I'm Looking At The Only 15 Groovied Cards I Have, And It's Mostly Grim And Rook? (I Don’t Have Enough

I couldn't figure out on android, but go to export file, and it will save a "save file" onto your computer, then go to saveeditonline and just upload the save file. To find the description, just ctrl f and scroll. Quick note, unless you met Mickey, they will not show up in the files. I saw it through a reddit thread.

I finally figured out how to look at my save files to see what the description for each of the love interests, and I am not kidding that 5 out 8 of each playthrough says that Avery is a ginger. I am wheezing.

Also that there is a 50% chance that Robin is blonde.

something that bothers me just a little bit is how much the svsss fandom plays up the "beef" between sqq and sqh.... sqq is like. a bit mean. as banter!! by the end of the story it's more For The Bit than because of any genuine "hatred". sqq doesn't insult sqh every time they meet and he isn't always denying their friendship (if anything it's the other way around lol, see chapter 14). he isn't constantly agressively beating him with his fan. afaik he only actually beats him up one time - in chapter 21, after the shen jiu thing and after sqh teases him about regret of chunshan. sqq doesn't bully sqh and sqh really isn't the pathetic wet hamster people think he is :(

Bless the fan translators of light novels and Mangas on bootleg websites. A kiss on the forehead from your choice of higher being.

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.

Is it just me or does anyone else ever think about how lonely Grim would’ve been if he didn’t decide to break into NRC, or how different it’d be for him if Yuu never attended NRC?

Or does anyone else think about how he would react if Yuu left?

Like as far as we know, Yuu is probably the closest thing to a family he’s had as he was abandoned since he was a kitten. Not much is known besides the fact that he said he “woke from the darkness all alone”. Yuu is the closest thing he has to a friend or even a family member at that.

Now I’m not a writing account but…

Imagine how he’d react if Yuu leaves, clinging onto Yuu and asking if they’re at least gonna come back and if he’ll ever see them again. I think it’d be even more heartbreaking for him if Yuu left while he would be asleep.

He’d be absolutely lonely without Yuu, having no one. Well, no one as close as Yuu was to him. Even if he has the others such as Ace and Deuce or the dorm ghosts to chat with, it’s not the same for him without Yuu. No one to bribe him with tuna, no one to carry him around NRC, no one to tell him “good morning”. Imagine Grim trying to introduce himself and out of habit he says “and this is my henchhuman—“ before stopping himself, remembering Yuu isn’t there anymore.

What if he starts wondering how Yuu is in their world?

What if he starts to fear that Yuu forgot them?

What if he’s scared of forgetting Yuu?

Just a thought I had.

YES

Ok I lied I have art that was too fun not to share

Listen- I need combative “I hate you bro but I would also die for you” platonic cumplane

I need Shang Quinghua calling Shen Quingqui a hussy and a harlot

I need Shen Quingqui to respond with a full bodied cathartic “bitch” I need them to be venting out frustrations every 2 seconds and ruthlessly gossiping the next. I need them to immediately turn on anyone that talks shit on the other.

Pls for my health.

i think we should all make our own ortho gears the way we make miku sonas / our own miku designs btw

img is a frame from Sincerely_Me.exe by //飴玉電圧

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.

Y'all twst ocs are too pretty not to be canon 😭

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.