, eyes still not open, "you ready yet?"

"Ready as I'll ever be." You put on your coat and donned your gloves. There, like nothing ever happened.

The wind here was pretty nice. For all of your love of being in bed and just letting the hours pass before the reality of your work comes upon you, you can appreciate a beautiful castle with it's wild foliage just past this place. Air is certainly cleaner than anything you've ever breathed in.

Certainly would be nice to enjoy it alone, but it was inevitable that someone would spot you and join right at your side. None of those college students like to see you by yourself, acting like you'll just vanish--or die--if you're not within sight. And, to be fair to them, it has happened one too many times. Luck was just never on your side.

"Have you grown tired of the festivities?" asked Malleus as he cast his gaze out towards the still dark horizon. "Or, is there something weighing on your mind?"

There it is. Yeah, the minute you go out of your way to be alone, then there's gotta be something wrong. Can't just enjoy the slow way of the world, apparently.

…inevitably, your eyes were drawn to Malleus's head, to the broken horn wearing that fancy silver decoration.

Two hundred years, if you remember right. Or one hundred if one's being optimistic, for his horn to grow back in. That's if it can grow back in. And until then, magic will be… difficult for him. Not gone, but certainly different, and likely unfamiliar.

"Just reeling, a little bit. One thing after the other," you flicked a wrinkle in your sleeve, right over the skin that healed over a gash you made when you wretched yourself through those thorns. "It doesn't feel real to me, sometimes. And when I get reminded of it, it makes me mad."

Whether that was the right thing to say or not, you don't know, but Malleus's eyes widened. You're not sure if it's in surprise, horror or guilt. But you caught his attention nonetheless.

"I'm not mad at you, or anyone for that matter." Yes, you've gotten angry at all the other dorm leaders at one point, but once the adrenaline cooled down, nothing was really there anymore, other than this odd ball of something sitting at the bottom of your stomach. "I'm just not made to handle these kinds of fantastical things. And it really shows whenever I look in the mirror."

Your arms, your shoulders, the back of your neck, your torso, legs and even fingers. You're really not made for this world, and your body insists on showing it. You dug your thumb into the crease and tugged, made it worse just because you could.

You didn't need to look to the side to know Malleus was staring at you. You didn't move when he stepped closer, and you didn't get away when you saw his hand hesitantly hovering over your arm.

Malleus's fingers nervously curled. "If I may?"

A light touch won't kill you. At least you think so. You'd hope so. "Go on ahead." You pulled down your sleeve.

The thorns, when everyone on campus woke up from the dream everyone was forced into, lashed out and wrapped themselves right around your arm. Gripped it tight, but didn't quite cut into you, not until you yanked against it. Took a good chunk of your arm and you didn't feel it until after Lilia's heart began to beat again. Sometimes you can still feel it whenever your room gets too cold.

Your skin is still new, and a little sensitive, but it covers, at least. Still sinks in weirdly, since you're missing fat under there. Malleus made to touch the scar, was really close too, but ultimately couldn't. His fingers settled for the non-injured skin. Traced outside of it, as if determined to commit it all to memory. The new tissue tingled painfully, made you want to rip your nails right over it so you can feel something other than that. But, instead, your fingers twitched, and Malleus pulled back as if he burned you.

You sighed and beckoned him back with the opening of your palm. An invitation. How long has it been since he last held your hand?

Too long, apparently, because Malleus, after a light hitching of his breath, stepped even closer. His arm pressed against yours, not caring for the Grim hair that will get stuck to his regalia. Carefully, as if afraid you'll take back the offer, Malleus linked his fingers with yours.

You breathed in and slowly let it out. The muscles in your neck let go, and your jaw released its tension.

You glanced to that broken horn, still jagged from having a sword launch itself at it. "Can I?"

Untangling his hand, Malleus lifted yours to his hair. "You can," he said in a whisper that was almost washed away in the festivities behind you both.

