#through the mirror

[adventurelandia]

Through the Mirror (1936)

[creator1mpersonator]

Through the Mirror

00. Prologue

Inspired by Coraline, reader is gender-neutral, no use of Y/N.

This new home was painfully dreary. Based on the copper-colored bricks that built up the walls and the immensely overgrown shrubbery around it, you assumed this was a pre-war building. There were neighboring houses, but they all looked as copper, lifeless, and boring as yours. As you assisted your parents unload the U-Haul, you saw a little girl ride past on her little bike with the expression of a Victorian child—poor thing, so young and living in a place with the mental stimulation of the color beige. Your father procured the key from one of his pockets, slotting it into the rusty doorknob and turning it. The door simply opened by itself, and you heard him mumble something about fixing it to himself before entering. Your mother followed, waving away cobwebs with her hand. You remained outside for a moment, and it wasn’t until you heard your mother shriek your name that you picked up a box and scampered inside.

The inside of the home was, predictably, as depressing as its exterior. Dusty, with cobwebs along walls like terrible little decorations. You screamed when you saw a cockroach scuttle past your feet, its wretched antenna going this way and that before fleeing out the open front door.

“Bugs, great. Just what I need.” Your mother muttered in a rather disgruntled tone, arms crossed over her chest. She seemed even more upset by this move than you were, even if it was supposed to be good for her and your father’s job. Not that you even knew what it was that they did.

“Nothing an exterminator can’t fix, honey.” Your father said in a cheerful tone, ever the optimist.

“Exterminators cost money. Money we don’t have.” Your mother retorted, killing another roach beneath her shoe with a rather cruel stomp that sounded throughout the empty house.

“You’ll see,” your father began, “things will be just fine.”

“Yeah, right.”

Your father sighed, and you gave him a sympathetic smile before setting the box you were holding down on the dusty hardwood floors.

“___” your mother called out, “go pick out your room.”

You nodded, walking past your at-odds parents and heading up the stairs. There was an old carpet that lined the hallway, like in picture books. It was a faded blue and you think there were once flowers printed on the fabric. You decided to walk on the regular hardwood instead when the carpet began to squish under your feet. You don’t think the carpet was supposed to do that. 

You peered into different rooms, making keen observations about each one that would help you pick out the least worst one. One room had a hole in the floor, your mother was gonna blow a gasket when she saw it. The next room sent you running out of it when you saw the cockroaches gathered around like a council of terrible little things. The third room you saw was the one you picked. Compared to the last two, it wasn’t in a state of disrepair nor did it make your skin crawl. It was bland because of course it was, but you figured some paint, furniture, and decorations could fix it right up. Two windows let natural light inside your bedroom, there was a closet with bi-fold doors, and a mirror.

The mirror caught your attention the most. It was undoubtedly an antique, the glass of the mirror surrounded by a golden border with swirling decals carved into it. It was beautiful and vaguely reminded you of the Evil Queen’s mirror in Snow White. 

“Mom!” You called out, “Come up here!”

You heard footsteps come up the stairs, a disgusted sound when the carpet squished beneath her foot, an angry sigh at the hole in the floor, and a shriek when she found the council of roaches before she finally found your room.

“Couldn’t have told me what room you were in?” She sighed, arms still crossed.

“Sorry.” You said, before quickly changing focus, “check out this mirror.”

Your mother glanced at the mirror briefly, eyebrow raised.

“It’s creepy”

“I think it looks pretty.” You defended.

“Sweetheart, are you sure you don’t wanna get rid of that one and just get a new mirror?” Your mother asked.

“I’m sure.”

She sighed.

“As long as you’re happy, bug.”

You wouldn’t begin to understand the trouble that mirror would get you into until that night.

[weirdlookindog]

Colecção Terror #91 - Agência Portuguesa de Revistas, Portugal, May 1981.

[patricktsao]

Through the Mirror - a tribute to indie game Crying Suns, by AltShift "Thank you, for everything you've done... not just in this life, but in hundreds of others."

[lyraoctaviawrites]

If there was a world out there where all the ideas created by our brilliant minds could be real… would it be a dream come true?

Or a nightmare worth remembering?

