#but that's probably beyond me. and again. i don't even game!!

[bi-panicatthedisco]

Beyond The Screen.

Diasomnia Part.

[woo, last one! Just finished Silver and Sebek today, and I'm so tired. Also somehow actually making all these posts is taking an hour??? But hey, it was fun even if it was a little stressful trying to keep the characterization right. I'll probably take a week or so break, but this was amazing to write! Hope you like this story! And remember to drink some water and get some rest! I hope you have a great rest of your day!!!]

One of the last things you would've expected after downloading a game like twisted wonderland, is for the characters to leave the dang game and show up irl! But things rarely go as you expect, and this is something it's nice to be wrong about.

It was a pretty regular day when it happened, just sitting down and playing twst. Only for an impromptu single pull on the banner, turning into SSR particles and a fancy coffin. Of course you're getting excited. But instead of showing your new card, you have the character fall right out of your screen onto the floor in front of you. Oh goodness gracious...

---------------Malleus Draconia----------------

Malleus easily caught himself with magic, standing serenely as he looks down at your form. This is the player? Well, they certainly seem... Intriguing. He smiles as he leans down, taking your hand to help you stand up.

"So you're the human behind the screen, you've always been a bold one. Were your words true? Believe me I heard every one, so do they still hold true in this world, or are you now afraid having seen me face to face? I hope that's not the case."

He places a finger under your chin, lifting your face so your eyes are locked onto his. He still has a smile on his face as he laughs softly, before eventually letting his hand fall. Then he turns around to look around the room, it's an interesting style he supposes. Is this the style you prefer? He'll have to make a note of that, considering he arrived uninvited, when he gets a gift for you later as an apology. Before turning back around to look you over, taking you in in your entirety. Never having had the chance before this through the screen.

Really he's more than intrigued by this point, the words you said and actions you've done are more than enough. And yet you're unafraid, you may or may not be nervous, but not because he's a Draconia. This feeling... He hasn't felt it since meeting the prefect, only to later learn it was you who controled them to say that. Meaning, it must be your feelings as well, yes? ...although he came here uninvited, he hopes you'll allow him to stay nonetheless.

-a few months later-

Your world is almost perfect. Here he is free to be himself, and people aren't instantly terrified of his presence. And this world has you in it, what a light you've become for him. Yes he does sometimes keep you from leaving to your job/school/anything else, but he gets worried. Your world is nearly perfect, just not quite. There's still danger in it, especially for a human like yourself. It's a horrifying thought for Malleus, so he prefers it when you're safe and sound at home (preferably in his arms)

But despite his minor grievances with this world (like the appalling shortage of gargoyles.) he still wishes to stay here with you as long as he can. He knows he cannot hide from his responsibilities as the heir apparent of briar valley forever, but he doesn't want to risk bringing you there where you face the dangers of being associated with him. From humans and fae alike. This should be obvious, and yet you still ask when he plans to go home. Really if you were anyone else, he wouldn't hesitate to lash out at this point! It's infuriating!

"Ah, there you are. I wondered where you had gone. I... This again? Player, we've been over this. I do not wish to leave you. Don't give me that face, it's true. What can I do to convince you? You must give me something, I cannot read your mind. How do I convince you how much I'd miss you if you were out of my life?"

Malleus sighs before walking over to you, hold your face in his hands. He would miss you as much as the moon would miss the sun. So please, stay in his sight a little longer.

-----------------Lilia Vanrouge-----------------

Lilia popped out of the screen with a "boo!" Causing you to jump out of your seat, which makes him laugh. He has a mischievous grin on his face as floats to the floor, tilting his head and winking adorably

"There's the reaction I like to see, it's good to meet you player! Khehehe, I suppose I don't need to introduce myself, do I? But I will anyway! I'm the always adorable Lilia! But you may call me Lils. You will, won't you player? If you don't, you'll break an old man's heart! You will? Yay~"

As he smiles, he goes around the room. Looking over every detail. It's certainly nice, but it could stand to be more fun! He'll have to make sure he gets you plenty of gifts to fill up all blank space. He wonders if they have pennants in your world... Well it doesn't matter, he's certain you'll love any gifts he gives you! He's one of your favs after all, isn't he? It makes sense, he does have a boyish charm! Although sometimes he fears he's too cute for his own good...

Really now, you have your own charm as well! Lilia just knows he can get used to this! You'll let him stay of course, he can already tell you're a kind hearted person who wouldn't turn an old man out into the terrible hail and lightning! (It was sunny outside when he showed up, but dramatic affect.) And of course no good deed goes unrewarded, he shall make you a "Lilia special!" (No poison not not not guaranteed.) There's no need to thank him! Just your lovely smile is thanks enough! (Run)

-a few months later-

Against all odds, you miraculously survived the 'cooking' incidents. You've gained a newfound respect for silver, and probably a poison tolerance. But yeah, Lilia is completely banned from the kitchen, all kitchens. Do NOT let him cook. In other news however, life has become much more colorful and vibrant with Lilia in it! As has your home. He's made sure of this. Taking you on outings, getting too many trinkets to commemorate said outings. Pranks. So many pranks. Never a boring day.

And Lilia is living for this! Do you know how many people he's spooked during late hours of the night? Nonzero number. This is some of the most fun he's had in years! Really player, it was quite selfish to keep just a entertaining world all to yourself for so long~ and even now you seem to want him back out of it, always bringing up when he plans on returning to twisted wonderland. The answer to that is probably never, his boys are fine on their own, he trusts them! And Lilia would never run away from an adventure like this!

"Ah player, wonderful to see you again! Hm? Oh I'm just decorating the ceiling~ People should hang more pictures on their ceilings! Is that really why you came to talk to me, not because of my adorable charm? ...it's that again? Well I've told you a hundred times by now, I don't plan on leaving for a good while yet. Khehehe, do you really want me gone so badly~?"

It would take a little more than that to make Lilia leave, he's having too much fun with this! And of course he wouldn't want to just leave you, what kind of person would that make him? A fool, that's what~

---------------Silver (Vanrouge)----------------

Silver would've caught himself, if not for the fact he was asleep. So now he's sleeping majestically on the floor. Only slowly waking up when you lean down to check on him, his eyes fluttering open. Then they go wide when he sees you, unable to believe what he's seeing. He reaches up to take your hand.

"Hmmm...! Player, is that you...? Ah, I must be dreaming again, I've had similar dreams before. Yet, your hand feels so real. Are you, truly the player? ...so this isn't a dream. It's lovely to meet you player. I've long awaited this day, I hope you'll welcome me."

He smiles softly, looking at you in a way that makes your heart melt completely. How is he so prince-like!? (Oh, nevermind.) But still, he JUST woke up! It has to be genetics... Meanwhile, Silver stands up and glances around the room. Yet his eyes return to yours, unable to look away from you for very long. He places his hand over his chest as he does, and goodness who gave him permission to be like this!? Lilia how did you raise this boy?!

Silver is overjoyed his dream is a reality, he's long imagined this day and how exactly it would happen. He had hoped to be awake immediately, but at least he's awake now. It's a shame he doesn't have his sword with him, otherwise he'd swear by it to stay by their side. He knows his father liked them, and their words through the screen prove they truly care about him. Such a kind person truly deserves his loyalty. He hopes he can prove it during his time here.

-a few months later-

It's been very reassuring to have Silver around, he's like a constant bodyguard/knight. And the charm is maddening. He once got so sweetly dramatic about a paper cut, even pulling out a little speech about how any of your injuries are important to him, since he is your knight now. And besides that, your house has never been cleaner! Except for the occasional feather. The Disney princess magic is insane.

And Silver has been taking this new task very seriously. As soon as he got a new sword in your world, he had sworn his loyalty to you. It was dramatic yet not too showy, which is a great way to describe most of Silvers actions. He'll admit he does miss his father, and Malleus and Sebek. But that doesn't mean he wants to leave you. He is your knight now, which it why it baffles him so that you seemingly want him to return to twisted wonderland. Do you feel bad he left? He doesn't want to see you like that, or hear you asking when he plans to leave.

"When do I plan on going home? Well, I view this as my home now if you'll allow it. As your knight, I want to be by your side eternally. Will you grant me that chance?"

He looks you in the eyes, his form is ridged and yet his eyes are full of emotion. Let him be your knight, that's all he wishes.

-----------------Sebek Zigvolt------------------

Sebek falls to the floor with a shout, landing heavily on the ground. You get the feeling he would have yelled at the ground for hurting his pride, if not for the fact he froze in place as soon as he stood up and noticed you.

"...PLAYER!? IS THAT YOU!? the spell worked... AHEM! I mean of course it did! I had full confidence in it! No one should expect anything less of a retainer of the great Malleus! Hmph! You should be proud human, I've decided to pay you a visit! I see you're speechless! Wait. ...WHY ARE YOU COVERING YOUR EARS!?"

Sebek looks insulted and indignant at you covering your ears, he's not THAT loud! What a rude human! Seriously, he was in the middle of talking and everything... You're lucky he's feeling generous today human, he'll forgive you this once! But next time don't you dare cover your ears! His words are important! ...then again Lilia Did mention he might hurt their ears if he kept talking like that. Hmph, he supposes he can talk Slightly quieter next time. You should be grateful human!

