#~empathic enigma~

[moonlitazure]

"O-Oh! It's just about Christmas! Merry Christmas, everyone!"

"And a Happy Birthday to you, sexy.~"

"....." Kazuki sprays Jun with a water bottle like a naughty cat. "No. Bad Jun. No traumatizing the shrinking violets."

Loud Feline Hissing

[moonlitazure]

"Roar freely.~ Not that taking the head of a Bronze player is too much an accomplishment anyways, even for a likely support main like you. "

"Jun. You main support."

"You main Lux support, for that matter. You're usually MY support."

"Naturally so, considering you main Swain APC. One of us racks them up, the other finishes them, and they're helpless within ten minutes.~"

@moonlitazure

“I got the head of their Kha’zix from Bronze Six! I’m done with the dyin’! ‘Cause I am a champion - and I’m gonna Battle Roar! Louder, louder than a Voli! 'Cause I am a champion - and I’m gonna Battle Roar!”

Seems she’s showing off her League knowledge.

[bunji-enthusiast]

Hey Bunji

This is my first time doing a request for you and I was wondering if you could write for Raven reader? For the Invincible show?

And ship them with Mark or Rex if thats not too much trouble?

𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞

Mark, Rex [seperate] x Raven!Reader

Note // I believe this is the first I’ve ever gotten a request for Invincible so huzzah! I went with headcanons here, hope that’s okay. 💤

Mark Grayson

Mark isn’t used to quiet. After everything—with his dad, the Viltrumites, Earth almost being obliterated twice over—he associates silence with tension, like something bad’s about to happen. But you? You are silence. Calm. Stillness. And at first, it unnerves him.

Then he realizes it's peace. You’re peace. He starts seeking it out—your room, your aura, the soft way you exist without demanding anything. You don’t ask him to be okay. You just sit beside him and let your soul-self settle in the space like it knows he needs to breathe. And for the first time since Chicago, he does.

Mark knows the inner struggles of having to deal with the weight of your father's legacy, Nolan's misdeeds hang over his head constantly; even if it had been lessened overtime, he still gets reminded of it every once in a while. So it at least makes for good conversation of talking about who's father is shittier, your talks about your own father --- Trigon is quite the surprise. But he doesn't diminish his worry for you, and ensures that you get it off your chest if you want to. Shitty fathers are shitty fathers after all, so he gets the confusion when it comes to the switch-ups. One day so kind and gentle, then the other they're ruthless and cold. Fathers are a complete and utter enigma, especially estranged ones, particularly alien fathers.

He’s an early riser now—not by choice, but from trauma. Wakes up with a jolt, sweat-drenched, heart racing. You’re usually already awake, meditating or floating gently above the bed, a soft violet glow casting shadows across the room.

“Nightmare?” you ask, voice like velvet but laced with quiet knowing. He nods. You open your arms and he’s already climbing in. He doesn't cry. Not every time. But when he does, you let him. No judgment. No advice. Just warmth, soul, and that steady pulse of empathic magic that reminds him—he’s not alone.

Being able to actively choose the path of healing and empathy is something he greatly admires about you, and chooses to take on the lead himself, even if his efforts for and across space is continually tested. Mark hates the ache in his bones and constant fighting, he knows his perception of heroism has been easily skewed--but your presence remains a strong pillar in his view of it.

As Invincible, he knows. Mark doesn't judge you for being half-human and half-demon, he himself is a hybrid as well. Even if his powers kicked in way later than expected of the average viltrumite. Mark thinks your amazing for pursing your own goals and constantly on your own path to form an identity uniquely your own, not having to be extension of anyone else, your just... you. Even despite knowing how cheesy that is, but he gets it, and will continue to cheer you on for that. He's that guy in your corner even if you feel like there's nobody else there.

He’s in awe of your powers. Every time you phase your soul-self or bend time around the two of you during high-emotion moments, he’s just standing there like, “Okay, that was sick.”

You once stopped time mid-fight because he was about to get skewered. When you restarted it, he barely dodged, landed a hit, and after the battle you scolded him. He grinned, wiped blood off his lip, and said, “Thanks for the time-out, coach.”

The first time you used empathy on him intentionally? He’d just flown back from a mission, shoulders tight with suppressed rage. You didn’t say anything—just reached out and felt the storm in him. He didn’t realize how close he was to breaking until he felt you soften it.

He kissed you like you were the only thing holding him together. Because you were.

