Yuu is a damsel, she's in distress, and she can't handle this. So she cedes control of her rapidly spiraling situation to someone who's all too happy to take it: Jade Leech. If nothing else, at least this school year promises to be an interesting one.
A Twisted Prologue
Yuu chooses not to pursue Ace for window-washing duty, and nothing is quite the same afterwards.
ㅤㅤㅤ🩷 Part 1ㅤㅤㅤ💜 Part 2ㅤㅤㅤ🩷 Part 3
A Twisted First Chapter
Coming soon...
One-shots (< 1k)
For Now
Floyd and Yuu have a discussion. [Link]
Finally got around to making a proper pinned post. This is my TWST-exclusive blog where I write a bit (slowly). For filtering purposes, everything is tagged as either personal #posts or #reblogs; you may or may not find mature content. To keep my motivation up, I may also bounce between multiple stories at once when writing; this does not mean I've abandoned others. Please note that I do not take commissions or requests for fanfics at this time, nor do I consent to using my work to train AI.
A little bit about me as a TWST fan: I'm an EN player, but I follow JP content to an extent, usually the highlights from memes and fanart. I can't draw, but I have a few twisted OCs that filter into my works as minor characters (whom I put way too much thought into for the amount of screen time they get). My favorite boys are... pretty obvious, but I don't really hate any of them. I'm not partial to any particular ships either, but I don't usually mind seeing/hearing about them. So if you want someone to chat with, I'm down for pretty much anything, although some things are better suited to DMs rather than asks.
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Just caught up with 7.5 after they added voices and I have to give a special thanks to Idia for always infodumping how magic stuff works. The lore fans and fanfic writers appreciate you
God I'm such a sucker for long hair; this series is the closest I'm getting to a full cast Tangled event. I like how Sebek's came out especially, it reminds me a bit of Icy but more lightning-ish.
Okay one more Mermay post for the road because Floyd was definitely onto something with this one (I saw this and immediately went down a sea slug rabbit hole). Anyway, I love the overblot inspiration/vibe OP
however now I'm dying for a sideview where he's gliding around on his stomach
I fully intend to keep enjoying your art in future Mays but this is definitely one of my favorites. Deuce 😭 why are you always so pretty?
Fun fact for people who don't know; the baby flamingos get pinker due to eating stuff like shrimp... do you think Deuce's tail would also get pinker if he ate shrimp because,
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I'm not sure if this was supposed to remind me of the scene from Finding Nemo or not, but it did... the first time we see Marlin really enjoying himself feels weirdly fitting to recreate with Jade, who's very in control of his expression most of the time.
Anyway, I like how ruffly his tail looks, and the squishiness of the jellyfish... I don't really know how to explain it, but this image has a lot of textures I like lol. I want to squeeze it
Its MerMay y'all, man I haven't drawn mers in a good while, I used to draw them all the time when I was little.
Sal would LOVE the mermaid life, just swim out and explore, hunt for treasure, look at cute sea creatures. Then her day gets ruined by some twins teasing her.
At least the twins like her enough to NOT let her get lost and die out in the wild.
Also made this little doodle cuz I was so busy with work I had no time to work on any comics ;u;
I want to make a zine with the mermaids I drew in May.
I needed something to fill the page, so I finished the Ortho sketch that had been collecting dust since May
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I'm a little late but I love this; the art is so smooth and the expressions are so perfect. Malleus's quiet fondness and Sebek's barely restrained objections are everything to me.
Other people's OCs: Carefully crafted appearance from scratch. Stunning, vibrant art.
My OCs: Hmm yeah these two are fine. I'll ignore any pre-established NPC lore/interactions and slap names on them. Meet Rick and Philip, roommates of Ace and Deuce.
I still think it's a missed opportunity that Heartslabyul doesn't put one of each card suit in their 4-person rooms
Expanding on the lore for these two:
Rick Skinner
"You are COOKING? How DARE you cook in MY kitchen! Where do you get the gall to attempt something so monumentally idiotic? I should have you drawn and quartered! I'll do it! I think the law is on my side!"
"Mark my words, the whole thing is HIGHLY suspect."
Normal right up until he's in his element, Rick comes off as a fairly chill person most of the time. However, there are three things that get him worked up like nothing else: his cooking, his height, and his conspiracy theories. Unfortunately, his ideas are often so mad that even if he hits close to something, no one takes him seriously.
Philip Anton
"You've been playing without an opponent, which is, as you may have guessed... against the rules."
"Perspective. Fresh out, I take it?"
