I Love Your Twisted Wonderland AUs And I Was Wondering...

Beware of maxieprodmoore

Hello, this is a callout and warning of @//maxiepdmoore-art.

Me and alongside a couple of my TWST friends have been DMd by this user asking to draw our Yuu presumably for his own fetish, specifically people in swimsuits. Even after having been called out for his behavior, he has still kept going with the same spiel. He opened every conversation with the same message and same questions, all of the creator's OCs that he has asked to draw have been youthful and female presenting, one even a minor. Even when we ourselves told him what our OCs would wear to the beach he still tries to push us for the more revealing options he shared, when we have told him multiple times their preference and even given him pictures of what they would wear. none of us have actually received a drawing from him yet, but this behavior is still not acceptable.

Me

@dibbledoodle

@ashipiko

The girls are back in town

It’s the season of mushroom🍂

It's not that I don't want to visit, it just wasn't on the list I made in my head

Moshang establishing a weird degree of intimacy (for two people who are at least ostensibly not dating or anything) even early on in their relationship due to having known one another since their teens and both being, y'know. Weirdos.

Like Shang Qinghua has definitely dressed Mobei Jun. Toweled him off after a bath and put clothes on him because Mobei Jun is royalty and he just expects servants to do that, and Shang Qinghua was like, well, okay I guess we do this now I guess this is happening, and decided to just enjoy the view.

Mobei Jun prefers to sleep in beds that smell like Shang Qinghua. It just feels safer, and no he's not interrogating that impulse very deeply. He has food tasters who check his food for poison, and he's heard the term "bedwarmer" thrown around he's pretty sure this is just the same idea, a bed that's just all sterile sheets which don't smell like anyone but himself feels isolated and vulnerable and unsafe. So he'll nap in Qinghua's bed on An Ding, and whenever his servants wash out his sheets at his palace he'll drag SQH over and work him to exhaustion and then make him "warm his bed". Shang Qinghua thinks maybe Mobei Jun prefers a warm bed at night, the way that some humans prefer cool sheets? Like an ice demon thing? Whatever, his king's bed is still more comfortable than his, it has soft pillows and furs and everything so he's not looking a gift horse in the mouth.

Shang Qinghua has treated Mobei Jun's wounds. MBJ used to watch him like a hawk at first but after years of this happening with zero issue he stopped bothering, so between that and the "sometimes dresses his king" thing Shang Qinghua can basically move his limbs around and put stuff in his hands or even his mouth and smear ointment on him and etc and MBJ will just go with it. Sometimes Shang Qinghua worries about the amount of access Mobei Jun's servants apparently have to his person, but honestly none of the regular staff could actually get the same kind of uncritical compliance out of him. Just Qinghua.

Mobei Jun also sees no issue with physically picking Shang Qinghua and moving him around. He will literally throw him at problems he wants solved or carry him to situations he needs examined. Shang Qinghua is very portable and it expedites the process of him begging not to be asked to do something, to just toss him at it and make him sort it out right away instead.

Mobei Jun would also steal Shang Qinghua's clothing if there was any remote chance of it fitting him. Throwing his cloaks and things onto Shang Qinghua works fairly well though, it makes them smell like him which is still good. Shang Qinghua is rarely bold enough to steal Mobei Jun's clothes on his own, but if it's especially cold and no one else is around he's been known to grab part of Mobei Jun's cloak (often while he's still wearing it) and wrap it around himself.

GRIMMMMMMMM

MY BABY........

Please give him stuffed toys 🥺

OKOKOK HAIII

ace, deuce, grim + ramshackle ghosts reacting to yuu giving them a well thought out, obviously took over a week gift!

like ace could get a handpainted deck fo cards that have hisoved ones faces on them

deuce could get a course to learn how to legally drive a blastcycle (all theory)

grim could get a grim sized proper nrc uniform with loads worth of tuna (?)

the ramshackle ghosts can get a well researched book written by yuu that has all information avaliable about ramshackles past with a renovated room that looks exactly like one from when ramshackle was in its prime

genre: platonic

no need to use my idead and feel free to ignore me!

bye bye ty !!

REACTIONS: A Thoughtful Gift

Characters: Ace, Deuce, Grim, and the Ramshackle Ghosts

A/N: I'll derogate from the idea for Deuce's gift

He accepts it with a teasing smile

He can't help but tease. It's his love language!

But then he opens the clumsily gift wrapped box and sees a Deck of Handmade Cards. They're not perfect, the lines a lil wonky, but it showed how much effort you gave for the gift.