Over the fabric of your gloves, you could feel the strong, uneven edges. They snagged at the threads, evidently not sanded down in the least. Deliberately left that way, probably. Just one broken horn, and apparently that's enough to cut him off from much of Malleus's magic.

"If it grows back," Malleus's closed his eyes, fingers pressing against the back of your palm, as if urging you to touch that broken horn deeper, "it likely won't look the same. My horns will no longer be uniform, from here on out."

"Hmm, I see." Because what were you supposed to say?

"But we live on, nonetheless."

"…yeah, we do."

[acotarxreader]

Other Worlds part 3

Azriel x Reader

Synopsis - An unfortunate infection has the Inner Circle scrambling to try to save your life, only to settle on sending you home to receive the treatment you need, accompanied by Azriel who is about to meet a whole Other World, ours.

Warning: YN is very very ill at the start, silly, serious, Az has a panic attack boo, sickly sweet, fluff, jealous Az, agnst

A/N; You guys! It has been awhile! So long that I forgot my login and there was mild panic that @lady-of-tearshed helped to settle lol! But anyways here's a part 3 of the Other Worlds. Its always scary to write for the series because people loved part one so much but anyways here it is! Once my exams are finished I hope to write another part of Eris's fic as I kinda left ye high ad dry there! Anyways, as always, let me know what you think!!

Other Worlds and Part 2

------------------------------------------

The feeling deep within your abdomen woke you from your light sleep, the growing pain keeping you from reaching REM. Perched up on an elbow you rubbed a lazy hand across your eyes, the buttery sheets clinging to the sweat on your back, uncomfortable heat sticking to your bones. Azriel moved slightly alongside you, burying his face further into your college hoodie you must have discarded during your sleep. The heat was choking, sending you quickly to dash to the bathroom, your cheek flushing purple from the suffocating sickly heat. Splashes of the coolest melted mountain water did little to stave away the purple blotting in your cheeks. You didn’t know if you were going to be sick or faint as the feeling of what felt like claws took hold of the muscles in your abdomen. You met the marble floor hard, that pain was nothing compared to what was growing in your abdomen. The cool marble gave some relief to your cheek as you met it but nothing could seemingly stop the inferno setting through your skin as your bones began to rattle with a chill off the stone. 

“YN!” Azriel reached for your face, ice cold to the touch contradicting the feeling inside. He pulled you to your feet, your groans of pain bouncing off the tile as you clutched your arms around your waist until the pain became unsurmountable and blackout was your body’s only solution. 

-

Your eyes hardly flickered, beads of sweat wiped with a cloth from your forehead as various fae shuffled around the room in frantic fear of Azriel’s stern orders. You groaned lightly, the pain remaining and the heat only having lessened slightly no doubt owed to the concoction of fluids Madja and her team plied you with. 

“Am-am I dead?” You managed, eyes unable to open fully. 

“No, love. We don’t know what’s wrong, but we’ll help you.” Azriel’s soft words were followed by a glare at the panicked-looking healer team, which couldn’t seem to figure out what was happening. 

“I-I think it's the appen-appendix” You attempted to sit up, Azriel gently guiding you back down.

“What? What is that love? Do we need to banish it? Poison it?” He sank to his knees at your bedside, running his thumb over your hand in soothing circles as you gave a gentle smile.

“Out-it needs to come out- I’ll get sep-sepsis” 

“Who is that? Can I get him now to fix you?” You gave the weakest of smiles. You’d die at the hands of medieval magic medicine, but at least you’d die with your love by your side. You fought the dark pull of sleepiness, its taunting comfort calling to you to dance with it, to stay with it. Rhysand burst through the door, boxes of supplies and tinctures in hand, Madja looking grateful but hopeless.

“Try these!” Nesta called over Rhysand’s shoulder, Cassian and Feyre holding multiple other elaborate glass bottles. 