Please don't get him wrong, he's been waiting to meet you for awhile. He'll admit he despised you at first, but you grew on him (like a parasite) and he hates it. What he won't admit is how often he thinks about you, or uses you as motivation. "I just have to keep training for them!" And the like. Though it was painfully obvious for everyone else, especially with how red his face got when he saw your screen. It was a little sad, and as Lilia put it "utterly adorable! Ah the bashfulness of youth!" Before leaving as he laughed, Sebek left to protest in vain. So to say he hopes you'll let him stay, is a understatement.

-a few months later-

You know scary dog privileges? You have those now. When Sebek follows you around as a sort of bodyguard, believe me you aren't gonna have to worry about a thing. Except for the sound, which is a LOT. Oh and scaring literally everyone away, except for the few folks who think he's a cosplayer. Those interactions never end well. By this point, you try to keep him away from the public as much as possible. Doesn't usually work, but it helps.

He has been trying though!! Kinda. He won't admit he's trying to be better around people for you, but it's pretty noticeable. He didn't even yell once when someone made a joke about how much hair product he must be using. So much self restraint! Obviously you don't have to praise him for his efforts (please do.) but even with all his efforts, you still bring up him going home! Obviously he's working on it, and bringing you with him! He must get back to Malleus quickly, but he doesn't want to leave you behind. So just wait a bit more, this isn't easy you know!

"What do you need human? Again?! WE'VE BEEN OVER THIS, how many times do I need to remind you? Hmph, I am almost done, don't rush me! I don't see YOU trying to open a portal to another world! ...why does it feel like you just want me gone... Hm? NOTHING! I SAID NOTHING!"

It'll probably happen eventually, maybe. But for now, maybe give the precious croc a little more love. Don't want him feeling unwanted, do you?

[celiaelise]

Is it weird that I'm kind of interested in the upcoming Witcher game, if you get to play as Ciri? Shallow though it may be, my main gripe with Witcher III was, "ew, I don't want to play as a man!"

That's like the biggest reason I never started my own play-through, after watching a lot of my brother's. (Also debilitating executive dysfunction, but, y'know.)

I also just felt it was kind of overall bleak and depressing, though I DID like the parts that took place in bustling cities/towns. (I think I might like Assassin's Creed, but my brother never had it, so 🤷🏻‍♀️)

But anyway I don't even game, and it's probably not going to be released for Switch or ps3, which is what i have access to.

[curlicuecal]

playing science telephone

Hi folks. Let's play a fun game today called "unravelling bad science communication back to its source."

Journey with me.

Saw a comment going around on a tumblr thread that "sometimes the life expectancy of autism is cited in the 30s"

That number seemed..... strange. The commenter DID go on to say that that was "situational on people being awful and not… anything autism actually does", but you know what? Still a strange number. I feel compelled to fact check.

Quick Google "autism life expectancy" pulls up quite a few websites bandying around the number 39. Which is ~technically~ within the 30s, but already higher than the tumblr factoid would suggest. But, guess what. This number still sounds strange to me.

Most of the websites presenting this factoid present themselves as official autism resources and organizations (for parents, etc), and most of them vaguely wave towards "studies."

Ex: "Above And Beyond Therapy" has a whole article on "Does Autism Affect Life Expectancy" and states:

The link implies that it will take you to the "research studies" being referenced, but it in fact takes you to another random autism resource group called.... Songbird Care?

And on that website we find the factoid again:

Ooh, look. Now they've added the word "some". The average lifespan for SOME autistic people. Which the next group erased from the fact. The message shifts further.

And we have slightly more information about the study! (Which has also shifted from "studies" to a singular "study"). And we have another link!

Wonderfully, this link actually takes us to the actual peer-reviewed 2020 study being discussed. [x]

And here, just by reading the abstract, we find the most important information of all.

This study followed a cohort of adolescent and adult autistic people across a 20 year time period. Within that time period, 6.4% of the cohort died. Within that 6.4%, the average age of death was 39 years.

So this number is VERY MUCH not the average age of death for autistic people, or even the average age of death for the cohort of autistic people in that study. It is the average age of death IF you died young and within the 20 year period of the study (n=26), and also we don't even know the average starting age of participants without digging into earlier papers, except that it was 10 or older. (If you're curious, the researchers in the study suggested reduced self-sufficiency to be among the biggest risk factors for the early mortality group.)

But the number in the study has been removed from it's context, gradually modified and spread around the web, and modified some more, until it is pretty much a nonsense number that everyone is citing from everyone else.

There ARE two other numbers that pop up semi-frequently:

One cites the life expectancy at 58. I will leave finding the context for that number as an exercise for the audience, since none of the places I saw it gave a direct citation for where they were getting it.

And then, probably the best and most relevant number floating around out there (and the least frequently cited) draws from a 2023 study of over 17,000 UK people with an autism diagnosis, across 30 years. [x] This study estimated life expectancies between 70 and 77 years, varying with sex and presence/absence of a learning disability. (As compared to the UK 80-83 average for the population as a whole.)

This is a set of numbers that makes way more sense and is backed by way better data, but isn't quite as snappy a soundbite to pass around the internet. I'm gonna pass it around anyway, because I feel bad about how many scared internet people I stumbled across while doing this search.

People on quora like "I'm autistic, can I live past 38"-- honey, YES. omg.

---

tl;dr, when someone gives you a number out of context, consider that the context is probably important

also, make an amateur fact checker's life easier and CITE YOUR SOURCES

[sunnlyfe]

𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒 — touya todoroki

↳ ꒰ I'ma put some goddamn moves on you, babe, i know you. need it.꒱

#𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒 — touya has never been one for school dances, or school anything, really. but you love them. and he begins to think he might love you.

↳ #𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 — he accidentally hurts readers feelings for like a second, swearing, most definitely ooc touya bc idk how to write him, cheesy content proceed with caution lol.

requested by @rueclfer who's probably touya's #1 fan. mostly smau, but ther3 is a written portion at the end! sorry if it's messy, it's not proofread.

“You look,” You have to pause, your brain cogs turning frantically in search of the right word. “Nice. Like, really fucking nice.”

He scoffs, sending you a look that screams annoyed, but you can tell it's faux. “Yeah? What's What's supposed to mean?”

“It means you look gross most of the time.”

“Wow.”

You laugh, the sound much louder than you intended. “You really are a baby.”

He brings his hand up to your face and pushes you away, earning him a hard swat at the wrist. “Seriously, though. You do look really nice.”

You finally take a moment to look at all of him; the way his silver hair seems less frizzy, the soft hug of his suit around his surprisingly thick arms—holy shit—and you only now realize the color of his suit. “Wait, are you matching me? Is that why you asked to see what I was wearing?”

His gaze doesn't leave you. “Does it matter?”

“I suppose not.”

It did matter, because he came here. The shade isn't even off, the fabric almost identical—he didn't just get it willy nilly, he put thought into it.

“The dance doesn't start till 9? It's 4:30.”

“Pictures.”

“My mother could get us better pictures.” He scoffs again, taking a good look at his surroundings. He ignores the look Keigo throws at him—the one that screams I told you so.

Touya hadn't really planned on this. Not when you asked him for theme ideas, or when you told him about post-prom. But it wasn't a spur of the moment decision. The night he called you, when you started crying and told him about how something so silly had you stressed beyond belief. And it wasn't something silly to you, you liked this stuff, no matter how stupid he thought it was. You enjoyed getting all dolled up, the pictures, the people, the dance and the music, the stupid after-prom or whatever it was.

And he didn't want to admit it until then, but he liked it. He liked the excitement in your voice or the way you ranted on and on about the decoration ideas you'd come up with, the food, the stupid games. And he wanted to see you. He wanted to see you in person, get a long look of how fucking stunning you are in this color.

And when he manages to get his hands on you, now hours later, he doesn't know why he'd been so adamant about not coming to this dance.

You're looking at him—so sweet, so pretty—with your arms wrapped loosely around his neck and he wants to kick himself.

You're smiling at him like he's everything.

“Can I be honest?”

You hum as if you're thinking about it. “I dunno, Touya. Honesty isn't your strong suit.”

“Shut the fuck up, don't ruin this.”

“Sorry, sorry.” You amend yourself, your hand moving to pat his shoulder. “What's up?”

“I like this.” He doesn't miss the way you furrow your brows.

“The dance?” He almost says no.

“I like this.” His hands tighten carefully around your hips, pulling you slightly closer to him. “I like us.”

He says the last part quieter, making sure to move his face closer, the words mumbled against the shell of your ear. Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Your smile managed to get so much bigger, your eyes meeting his the second he pulled his head back, and he wouldn't trade the sight for anything.

“Show me.”

He can't help but lean in again, this time for a kiss.

[feroluce]

NO OK BUT THIS BRIEF LITTLE MOMENT IN THE FATE COLLAB FUCKING KILLED ME BECAUSE LIKE.

If you watch the part where Grady's Noble Phantasm hits, Boothill seems much, much more upset about it than Archer or Aventurine- like beyond just the frustration of him yelling so loud that the screen shakes. He pulls his hat low. He hides his face. He looks down and away and his frown is full of teeth. Boothill is extremely expressive with his face and his body language, and he just looks so furiously miserable.

much love to Pluto for sending her screen recording to me- still screenshots just don't do Boothill's body language justice here!

And even after this scene! While Archer and Aventurine stand there listening to Skott's yapping! Boothill doesn't stand still like them at all, he steps forward like he's going to do something about it, then ends up simply crossing his arms and letting his head drop low with his teeth grit.

Like! Dude is Pissed! Capital-P-Pissed!!