Additionally to the fact about his love towards your spells, if you had ever summoned forth your more demonic form to perform more complicated spells when neccessary; he's just amazed, that's all. Mark knows he hasn't been Invincible as long as other heroes in the field, but he's seen and done alot, so seeing something as dark as you is like a fresh of breath air.

And that you aren't actively out to kill him, which is also nice.

Dancing with you is one of his favorite things to do, just slow and gentle. It's more than anything he's asked for within his life, and it's easy. Enough to simply just let other things in his life melt away and be in the moment with you, even if you two seem to float in the sky. Your hair becomes something akin to that of the aurora borealis when you two dance in the sky, and he loves to watch that happen. It's a gentle light, nice and bright, easy to follow even in the darkest spots.

your tutelage over your book is something else to be sure, Mark knows and learned of it a while long before you two had officially been dating. He has indefinitely learned not to touch it, and left it to your vices. But he certainly can't lie, Mark finds it super cool when your focused with your grimoire.

There are often moments in combat where you two conflict, but you are emotionally-restrained, and that ends up in you lashing out sometimes whilst in combat. You try your best to redirect your lashings against the villiains though, however, Mark does his best to redirect it without hurting you. His guilt weighs immensely when he does make up with you, however you aren't having it and tell him you were much at fault as he was. Though in the end he is relieved.

Both of you have immense gaits of trust, where as you find it difficult to trust anyone. There is an immense similarity in which you both share where you find it even more difficult to forgive said person if they break your trust, it takes effort and time to build a bond with others. Many times of which Mark has agreed with and backed you up on when you both argue with others about some people in certain situations.

You do have a place—modestly enchanted, soundproofed, and black-out spelled so you’re not melting under the sun. Mark jokes it’s like living in a Batcave with plants. He lowkey loves it though. The air smells like sage and lilac. It’s always cool. And it feels safe.

He has a toothbrush there. A drawer. His favorite hoodie is mysteriously missing from his place because you wear it when he’s off-world. It smells like sky and blood and him.

The soul-self curls protectively around his side when he sleeps over. He calls it “the bird blanket” and once tried to draw a dumb cartoon version of it to make you laugh. It did.

When you’re together, you both get to be soft. Mark, especially, lets down his armor with you. He doesn’t have to be Invincible. Doesn’t have to pretend the galaxy isn’t crumbling. He gets to just be… Mark.

You two have a ritual: once a week, you both switch off everything—no patrols, no Cecil, no emergencies unless the literal sun implodes—and you just exist. You read to each other, you float on the ceiling together, you nap under a weightless spell.

He once said, “I love how your magic makes me feel like I’m floating. Even when I’m not flying.” That one stayed with you.

Mark both appreciates and hates how to-the-point you are, while the blunt honesty is something he understands he needs to hear more often, he wishes you could just lie about certain things.

When Mark spirals—guilt, pressure, grief—you don’t tell him to stop. You let him feel. And then you remind him that he’s not his father. You remind him that his rage doesn’t define him. That you’ve seen worse. Been worse. And you’re still worthy of love.

“You’re allowed to fall apart,” you whisper once, when he came home after a near-fatal mission, shirt soaked in blood that wasn’t his. “I’ll hold the pieces. Until you’re ready to be whole again.”

And he does. He lets go. Because if he can trust anyone with that fragile part of him, it’s you.

He never tells you you're too much, even when you struggle to stay grounded in this realm. Even when your magic flares and your emotions flood the room.

“You’re everything,” he says once, voice shaking. “Even when you disappear into yourself, I still feel you. I see you.”

He holds your face like you’re breakable even though you’re probably the stronger one. His kisses taste like stardust and grief and stubborn hope.

And when he tells you he loves you? It’s not loud. Not shouted. It’s whispered at 3AM, against your temple, while the soul-self watches from the shadows. “I love you. I love you so much it hurts.”

Rex Sloan

One word: surprise. It's admittedly something excitable knowing that the two of you are genuinely dating, the effort is definitely there on both ends. There are seldom who know of about you two this way, which is what you preferred, and what he respected.

Rex is a major snark, and a huge joker. Which goes hand in hand with your ability to make sarcastic remarks, and he often bounces of your remarks with an additional joke. He absolutely loves it, and it's often your predominant dynamic when out in the field.