“I’m afraid we’ve tried all those” Azriel’s head whipped up from your direction to Madja’s melancholy voice, the look of a female who had exhausted the resources available to her. 

“No” Tears rimmed Azriel’s eyes, looking back to you, waiting for a witty comment or comforting word, only a greying pasty complexion looked back. 

“Well we could… no I’m not sure” “What Nesta!?” Azriel sprang to his feet, looking to the eldest Archehon like she was the answer to all his pleas. 

“Well Azriel we could… we could send her home? Other world disease, other world solution?” Nesta shuffled from one foot to the other, an unusual discomfort in her own skin radiating as Cassian shared a concerned look with Rhysand. 

“But-but what if you send her in the wrong place? Or what if-what if she can’t come back?” He looked amongst the four, all of which didn’t want to answer but Rhysand finally filled the airspace. 

“She will die here Az”

“And what if she dies there?” his voice rattled.

“Then at least she can die knowing everything possible was done for her, we should want that for her” Cassian added softly, taking hold of one of Azriel’s shoulders in his hand. The healer team looked amongst themselves before looking to their leader to speak. 

“She hasn’t got much longer, we must decide” Madja spoke with a kind firmness that Azriel knew so well. 

“Fine, but I go with her” “Azriel” The four friends spoke in unison, being cut off by Azriel’s raised hand. 

“You would not allow your mates to go alone, YN is the closest I’ve ever gotten to a mate, perhaps she is my mate but the human stuff is getting in the way, I don't know. Regardless, I will accompany her to her end, no matter what way that may present itself. Get Amren right away, Nesta and her will send us together” With the orders of the Spymaster the inner circle reluctantly went about the necessary preparations, fully unsure if this would even work or simply kill you both on conjuring. It didn’t matter to Azriel, in every reality he’d lose you and in every reality he would stay with you. 

“Az how do we know when to try to pull you back?” Feyre did her best to hide her worry but it was easily read by her friends. Azriel took a moment to think, he didn’t know how time worked in our realm or how his friends would find him, all he knew is he had to get you to help.

“Your birthday Feyre, I’ll be home to help you blow out the candles” He hugged her tightly before doing the same to Cassian and Rhysand, the three ignoring that this could be goodbye forever.  

“Until we meet again” Were Azriel’s final words to his friends before he took your weakened body in his arms, Feyre sliding a filled satchel over a shoulder as Amren and Nesta circled around you both. Blinding light followed. 

-

The thud of his boots on the solid oak floors of a mildew-covered yet cosy dorm room echoed off the picture-covered walls. Azriel felt like he might vomit, never one to enjoy being at the will of Nesta’s power. He took an unbalanced step, realising that his wings had seemingly vanished from his back, the feeling turning his already upset stomach on its head. He clutched your body into him, taking in the room that held the same scent as your hoodie he loved so much, your home, it calming him. Your deep groan skyrocketed him back into reality as he took unsure steps out of your room and into the fluorescent-lit hallway. Every cell of Azriel’s body was screaming at him to freak out, a feeling he hadn’t felt since a child of utter uselessness towards his own outcome. 

“Eh, hello?” He whipped around to the small voice of an even smaller woman as she stood toothbrush and shower caddy in hand. Azriel couldn’t find his voice, the whole situation was overwhelming. 

“YN?” A man called from behind the girl as he ran towards the both of you. Azriel instinctively pulled you from his grasp. 

“Cammy call an ambulance!” The man shouted and the small girl ran for the phone.

“Look buddy, I don’t know who you are but you’re going to tell me what the fuck is wrong with my YN” The male snapped, managing to take your weight in his arms as pure shock rattled through Azriel. What? What? What? Bounced around the head of the Illyrian as your weight began to go fully limp in the man's arms.