Which! No, yeah, that makes total sense! In the same vein as Aventurine not liking the command seals or being called Master because of his past, or Robin feeling particularly sympathetic for Asna because of their similar circumstances, this aligns perfectly with Boothill's backstory, it's just that he's like way more of a reticent asshole about it than those two.

Because for Boothill, losing his voice is probably more akin to losing a limb.

We actually get a nice timely reminder of this right before the silent film scene, which I wonder if Hoyo did on purpose for this reason or not? But anyway. Robin and the trailblazer both get a very verbose message (supposedly) from Boothill, and they figure it for a fake right away because of how wildly off it was from his usual style. And even outside of in-game content, Hoyo has kept with that- every single text message Boothill sends is voice-to-text.

the only time they forgot this iirc was the giant group message at the climax of 2.3

Regardless of what you hc as the reason (my favorite Boothill fic writes him as dyslexic, which I adore), Boothill is canon very reliant on verbal communication. He can't express himself nearly as well any other way! Without his voice, he loses something vital to his ability to connect with other people!

And even further beyond his voice's practicality, Boothill's homeplanet, Aeragan-Epharshel, seems to have been a place with a strong oral culture.

I don't think it's a stretch to say this is something strongly tied to Boothill's sense of home, because like. If you look at his character stories, it plays a part. He used to sing with Nick. And that memory was important enough to him that when he found his daughter, that was the first thing he did to try to soothe her crying, was to sing to her that same song. When his doctor asked him his name after The Surgery, after he had barely managed to resurface under the drowning weight of his grief, that was what stopped him- the fact that he was never going to hear his true name spoken in his family's voices ever again.

Boothill's voice is important to him. It's his means of connecting with people, it's how he expresses himself, it's a tie to a cultural identity that he has so, so little left of.

Other than the name on his bounty, I think it's a very reasonable conclusion that the native tongue of Aeragan-Epharshel isn't within the Synesthesia Beacons, and isn't documented anywhere in any kind of accessible or official capacity. It probably only exists in the mouths of its survivors, like Boothill. And there are not many survivors.

So to lose his own voice? To lose even this? No wonder he looks so much more distraught than anyone else in that scene, because like.

What more could they possibly take from him?

[clairewritesfanfics]

do you like those fics where the premise is "all the variants are here for y/n but main mark hasnt even dated her"

i like them the most when its a right person wrong time situation on main marks part because im mean

like since highschool theyve never managed to be single at the same time and then he finds out the evil versions of him destroying shit have had her when hes never even got to try asking her out

nobody has written this specific type of thing i want to read yet, but like, the variants getting stuck in main marks dimension and he and y/n keep finding out things about the variants loves with their version of y/n thats excruciating to hear for two people whove been in love their whole lives but have never been in a place to act on it

the only variant who hasnt done anything with her is maskless who was in a very similar situation with his william. like three of the older marks were actually married to her, at least one out of those 3 had been about to have a kid with her before losing her. literally none of them have ever broken up with her of their own free will. at least one of the younger marks had only just managed to start a relationship with her before he lost her.

main mark watching these versions of himself practically swarming someone he also loves and has probably loved before he even understood it but with no right to do anything about it because hes with eve. who he does like. but he asked out after a version of her from the future told him she loved him apparently her entire life and he was her biggest regret.

main mark experiencing never before seen types of emotional pain wondering if he should have read into the eve thing as the universe telling him you were about to break up with your at the time partner just as he was getting into things with eve, or if waiting to see if youd leave them would have prolonged your relationship with them because the universe fucking hates him for reasons beyond his understanding

i would write this myself but im already stuck trying to write like 3 other long projects already. but if i did write it id probably end it as happy as possible because even though i like angst i can only stand so much.

It is truly the writer's blurse to be struck with so many fascinating concepts while juggling already existing WIPs.

( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) 

It's an amazing idea with a lot of angst potential. I have encountered a similar but not exact premise a few times, maybe not as fully realized fics but as propositional posts.

I've always loved the idea of the Marks being so obsessed and devoted that they will stop the violence in order to reminisce about their respective Readers aka Y/Ns. (Oh, and this is more of my personal preference as an Invincible fanfic writer: the Reader-sexual crew includes Maskless because, as I have once discussed in gruesome detail, when it comes to Mark it is all or nothing for me. I can't tolerate him being in love with Eve or Amber in my verses, so I can't handle him being in love with William either. I am an equal opportunity "homewrecker." VCS readers, please don't ask me more about this because I might end up spoiling some things about my future plans.)

Honestly, if you have the energy to spare, you should give it a go, it doesn't have to be multi-chaptered. It can just be a short story or a bunch of "reactions" strung together. Heck, just write dialogue for it. Pure dialogue. Maybe you can use this idea as a writing exercise, like trying a different style or POV. Something to come back to and appreciate when you want to take a breather from your long fics.

Tbh, you've given me an excuse to stop delaying and start practicing first person POV again, and I was reminded why it's so hard penning reader insert stories:

I was surrounded. I could take on one or two of them, but twelve of these murderous assholes? My best bet would be to retreat while they were distracted, but there’s one problem: you.

You were the ball in this screwed up game of catch. All eyes were on you and I doubt there was anything that would take everyone's attention off of you at the same time. Even if I did manage to steal you away in a split second of distraction, I wouldn’t be able to go very far, not with that girl version of me here.

I watched as she pulled the pink scrunchie from her hair, black Rapunzel braid falling apart as she placed the hair tie gingerly on your hands. 

You gave her a shaky smile but she didn’t seem to care.

I clenched my fists.

She was fast, faster than the rest, and faster than me. 

“Cute, aren’t they?” The me dressed in my father’s colors watched you with arms crossed. “Don’t even think about trying to take her away, Marcy will rip you apart before you get the chance to take off.”

“Marcy?”

“Long story.”

It was hilarious. Not too long ago, this guy sent my girlfriend to the ER and here we were, talking like old pals. I wanted to punch him in the face but–

“You want to kill me,” he said, not bothering to look at me. “But we both know you won’t do that in front of her.”

“You don’t know anything about me or her.”

“I know that every version of you that came here is because of her.” He finally turned to me. “We all wanted a reunion.”

“I won’t let you take her.”

He scoffed. “We’re not interested in ‘taking’ her anywhere, we just wanted a chance to see her. To talk to her again.”

My fingers twitched. I already had my suspicions but I needed to know. 

“What exactly is she to you?” I asked.

The faintest smile melted all the coldness from his face as he answered, “She was my dove.”

Time slowed to a snail’s pace as my voice betrayed me, “What?”

He met my gaze. “She was my wife.”

“Was?”

The ice returned as he turned away. “She died.” That was all. He continued staring at you, his longing obvious under that veil of composure.

I watched as more versions of me crowded you. Each one had something to show or say to you, each one looking like they have waited a thousand years for this.

The fear seemed to have dissipated from you somewhat, because you were now laughing at the words of my maskless self. He was smiling softly at you, but I could see the cracks in his expression. He looked at you like you were the world, but it was clear to me that he was searching for something.

I didn’t know what it was but I couldn’t help but release my fists, wondering if Eve ever caught me wearing the same expression.

#

I kept accidentally bouncing from third person to first to second. 😭

But it was a fun exercise!

I hope you do write about this someday because it is a great concept. Thank you for sharing it with me and our fellow fans.

PS

I must ask for clarification what you mean by "the Eve thing." Is this a reference to a specific plot point? Or just his relationship with Eve in general?

[pearlescentparade]

Ur probably gonna ignore cuz it’s kinda boring but can i request two time x reader angst ?

Two and reader spending time together, reader trying to enjoy snuggling up to their partner yet two time isn’t returning any of the affection. Just sitting with their hands to themselves with no attempt to do anything besides watch whatever was in front of them.

Basically reader trying to cope with two time not actually returning their feelings despite dating and probably terrible communication.

up to you if two time loves them back.

light years 🔄 two time x reader angst drabble❤️‍🩹

it's cold tonight.

you shouldn't complain, considering it was your idea to go star-gazing. but in your defense, it sounded cute in the moment.

the blades of grass uncomfortably drag against and poke your skin, prickled with goosebumps, as you shift to turn on your side to face two time. they only blankly stare up at the eternal night sky.

"timey?"

they hum, but are complacent in making any other effort beyond that to acknowledge you.

"i'm a little cold.. can we cuddle? ...please?" your whispered pleas could've been mistaken for the ambient howling of the wind. perhaps that's why they don't answer you. but there is much shame to be had in asking again, you think.

hesitantly, and with much space, you reach your hand out to them.

nothing. no acceptance, no rejection.

then, you dare to slink your arms around their body, loosely embracing them as if unsure whether to commit fully to it. you think you feel colder touching them than not.

their body tenses under your touch. did they feel disgusted by you?

you shakily exhale, trying to ignore the deep pain rooting in your heart and constricting your throat. times like these, you wish that they'd start yelling how much they hate you. at least then, you'd know for sure, and you'd know how they feel or think for once. but instead, you are left in the dark, blind and guessing, and playing a game meant for two alone.

a familiar sting burns your eyes, and you take it as your cue to distract yourself.

"..that's orion's belt. it's thr-three stars." you point to the constellation, light years away. two time blinks, inches away. it's less about telling them, and more about telling yourself.