Rex’s idea of “settling down” involves you both living in a high-rise apartment, reinforced with blast-proof walls (because, well… him). You made a few modifications too—enchantments to muffle explosions, floating bookshelves, and an invisible barrier over the windows that filters sunlight so you can actually be in the living room for more than five minutes without feeling like your soul’s on fire.

He jokes about your need to stay inside—“What, you’re not a fan of Vitamin D or chaos?”—but secretly, he loves it. It means more time curled up on the couch with you, wrapped in that massive black throw blanket he swears smells like lavender and lightning.

You’re still, grounded in emotion, darkness, and mysticism. He’s fire and motion, sarcasm and scars. He burns fast and bright, and you slow him down. You still time when his anxiety gets too loud. Sometimes you don't say a word—just touch his wrist gently and pause. Letting him catch up to the world. Or himself.

And when you’re spiraling, overwhelmed by waves of emotion that don’t belong to you, he doesn’t say much either. He doesn’t try to fix it. He just throws a hoodie over your shoulders, tells you you’re still hot even with your soul flickering on the ceiling, and sits by you. Lets you feel. Doesn’t flinch.

He LOVES that you can project your soul-self. Thinks it’s the coolest thing ever. “Babe, babe—can you use the soul-thingy to go see if the pizza guy’s almost here?” You pretend to roll your eyes. You do it anyway.

He also occasionally refers to your powers as “Witchy Vibes” with no disrespect intended. He actually means it as a compliment. He’s fascinated by how effortlessly you tap into the arcane. "You could straight-up Thanos the whole city if you wanted. And you're choosing to love me? Wild."

You’ve both got baggage. He doesn’t always talk about what was done to him, what he lost, how he was made into something meant to blow up. But you feel it—the way his emotions spike and flicker when his past is mentioned. You never push. Just open up your aura, give him a safe place to rest.

You’re used to silence being sacred. He’s not. But over time, he gets it. He starts understanding that your quiet doesn’t mean distance. Sometimes your love is just… gentle gravity, not loud fireworks.

And when he slips up—because he does sometimes—he’s the first to own it.

He falls asleep with his hand loosely curled around your soul-self’s feathers. It calms him more than melatonin or meditation ever could. You don’t tell him it’s kind of adorable, because then he’d never do it again. But you watch him sometimes, the way his breathing slows, and you feel your own heart settle.

He loves kissing your forehead after a battle. “Still in one piece?” he murmurs, running a hand over your cheek. You nod, and he adds with a grin, “Damn shame, you’re so hot when you look haunted.”

He pretends to be annoyed when you use temporal stasis to freeze him mid-rant, but he secretly thinks it’s hilarious. He once spent twenty minutes frozen with a sock halfway off his foot, and you used the time to paint his nails black. He rocked the look for weeks.

You don’t really believe in fate. Not exactly. But there’s something undeniable about the way his chaos and your calm fit together like two halves of a broken sigil. You're his anchor in the storm. And he? He’s the light that flickers in your darkest nights—messy, reckless, human light.

“I’m not easy,” he tells you once, eyes unusually serious. “I talk too much, I break shit, and I’ve hurt people. I don’t… deserve you.”

You look at him, your soul-self swirling behind you, power and pain and purity all wrapped together. “You’re right,” you say. Then you lean in and kiss him, slow and sure. “But you’re mine.”

[rheitais]

Dp x Dc Prompt - Hypnosis

Danny was having a good life. Vlad finally left his family alone (he got a cat and WELL needed therapy), his parents accepted him, Dan returned but he was also getting better and the GIW isn't after him. He is now in college getting a medical degree since he isn't biologically able to go to space. That was until he met Bruce Wayne. He was an enigma. While Danny and Harvey complain about their respective exams, Bruce was always spacing out. Danny asked Harley even and she didn't know what he was doing. Then Bruce dropped out, dropped off the face of the earth while at it. Danny checked, he was still alive but just not there anymore.

Danny couldn't help but worry about his friend but he needed to keep going so that was what he did. Years later, everything was peaceful. That was until he got an aggressive hello from the city's new vigilante, Batman had crashed through his clinic window. Batman was aggressive and intimidating but Danny had a weird suspicion that the Bat wasn't actually there for an interrogation. Batman seemed more relieved and just left the way he came. Danny was salty about his window for sure.

Anyway this would be a weird slow burn between emotionally constipated Bruce and Empath Doctor Danny. Bruce was just checking if his last friend from college was a villain too. Danny was just a Kooky doctor, not exactly evil but not sane either.