The next 40 minutes were a complete whirlwind that Azriel couldn’t find his voice in. The ambulance swept you all away, the male close behind in his car.  The whole vehicle experience nevermind the beeping alarms within the ambulance cabin making Azriel feel fully out to sea.  The next thing Azriel could comprehend he was being refused entry to the emergency bay, being forced to sit alongside the man in yet another fluorescent hallway. 

“This has been a crazy fucking month” Azriel heard the man whisper under his breath. 

“Thanks for finding YN-” Azriel sat up straighter, subconsciously puffing out his chest at the sound of your name on another males tongue “-I hope she didn’t cause you too much trouble, she gets kinda crazy around exam season, I’m Damien” Damien outstretched a hand that Azriel did not take, only refocusing his gaze on the double doors they took you through. The two sat in awkward silence for nearly three hours until a doctor returned to meet them. 

“Well, we got very lucky, we got to her before any serious damage could be done, she's awake now if you want to see h-” Azriel stood before she could finish the sentence, bursting through the cursed double doors to find you, a small rattling intern leading the way to your room where you sat still groggy in the bed. 

“Az” You gave a weak smile, morphine still flooding your system, the realisation of who you saw then sending you further upright in the bed. 

“Az! What the fuck!?” You half shouted half laughed as he rushed to hug you into him, burying his head into your hair, taking deep breaths of the scent he loved so much. 

“YN, I was so afraid” his voice hoarse from the somewhat vow of silence he had taken since arriving. You pushed him back, your hands wiping across his chiselled cheeks as you touched your forehead on his. He ran a hand up your arm, it catching on the IV.

“What is this?” he looked, taking in the sterile environment. 

“Fluid, it's okay, it doesn't hurt. I can’t believe I’m back here, that you’re here!” 

“YN you’re alive!” Damien's voice came from the doorway, sending Azriel back to his ironing board-like posture. He gave you a gentle hug under the scrutinising eyes of Azriel, your cheeks blushing. 

“Damien I-I can’t believe you’re here?” “Can’t believe I’m here? You go awol for a month and then show up in the arms of this guy” Damien looked judgingly towards Azriel, arms tucked across his chest. Your sense of time was completely lost, you had been gone at least 6 months, had that translated as a month in this realm, the physics side of your brain was hurting. 

“Visiting time is over” a burly nurse saved you from responding.

“I go nowhere without her” Azriel replied, the nurse only raising an eyebrow. 

“C’mon Leathers, I’ll give you a lift back to the dorms” Damien replied bitterly, digging through his pockets for his keys. 

“I doubt your puny muscles could carry me” Azriel whispered to no one in particular, you smiled gently.

“Go Az, stay in my room and one of my friends can bring you back to me tomorrow” You gave your best reassuring smile but met the doubtful face of the Illyrian. You leaned across the bed, beckoning him in to hear your whisper 

“Az, trust me, an ICU nurse makes a naga look like a kitten” you grinned, Azriel shooting upright again, looking to the nurse with a respectful fear before kissing the top of your head and following Damien out. 

Sat into the small Ford, Azriel dug what training he could to remain calm within another metal cage, this time the alarms absent. 

“So, how'd you meet YN?” Damien broke the 5 minutes of dead air in the car, Azriels hand finding the handle above the door to cling to as Damien indicated onto a busy road.

“Not the ‘Jesus Christ we're going to die’ panic handle” Damien laughed at the sight, Azriel now using all training you had given him to read between the lines and not ask a silly question, he would save those for you. 

“Well?” Damien tried again.

“She sort of…fell into my life” Azriel buried a grin, white knuckles growing across the handle.

“She has a tendency to do that, hard to saddle that one” he laughed, Azriel now glaring.

“She's not an animal she-”

“-oh dude I know, I get it, feminism woo-” Damien raised a sarcastic fist before returning it to the wheel “-but some women are meant to be left wild” he laughed, Azriel not returning the sentiment.

“So called ‘wild women’ are revered where I come from” he bit, Damien pulling up outside the building Azriel had hazy memories of landing in. 