"over there is gemini. it--hic--has the twin stars, castor and- and pollux-" despite your futile attempts, the tears fall anyway. and when one slips out, the rest comes in a flood. it takes only seconds before you're uncontrollably sobbing, muffling your cries in two time's arm.

yet, even as you wet their arm with tears, snot, and saliva, they say nothing. no comfort, no disgust, simply silence.

they couldn't say anything.

not when fear paralyzes them.

they've messed this up before. it's not out of the question to say it could happen again. the same voices that lead them to atrocity chatter viciously in their mind, angry wasps rattling in the nest, urging for another sacrifice.

to once again spill blood, warm with infatuation. to take advantage of this golden opportunity to present their devotion to the spawn by stealing the love they hold with you and metamorphosizing it into the love for their god. one wrong move, and their ghostfire dagger will plunge right into your heart.

to two time, inaction is the greatest reciprocation of love they could offer you.

without turning their head, their eyes flick to glance at your blubbering form.

it's cold tonight.

(parade postscript: sorry this one is a lot shorter mostly bc reader is talking to a fkin brick wall and yk dialogue carries all my mfin writing and also i js thought itd be fitting that everything is all short and lacking bc of the whole two time not showing reciprocation thang [me pulling out a million bullshit excuses out of my ass for why ts is so short and pretending im being a literary genius]

also fun fact! castor and pollux look close together from earth but are farther from each other in reality! castor is actually 51 light-years away, while pollux is closer at 33.8 light-years)

[babie-spectatortsu]

phones are pretty underrated in sagau. yeah teyvat has a lot of technological advancements beyond our own as well ('how do you guys have flying guns and working mechas but not phones?'). But like... imagine having all that within ur hand, that u can put in ur pocket... so much recorded entertainment and performances held in there, a kamera, games of any kind, apps like pinterest where u can freely share pictures and anyone can see them (albedo would always use it), social media apps where u can just message anyone, listen to their voice, or facetime and look at them anywhere and anytime u want (childe would love it so much, he can catch up and talk to his siblings even when he's away on missions...).

also the sheer amount of information one can find is crazy. zhongli strikes me as the type to read wikipedia in his spare time, not skim, just straight up read it. it isn't the most reliable place of information, but that's why he's also reading the actual sources cited at the bottom of the page and trying to learn more. he also clicks on every blue word he finds, going through more and more links and ends up getting sidetracked and going through more and more rabbitholes.

... (he also probably falls for the scams that can pop up whenever he's using the phone...)

u can also just hand ur phone/ipad to nahida, put on, i don't know, vsauce or scishow, and u won't hear a word from her again, just curiously watching all the videos, absorbing more and more information.

venti tries listening to all the music he can find. he knows every song that can exist, but apparently that's only within teyvat. u try getting him to listen to more traditional plays, the type of stuff that wouldn't sound too bizarre or weird to his ears, but nope, he doesn't care. he's already trying to listen to pop songs. he already found bohemian rhapsody and was blown away and intrigued by it. he already started listening to ur personal playlist, he already...

and so on...

[megapteraurelia]

tldr; — kenma x you | hq

SUMMARY; they said long distance relationships are hard, but kenma had always made you feel like it was easy. WARNINGS; long distance relationships; fluff; angst; mention of fps games (bleh!!) WORD COUNT; 1017.

kenma. — then.

the sound of gunfire echoed through kenma's headset. last player standing. it was 1v3, definitely doable. his heart wasn't racing, but his concentration was sharp, his fingers sharper as they danced across his keyboard.

"he's on B," someone whispered, voice so quiet as to not disturb his focus, but kenma thought it was unnecessary. it was a good comm; there was no need to be so scared. he exhaled through his nose, pinky pressing down on the shift-button until the last second before he turned the corner to peek—

his phone buzzed.

it sat on the edge of his desk, screen lighting up with a name that had his hands grow sweaty and his heart to stutter.

heyy. are you busy?

he glanced down, eyes flitting to the screen, then back to the game, then to the screen again.

a message. from you. he should probably wait until after the round to text you, after the tension had faded, after the game was over. his teammates were still calling out anything they saw on the mini map, any util that sounded out in the distance, but they felt distant.

the words on the screen were so simple, but his heart thudded strong in his chest. he didn't know what it was about you, but you made everything quieter, softer, more real and more rooted in this real life that he often times always wanted to escape. he felt the weight of his fingers on the mouse. he should just win the game, he thought. but when it came to you, he always felt like he had to be different. like he had to do more, something he wasn't sure how to do, but that gnawed at him until—

kenma reached for his phone with one hand, the other still on his mouse. quickly with a dry throat, before he could second-guess it, he typed back.

playing. but not too busy

a flash. gunfire.

he died instantly.

"DUDE, what the hell?" someone groaned into kenma's ear, frustration thick in his voice, "you threw that."

kenma didn't respond to his teammate. instead, he muted his teammates, his own microphone, and leaned back in his chair to stare at the message thread, breath shallow. he stared and waited for the three dots to appear, waited for his heart to do the tell-tale sign of skipping a thousand beats.

he sent another message, because he thought he may lose his courage if he didn't.

though i actually died to respond mid-match

his leg was whipping up and down impatiently, time not moving fast enough, his pulse quickening in the way it always did when it came to you, like he was standing too close to the edge of something he wasn't sure he could handle. something that wasn't a game.

when your response came through finally, his ears flushed deeply, quiet settling in his room.

you died for me? that's kind of romantic, ken

a moment later:

don't make it weird. (but yeah)

kenma. — now.

the call had been silent for a while now. he sat with his headphones still on, listening to the soft ambient hum of your room through the microphone; the sounds barely there. no laughter, no soft talking, no you. just the vague, distant rustle that indicated there was somebody existing on the other side.

he thought the silence settled like dust around him, and then you spoke, your voice tinged with the kind of exhaustion that went beyond the physical.

"are you tired?"

he was slow in his reply, even though it was only one word, "yeah."

"i can go. if you want."

even slower. "okay."

the call ended. kenma thought he should have said something; anything that could be considered a proper goodbye, but he didn't. he couldn't.

he knew he was being an idiot. an asshole. the type of person he thought he couldn't be, yet even as he let the distance grow, he couldn't force himself to admit it.

you were still here. he could feel you, somewhere, waiting for his reply, waiting for him to be there, waiting and hoping. he didn't know why you still were, he didn't know why you still waited. he wished you didn't.

his thumb hovered over his phone, the chat window still open in front of him. there were your messages, and they weren't lots. just small, three-worded sentences, yet they ate at him with their sharp teeth.

are you busy? i miss you

kenma had wanted to ignore you. he also had wanted to reply. had wanted to tell you that he missed you, too. but he couldn't get the words past his lips, couldn't say them when they felt so wrong and so hollow, like they wouldn't reach you in the way they used to.

he typed something, and deleted it again.

you deserved better, he thought. he thought you did when he woke up and saw the good morning message on his phone, he thought you did when he went a whole day without texting or calling you and didn't even notice until you were the one who caved in and always texted first, he thought you did every time the call ended and every time the silence stretched between you. every time he didn't know what to say.

his fingers had moved again, tapping out the words.

kinda playing. but not too busy

when the reply came back, he felt the weight of it more than he should have.

okay.

that was it. nothing more. just this one word digging deeply in between his ribs right in his chest. he could hear the emptiness in that word, could feel it in the way your texts weren't coming like they used to. not with the same frequency, not with the same warmth.

he wished he could pull you back, but the truth was that when he opened his hands, they were empty. he had nothing to offer anymore, nothing to give.

i'm sorry, he thought to nobody but his own useless self. he couldn't even type these words.

instead, he logged off.

TAGLIST | @takes1 @classicalelephant @pomigranit

[alwayssassydreamer]

Mirror, Mirror

A/N: my experiment at writing "new" chatacters continues the idea for this came from a good friend - so if it sucks it's her fault 😅 it got way longer than planned and i don't know why i did that but yeah...oh and i kind of "ignored" the extreme size difference so Kata is tall but not like super duper giant tall

Part of Mimi's Nightmares

Speak to me, sing to me, bare your soul to me Step through the mirror, join me inside Run to me, stay with me, till eternity Show me the face that you hide

Plot: you see a man in your mirror who haunts you even in your dreams until one day you feel like he reaches through

Warnings: use of Y/N (once), "horror", Kata is a Demon, i have no idea what to put here it's kinda a gothic romance story maybe, Modern AU

Characters: Demon!Katakuri x GnReader

Your life had been more or less fine, you had a decent job that got the bills paid and more, your apartment was cozy, your car had been running for 3 months without anything breaking or needing to be replaced - which was a fucking miracle - and the only thing that might have been missing was a partner but it was okay for you. You liked to refer to your single life as being "free".

Though deep down you often felt lonely but you always drowned that small traitorous thought with something else.

You stood in your bathroom brushing your teeth, from outside you could here some game show from your tv. Just as you spit out and got back up you saw a man in the mirror.

"The fuck" you shouted jumping and instinctively looking over your shoulder - nothing.

You turned back to stare at the mirror - nothing either.

You cocked a brow and kept staring at the mirror before you sighed.

"Oh god so stupid" you said laughing. You had probably been imagining it - too little sleep and too many "bloody mary" videos on youtube.

You turned off the bathroom light and shuffled into the living room. The game show host on the TV was laughing too hard, like someone had told a joke that wasn’t funny. You grabbed the remote and clicked it off. The sudden silence made your apartment feel hollow.

Still, you shrugged it off. Just tired.

You went to bed.

The next night, it happened again.

