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ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit · 10 months ago

Text

For a Yuu OC

Walker arrives at the school the usual way. They don’t really feel different and take the lack of appetite and sleep down to the major life changes happening. New dorm, a monster to take care of, whole new world full of magic they can’t use, it’s a lot. The take what they can get and keep their head down as much as Grim allows.

Until they face the Overblotted Miner.

Desperate, they smash the jar, cut their hands on the glass, ink on their hands, and they see it. The Miner’s falling one by one due to overmining, the unstable gems causing tempers to rise, until Dopey buries the last of his brothers and succumbs to their own overuse of magic. Walker wakes up crying, a lifetime of knowledge of gems and minerals and jewels settling into their hands and a wish to go home.

Walker goes to the library in-between classes to try and understand more of overblots and what happened with them in particular, but there is nothing. The only recorded documentation of overblots leads to the infected person’s death or complete loss of magic.

Is it because they are magicless that they were able too? That the knowledge or magic, whatever it was, overflows since it has nowhere to go?

It happens again with Riddle.

Except Riddle is alive, and breathing, and still in there. Unlike Dopey, he hasn’t given up, he hasn’t sunk to deep into the dark there. Walker bears witness, pulls the both of them out, and passes out. Crowley drops them at their dorm to rest, not staying to see their eyes moving and hands twitching as they live a lifetime in a few hours. The Queen settles on her throne, whispering to them bout order, madness, invention and nonsense and Daring.

Their fingertips are dipped black, vines crawling up the knuckles, a lace motif incomplete on their wrist. They steal a pair of Deuce’s leather gloves and the lie passes too easily on their tongue that he must have lost them.

They continue on, though they notice that sleep never comes as easily, nor do they seem to need as much to be just as productive. A magic thing? It doesn’t seem to happen to anyone else, but they are different. So different. It's been pointed out so many times. They are already tired of hearing it.

The sabotage of other students isn’t totally surprising, considering it’s a school full of students who glorify villains, but they can’t help the smug feeling when he sets up a damn stampede. Called it!

Leona’s overblot is worse, seeing Ruggle panting for air before they can finally pull him out of Leona’s clawed hands. It must be the sand or the heat causing mirages though. Sometimes it’s Ruggie, and other times the face shifts and changes into something close but not quite. They drag the jar of ink down with them, and bear witness once again.

Jack is the one to carry them to Ramshackle this time, ears flat at the state of the place before leaving, making plans to grab some Savannaclaw students and make some repairs as payment for getting Leona out. He doesn’t see the twitching eyes and hands, the feet that move, the groans of pain.

Walker wakes up with dried sweat sticking to their skin, back aching. they choke, and stares down at the teeth that fall from their mouth.

There is ink on their thighs, African like maybe? It’s not anything they recognizes. At least it’s easier to hide.

The savanna claw students actually pull through though, making basic repairs and spare fabric to reupholster the chairs and couches, in exchange for not speaking anything of Leona’s blot to the outside world. Walker hadn’t intended to, but they will not turn down a gift when needed.

With the bathroom finally in working order, they get to see the damage. The lace motif has formed into full gloves that pull up to their forearms though the pattern has shifted. Roses curl quietly, a spade, diamond, clover and heart hidden in the foliage, a smile hidden on the cure of their wrist bone. Their thighs remained unchanged, though they know the images have moved. The ink moves on their body.

But worse than any of that, is their back. Their shoulder blades frame an oval outline, two jabbed pieces like glass coming together. What is this? Where did it come from? Should they tell-

No. No, what would Crowley even do? He’s encouraged them to take care of everything else themselves, including their dorm. They can figure this out too.

(They should have said something)

Ace and Deuce exchange a glance when they catch Walker covering their laughs or smiles with their gloved hands. Was it always a habit they had that they just missed? Did they always wear gloves? When did they start wearing jewelry with rough cut gems and stones? Deuce only shrugs, taking it as something he simply missed. He isn’t used to actually caring about his ‘friends’, so this is all new to him. But he does trust that Walker is honest. When they say they are fine, he believes them. Ace doesn’t, but if they aren’t in any pain and won’t tell him the truth, it’ll happen eventually.

Something burns in Walker’s throat when they find out about Grim’s deception. Seriously, bartering with his magic? Foolish boy, unknowing of the gift he has. He wastes his potential.