Through the Mirror, the prologue and first three chapters of Into the Phantasm Part 1: The Silver Mirror is out now! Check it out and join Sarah, Maya, Lillian and Kora at the very beginning of their sprawling, wondrous and sometimes downright ridiculous journey Into the Phantasm…

@kaylinalexanderbooks @aziz-reads @dyrewrites @arimonsterwolf @when-dreams-feel-too-real @neko-podboom You have all expressed an interest in the series once before so I decided to tag you so you know for sure about the release. Hope that’s okay :3

[crmsnmth]

Through The Mirror

The movements in the mirror are not my own Even with my face being reflected back

I don't recognize the lines around the gray eyes Or the scars on the corners of my mouth

I stand still to prove that this is actually a window And not the reflective silver that it's supposed to be

There is a whole universe staring back at me and beyond that I can hear the call of the void

I watch as this doppelganger beckons me With one finger as if I was a child

I place my hands on the glass And it ripples like a rock thrown into water

It's so cool to the touch, almost freezing and this other me grabs my delicate wrist

And I am pulled through this liquid membrane into a dimension I never thought was true

We trade places and I am fine as he walks away I didn't want my life anyway, he can have it

The world inside is not so different from the one I thought was real Everything looks just like it should

Somehow though I know I don't belong here Because I'm facing the wrong direction

I stare out the liquid fence Waiting for my reflection to wink back

[zmeydeva-arch]

some bullet points FOR ME as i develop this new loz verse

the twili are descended of the sheikah clan according to my own personal interpretation when looking at the similarities between the magical/technological advancement of both groups ( i am aware this isn't a groundbreaking concept i just want to make it clear this is the take i accept as blog canon! ) also the yiga clan is proof enough that sheikah going against the hylian crown is no news! i would say they are just an echo of the twili that came before them except they weren't punished for their descent with banishment.

zoya is one of the first twili queens perhaps even one of the first magicians to start help build their society as we see it in tp. because of this she doesn't exactly look like midna or zant or later twili generations. since banishment the twilight dwellers have not yet evolved to better suit their environment. zoya sits somewhere in the middle not quite twili and not quite sheikah and not quite hylian.

reigning in order and beginning a monarchy was a bloodbath given who the founders of the twilight realm were ( magicians willing to stop at nothing to expand their power even attempting to steal the triforce and corrupt the sacred realm ) when zoya awakens as the dusk dragon due to the influence of being seeping in shadow magic she is crowned for her power. the line of succession follows this pattern of choosing the most adept spell-caster in the realm. that being said, it could still very well be possible that midna is one of her descendants since a lot of magical power IS inherited.

zoya makes it her life's work to advance the twili so they can become a formidable opponent against the hylians again. she is hellbent on restoring former glory and also re-learning sheikah technology that been lost in their banishment. she does succeed and piecing together a new portal to travel back but when testing its efficacy she ends up stranding herself in hyrule long before the invasion of twilight and she must make her way in a land that is now utterly unfamiliar to her now

[bestboielectric]

Through the looking glass ~ are ye comin’?

[comicuniverse]

Dylan Dog - Attraverso Lo Specchio (Through The Mirror), 1987.

No.10

Publisher: Sergio Bonelli Editore

Cover: Claudio Villa

[badluck990]

I just have to deal with the fact that my opt is a black circle and a white square.

[prokopetz]

You wouldn't think that I'd be brain-poisoned by video game speedrunning jargon, given that I didn't get into speedrunning until I was in my 30s, and surely that's too old for anything to have a formative influence upon one's vocabulary, but you'd be wrong: I am now cursed with the inescapable knowledge of how much the names of many 1990s indie rock groups and albums sound like the the names of obtuse precision platformer speed tech. You could tell me that "Neutral Milk Hotel" is the name of a trick in the current Celeste any%, and if I didn't already know that's a band I wouldn't question it.

[gattaxa]

YELENA BELOVA in THUNDERBOLTS* (2025) dir. Jake Schreier

When all you have left to hold on to is a green tactical vest, a tub of hair gel, and a stolen guinea pig.