You were flossing this time and when you glanced up, he was there again. Only this time, he didn’t vanish.

He was watching you. Big. Still. The kind of man that made you think of ancient statues: too massive, too still, too real. His mouth was hidden under a scarf that rippled as if caught in a breeze you couldn’t feel. His eyes locked with yours like he was staring through the glass and into you.

You blinked.

He didn’t.

The floss slipped from your hands.

You turned around again, nothing, of course, but your hands were trembling now. When you looked back at the mirror, he was gone.

But the surface was fogged up.

You hadn’t taken a hot shower.

And five long indents had appeared in the condensation, dragging slowly downward like the mark of fingers from the other side.

You touched the glass to try to rub the marks away but nothing changed and the moment you touched the glass it felt extraordinary cold. Sure glass was cold but that one was almost too cold.

"Okay you know what who needs mirrors, maybe....yeah I maybe I just put a towel over it." You said to yourself as you reached for the biggest towel you had and drapped it over the mirror even taping it so it couldn't fall off.

"Yeah nothing out of the ordinary a lot of people hide their mirrors" you told yourself trying to convince yourself that you had seen nothing, that there was no man in the mirror that left marks on the glass - from the inside.

You went to bed and decided to sleep with the light and the tv on. Not because you were scared.....no of course not.....ghosts or men living in a mirror weren’t real right? Right?

You groaned as you crawled into bed and pulled the sheets up despite the night being kinda warm. After staying awake for what felt like hours sleep finally overtook you the dream you had though was far from comforting or sweet.

You were standing in your bathroom again.

Only it wasn’t your bathroom.

The walls stretched too tall, the tiles too slick, too dark - like obsidian. The light flickered overhead, casting sharp shadows in impossible directions. The mirror, that mirror, stood bare, the towel gone.

Your feet moved on their own. You approached.

You didn’t want to look, but your body didn’t care.

And there he was again.

But this time, he moved.

He raised a hand, long fingers wrapped in dark fabric, too big for a human man. He pressed it to the glass. You stopped just a breath away, your heart slamming against your ribs like it wanted out.

“Why do you hide me?” a deep voice rumbled, not aloud, but inside your head. It was calm. Curious.

His eye glowed faintly, red in the dimness.

You couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

The glass began to bend, like water, rippling outward from where his hand pressed. His fingers sank into it. Then his wrist. Then his arm. His entire form began to emerge, slow and fluid, like the mirror was birthing him.

“I see you every night,” he whispered. “I wait.”

You backed up. Your heels hit the edge of the tub, you fell, scrambled, your voice caught in your throat as the man stepped fully through the mirror, towering and silent. His scarf fluttered unnaturally despite no breeze. His silhouette was massive. Wrong.

You opened your mouth to scream—

And woke up.

You shot upright in bed, drenched in sweat. Your sheets clung to you, the TV screen frozen on static.

Across the room, the bathroom door stood slightly ajar.

The towel you taped?

Crumpled on the floor.

And the mirror was bare.

After that night you took the mirror down and turned it around and used your phone to do your hair, make up and all that stuff. But it didn’t help.

You began seeing him on every reflecting surface no matter where no matter what and soon your whole apartment was covered in towels, blankets and cardboards or papers. But even that didn't help because then you began hearing his voice.

It started soft.

Barely a whisper, like a thought that wasn’t yours.

When you brushed your teeth: “You looked better yesterday.”

When you washed your hands: “I miss seeing your eyes.”

When you closed the fridge: “Don’t you want to look at me again?”

You started turning off anything reflective - TV screens, phones, even utensils that caught too much light. But he was still there. Sometimes, in the reflection of your pupils in the bathroom selfie camera, you could just make out the shape of his scarf.

You stopped going to work.

You stopped going out altogether.

And then… the voice changed.

It grew clearer. Closer.

“You tried to erase me. Hide me. Why?”

“I was content to watch, but you made me feel ignored.”

“I want to be seen. I want you.”

He was everywhere now. Reflections in windows you passed. In puddles outside. In the shine of your kettle. Sometimes, even in your dreams, he stood at the foot of your bed, never blinking, waiting for you to invite him in.

One night, after days of this torment, you cracked.

You tore the towel off the mirror and screamed, “What the hell do you want from me?!”

Silence.

Then, his figure appeared—clearer than ever. Tall. Sharp. Broad-shouldered. His lone eye glowing beneath his scarf.

And he answered.

“I want freedom.” He tilted his head, like a dog studying a wounded thing. “And I want you.”

You stumbled back. “Freedom? I—I don’t know how to—”

“You already opened the door, little mirror. The moment you looked.”

Your lights flickered.

The mirror began to ripple again.

And his hand reached out, fingers brushing the air just past the glass.

Then—

You woke up.

Except this time… you weren’t in bed.

You were kneeling in front of the mirror. The towel at your feet. Your hand flat against the glass, mirroring his.

He was smiling, the scarf around his neck gone to reveal a scarred mouth and sharp teeth yet it didn't scare you the way it should have.

Suddenly you felt it - his hand it started to wrap around yours. No this couldn't be it was just a dream, no imagination or hallucination. He wasn’t real this wasn’t real.

You couldn’t.....his fingers had fully wrapped around your hand and your hand.....it was no longer on the mirror glass no it was inside the mirror. You tried to pull at it but he tightened his grip.

"No! Don't!" you yelled frantically.

His hand - his real, solid, warm hand - tightened around yours like a vice, yet it didn’t hurt. It was firm, possessive, like he was afraid you’d vanish. The mirror rippled around your wrist, swallowing your skin with a liquid shimmer that defied all logic.

Your breath hitched.

“No! What are you doing? Let go of me!” you shouted, yanking back as panic took full control.

But he didn’t let go.

His eye narrowed slightly, not with malice—but with longing.

“I’ve waited too long to lose you now,” he said, voice velvet-dark and quiet. “You saw me when no one else ever did. You called me forth.”

“I didn’t mean to!” you snapped. “I never wanted this—whatever this is!”

“You wanted to be seen,” he murmured, leaning closer to the barrier. His breath didn’t fog the mirror, it darkened it. “You whispered it every night, even when you didn’t say it aloud. I only answered.”

You shook your head, eyes wide with disbelief as your arm slid further in. You could feel his world, cold air, static and wrong, brushing along your skin. “This isn’t fair—this isn’t real!”

His brow furrowed slightly. That ever-present scarf fluttered, and for a brief moment you saw the barest glimpse of a scar at the corner of his lips—something human beneath all the terror.

“I was not made to be real,” he said, almost sorrowfully. “But you... you changed that.”

Then, softer. “Come with me.”

You froze.

“Come into my world. You won’t be alone. I’ll give you everything. No more hiding. No more being overlooked. You’ll be mine, and I’ll be yours. Forever.”

The grip around your hand loosened slightly not letting go, but giving you a choice.

“Step through,” he whispered. “Or walk away. But if you leave me now, I will never appear to you again. I will vanish from every mirror, every dream, every reflection. I will not haunt you. I will not love you.”

The glass cooled. Still. The silence between your heartbeats stretched.

You looked at him really looked at him and even with his scarf gone and his scarred mouth and sharp teeth you felt less and less scared of him. But could you step through, and moreover what did that mean for you.

"I will not love you" those words they were spoken so real almost painful as if he feared you would decide to walk away. Your heart ached you were torn between fear, curiosity and a strange ache inside you

You stared into his eye, deep, scarlet, endless, and for the first time, you didn’t see a monster.

You saw loneliness.

Eons of it. Years, maybe centuries, spent behind glass, whispering to no one, watching people live lives he could never touch. He didn’t beg. He didn’t demand. He offered choice, even knowing what it might cost him.

The scarf had slipped entirely. His mouth was scarred, his teeth sharp—but his expression wasn’t cruel. It was vulnerable in its own terrible way. He was not human. You knew that. And yet…

You were tired too. Tired of being alone in rooms that echoed. Tired of being seen, but never truly understood.

And that ache in your chest - it pulsed louder now, synchronized with the way he held your hand. Gentle. Waiting.

“I…” you whispered, eyes searching his face, “If I step through… what happens to me?”

His gaze softened, and his fingers caressed the back of your hand like silk.

“You will change,” he said simply. “You will not be what you were. But you will be known. Loved. Kept safe. No more mirrors between us.”

His thumb traced over your knuckles, reverent. “But you’ll never return to your world. You’ll be mine. Entirely.”

You trembled. You should’ve been terrified. But instead, you whispered:

“…And you’ll be mine?”

A pause.

“Forever.”

You swallowed hard, chest tight.

There was the door.

And he was the key.

You took a single step closer.

You took a deep breath your body grazing the mirror and part of you teethering between both worlds.

"I don't even know your name" you said softly so close now that he could have pulled you inside if he wanted to

His expression shifted, barely, a twitch at the corner of his scarred mouth, as if your words struck something deep within him.

The glass between you pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat.

“You’re the first to ask,” he said, voice quieter now, almost reverent. “The others screamed. Cursed. Prayed.”

His hand, still holding yours, rose to your cheek, fingers gliding through the rippling barrier like water. Cold, but not cruel.

“I had no need for a name before you,” he murmured. “But if it is a name you want… then I will give it to you.”

He leaned forward. His lips nearly touched the mirror, nearly touched yours.

“…Katakuri,” he whispered, and though his name sounded strange in your world, it felt right in your bones. Familiar, like a memory that wasn’t yours. “You may call me that. Or anything you wish… if you stay.”