He thanks you. Sincerely this time. What? Ace can be mature sometimes. He knows how to read a room! Don't give him the surprise look!

He uses the cards to practice his magic tricks, but is also very careful with them. He doesn't want one to get lost after all. He's gonna ask one of his upperclassmen to teach him a preservation spell so the card's painting won't wore off and it'll be safe from wear-and-tear.

He almost shed some tears

It was perfect! How thoughtful of you to gift him a pair of sports sweats headband!And then he turns the gift to the other side and its embroidered with his name! Its clumsy but its so obviously made by you, you even embroidered a lil spade on the end of his name.

He hugs you in a tight bro-hug! He promises he definitely wear during his Track and Field training!

And he does and he brags about it to everyone who asks (or don't ask) about his new headband.

Grim is boasting about his NRC Uniform!

You have sewn it perfectly to fit him! He's so happy and he's even jumping in glee, you cheering along while you captured his reaction on camera.

It was quite a feat to get his measurements while he was sleeping to keep the surprise a secret, but it was all worth it!

Grim will strut around NRC full of pride wearing his uniform. Even the professors don't scold him as harshly when he's so loud but what's more cute than a cat direbeast in uniform?

Oh they're so thankful!

How wonderful you are! You even edited and restored old photos to create an album for them.

It's like they're back from the past! It makes them truly nostalgic.

They begin telling you stories about their time and about their past.

Theu even give you ye olde gossips and secrets they wouldn't tell other students

Why not? You're their special prefect!

I found it funny that Shang Qinghua is essentially Pygmalion and Mobei Jun is his Galatea, but he is the one who feels the Pygmalion effect. They are the continuation of the ending of the myth when Pygmalion now have to deal with the consequences of Galatea becoming a real person with her own thoughts than the idolized marble.

Prompt: "You, whose image the Dark Mirror did beckon forth... If your heart bids it, take the hand of the one reflected in the mirror."

Pairing: Dire Crowley and GN!Prefect/ Yuu/ MC

Genre: Yandere (platonic)

TW: Yandere Dire Crowley, crow man's delusional and literally does not give two fucks, just generally creepy vibes all around.

AN: I am so, so, so sorry for what you are about to read now lol. If you get too confused in the middle, don't worry, I was just as confused writing this but my brain just wouldn't rest until I finished and posted this so here we are. The basic summary of this is that Yuu or the Prefect is trapped in an endless cycle because Crowley overblotted. You might have to read this twice or thrice to understand the how and why <3

He knows.

From the moment he sees them, he remembers.

He remembers and he watches as they do it again.

And again.

And again.

A puppet, unaware of their being handled by someone else, someone kinder and gentler who just wants to keep them safe and sound.

Even if it means trapping them in an endless cycle.

Even if he is the only one who sees and notices and remembers.

Dire Crowley cuts an imposing figure as he stands in his office, facing an ornate mirror. Not the Dark Mirror, no. This particular mirror has its roots in mystical arcane magic, from the times of Jupiter and when the Titans roamed free. Dire has a faint memory of his mother, the Crowley Matriarch, telling him to be careful with it, to pass it down to his heir as she had, to him.

Crystal clear, it beckons to him to reveal himself. To bare himself, imperfections and flaws laid out in the privacy of his office for it to see.

A selfish, sadistic desire to pick apart every carefully constructed lie, each bejeweled facade to show the utter mess of a man that lies beneath it all arises in him; he finds himself indulging in it more often than he likes to admit.

The masked man removes his mask for what is not the first time, and most certainly would not be the last. Sharp golden eyes look on as black ink, once held within the confines of his mask, drips down his face. Times like these make him wonder and marvel at how he has not met his demise yet.

Fingers adorned with golden claws rise and touch the blot, marveling at how cold it feels as it stains his skin. Lesser mages would have been dead long ago, Crowley knows this. Slight dread rises in him at the thought, knowing that his magic reserves are long finished; he lives on borrowed time and magic.

But then again, who cares? As long as he can have them here, where they belong, safe and sound-

A knock resonates through the room, startling the headmage. He quickly puts the mask on his face again and clears his throat, saying, "Come in."

He watches as they walk in, no doubt to complain about something, or to talk about their financial situation. Perhaps he should increase their allowance? After all, it is their being, their magic that sustains him, and allows him to live through these lifetimes watching over the unassuming, now magicless human he had imprinted on and the students they had endeared themself to.

Crowley watches as they speak, unable to stop his lips from curling up into a smile. He hems and haws and lies through his teeth about not being able to find them a way back.