Bonus:

[creator1mpersonator]

Through the Mirror

01. Fascination Street

Inspired by Coraline, reader is gender-neutral, no use of Y/N, google translate french

Taglist: @agaygothicmushroom

Dinner that night came from a local fast food joint that was wholly unremarkable. Everything in that town was unremarkable, it seemed. Your father, bless his soul, was doing his best to make the most of this abrupt change while your mother remained less than pleased about the whole thing (despite this whole move being for their job.) After dinner was done, you helped clean up and jumped at the opportunity to take out the trash so you could escape the stuffy tension between your parents for just a few seconds. You went outside, holding the Glad bag by the knot as you walked to the trashcan by the side of your home.

You took in your street’s appearance at night. The neighboring houses were dark, and a few light posts emanating a harsh orange light stood tall in the street. It was almost eerie, but perhaps that was just your perception. You tossed the bag inside the trashcan and walked back inside. Your mother had left the kitchen table, leaving your father alone to work on his laptop. You felt a bit bad, offering him a smile of encouragement as you closed the front door and locked it for the night. You went up to your bedroom, looking through your boxes and backpack for an adequate set of pajamas for the night before you began unpacking the next day. You decided on a faded band tee and a pair of pants that had cats printed on them before changing and climbing into bed. The house was quiet, save for the groan of the house settling. After a while, you found yourself falling asleep.

When you woke up– or more adequately were woken up– everything was dark. You heard something tapping on glass, and you sat up to see a raven tapping its beak against the mirror. You were astounded to find a raven in your damn bedroom of all places, until you realized you were surely dreaming. You got out of bed, socked feet pattering gently against the hardwood floors as you approached the bird. It cawed at you, tapping at the mirror a few more times before flying through.

Your eyes widened, not believing what you just saw. Even for a dream, that seemed far-fetched. It became more absurd when the mirror reflected swirls of purple as if trying to lure you in.

Even more absurd was the fact you crawled through. You climbed onto the dresser beneath the mirror and went through. It was just a dream, what's the harm?

You found yourself in an alluring tunnel of wonderful colors, and you crawled through into a lavish living area. The furniture was golden with plush purple velvet, the walls had a vintage-type wallpaper, and many extravagant chandeliers hung above you. You stood up to your full height, looking around and taking in the new space when you heard footsteps approaching. A short but rather pretty boy with fluffy lilacl hair and big blue eyes came into view, walking towards you with great purpose.

“There ya are!” he exclaimed, his southern accent heavy, “Vil’s gonna throw a damn tantrum if he don’t find ya!”

He was expecting you? Who was he? Who was Vil?

“I’m sorry, who are you?” You asked, taking a cautionary step back.

The boy blinked at you.

“Oh, yeah. Vil said ya’d be confused,” he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head, “Sorry ‘bout that. I’m Epel.”

“Ah, hi Epel.” You greeted, “I’m–”

“I know who ya are,” Epel cut you off.”

“...Right.”

“C’mon,” Epel said, turning around, “Vil’s gonna bite his manicure off if he don’t see ya soon.”

Seeing no other choice, you followed Epel. Besides, this place seemed fascinating and you wanted to see what’d happen next.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who’s Vil?” You asked Epel, falling into step next to him.

“A real hardass.” Epel grumbled, “He’s da queen of this place, real pretty. He just don’t got the heart to match.”

You hummed, feeling a bit nervous about meeting this Vil now. Epel led you through the halls of the building, and you felt like you were being led through a maze. You also couldn’t help but notice that there didn’t seem to be anyone else there but you and Epel. But, just as you went to ask Epel, he led you into a grand common room. It was similar to the room you entered through, but a grand throne sat against the back wall. Peacock-like feathers sat behind it, decorating it with an air of grandeur and importance and you swore you heard Epel scoff before straightening up like a soldier being inspected.

On the throne sat a beautiful man, more than Epel described. He was tall with porcelain-like skin, and no imperfection was visible. He had shoulder-length blonde hair that faded into purple towards the ends and purple eyes. Another man was standing next to the throne, tall and an oddly fearsome smile sat on his face. He too had blonde hair, though his was styled like a bob and sharp green eyes. A hat with a large plume sat on his head.

“Is that them?” the man on the throne, Vil, asked. Epel nodded, and Vil approached you. He seemed almost happy to see you until he saw something that displeased him: your attire.