It takes work, the familiar burn of Leona’s magic taste strange in such a humid place, and then there is ink everywhere. Azul’s overblot is tragic in a way that the others didn’t. Perhaps Walker simply relates too much, feeling displaced and judged for something they couldn’t control. They don’t feel surprised when they fall in, firmly pulling Azul from his misery. Jade looks curiously down when your body goes completely limp. There is no twitching of the eyes or hands, you are as limp as a fresh corpse in his hands. Floyd takes one last curious look at you before they collect what is left of their things in Ramshackle, something familiar in your presence. Something old.

You wake up feeling older than salt, older than water, hands clutching at friends you don’t have, at your stomach and ribs. Ink pours down your cheeks.

Write. A voice whispers. There is a journal on the desk, a leather-bound prize you had picked up at your weekly check to the lost and found for clothes and other things that might be useful. You and I both know they only have half the story, a Twisted version. You remember it don’t you dear? Write. Complete our stories.

Grim finds you hours later up in the night, an oil lamp long burned out, but the scratching of your pen is unyielding. He asks if it is normal for humans from your world to have glowing eyes. You lie again and tell him yes.

Ace and Deuce try and bring up your behavior with the others, but this is all they have ever known you as. Quiet, watching, observing, modest. You seem sensitive to sunlight, but Jade conveniently leaves behind a pair of sunglasses that are simply unsuitable to the business now. Otherwise, what is there to say? Ace and Deuce hover but otherwise you seem ok? What else can they do?

Sometimes Grim finds you at night, simply staring into space, writing things down without even looking down at the pages, there are books and books filled at the dorm now with your writing. He has trouble getting you to respond when you are like this, sometimes you sound different or say something weird, but you always come back. He wonders if your going through another growth spurt or something from your world, the dark marks on your stomach curve up into your ribs now.

Jamil looks at you and sees danger, but he needs you in order to make this plan work. But there is something wrong with you. Even with Kalim, bright and distracting as he is, he can feel your eyes. You ask odd things. You called Kalim a Sultan and laughed it off as an accident but it came it so sincerely, so genuinely.

You watch Jamil overblot with open arms, guiding him through with ease. Once is an accident. Twice is coincidence. Three times is a pattern. Four though? Four is planned. Is it Crowley? Fate? You?

Kalim carries you to Ramshackle on the very carpet you stole, your body near lifeless. He hesitates to leave, but Grim convinces him that you are always like this after. He’ll even tell Walker to send a text when they wake up.

It takes an entire night, far longer than usual, but they do wake up. Half of their back is filled with jagged pieces, and their shoulders and arms burn with new black markings similar to Kalim’s Henna. Walker traces the patterns and thinks they pair well with the roses. The Rose disagrees. The Lion simply laughs at her displeasure. The Witch delights in your beauty, the feral and elegant. The Djinn is new and says nothing yet, but he has always chosen his words more carefully.

And so it continues with each overblot. Deeper down Walker goes, the more marks, the more layers. Their feet and ankles decorated with German patterns, the shackles of Grecian around their calves and shins wrapped like leather sandals, a forest of thorns and beasts burned into their chest, a dragon wrapped around their heart. With each one, the whispers get louder, the books get longer, the unused magic, curling into their muscle and sinew and veins, gets stronger.

The jagged pieces are whole. The mirror is complete but shattered. As far as Walker knows, it always will be.

Until it isn’t.

Grim snaps, because of course he does. How could he not? Walker saves them, as they have all the others. They pass out as you have all the others. Around you, the entire school is battered and tired, finally taking the Chimera down, wanting nothing more than to drag you both to Ramshackle for some much-needed sleep.

The mirrors start to hum. The windows black out and reflect only darkness and hands reaching.

The jagged pieces on your back snap into place, whole and complete.

You are pulled into the air by black strings, ink pouring out of your eyes, dropping into puddles on the floor. The ink shakes, ripples, forms, bubbling and rising.

The dorm leaders can only stare in horror as their faces rise from the blot.

No, not themselves. Their puppeteers.

You have saved them so many times. They can do this. Surely, they can still save you.

But what are they saving you from?

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst yuu #yuusona #yuu oc #twst au #Wright OC #I don't know if I'll ever fully write out the story but I'd like to write snippets for them #tragic with a happy ending #I'm in too deep

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