Even at Riddle's absolute worst, Philip couldn't ask for a better housewarden. Rare is the day he meets someone as dedicated to upholding strict standards, and he will gladly do his part by throwing rulebreakers under the bus. But despite his general intensity and commitment to criticism of his peers, he is relatively open to new views, interpretations, and experiences.
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one more night by bts just has this dreamlike/syrupy haze to it and it made me think of vil so here we go
w.c: ~1.4k
Vil started staying over accidentally. At least, that was the lie he told himself during the first few weeks, back when the entire thing still was what he considered a temporary indulgence instead of the terrifying slow-creeping permanence it eventually became.
The first night had happened because rain flooded the streets hard enough to stall traffic into glittering unmoving rivers beneath the city lights, and Vil arrived at your apartment soaked from knee to shoulder despite the umbrella folded elegantly beneath his arm. His hair clung against his neck, pale gold gone several shades darker under the rainwater, and he looked deeply irritated because of circumstances he could not bully into obedience through sheer force of will.
You had opened the door wearing one of his old hoodies that had mysteriously migrated into your possession three weeks prior and never returned.
Vil noticed immediately because he noticed everything about you immediately.
“You’re dripping on my floor,” you informed him sleepily.
“And yet somehow your first concern is the hardwood instead of my well-being. Charming.”
“You survive fashion assassination attempts from stylists twice a month. I figured rain ranked lower.”
Vil stepped inside when you moved aside and your apartment had already begun developing the dangerous sensation of familiarity around him. The smell of whatever shampoo you use comforts him. Somewhere deeper inside, music drifted softly through the rooms, synth-heavy and dreamlike, floating melodies that made the apartment feel submerged underwater.
You had terrible taste in timing.
You had excellent taste in atmosphere.
“Take your shoes off before you ruin my rug too,” you added.
“How generous. Truly, your compassion knows no bounds.”
“You can leave if you want.”
Vil looked at you for one long deliberate second before reaching down to remove his shoes.
You smiled slightly in victory.
That expression ruined the rest of his evening immediately.
Afterward, the nights began stacking together slowly enough that neither of you noticed the accumulation until it was already far too late to pretend otherwise.
Vil would arrive after filming or interviews or rehearsals and the worst part, Vil eventually decided, was how naturally your apartment learned him.
The place adapted around his existence slowly enough that he only noticed once the transformation had already rooted itself into every room.
His preferred tea appeared stocked in your cabinets without discussion. The couch permanently carried the faint scent of his perfume soaked into the fabric from too many exhausted late nights collapsed sideways against the cushions. Your bathroom mirror became crowded with expensive skincare products arranged in neat gleaming rows beside your chaotic collection of half-empty bottles.
Even the lighting changed.
You started leaving lamps on instead of overhead lights because Vil complained once that bright lighting after midnight made him like he was still under the spotlight and afterward your apartment remained permanently dipped in warm gold and shadow.
It made everything softer.
The edges of furniture blurred slightly at night. Steam from the shower drifted lazily through hallways glowing amber beneath low lighting. Reflections stretched across windows after rainstorms while synth-heavy playlists hummed endlessly somewhere in the background, all slow basslines and dreamy melodies that wrapped around conversations until the nights themselves started feeling suspended outside ordinary time.
Vil became addicted to that feeling almost immediately.
He arrived one evening long after midnight to find you sitting on the kitchen counter eating strawberries directly from the carton while staring blankly into space.
“You look haunted,” he informed you after stepping inside.
You blinked slowly.
“You ever get so tired your bones feel microwaved?”
“What a deeply upsetting sentence.”
You held a strawberry toward him without looking.
Vil accepted it automatically.
Everything between you had become automatic; especially touch.
At some point during the past few months, both of you had stopped noticing the constant small collisions drawing you together throughout every night. Knees pressed together beneath blankets. Fingers brushing absentmindedly during conversations. Your ankle hooked lazily over his foot while sitting beside each other on the couch.
Vil found himself reaching for you unconsciously now.
A hand against your waist while passing behind you in the kitchen. Fingers smoothing your damp hair away from your face after showers. His thumb tracing idle circles against your wrist while neither of you paid direct attention to it.
The intimacy accumulated slowly until the apartment itself felt thick with it.
One night the two of you ended up in the bathtub again sometime around three in the morning after Vil complained his muscles hurt from rehearsals.
Your building’s hot water system was criminally inconsistent, meaning the bath had already begun cooling by the time you climbed in beside him.
Steam fogged the mirrors completely. Music drifted softly from your phone speaker across the room, muffled slightly beneath the sound of water shifting around both of you.
Vil leaned back against the tub with his eyes closed while you traced meaningless patterns through condensation gathered along the tile wall beside his head.
“What are you drawing,” he murmured sleepily.