[Masterpost]

[mushroom-words]

You're My Downfall, You're My Muse || Jasper Hale

Fandom: Twilight Pairing: Jasper Hale x GN!Reader Words: 661 Notes: This is rewritten and reposted from a previous blog. Warnings: Human!Reader. Swan!Sibling!Reader. Summary: Your sister and his brother are creating waves. You remind Jasper that you were once the same.

EVERYBODY STARED AS Edward crossed the parking lot with the new girl tucked under his arm. The interest in the absolutely fascinating sight ranged from anger to excitement to a deeply seeded concern. In a town as small as Forks, discretion was hard to come by.

        Color flooded Bella’s cheeks. It would have given her away had you not known her well enough already to know she had just whispered something to him. Her voice kept quiet and soft so only he could hear. She was trying to hide from drawing any further attention to herself.

        You knew your sister like the back of your hand.

        Your attention shifted from them as you sensed the increasing tension radiating from the body at your side. Frowning gently, you looked at your boyfriend, who had gone completely rigid with something other than the fight for control that consumed him every minute he was forced to play his part. You worried what might be going through his mind as he watched his youngest brother hold open the car door for your fragile, human sister.

        Reaching over the console, you took his hand gently in yours and observed, “You’re worried.”

        Jasper sat still as the marble he looked to be sculpted from. Behind the tinted windows, he was safe from any prying eyes who might have thought to follow in your foolish footsteps and dig deeper into the Cullen-Hale enigma than they should. Of course, if they did, they might have been faced with a far less desirable outcome.

        After a second, he squeezed your hand and looked at you with a smirk. “I thought I was the empath, darling.”

        His Southern drawl still made your heart flutter. You knew it would so long as the muscle ws beating. A wave of calm reassurance flowed into your mind and chipped away at the tension which ate at the edges of your soul. But his attempt to lighten the air didn’t erase the concern sinking in his deep gaze.

        “I don’t need special abilities to know when you’re upset,” you countered, “and yours aren’t going to make me feel any better until you’ve talked to me.”

        Frustration dented Jasper’s brow. He never wanted to be the reason for anything but your happiness and safety. He continued to believe his habit of shutting you out of his problems would keep you from carrying more burdens on your shoulders even though you hated it when he did it.

        You raised a brow at his silence and slowly rubbed your thumb across his knuckles.

        Jasper sighed and leaned back in the driver’s seat, both actions performed more out of habit than need. His fingers curled around the steering wheel until the leather started to strain under the pressure.

        “If they end badly,” he said roughly, “it all ends badly.”

        He slipped his hand out from under yours to start the car. The engine rumbled to life as the meaning behind the words vibrated between you. As the newest “vegetarian,” as Dr. Cullen had dubbed their lifestyle, he struggled tremendously with keeping his bloodlust in control. His biggest fear was losing it and killing someone, killing you, and putting his family at risk again.

        Taking your respectful silence, he pulled from the parking lot and elaborated vaguely, “A lot could go wrong, and if anything does… Them being together just puts a lot at stake.”

        “So do we,” you argued carefully, “but we’re making it work. We should give Bella and Edward the same chance.”

        You leaned over and kissed his cheek before resting your hand on his shoulder. He laced your fingers together again and held your hand on your thigh. The silence wrapped around you, leaving nothing but the smooth engine to fill the void.

        Jasper lifted your locked hands and kissed the back of yours. “I just don’t wanna lose you, (Y/N). I can’t.”

        “You won’t,” you told him. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

[a-sip-of-milo]

NPD Resources Masterlist

[BPD]

The official resources masterlist for NPD. Includes all the links I've shared in the past and stuff I haven't.

Any posts I've linked about supporting those with NPD have been put in the misc section because I do not want to take away from what this post is really about, which is helping people with NPD, not the people around them.

Diagnostic criteria

NPD diagnostic criteria, rewritten by someone who has it

Official diagnostic criteria

An explanation of the diagnostic criteria

Recovery resources FOR the narcissist

NPD recovery resources

How to find therapy for NPD, common types of therapy and signs of an abusive/toxic therapist

Narcissist supply

What is narc supply?