He paused. “And you—what shall I call you little mirror?”

You stood there, suspended between two realities, your breath fogging the mirror that refused to stay cold.

Your name on his tongue. Your hand in his. His world reaching out to swallow you whole.

And still… you had not yet stepped through nor had he forcefully pulled you through.

"Y/N but you can keep calling me little mirror" you answered softly still on the edge between both worlds.

His eye softened at your name but even more as you allowed him to keep calling you "little mirror", like it was something sacred, something he had etch into every surface of his mirrored prison if it meant keeping you close.

“Little mirror it will be,” he repeated, slow and deliberate, tasting it like a vow.

Then he leaned in, his forehead brushing the glass, no, not the glass, your forehead, as if the barrier no longer dared to separate you.

And he whispered, voice like velvet and winter rain.

“I have watched you for so long… even when you didn't know me. I’ve memorized the way you sigh when you’re tired, the way your smile fades just before it fully forms… You think you're invisible in your world, but to me, you’ve always been the only one.”

Your heart clenched, breath caught in your throat.

“I would burn through every reflection, shatter every mirror, just to hold you without glass between us,” he murmured, voice aching. “Let me show you what it means to be wanted. Truly wanted. Not as a fantasy… but as a soul worth worshipping.”

You swayed toward him, the space between you no longer clear where one world ended and the other began.

“Say yes, little mirror,” he breathed. “And be mine.”

And this time… You didn’t step away.

You stepped through.

The moment your whole body had slipped through the mirror behind you seemed to close off and it was clear you weren't getting out of here again. But part of you didn't mind.

Katakuri was even taller than you expected and the mirror world was - strange, wide, a bit cold and most importantly lonely. You looked up at him smiling warmly.

"You've been here all alone? And i always thought i was lonely" you observed heart aching at the thought of him.

Katakuri stood still for a moment, as if stunned by your presence - your real presence - in his world.

No longer a fleeting image. No longer a shadow behind glass.

His crimson eyes met yours, wide and reverent, and he reached out as if afraid you’d vanish if he moved too fast. His hand gently brushed your cheek again, warmer now, the barrier gone and you felt it - the trembling in his fingers, the way he held his breath like this was a dream he didn’t want to wake from.

When you spoke, he lowered his head slightly, shame flickering across his scarred face.

“I have always been alone,” he admitted. “My world was built from echoes and silence. I learned every crack in the glass, every corner of this hollow place… but none of it ever saw me.”

He looked down at you then, really looked. “Until you.”

Your smile warmed him in a way no fire ever could.

“I used to envy the people in your world,” he continued. “They passed by without fear, without knowing how precious their voices were, their warmth, their freedom. I hated them… and pitied myself.”

He stepped closer, and this time his arms wrapped around you with care, massive, protective, gentle. His head rested briefly against yours.

“But now… if I had to wait a thousand years just to hold you once, I’d do it all again.”

Around you, the mirror world shimmered, long halls of silver light, vast dark skies that reflected nothing. You could see distant doors that led nowhere, corridors that twisted, rooms built of frozen memories and phantom reflections. It was lonely. But not anymore.

You nestled into him, whispering softly, “Then I guess we’re not alone anymore.”

Katakuri’s breath hitched, and for a long, quiet moment, the mirror world felt a little warmer.

Time passed differently here. Days bled into nights without ever truly changing, like the mirror world existed just outside the edge of reality, quiet, suspended, timeless.

And yet, somehow… with him, it never felt stagnant.

Weeks, maybe months, passed in that strange, shimmering place. You stopped counting. Katakuri showed you pieces of his world slowly, always watching your reactions with near-painful attentiveness, as though your comfort mattered more than anything else. And it did, to him. You were his world now.

The rooms changed when you touched them, responding to your emotions. Places he had long thought empty began to bloom with warmth, light, and fragments of beauty that hadn’t existed until you arrived. A mirrored garden that shimmered with petals of glass and silver. A quiet, cathedral-like chamber filled with memories of dreams. A bedroom that molded itself to your liking - the softest bedding, faint starlight through curved walls, and a hearth that glowed with gentle, blue fire.

And him.

Katakuri.

Never pushy, never demanding but always there.

Loyal. Fiercely protective. Gentle beyond words. The terrifying, stoic mirror demon… who brewed you tea and sat with you in silence when you missed the hum of real wind. Who let you fall asleep against his massive shoulder, tracing the lines of his scars with your fingertips, while he held you like something fragile and beloved.

He kissed you for the first time under the illusion of a thunderstorm. Rain drumming softly on mirrored rooftops. He cradled your face like he had spent lifetimes wondering how to deserve the feel of you. When his lips touched yours, it wasn’t possessive. It was reverent. Like a vow. Like he'd never take such a gift for granted.

And from that moment, it was no longer a haunting.

It was a love story.

He no longer hid his face from you. Not even his scars. You knew every inch of him. The sadness buried in his silence, the gentle ache in his chest when you laughed at something he didn’t understand but wanted to. He traced poems across your skin at night, in languages forgotten by time. You whispered your fears to him, and he never tried to fix them, only held them with you.

One day it began with music. Soft, ethereal, drifting through the halls like the echo of something that had once been human. You had no idea where it came from. Maybe the world itself had learned how to sing just for the two of you.

You stood near the edge of a silver lake, its surface reflecting not the sky, but you. Dozens of you twirling in still water, your figure gently mirrored in a hundred delicate ripples.

Katakuri stood behind you, watching.

He rarely spoke during these moments. Words weren’t needed. The way his fingers grazed yours, the way his eyes followed your every breath it told you everything. And tonight, there was something in the air. A quiet ache. A yearning.

You turned to him, hand outstretched. “Dance with me.”

His brow lifted faintly, uncertain. “I don’t know how.”

You smiled, stepping close, placing his hand on your waist. “Then let me show you.”

It was clumsy at first. He was so tall, so careful, so aware of every inch of you as though he feared breaking something precious. But then… he let go. Just a little. Let the music move through him. Let you lead.

You laughed softly, breath catching when he finally moved in rhythm with you. His hand pressed at the small of your back, and his other fingers tangled with yours. You swayed beneath the shifting light of the mirrored stars, warm and close, until there was no space left between your bodies.

His forehead pressed to yours. His lips hovered above your own.

“Little mirror…” he whispered, voice low, unsteady. “I’ve never known peace… until you.”

You cupped his cheek. “And I’ve never known love until you.”

His breath hitched. And this time, when he kissed you, it was no longer careful.

It was hungry. Desperate. Worshipful.

He lifted you with ease, your legs curling around his waist as he walked you back into the silver grass, laying you down with such tenderness you could cry. His hands trembled at your hips, scarred mouth tracing along your throat, your collarbone, your heart.

The mirror world shimmered around you, responding to the sacredness of it all.

You were his. And he was yours.

Not a demon.

Not a reflection.

But a man.

And he loved you with every haunted, aching part of his soul.

[bi-panicatthedisco]

Beyond The Screen.

Octavinelle Part.

[Heya, author here. I don't know how to explain this one, honestly I wrote it all at like midnight so I don't remember much of it. Editing is for people who don't wanna go read Caters dream. So please enjoy my eepy fueled story! And as always, remember to drink some water and get some rest! And have a great rest of your day!]

One of the last things you would've expected after downloading a game like twisted wonderland, is for the characters to leave the dang game and show up irl! But things rarely go as you expect, and this is something it's nice to be wrong about.

It was a pretty regular day when it happened, just sitting down and playing twst. Only for an impromptu single pull on the banner, turning into SSR particles and a fancy coffin. Of course you're getting excited. But instead of showing your new card, you have the character fall right out of your screen onto the floor in front of you. Oh goodness gracious...

---------------Azul Ashengrotto----------------

Azul tumbles out of the screen clumsily, barely managing to catch himself with a spell before faceplanting on the floor. Though his glasses did fall off, he needs to fix these first impressions right away! So before picking them up, he instead turns to you (Or the fuzzy outline of you.) and begins what sounds like a pre practiced speech.

"Ahem, my dear player, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance~ I, Azul ashengrotto, have come to offer you a deal! No need to be wary, I assure it's nothing like those ones people signed during exam season. I merely want you to allow me to stay in your home for the foreseeable future, in exchange for services such as cleaning and cooking! Isn't that an agreeable deal? And I won't even make you sign a contract, just a verbal agreement and a handshake will do~"

Despite a little more squinting during the proposal than he'd intended, and his hand being a little to the right. It doesn't seem like a bad deal all in all. Now listen, you'd probably never sign a contract for this dude. But, no contract. So after a few nerve wracking moments for Azul, he sighs with relief as you place the glasses back on his face, and shake his hand, agreeing to his terms.

The relief he felt was immense, he knew that you knew about who he was. So he's a surprised you actually agreed, but glad nonetheless. Once he regains his composure properly (and stops staring at you in awe of how pretty you look now that he has his glasses again) he'll start right on his end of the deal. He can't give you a chance to back out now!

-a few months later-

Things have been going smoothly, all according to Azuls plans! He's made himself an unremovable part of your life, and your home has never been neater. Plus all your meals are amazing nutritionally wise, and pretty good tasting. Altogether, it should be perfect, right? Just say it's all perfect and stop talking about him going home.