“What in the Seven are you wearing?” He asked you, eyes narrowed as he scrutinized your pajamas. You looked down to look at your attire.

“What’s wrong with it?” You timidly asked, feeling like a specimen beneath Vil's scrutinizing gaze.

“Please, Potato-” potato? “What isn’t wrong with it? This is hardly adequate for such a lovely being as yourself.” Vil huffed, as if his being in the presence of a faded The Cure was a personal offense.

“Rook,” Vil called, and the blonde man who stood next to him approached, “find suitable nightwear for our guest.”

“Of course, roi du poison.” Rook said, bowing in reverence and beaming at you before he walked out of the room. Vil sighed and moved some hair out of your face.

“Come along now, you two.” He said, beckoning you with a graceful wave of his hand. Epel followed like a sleeper agent, and you followed Epel.

“No doubt you are confused, potato.” Vil stated, continuing to use that nickname for you, “This is the dorm of the Fairest Queen, Pomefiore. I am the housewarden, and Rook is the vice-housewarden.”

“A dorm? So, this is like a school?” You asked. “Exactly. Aren’t you bright?” Vil hummed, and you couldn’t tell if he was being condescending or not. You also noticed that Vil was in no particular rush to give any context about the rest of the school, or of the other students that should’ve been there. It was a school, right?

Your surroundings were beautiful. You saw a vast landscape outside, and the halls of Pomefiore were clearly immaculate. If Vil was the leader, he certainly did a good job at it.

“This shall do nicely.” Vil said, stopping abruptly in front of a door and in your distracted state, you nearly bumped into Epel. Vil opened the door, revealing an uninhabited dorm. A large bed was in the middle, lacy white curtains hanging from the ceiling as a canopy. Two large stained glass windows were on the wall to the left, with deep red curtains. There was a dresser and nightstand, both of regal design, soft carpet and an empty desk. Warm lights shone above, giving an almost cozy atmosphere.

And above the desk was a mirror like the one in your true bedroom.

“Do you like it?” Vil asked you, and you nodded.

“It’s beautiful.” You said. “Good. I’d hate for you to stay in an inadequate room.”

“What do you mean?” “Well, this shall be your room for when you stay here,” Vil said, gently placing his gloved hands on your shoulders. That made you pause.

“What is this place?” You asked.

“It’s Pomefiore, darling.” Vil said, “I’ve already told you this.”

“No, I mean all of this. I’ve never heard of a place like Pomefiore.”

“Ah, well of course you haven’t. This is a world completely unlike your own.” Vil clarified, gently squeezing your shoulders.

You didn’t have much of a chance to ask any further questions before Rook found the three of you (with startling accuracy), holding something silken in his arms.

“I believe I’ve found something magnifique for notre petit trickster!” Rook happily exclaimed. Right, Vil sent him to find you proper pajamas.

“Wonderful, Rook.” Vil said as Rook laid the clothing onto your bed. It was light purple and silky, with the crest of Pomefiore on the breast pocket. It looked expensive and comfortable.

“I– Thanks, this is incredibly kind of you.” You said, and Rook’s off-putting smile only got wider.

“You have no reason to thank us, potato.” Vil said, gently lifting your head with the tip of his fingers beneath your chin, “we just wish to see you happy and comfortable.” Epel and Rook nodded in agreement.

“It is certainly late, you should sleep. A healthy sleep schedule is imperative for maintaining your beauty, you know.” Vil said, “do you need anything before we leave you be?”

You shook your head.

“Very well then. Goodnight, potato.” He squeezed your shoulder, before leaving. “Bonsoir, trickster.” Rook cooed, leaving second.

“Goodnight, ___.” Epel said, and you noticed his southern accent wasn’t noticeable in his voice the way it was before. He left last, closing the door behind him.

You changed into the silk pajamas Rook brought you, before crawling into bed. The warm lighting created a calming ambience, and you soon fell asleep.

When you woke up, you were back in your original bedroom. And despite it supposedly being a dream, you still had on the silk pajamas.

[theoldkyokodied]

good evening bloodweave enjoyers

[breedsblood]

Beyond The Black - Through The Mirror - Live Streaming With Tauri Reacts...

[lyraoctaviawrites]

Through the Mirror is releasing tomorrow

Don’t miss it