“And where is it you're from?” Damien raised an eyebrow, Azriel finding the door handle to allow air in.

“Somewhere YN will never need to bow to feeble insecure males” were his final words shared before exiting the car. 

Azriel found your room again with some difficulty but was happy to find the door still open from the rush of excitement earlier in the night. The room felt like you, your photos and books and brilliance across every inch of the space. Azriel sat on the edge of the bed, taking it all in before the flood of sea he was thrown in overwhelmed him. Tears freely flowed down his cheeks, his hands knotting through his hair as the stress of it all reached boiling point before he fell back into the bed and allowed himself to be overtaken by the near miss you both had tonight. Sleep quickly stole away the cries.

—--

“Az, get your filthy shoes off my bed” You laughed from the doorway, skyrocketing the Illyrian upright, a daze of confusion to follow.

“YN!” He ran to you, swaddling you in his arms once again as you leaned into him. 

“I-I just closed my eyes? How are you here already? How are you feeling” A rush of questions separated you both again.

“I wouldn't think too much about the time thing, it'll rot your brain sweetie-” you pulled from him, throwing down the jacket you had left Prythian wearing “-I got sent home, they said they've never seen someone heal so fast from halfway to death, those treatments from Madja must have worked wonders after surgery, I feel a lot better” you sat down on the bed, Azriel still trying to work his way through the time difference. 

“YN I was so scared, I really thought you were going to leave me” “I can’t believe you’re here with me, in some ways I think I must still be in an infection-fueled catatonic state-” You looked at Azriel, his head tilted in confusion like when a dog hears the word walkies “- nevermind, I believe it, as much as I can’t, I chose to believe this is real” You smiled, eyes then landing on his bear shoulders, Azriel seemingly shrinking under the gaze. 

“I know, wingless, how terribly odd, I feel like my balance is off” he laughed, a knocking coming to the door.

“She lives!” Damien beamed as you pulled open the chipping door. He squeezed you into a hug, the heat from Azriel’s eyes and your fresh stitches radiating through your body. 

“Hello Dam, thank you for bringing Azriel back here” 

“Oh it was no problem at all, me and ol Azills had a lovely chat” Damien clapped a hand on Azriel’s shoulder, a huff of air leaving his nostrils as he did. 

“Azriel will do just fine” he corrected.

“Nonsense buddy, you’re a friend now, c’mon we’re all going for lunch to celebrate your return from whatever place you were in” Damien left his side, taking your hand gently in his and leading you to the door.

-

Azriel crammed his figure into the back seat of the tiny Ford once again, trying his best to not glare holes into the back of Damien's head as he drove. 

“You’ll have to tell us all of the great mischiefs I’m sure you got into YNN” Damien almost lovingly tapped your knee before returning his hands to the steering wheel. 

“Not must mischief..” you trailed off, thinking of the great vast amounts of mischief you got up to in Prythian, all of which would land you in a psychiatric hospital if you tried to explain it to your friends. 

-

Azriel folded his shoulders like a deck chair, squishing as best he could into the booth of the large, dilapidated pub some miles from your residence.

“Do they only make furniture for the miniature in this city?” He asked you under his breath and you laughed lightly as Damien returned to the table accompanied by three of your closest friends. Azriel fought the urge to block his ears as you and your friends all squealed at the sight of one another. 

“I know, like howling dogs” Damien whispered across the table to Azriel as you swaddled your friends in hugs. 

“You seem to have an affinity for referring to females as animals” he bit back, Damien rolling his eyes.

“Well hello there-” a red-headed female slid in alongside them, hand outstretched like a grand dame greeting a suitor “-let’s get properly acquainted” She playfully batted her eyelashes as you rolled your eyes. 

“Easy Georgie” Cassy, Azriel remembered from the corridor, slid alongside his new friend. Damien gestured with his head for you to sit alongside him, allowing Ellie, Azriel's final new friend, to cap off the bench at the end. 