“Nothing.”
“I'm calling it, it'll be a cat.”
“It’s abstract.”
Vil opened one eye just enough to look at you.
Your hair is damp, strands sticking lazily against your neck ans forehead while warm light from the lamps painted gold across your skin. You look relaxed and that has softened your entire expression. You looked loose around the edges somehow, comfortable in a way Vil rarely allowed himself to become around other people.
Then your finger drifted downward absentmindedly through the fogged tile until you drew a tiny heart directly beside his shoulder.
You stared at it afterward as if surprised by your own hand.
Vil’s chest tightened painfully.
The silence afterward stretched warm and heavy.
“Your hair is falling out of the clip,” you mumbled eventually.
“You say that every time I attempt to relax.”
“Because every time you attempt to relax you start unraveling physically.”
“You make me sound defective.”
Then your head drifted sideways against his shoulder naturally enough that he doubted you even consciously chose to do it.
The movement nearly stopped his heart anyway.
There were moments now where the closeness between you became almost overwhelming in its density. Nights where the apartment felt too warm despite open windows. Too quiet despite music playing softly in the background. Too full of unspoken affection pressing invisibly against every room.
Vil had never experienced emotional intimacy this prolonged before.
Passion, yes. Attraction, endlessly. Admiration from afar practically followed him professionally.
But this?
This slow drowning sensation of becoming intertwined with another person piece by piece until even solitude started feeling incorrect? That was new.
The nights grew stranger after that.
Sometimes the two of you would fall asleep halfway through conversations without meaning to. Vil sprawled across your bed still wearing reading glasses while you rambled softly beside him about absolutely nothing. One moment he would still be listening to your voice through heavy exhaustion, and the next he’d wake hours later to find your face pressed sleepily into his chest while dim blue morning light leaked through the curtains.
Other times neither of you slept at all.
The city would stretch endlessly outside your windows while music looped quietly through the apartment and both of you drifted through rooms half awake, sharing fruit directly from the fridge at four in the morning or brushing teeth side by side while Vil lectured you.
“You use entirely too many products,” you informed him one night while leaning against the bathroom counter.
“You use entirely too few.”
“My skin survives.”
“Barely.”
“You looked at my face and said barely.”
“I say many truthful things.”
“You’re evil.”
“And yet you continue allowing me into your home.”
You stared at him through the mirror for several long seconds before dissolving into helpless laughter again.
Vil watched your reflection quietly while smoothing moisturizer across his skin.
Then slowly, without fully thinking about it, you wandered toward him and rested your forehead against his shoulder.
Vil immediately wrapped an arm around your waist.
Your sigh against him sounded so soft it almost disappeared beneath the music.
That sound haunted him for days afterward.
The closeness became greedy over time and then increasingly impossible to ignore.
Vil started lingering after kisses instead of pulling away immediately. He started touching your face absentmindedly during conversations. He was staring too long whenever sleepiness made your expression go soft around the edges.
And every single night ended the same way.
With Vil wanting one more hour.
One more song. One more conversation. One more moment stretched beneath dim apartment lighting while the outside world remained mercifully distant.
Because inside your apartment, surrounded by low music and warm shadows and the unbearable sweetness of your presence wrapped around every room, Vil sometimes felt frighteningly close to happiness so complete it bordered on unreality.
Not much of a Vil fan (not not a Vil fan), but I like this one. You definitely captured a certain atmosphere of hazy bliss. I feel like it somehow is and isn't domestic fluff because it always comes back to the underlying question of permanence.
What do you think the RSA boys woud be in this AU?
Auuuugh preparing a batch of those asks I still have sitting around!!!!
Here's what I think they'd be, now that I have encountered them all.
Matagots are cats that bring fortune to their masters as long as they are properly taken care of. If not, they become cruelly vengeful. In some versions, it is said that matagots serve 9 masters throughout their lives and that the 9th they serve will be dragged in hell. It has been speculated that Puss in boots could be a variation of a matagot.
Since matagots are usually depicted as black cats I want to think that this che'nya dyes his hair to trick ppl or just not be shunned or shooedin general.
Dame blanches are kind of common through all europe, the ghastly looking ladies in white seen at nigth. Are they witches ? ghosts ? fairies ? depends on the tales. chose that for Neige to keep the Blanche thing going, heh (+ his super tiny friends)
And ofc charlatans vs the actual guy. Ankou is a version of the grim reaper from brittany/bretagne. He isn't death incarnate, but a servant of death.
Ankou Skully omg... first time encountering my niche interest in the wild, and it's for my favorite fandom. He fits so well for it too. I love how his scythe is so much bigger because he's the real one lol