He sees the light in their eyes dim; it is a small change, one that doesn't stay for long. But the magicless human is precious to him, and so he observes them. He watches them leave his office silently, a stark contrast to when their impatience and indignance have them cursing his name to the skies. No outcome, no outburst of their emotions will be able to move his cold, frozen heart to thaw, however; they belong to Twisted Wonderland, as Twisted Wonderland belongs to them.

In their first lifetime, Crowley recalls with the fondness of a father thinking of his grown-up child, they did possess magic; far different in nature, but magic nonetheless. And powerful too, considering the aura of it radiated from their being even as something stopped them from being able to use it.

Crowley wonders if it was so that he could see how invaluable, how indispensable they were.

How the entirety of Twisted Wonderland was made for them.

He did try, the first time, to find them a way back home. Endless efforts were dedicated to researching the existence of universes and multiverses. Of course, such exhaustive research would take time, time which he saw them spend getting close to the students of Night Raven College and fighting overblots.

Seven overblots, in the span of one year.

A record untouched by any other being, mage or otherwise. A record they kept making each and every lifetime they spent in the loop. A record that became his new normal, so much so that he no longer gives more than a cursory glance to the overblots and their aftermath.

He knows how it all ends, after all.

In their first lifetime, his efforts had bore fruit. His studies revealed a way to connect the Dark Mirror to their plane of existence, through the use of the very mirror that was hidden behind his back. His blood had run cold at the revelation, and he spent the next few weeks? months? looking for alternatives. For other ways to be able to send them back.

Until one day, the Prefect found out.

As they angrily interrogated him for the reasons behind his silence, asking him why he would not send them back even though there was a way, he realized exactly why he was hesitant about sending them back.

Crowley had no spouse, no children. But the mirror, the mirror which had been in his family for generations, needed an heir. One who could gain control over it, rather than have it control them like it did with so many of his ancestors, including his mother.

Surely the one dubbed a beast-tamer could tame such a dangerously powerful magical artefact?

He desperately begged and bargained with them, trying to change their mind. Trying to entice them into staying forever in Twisted Wonderland, as his heir. He offered them gold and silver, riches beyond what one would expect a man like him to have. He offered them the immense honour and prestige that came with being a deity that the entirety of Twisted Wonderland bowed to.

But they... they refused to stay. The only thing that was in their mind was to go home. Why couldn't they get it through their head that Twisted Wonderland was meant to be their home?

The aftermath of that argument... Crowley's memories are hazy at best. He remembers waking up in a pool of blot, the sticky ink covering his hands and the top of his face, dripping constantly. He remembers the mirror glowing as he dragged himself to it like a mindless moth flies to the flame even with the risk of getting burned.

Words had slipped through his mouth like the prayers of the devout at the altar of their deity, the faint and familiar hum of magic accompanied by a slight crackle of dark miasma.

"Ah, my dear esteemed benefactor... My proud, beautiful flower of evil. You are truly the fairest one of all," he had spoken, not knowing exactly what spell he was casting. All he knew, was that he was succumbing to the mirror, the same way his mother had; the same way all of his ancestors had, giving into the madness that such unchecked power and magic could create.

"O magic mirror, thy wisdom I entreat... Reveal unto me the visage I seek.." A vision of them, standing on the other side of the mirror, had Crowley try to reach out to them. His hand grazed the solid glass, before passing through it. He watched as their eyes widened and they took a step back.

"You, whose image the Dark Mirror did beckon forth... If your heart bids it, take the hand of the one reflected in the mirror." A shiver of thrill ran up his spine as they gingerly placed their hand in his after giving his words some thought, even with all the doubt in their eyes. He curled his fingers around their warm hand, and pulled.

He later found out that, during his overblot, he had managed to trap a significant portion of their soul in the mirror that was his family heirloom. The mirror rejected their magic, foreign as it was, and somehow those powers transferred themselves over to Crowley.

The words Crowley spoke, was the way to invoke their soul and bring them back each time they left Twisted Wonderland. A reset button, if you will.

Every time they show the slightest hint of wanting to leave, the slightest glimpse of understanding that he is the one they need to defeat in order to go home, he resets. Memories get wiped and Twisted Wonderland moulds beneath his gold-plated fingertips to what it was before. They say time waits for no man, but then again, Dire Crowley is more monster than human now. And so it bends to his will, but not without taking away his memories as well.

But then he sees them.

And he remembers.

Shrimp Yuu looks like they would sound crinkling like aluminum foil and I love them.

The ace house