“Tell us, tall dark and handsome, where are there more of you?” Georgie laughed, and your eyes looked down towards the menu burying a grin. 

“I am a dying breed, my brothers are all mated off” Azriel answered in a somewhat serious tone, eager to end the affections of this new female as a waitress filled your glasses with refreshing water.

“Now who’s obsessed with animal analogies” Damien shot back as you took a drink to cover your confusion.

“If I was I’d correctly identify you as a little bitch” You began to sputter on the water at Azriel’s comment.

“Oh my god it’s like the real housewives” Cammy laughed as Damien and Azriel began to stare one another down. 

“Okay okay enough of that” you coughed out, Damien rubbing your back to ease the deathly grip you faced for a second time in 48 hours, Azriel thought of all the ways he could have Damien taken care of, giving him comfort. 

Azriel pushed around his burger on the plate, nothing compared to the food of home and simply couldn’t stomach it.

“YN, I thought you weren’t going to date boys until you finished the degree?” Ellie asked between bites of salad. 

“Guess she went and found herself a man” Georgie laughed, the table other than Damien joining in. 

“Tough luck Damien” The three girls laughed loudly accompanying your nervous chuckle as Azriel examined the pair of you. Soon after more teasing you found yourself at the bar top, waiting for an order of the coffee you had had dreams about. 

“Hello love” Azriel joined your side, an arm wrapping tenderly around your waist, ever careful of the fresh stitches. 

“Having fun?” “Yeah, it’s nice to meet the people from your stories, although I don’t remember a pig-headed troll being part of any?” 

“Damien’s just being nice Az, maybe calling him a little bitch wasn’t the nicest thing you’ve done” you teasingly reprimanded him. “I call it as I see it” he proclaimed, observing the bar staff as they worked. 

“It's funny how no matter the realm, the tavern will survive in any form” he laughed, kissing the top of your head as a member of staff passed a cup into your hand. You retrieved your card from your pocket, Azriel raising a hand before digging through his own pockets and pulling out coins. 

“Az-” you tried but he had already placed the solid gold coins into the young staff member's hand.

“We don’t take Renaissance Fair money here buddy” 

“Why do people keep calling me buddy?” You laughed at him, tapping your card on the outstretched card machine, the beep signalling a successful payment. 

“What a strange place, a piece of…whatever that is containing all your wealth”

“Strange? A winged goblin takes my wages in a bank made of seashells at home and you think this is strange?” You laughed, taking a glorious sip of the coffee.

“You don’t think Gerry is helpful?” Azirel bemused as you rolled you eyes again.

“Gerry is the most helpful of anyone at home I suppose” Azriel beamed down towards your use of home, Valeris was still your home. You offered the drink to him and he took a regretful deep sip of the honey black liquid. His face contorted into shapes as the energetic liquid of life entered his system,

“Nice?” “I think Cassian’s dirt mixture was nicer” he winced out as you rolled your eyes. It wasn’t long before Azriel’s small sip of coffee had him bouncing off the walls with energy, so unused to the power of caffeine and colourings rife in our food. As the evening turned into night, the pub filled with college students ready to relax and the dance floor came to life. Georgie had the caffeine bursting Azriel quickly on his feet to swing around the dance floor with the other two girls, leaving you and Damien to chat in the booth. 

“Looking for that ring before Spring YNN?” He laughed into his pint as the back of your hand gently met his chest. He quickly caught hold of it to keep it there, beckoning you to turn to face him. 

“I could give it to you” he said quietly, barely audible over the booming music the was blowing Azriel’s mind some feet away. 

“Dam, stop” You smiled sadly, taking back your hand. 

“We were great together!” 

“We were fuck buddies” You laughed in surprise at his bold statement.

