#why do i get into the worlds tinest fandoms

[chupacabraatemybrother]

Anyone out there read this bad bitch?

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

I'm so glad to have found a blog that writes for twst and does male pronouns. Such good writing too! I'm not gonna lie, I have it bad for Jamil. I love his character. He's so smart and has such a pretty design! If it's okay, could you possibly do something nsfw where he's trying to calm an overbloting mc? The idea of mc trying to be loving and gentle with Jamil while trying to fight off the blot and all the stress that Crowley puts on them just gives me such bad brainrot. I love the idea that Jamil sees them trying to be careful with him even in such a state causes him to realize that he is loved and not seen as just some servant. Regardless, thank you for giving the fandom such good content.

Blot Poisoning

So this didn't really become NSFW is anything it was the tinest bit suggestive and I apologize. If you want to send this again for some gentle monsterfucking feel free.

Read tags for TWS! it is a little dark

Blot poisoning. It threatened to swallow you whole as it coursed through your veins. Veins, now a nightmare black and protruded out of your skin, making deep-dark patterns that spread across your arms and body. How could you even get this? The question in the back of your head died as another pulsing migraine came on. 

Your head throbbed as you held it- now sharpened talons that were once normal nails threatening to dig into your skull. Intrusive thoughts that weren't your own whispered and groaned in a cacophony of harsh sounds. This blot felt like a sentient virus threatening to hollow out your body to puppeteer you.

Kill them. They have nothing but hurt you. They tried to kill you. I am just trying to protect you, can't you see? They've done nothing for us! All they do is use us. They will hurt you again! I can't let that happen. They're going to kill us! Please!

Paranoid delusions and violent answers slurred with the sounds of groaning, creaking, crackling, and scratching ate at you. In a way, they were right. You didn't matter. That is why you were the errand-runner. Easily replaceable. Without a family to mourn you and sue the school or true friends that genuinely didn't care you never had a leg to stand on and defend yourself with. 

Basic needs like shelter, water, and food can be stripped away the second you weren't useful. Your value was never within you but rather what you can do for everyone else. No one else gives a damn either. All you've gotten were judgmental stares and sneers. 

Everyone that knew your situation didn't bother to help. They didn't bother to offer you even the scraps of their food, or bandage for your wounds. You never even got a damned 'Hey how are you?' Even your close friends with the freshmen make fun of you for doing favors so easily, completely ignorant to the true extent of your reasons and suffering. You've been crying out for help ever since you got here and everyone misconstrues your cries for an orchestra of entertainment. You are in a world that isn't your own and suffocates you.

Your body felt numb. There was bile threatening to rise up your throat as you moved your hands from your head to your arms, digging them in and letting out a shriek of anguish and frustration. The monster inside you beckoned and comforted, trying to get you to listen. You want to go home. You want to die.

A knock at the door is mistaken for pounding in your head before it is opened. The Scarabian Vice-Housewarden strolls in. You haven't even noticed during your episode someone else was there. "Yuu– are you…" 

The voice trails off, making you turn around to see him. Him. Jamil Viper. It was a rough start, a very very rough start but just somehow, somehow your pathetic self managed to make friends with him after everything. Somehow you managed to get close to him. Perhaps it was the way he would offer you a meal or wouldn't immediately question you when you take on yet another errand. 

Just basic acts of kindness melted your brain and made you pathetically attached. You craved just the smallest ounce of kindness and grasped desperately for a warm hand. You must have looked so desperate to him, but deep inside after hearing his story, you know how desperate he must be too for the same thing. Misery loves company, perhaps not so much for Jamil. So desperate for a bit of validation you fell in love with someone that shows basic kindness. The feeling seemed mutual with how you both started dating…. A while later to say the least.

You didn't even realize you were staring at him magically, you must look insane to him. Jamil was frozen stiff, shocked expression turning into a forced calm. He recognized the signs of an overblot– hell, he's done it himself, but this looked different.

