*Yuu, Calls Ace And Deuce*

GRIMMMMMM!!!!!!

TWSTOBER DAY 24:

GRIM

Ramshackle's rascal. Grim you have my heart my lil dude 😭😭😭😭😭

-> Day 23: Malleus Draconia

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TWSTOBER DAY 23:

MALLEUS DRACONIA Diasomnia's tragic king. THE REASON WHY THE SHADING COLOR CHANGED SLIGHTLY IS BC MY THE PEN IVE BEEN USING FOR TWSTOBER RA

-> Day 24: Yuu

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TWSTOBER DAY 25:

YUU Ramshackle's wanderer. So I drew what I think Yuu looks like canonically for Day 1: OC, so I guess this is me as Yuu...??? -> Day

.

GRIMMY!!!! OUR BOY!!!! THE CUTEST OF PIES!!!!

grimmy!!!

i know im on the people loving freaky animals website but you people need to understand that a lot of attention for animal conservation is driven by how ""traditionally cute"" or likeable animals are to the general public. yes eels ARE cute i agree! theyre my favourite animal!! i love their little faces, and the way the move, and the way they open and close their mouths with empty stares but if i mention how amazing eels are to a random person i reckon 85% of the time they give me looks like they have absolutely no idea where they're coming from.

if you showed the general public a picture of a new zealand longfin eel and a hector's dolphin (both endangered, both found only in NZ) and asked which species should get more conservation funding i can near guarantee the general consensus would be that the dolphin deserves more. just because it's more appealing to the human eye. that's why im so mad. both of these creatures are important, neither deserves to go extinct. but people don't pay attention to the slimy writhers, they like the ones that are cute or cool or useful.

this is a tired rant from someone who's getting people misreading their post, but i see it in so many conservation workers or people who work with endangered species. lovers of plants or parasites or beetles or any number of amazing species that have their plight ignored by the general public for not being one of the pretty ones. we need to separate an animals usefulness from how many people like the way it looks.

I cannot add more to this, this is the embodiment of a Grim fan.

No because I don't think you understand how much I love this little gremlin, he's one of the biggest menaces to society and he's so adorable while at it, like, just look at himmmmmm, I swear to God or Great Seven if anything happens to my son I will kill everyone in this universe and then myself

I WILL PROTECT MY CHILD NO MATTER FUCKIN WHAT

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.

I thought of something. So you know how Grim calls Yuu/Mc "henchman"? Naturally, the first thought is having superiority over them and filling up his ego, but what if it is something else?

In stories at one point a someone close to the protagonist will betray them like friends or siblings, but with the villains very rarely the henchmen betray them unless they have prolonged contact with the "good guy" or the villain is abusive to the henchman.

What if Grim calls you henchman because he trust that you will never leave him and maintains his ideal goal of being someone important?

Since he is always by your side and doesn't harm you, there is no reason for you to turn your back towards the Great Grim, right?