“Exactly!” He joined your laugh, a familiar playfulness falling back between you both. Azriel swirled Cammy around when a sudden creep of a sugar crash headache started to slide up from the nape of his neck. He released Cammy’s hand and apologised to the girl's pleas to stay as he made his way back to the booth. Through the sea of people, Azriel found his eyes land on you and Damien, looking ever so comfortable in the booth. He watched as Damien took a ring from your finger and placed it on the one where people's wedding bands on before he leaned in and whispered something into your ear. Azriel felt a wash of rage, it chasing away any semblance of a headache from him as he shoved his way through the crowd trying to find the door. Meanwhile, you began to laugh at the obscene idea that Damien would ever be the one you’d end up with, slipping your ring back to your thumb. You looked out to see the back of Azriel’s head exit through the door as you attempted to follow him, finding it a lot harder to break through the crowd than the broad Illyrian. 

Azriel stormed through the drizzle-drenched streets, crowds and crowds of people washing around him, the deafening buzz of overhead street lights had Azriel wondering how you weren’t all driven mad. He had no idea where he was, only that he wanted to go home to where things made sense and fluorescents were only found in the brightest flowers of Spring and not around every corner. The Spymaster stopped in front of an electrical goods shop, shut for the night but with the displays still on. Flashes of the news painted across the rectangular screen, more hypersonic buzzing radiating through the glass. Azriel watched in horror at the scenes of unrest, scenes of familiar trenches but with more gruesome otherworldly weapons. The sight turned his stomach, forcing his feet onward as pictures of the battlefield danced across his mind. He wandered off the step onto the road, a large SUV breaking harshly in front of him, blowing the bellowing horn in his direction, more incomparable noise. Azriel darted from the road, narrowingly missing being flattened by another SUV. This world was so noisy, so deafening he couldn’t understand you ever finding peace here. 

The rain picked up its hammering from a drizzle to a drum as his rain soden boots met the pavement with increasing weight. Even the weather was different here, somehow crueller than what he faced in the darkest of storms at home. Azriel felt out of control, overwhelmed in every sense of the word, swaddled by the choking of the deafening never-ending buzz of street lamps. He couldn’t find his way through the sea of nausea and people, people chattering into their little glowing boxes, tapping a deafening finger on the buzzing screens. Buzzing, so much buzzing, all Azriel could think of until he found his breath uneven, no match for the buzzing. His heavy hips met the step outside a jeweller, the quietest of buzzing but still pinging in his ears. Calloused hands dug into his face as he tried to bring his breathing back, unable to capture its elusiveness. 

“Az!” Your voice rose above the buzz, Azriel, lifting his head from his hands as you ran to him, the colour drained away from his cheeks. You caught him gently by the shoulders, his rattling bones bouncing off your rain-soaked sleeves. 

“C’mon love, it’s okay” You did your best to pull his weight up from the step, guiding the seemingly shellshocked Illyrian back the few blocks to your dorm, the buzzing never really easing but breath beginning to return. 

Once inside, you took his rain-soaked clothes from him, leaving him in just his undergarments before swaddling him in the duvet and guiding him down to the bed. The bone-rattling buzz continued inside your room, the maddening sound causing Azriel to claw at his ears. 

“What Az, what?” you pleaded. 

“It's so-so loud here!” he winced, eyes scrunched closed. You quickly darted around, unplugging everything, and shoving a pillow along the foot of the door to block the noise and light from outside. The motheaten curtains were quickly swooshed closed, soothing darkness swallowing the room until you lit a few candles to illuminate your bath back to Azriel as he lay in your bed. You discarded your own drenched clothing before sliding into the space alongside Azriel. His clammy skin clung to you as his arms wrapped around your waist. 

“That, that was horrible” he whispered into your hair. 

“I think you had a panic attack sweetie, a symptom of my realm” you nuzzled into his chest, eager to hear his heartbeat return to normal.

f

“Did I steal you away from your life here?” he questioned after a moment of comforting silence. He had seen you beam with joy many times since meeting you but never with the level of familiarity you seemed to have tonight.