Have you noticed it already? The hours he spends making failure after failure so your meals are perfect? The anxiety hidden beneath the surface? He wouldn't normally be this worried, but you know. You know everything he wanted to keep a secret. Can you tell how scared he is that he isn't doing enough? Please, just stop talking about his home. It isn't fair...

"Hm? Going home? Well of course I shall go home eventually, but our partnership here is a little more beneficial for the time being. As you well know, I'm a business man at heart. So until this deal runs dry, let's just continue like this~"

Azul will keep grasping for this life with you as long as he can, eventually he plans for you to sign a contract with him so you could never leave. So don't ruin it before then...

------------------Jade Leech-------------------

Jade is cunning, but not the quickest on his feet. So you get the absolutely once in a lifetime chance to see him face first on the floor, and completely caught off guard. Believe me, this never happens, so enjoy this for the brief moments you can before he picks himself up and brushes himself off. Then turns and smiles at you like that didn't just happen, offering a hand in greeting.

"Why hello, it's a pleasure to meet you of course. I've been waiting a long time to meet the illustrious player. I wish I had a gift to present to you, I did arrive unannounced after all. I hope you'll excuse that oversight on my part. Hm, this is the place the player resides in? You have quite the quaint abode. Would you mind terribly if I stayed here until I find my way back home?"

Despite how normal the words are, his tone is absolutely terrifying. He IS staying here, you don't have a say in this. In good news, he probably won't kill you? In not as good news, it's only a probably. But hey, maybe you can just ignore all those red flags, and signs, and honestly everything, and just accept the eel into your home and heart. I mean, he's gonna do that whether you want it or not, so it might be a good idea to just give in now.

Jade is already planning out how to make sure you never want him to leave, he knows that you've already seen a lot of his "behind the mask" so he's interested in seeing how you'll act knowing all that. Everything about you is just... Interesting. He can't wait to see how this all turns out (Cue evil laugh).

-a few months later-

Everything about you is just so fun, he loves learning all about what makes you tick. How flustered you could be when he holds your face in his gloved hand, and makes you look up into his eyes with that dang smile on his face. And he must admit he's starting to feel similarly, a strange experience. Sometimes he'd give you money with unknown origins so you'll stay home for a day, just don't ask where it came from. You Really don't wanna find out.

Jade is an expert at mind games, but it seems you still are able to find his weakness. You keep asking about when he plans on returning home, just the thought of it is revolting. Why would he abandon such a fun new... Ah probably shouldn't finish that line of thought. But nevertheless, you keep asking, and he keeps deflecting. And this will probably continue forever, or at least as long as this remains interesting~

"I should go home soon? Why yes, I assure you I'm working on a way home at every free moment. But it's all so difficult, I thank you for your patience with this horrid matter. In the meantime, shall I pour you a cup of tea? I made it fresh for you when I heard you come in."

Don't be fooled by his smile, he knows he already has you trapped. And who in their right mind would let their prey escape so easily?

------------------Floyd Leech------------------

Sure Floyd might've fallen on his face, but he has a big grin as soon as he sees you. You're the fun person behind shrimpy! Hehe, he's been wanting to meet'cha ever since he first noticed you way back then! He leans in close to your face as he speaks, looking as deranged as always :D

"Ehhh, it's the player? ahaha, I've wanted to see ya for awhile! You're cuter without that annoyin' screen in the way~ I just wanna squeeze you till you pop! ...huh you have an okay place I guess, it could definitely be a little more fun though~ You should draw a picture of me and hang it up!"

He gets so close your faces are practically touching, but he eventually sighs and turns a little to sit down next to you. Practically glued to your side as he does. ...is this a sign for things to come? I mean, you Could kick him out now, but why tho? This could be fun! Chilling with a erratic eel that popped out of your screen, I mean what's the worst that can happen?

Floyd is already looking forward to that~ what sorta chaos can he pull in this world? Ooh, he remembers this world doesn't have magic, that'll be super fun to mess around with! And this world has the player! Betcha all the guys back home would be super jealous of him right now~ He can't wait to try everything he's wanted to with you! And he knows for a fact it'll be fun!

-a few months later-

Well... Life has certainly become more... Fun? Is that the right word??? Since Floyd showed up. Every morning is a gamble as to whether your home is gonna be a mess from a random idea Floyd had, or sparkling clean since he had an urge to clean up and see your reaction. Speaking of, make sure to praise him for that, otherwise it's gonna be just the mess for awhile. And somehow he just has money??? Where? When? How??? Yeah, you aren't getting answers to any of those questions. Probably magic?

Well in any case, Floyd has certainly been enjoying himself! I mean he gets to have fun and hang out with you everyday! He's only had a few bad days since coming here, and they've always happened whenever you're being extra pushy about him going home. Like geez, when are ya gonna get it? You're way too oblivious if you think he ever is gonna go home before this gets boring.

"When do I wanna go home? Later. It's way more fun here~ you've been asking a lot recently, ...do you really wanna get rid of me that bad? Dang player, here I'd thought you'd be happy with just me. Guess I'll have to try harder! what's with that look on your face? Are ya scared~"

Floyd looks terrifying, but hey, might as well make the best of this. Since no matter the horrors about to be unleashed, with Floyd doing it, they're certain to be fun! (For Floyd)

[technovillain]

the fact that we never have any real conflict inside milla's brain was always weird to me, and that the only trouble you find is not only easy to miss but hard to locate at all.... this prototype with promo images showing party members getting snatched up by the nightmares is really interesting to me...

i was never really a fan of the nightmares' appearance in the milkman conspiracy. that level already has enough going on and the nightmares' presence is completely unintroduced and poorly explained. i'm thinking about how cool it could be if milla's brain had an actual lesson for the kids beyond levitation about the most important thing she learned from the psychonauts, how to focus your mind and maintain a safe mental space via distancing yourself and controlling recurrences of trauma within the brain space...

the same way that sasha's brain is ultimately just a test for razputin, so is milla's. in my first playthroughs of the game i thought that maybe raz had really messed up sasha's brain a little bit, but then i realized overtime that the whole thing is a totally controlled environment. sure sasha is a closed off person, and very straight-laced, but i don't believe that his brain is constantly *that* empty all the time. he gives razputin direct instruction to shut off all the censor valves, which is the thing that causes the problem. it was all a training thing for raz to learn about control, there's even a hidden game line from sasha about the whole thing being a test. i just think that sasha is a poor communicator. his failure to express afterwards that the whole thing was a test was what failed razputin when he meddled in the mind of hollis forsythe, and why sasha's disappointment in him afterwards feels a little strange (like "you let me mess things up in YOUR head and it was okay, how was i to know?")

can you imagine a version of milla's dance party where the party is bumpin and all the campers are having a good time, but the other guests keep slowly disappearing, getting snatched up by the nightmares?? eventually, the other campers disappear too. later on, the room with the "milla's children" vault is presented to you more in the likes of oleander's side room with the little red curtain, where you are obviously supposed to see it, but *not supposed to see it*, and milla still encourages you not to go in there. when you get to the platform with milla at the end, everyone else is missing. she plays "where could they be?" and you find the nightmare room. you have to fight the nightmares to get the party guests back. you find that you can't *kill* the nightmares, however, and you instead put them behind bars.

ultimately the level could end with a similar level of "brain intrusion" as sasha's. like how sasha was okay with you knowing a little about his past, but probably didn't need to *also* show you what happened when he read his dad's mind and accidentally saw his mother in an inappropriate light. like not everything went smoothly, and he was obviously uncomfortable after the level being all "no, let's never speak of this again" like i imagine he unintentionally overshared and maybe messed with his 'image' a little. this version of milla's level could end with her being happy that she taught the kids about meditation through levitation, keeping the bad thoughts at bay but still acknowledging them as part of you, but she didn't like, need you to see that vault about her children being burned alive. because that would be fucked up to show to the kids. and maybe she got a little in that headspace again during the level and 'broke face' and got a little "protect the children!" about the campers in the face of the nightmares, but settles back down and gets back to the party by the end.

i imagine this is how the level would go if it was written more like pn2 levels are written, where every single level has a clear real-world-applicable mental health topic to cover. i still love milla's dance party, don't get me wrong, but it always felt a little anticlimactic or lacking in story compared to the rest of the brains, and these early promo shots just set me off in wondering if they ever intended on there being a lot more conflict in her mind earlier in development.