Your eyes were sunken and glowing, your body looked like it was gonna cave in, and there were all sorts of scratches across your body. The energy around you was menacing and the way your pupils dilated was feral. This was beyond an overblot.

"Yuu… calm down," Jamil took a few careful steps toward you avoiding direct eye contact and trying to seem non-threatening. "I'm not gonna hurt you…" "Jamil, what's wrong with me?" Your voice seemed faint like it was going out. "..." 

He carefully reached out a hand towards your arm, flipping it to see the extent of the damage. The blot was in your system, your veins. His stomach churned at the sight of tangled and visible black veins, pumping poison. Through your body. "Stay here, I'll go get you help." "No, wait! I... I'm afraid to be alone with myself! Please don't leave me! I-i don't know what to do! This thing won't stop until I or the people around me are dead!" 

Jamil closed his eyes. He took out his phone and texted for help, informing your group of friends about your situation. From there it was time to soothe, and step through your blot.

****

It has been a week. Most of the poison has been flushed out of your system. Chances are this will stay within you for quite some time, the doctor said. 'It was festering for a while, you have a lot of self-control to have not given in' they said. You shut yourself off from visitors. You didn't feel like dealing with Crowley or seeing anyone right now. Even now you looked over at your nearly broken phone, cracked screen flashing every minute or so with people asking if you were okay for once in your life.

You needed to see Jamil. That wasn't very cool of you at all to let him see you like. To put your life in his hands. You wanted to apologize, maybe even break things off with him. Your body was fine, and the doctors even encouraged you to go out for a walk when you felt safe.

Informing them of your walk during the evening, they gave you a pass and you slipped out in your hospital gown and pajama pants. Your grippy socks made sticky noises as you walked off to the hall of mirrors.

So far, undetected. Not many students were out, and the ones who were simply didn't care. Scarabia was surprisingly scarce for once. You assume Kalim knew it would be inappropriate to throw a party after hearing about what his friend went through. 

Jamil's door was right in front of you. You knocked softly and stood there for a few moments. What do you do? You scratched at your head for a moment before the door opened in front of you. Your lover stood there, completely shell-shocked for a moment. You used that as an opportunity to slip in and shut the door, not wanting anyone to be seen.

Now you both stood there. Jamil gawked at you and you looked nervously at him before the words came to you. "I wanted to apologize for all of that… I didn't- I mean— I'm sorry. You shouldn't have had to deal with that, no one should have. I should have just dealt with it on my own. If you want to break up I under-" "Y-you fool."

Jamil's voice shook and he held onto you tightly, allowing tears to roll down his face. "Do you know how worried I was?! You were taken away for a week with no answer to if you were okay or not– knowing you were suffering like that for so long??" Jamil's voice grew hoarse.

"Then having to realize just everything that you've done." Jamil pulled away, holding your face in his hands. "I was scared I was going to lose you because I realized something. You saved my life too. You saved so many lives from so many overblots, you're just— and I" Jamil trails off again, and you hug him close to you. 

"I'm sorry for never checking on you. You seemed so strong and I was… weak. I didn't know you needed me and I thought you were okay, and I was wrong but I realize that now. I went in to check on you and I was almost too late…" Jamil shakily pushed you away and regained his composure, his eyes were clothes as he stood there, controlling his breathing. After what felt like minutes he opened his eyes and look at you.

"I... I didn't mean to…" You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him close just standing there for a few moments. "I missed you," your voice a whisper and you squeezed onto him. It took a moment before Jamil returned the hug. "You… ugh.."

"Just don't ever do that again…" Jamil muttered. You spend the rest of the night in each other's embrace, catching up with each other, memorizing each other's bodies, and locking lips. The blot was still in your system and you can feel it coursing through you once again, inky tentacles under your skin threatening to burst out of your back…

But perhaps you'll save that for another night when you get used to your new abilities along with these new urges. You still had much to use after all. Claws, a long tongue, some fangs. Perhaps this poisoning wasn't so bad…