{never enough}
(t: i'm hungry, ouch!)
chaos, inside and out.
!updated! sorry, fixed his stripes.
*Yuu, calls Ace and Deuce*
*Ace and Deuce in the Cafeteria*
Ace: Put it on loud speaker, I'm eating.
Deuce: Alright.
*Puts the call on loud speaker, but the cafeteria is so noisy with buzzling students so it doesn't really matter *
Yuu: Hey, so you guys remember that my dorm needs to make a booth for the interschool festival?
Deuce: Yes? Do you need some help?
Yuu: Yeah, do you have extra cans of red paint at Heartslabyul.
Ace:*eats then swallows*Sure, but you owe me. *picks up water*
Yuu: Yeah yeah. Sure.
Deuce: What booth are you planning to do?*peeling a boiled egg*
Yuu: A kissing booth.
Ace:*chokes on his drink*
Deuce:*Crushes the egg*
Yuu: Hello? helloooo?
*Cafeteria goes quiet*
Ace:*ends the call*
*Sounds of several approaching footsteps*
Deuce: I sense danger.
Ace: *About to flee* Way ahead of you.
Everytime I see the Shang twins, I just want a comedy fanfic of og Qinghua trying to be conniving but also have to deal with the disaster that is his brother and boss's courting. Or at least Mobei-Jun vs in-law shenanigans on trying to court airplane.
When your brother wants to betray the powerful demon king you both work for but you know that's NOT going to end well so you try to convince him not to do it but he's also seen those LUSTFUL gazes you do to said demon and calls you out
On a moshang kick but there's just something extremely compelling about the idea of Mobei Jun spending years expecting Shang Qinghua to betray him, getting impatient waiting for the axe to drop, deliberately creating opportunities for Shang Qinghua to betray him, still no betrayal happens, until eventually it gets to the point where Shang Qinghua has like, the fantastical demon king equivalent of Mobei Jun's credit card numbers and a joint account and free access to his bedroom and food and a great big cabinet full of poison and his detailed schedule and the exact time when he'll be bathing naked with no weapons under the moonlight at the one time every five years when all ice demons temporarily lose their powers for a full night and etc etc. Mobei Jun is doing trust falls (even though he doesn't know it) but Shang Qinghua just keeps catching him.
Until the whole lack of explicit communication and cultural differences thing explodes, and even then the big betrayal that finally happens is that Shang Qinghua saves Mobei Jun's life but then LEAVES HIM, he GOES AWAY, he doesn't even push Mobei into his own metaphorical abyss he just goes "this isn't worth putting up with anymore" and forces Mobei Jun to confront the fact that in his determination to be reassured he actually failed to prove himself to Shang Qinghua in return, which reduces Mobei Jun to a shattered wreck struggling to figure out how to fix it.
Feel free to use them! They started off as a silly project but I got hooked and finished all 7! They’re great for a TWST campaign, or even just to grab for a character that you think would be in that dorm
I only ask you don’t repost them, edit them (aside from adding character/OC information ofc), or crop out my signature
MUSIC FOR EELS!!
GRIMMMMMMMM
MY BABY........
HERE COMES THE BOY!
Hello boy~
How are you~
Here he is~
The bestest of boys!!!!
Very cute!!!
Best way to start the new year is to draw Grimjinka.... Junos baby brotherr...
For his design i tried to emulate things like his white fur by giving him a scarf...(also I think under his shoes soles there are pawprints..
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.