“If you want to get technical, Nesta stole me” You chuckled softly before lifting to rest your chin on his peck and meet his eye. 

“Details” he grinned.

“The only thing you stole was my heart” You admitted sweetly before making a retching sound “ew gross feeeeeeeelings” you mocked, Azriel rolling his eyes before kissing you sweetly. 

“I bet Damien would have a few words to say about that” 

“Yeah well Damien is a little bitch” You smiled, Azriel looking as proud as ever. 

“My girl” he squeezed you tight.

“No one else’s”

-

For the following two weeks, you introduced the world a lot more softly to Azriel, with lots of breaks in the haven of safety from the buzz you had built in your room. Azriel began to see so many things right in this realm and challenged the wrong. He could see how someone could call this place home but it would never be his and he counted down what sense of time he could before you would return to his realm. Azriel’s bravery grew and one late one evening he ventured out alone into the world while you slept off a day of explaining how cars, debit cards, instant noodles and electric razors work. 

The street where all the deafening had occurred was silent, as the sun sinking banished the need for overhead street lamps. He wandered with more comfort down the street until he landed at the step that you had rescued him from, a neon sign glowing in the window of the shop. “Cash for gold” Azriel read allowed, an idea sounding off in his head. 

When you woke up to an empty bed, panic had stolen your voice as you began to haphazardly clothe yourself, your hand barely touching the door knob as Azriel strode in. 

“Gods Az, I thought you were gone on another rampage-” You smiled, taking the flowers he offered you “-these are lovely” you beamed. 

“YNN, I have a surprise for you” You raised an eyebrow as he came in, closing the door behind him. You watched him carefully cross the room, discarding the jacket you had bought for him in a charity shop, along with his other new clothing. You placed the delicate flowers on the dresser before turning to see a somewhat worried Illyrian.

“YNN, this is a strange world, filled with strange customs, but this is the custom I like the best-” “-yes”

“YN, I love you so much and I know we’ve only been officially together for a short time or a very long time, who can tell but-” “-yes” you mumbled in shock, Azriel not hearing you as he was wrapped up in anxiously delivering his speech. 

“-I just know you're supposed to be mine forever and-”

“-yes”

“-I will work harder for the life you deserve-”

“-yes”

“-because you deserve the moon and stars and I want to be the one to give them to you, in every and all realms, YNN, will you be with me forever” Azriel retrieved a ring of precious stones, dazzling rays of your favourite colour danced along the precious metal as he held it out to, where it met silence. 

“This is-this is where you answer, from what I’ve read” he mumbled after a moment, staving off the rising panic he wished to never feel again. 

“I said yes Az” Tears brimmed your cheeks as he launched forward for you, holding you so tight that it may burst your bones. 

“I love you so much YN, I don't know how I got so lucky to find you” he slipped the ring on gently, it fitting perfectly.

“I love you too Azriel” You kissed again, shielding each other from the chill of the night that leaked through the poorly insulated walls.

“I did contemplate pulling a Rhysand and have you face a beast to retrieve your own ring but I didn’t fancy trying to slip the ring under Nesta’s pillow while she slept” You laughed at him, gently hitting him into the chest, the gleam of the rings charm catching your eye.

“So now can we go get some sleep”

“I wasn't thinking of doing much sleeping tonight YN” he smirked and you returned the same, rolling your eyes.

“I don't know you didn't get down on one knee, kinda ruins it” You teased and he grinned biting his lip.

“Oh Gods I change my mind I can't be stuck with a Smart Ass for a wife the rest of my life”

“Wife” you repeated and it caused both of you to smile greatly, a tinge of sadness then panging through you. 

“What about finding your mate Az?” you looked from the stones to his jewel-like amber eyes.

“I found her” he kissed you deeply, draining any and all doubt from your bones. Forever was a long time but you looked forward to its endlessness with Azriel. 

------------------------

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