[lushrve]

hockeyteam!141 x figureskater!reader

cause who doesn't want the image of these boys all sweaty and bloody in hockey gear (also i haven't mastered writing in a scottish or manchester accent yet so don't come for me)

you’re a figure skater, something you’ve devoted your whole life since childhood to. over the years, you’ve honed your craft, becoming one of the best in your area. you do well enough at competitions; not olympic material, but skilled enough to bring home a state title every now and again. you take pride in the way your body glides across the ice, painting pretty pictures with each scrape of the blade of your skate. it’s methodical, structured, clean. if you close your eyes, you can almost pretend you’re dancing on clouds.

it’s a small town and there’s only one ice rink for miles, so of course you run into the local hockey team practicing and warming up for matches. you don’t know most of them (don’t care to, frankly), but some are more notorious than others.

the team captain and center, price, the tactical mind behind their victories. from the few games you’ve watched them play, you can tell that he calls the shots. you watch as he sits on the bench, watching his teammates rush back and forth across the ice. it’s like he sees beyond the game. sometimes, you see him close his eyes, like he’s seeing a play take shape in his head, before calling out to the others and making it happen. they always listen, his booming baritone too compelling to disregard. (that voice made you feel something too, but you didn’t want to admit it.)

then there was a defenseman, simon. you just knew him as “riley” by the last name emblazoned on the back of his jersey. but if you listened closely (and you did), his teammates called him ghost. it didn’t take you very long to find out why. ghost was a large man, all broad shoulders and hard lines. he preferred the silent approach to taking down an opponent, slamming them against the boards before they could even register the sound of his skates scraping the ice. he played dirty, your eyes often meeting his when the referee threw him in the penalty box. (he winked at you once as he cleaned some blood from his lip, fresh from a fight. you pretended not to notice.)

left wing belonged to johnny, a scottish man they called soap. he got his nickname from his assist record, always coming in to clean up what price or ghost or another teammate had fumbled to lead his team to victory. he was quick on his feet, but brutal. while ghost was the primary muscle, soap wasn’t afraid to get physical if someone was coming between him and a goal. soap was also mouthy, chirping in his thick accent across the ice to get in the other team’s head. half the things he said, you don’t understand. hell, the other team probably didn’t either. but the tone was what mattered. (he leaned over the plexiglass after a solid win, personally inviting you back to their next home game. you blushed crimson.)

right wing was kyle. by far the prettiest one on the team, you thought. he’d take his helmet off as he skated back to the bench, running a hand through his sweat-soaked curls. the sight of him was like a work of art, a canvas brutalized by the nature of an aggressive team sport. he wasn’t as quick to get physical as the others were, but the moment everyone dogpiled on the ice, he was right there in the fray, throwing punches that landed just as loud and hard as the rest of them. the way he moved on the ice almost reminds you of your routines, careful and choreographed. he knew exactly where he was going, and he always hit his marks. (you wondered if he always moved like that, wondered if he danced through life.)

ghost and soap approached you after a win, coming up into the stands after they’d stripped themselves of their gear. while soap looked a bit smaller after shedding the heavy padding, ghost didn’t. still a hulking wall of muscle. “oughta sit in the stands mo’ often, birdie,” soap chirped, a smug smile on his face as he leaned on his hockey stick. “y’r like a good luck charm fer us.” you blushed pretty, averting your eyes and missing the way the two men looked at each other. you’d do just nicely, they thought. ghost cleared his throat, your eyes snapping up to him like he’d commanded it. (he could’ve. you would’ve obeyed.) “when d’you skate again?” he asked, arms crossed over his expansive chest.

“y’ve seen us in our element. now we wanna see you in y’rs.”

[asterkatt]

ISAT ACT 5 SPOILERS!!

okay I said I was going to give more thoughts on act 5 of ISAT and then uh. I didn't. oopsies. but we're here now!!

I loved Odile's friendquest in this act SO much. one of my favorite things about the way the game handled Siffrin's actions throughout the entirety of act 5 in general is that everyone's reactions to him were so DIFFERENT. but not only were they different, they had reasons for being different. it wasn't just "Siffrin says something messed up, hurts someone's feelings, pushes it down, rinse and repeat". each "breakdown" was specifically tailored to be character specific. to fit in with how they've behaved in the story thus far, as well as how Siffrin feels about them/tends to respond to them in particular. with Mirabelle, it really was entirely accidental. Siffrin didn't even realize how their wording might come across in the moment. It wasn't him lashing out in any way - just him genuinely trying to cut corners. Odile?? Odile's was very different. it's easy to see that there's a lot of tension between Siffrin and Odile - more tension than there is with anyone else. Odile has been a thorn in Sif's side - constantly observing and watching and theorizing about why they're behaving strangely. I did the sus quest. Sif knows that she has the ability to figure it out. Consequently, they have to be way more aware of her than anyone else. (side note that's not entirely relevant to this but I want to bring it up - the fact Siffrin believes that her constant eye on him is because "she doesn't trust you" makes me sick. because that's not it at all. they might pretend it is. hell, she might act like it is. but it's not and she knows that. she knows it's because she's worried because she cares and Siffrin can't understand that.) so I feel like they took the "mistake" of messing up with Odile harder than they took any of the other interactions. because how could they be so stupid. how could they forget. how could he forget that she always figures it out.

so of course he lashes out. not only are they being faced with the same blinding mistake they've made over and over and over again, it's also a reminder that she doesn't trust him. (and why should she?).

and then she goes and makes it all worse by calling him a "friend". because they know that's not how she sees them. he believes that she doesn't trust him. so it must seem like she's directly lying to his face - and she thinks they're too dense to see through it.

I love that Odile doesn't back down. she doesn't shy away when they start yelling at her. she doesn't let it slide just because she made them upset (Isa and Mira both probably would - though Isa would try and get them to talk about it later). she pushes, because that's the only way she's going to get any answers.

the way you can feel her anger when Siffrin hits her where it hurts the most (without even seeing her face) is just AUHGSKJDHFKJSH. the writing of this game. the details. never cease to amaze me. I love the way she snaps back. she doesn't get angry, she doesn't yell - and yet somehow it hurts just as badly.

I also love the way Siffrin reflects on it - the way they acknowledge that "she was only worried about you!!!" because deep down he knows that their friends do actually care about him. the way Odile handles the situation afterwards as well - at the clocktower?????? I love that you can tell she's trying so hard to make the "right" choice to not endanger them when it's not what she wants. she doesn't want to leave Siffrin behind. If they weren't going to take on the King the next day, I guarantee you she'd be using anything in her power to figure out what was going on with him. I don't have the exact quote rn but at the end of the sus questline she mentions that she can't let something go when she finds it odd - and this is BEYOND odd. but she has to put the safety of the whole group and their mission first, and I love seeing that side of her.

[mebis-rain-world-corner]

Within rain world's visual motifs, there's chains

Chains are present throughout the whole game as old remnants and possibly as part of machinery

However, there's places where they show to have a deeper meaning

Shaded "The True Anoited" Citadel, Holy Ground where memories are cherished, has an unique style of column that incorporates a chain motif

it can be better appreciated on the ruins immediately around the shoreline gate, where they're better iluminated

This pattern is also present on the cabinets

This motif runs older though, much much older

to the time of the Depths

A statue of a humanoid, in the classic stance of an echo, chest binded in chains

A head wrapped in chains, to the point of covering all features

...but with an X breaking the pattern, cutting through the chains

In a way, the progression of the higher levels of karma look more like cutting through a knot or a ring, a visual of breaking the cycle

this already gives in the meaning behind this motif: the chains are the cycle, binding the self to the carnal, ascension being the severing of the cycle to move freely above and beyond

Its entire memory is filled with a mantra repeated... 5061 times - and then a termination verse. It was worn as an amulet, probably together with many identical others forming a pattern on some garment. The repeating mantra is important because it symbolizes the cyclical nature of life and death, and the termination verse is a symbol for ascension above and beyond it. I don't know how familiar you are with the nature of life and death, but I imagine like all living creatures you have some intuitive knowledge? Then you know that death isn't the end - birth and death are connected to each other like a ring, or some say a spiral. Some say a spiral that in turn forms a ring. Some ramble in agonizing longevity. But the basis is agreed upon: like sleep like death, you wake up again - whether you want to or not. This is true for all living things, but some actually break the cycle. That doesn't apply to you or me though, you are too entangled in your animal struggles, and for me not breaking that cycle is an integral part of the design. Our mantras keep repeating.

"(...) and then a termination verse"

What is a chain if not a number of interlocked rings? The Shaded Citadel pattern even looks more like a double spiral, a double helix

The urges are also described as "binding"

fun fact one of the elements in an echo's design is called chains

it's the row of golden flakes bound to the legs

considering the depths statues, maybe part of the rituals in preparation for ascension included binding the body in chains, as a metaphor for the binding nature of the cycle, meant to dissolve in the void alongside the body as signifier of the liberation of the mind

[masterqwertster]

You know how Matt mentioned in the Wrap Up that Otohan and Eshteross had a rivalry/blood feud from the Apex War? I wish he would have actually stated that in the game. Or at least made it plainly obvious.

Like, it would have been so easy for him to put that hook out there with some different phrasing or one more little line of dialogue.

Otohan gets Eshteross's name/face from Orym's mind when she confronts Bells Hells in Bassuras. Adding a simple line like "I see he continues to get in my way." would have made it so clear that she has pre-existing beef with Eshteross. Much more so than the canon "Eshteross. Interesting. I'll have to pay him a visit. That old fool meddles far beyond his aspirations." I mean, if you already know that there's beef, then yeah, you can read that here. But when you don't, it just comes across as she got a name and saw an old orc in Orym's mind who's meddling in affairs far beyond most people.

Or Eshteross's response to being told Otohan was coming for him was "I knew this time would come." And again, comes across different if you know the beef existed, but without that knowledge reads as I knew someone powerful would come for my head eventually.

And even when Eshteross is talking with Bells Hells before they get whisked off by Keyleth to resurrect Laudna, he says "Well, if this so-called Legend of the Peaks seeks to find me, she will. I will not run. There is no safer place than my home. I spent many, many years preparing for just this." Same deal, does refer to the beef, does not do so in a manner that makes the beef abundantly clear. And saying "I've heard the legends" when they tell him Otohan's fast. Buddy, you were ostensibly there for some of those legends.

Just a little "I've survived her before." somewhere in there would have made it so clear that Eshteross had encountered Otohan before and probably would have gotten Bells Hells asking questions and getting some of that Apex War lore they never went looking for.

It's just one of those little things that could have happened but didn't.