Things that can give a narcissist supply

NPD stigma

The perception of NPD symptoms vs. how a narcissist might actually experience them

Why those with NPD have a hard time seeking help (spoiler alert: it's not because they're unaware)

A plea from someone with NPD (and some resources debunking common misconceptions)

Narcissism is not abusive / abuse is abusive

Debunking common myths on NPD

Common disproven myths about NPD

Miscellaneous

How to support someone with NPD

NPD Carrd (What is NPD, dpt skills and self-help)

Unravelling the connection: npd as a trauma response

NPD terminology (do's and dont's)

NPD safe blogs

@empath-abuse-awareness

@enigma-in-reality

@loverofmirage

@the-npd-culture-is

@nicepersondisorder

@theegosystem

@mischiefmanifold

NPD positivity so you don't have to go looking

Reblog to kiss a narcissist on the forehead

Reblog to tell your local narcissist that they're the best ever

Happy NPD appreciation day

Positivity for systems with NPD

Be normal about narcissists unless it's to give them love

NPD should be EPD (Epic Personality Disorder)

Of course I have a praise kink, I have NPD

Narcissists are so beautiful and handsome and wonderful

Positivity for narcissists who like sex

I love my narcissists

Aromantic narcissists are amazing

Narcissists I love you

Easy ways to spot a narcissist (it's not what you think <;3)

Narcissists deserve to be loved

As usual, if something needs to be deleted because it's wrong/comes from a toxic author/etc. please let me know. I tried to look on Google but all I found was ableist shit, so these are all found by your fellow narcissists on tumblr :)

Edit: If you have any resources, please send them to me through an ask or DM and i'll check it out/add it!

[daylighted]

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐀.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ━ㅤ ㅤ sam winchester.

the tale of the lord of the sea and the gentle maiden whose home was always amongst the waves.

a poseidon reimagining, through the veiled, handcrafted lens of sam winchester and reader, who brings gods to their knees, addressed as pearl, fem pronouns. interconnected standalone sequel to life unto death.

content warnings. discussions of death & drowning. poseidon is not a total monster. no happy ending. open ending.

word count. 5k

it did not stop pouring the day that the village drowned.

she was always disconnected from the rest of the townsfolk, pearl was. an enigma, her parents sighed in her mention; an enigma, her peers snickered at her presence; an enigma, he whispered to himself, as he watched from the horizon as her entire cruel town was engulfed in lapping wakes of water.

he did not let the water, not a single drop, land on the roof of her cottage by the seaside.

it was not an uncommon occurrence for him to linger atop the shores, breathing in air that he did not need to breathe, so long as he could taste the same salt-twinged air as her.

the town did not rise from the depths, and the water did not draw back into the sea, and yet throughout all of this, pearl did not leave.

he had never been frightened that she would. he'd never doubted her at all, as every other person in her life seemed to. there was something about his pearl that called to him, and as she got more determined, or perhaps more frustrated, she braved the harsh waves and answered his own calls.

there were no words for the goddess she had become in her seclusion. little starfish clung to the glittering, salted strands of her now curled hair; freckles dusted her skin like raindrops; and her pink coral mouth was turned down into the prettiest sneer he'd ever seen.

"why have you forsaken me like this?" she calls from the shoreline that marred the front entrance to her small home. "what have i done to deserve this isolation?"

he was certain that her eyes were locked onto his. he could feel the penetrating gaze of her defiance, her devastation. and, as he'd done many times since his accidental discovery of the girl with salt water in her blood, he took the wind between his fingers and forged a note in between its gusts, and let his words be carried over the miles between them.

you are not isolated, they curl around her ear and promise, for you have me.

maybe he was a selfish bastard; but weren't all gods? give a man an inch, and he will take a mile. give a god an inch, and he will drown the cruel town that tormented his fascination.

she had began to start calling him samuel, his pearl. a title which translated to the name of god, all of which were true, he figures. can't argue with. the mer beneath the ocean's waters called him poseidon, though his attachment to that name slipped away the longer that pearl spoke to him.

and gods, was her mouth colorful. even when he was beneath the surface of the waves, he could hear her cursing him to every other god that she could name - of which he was certain his brothers were getting quite the laugh over.

he did not fully understand her discontent, however: he'd saved her. spared her from the drowning inside of her mind, and from the drowning he unleashed upon her home. the problems of humans were the size of salt grains, to him, and so he could not figure out how to empathize with her, or to apologize.

that day, the cruel twist of pearl's words had fallen off into resignation. poseidon could never deny himself something he wanted or longed for, and so it was easy to rise above the lapping water and steal a peek at the girl of salt water. her fingers danced over the water's surface, playing with the gentle waves that he sent to her. the god of the sea, gone molten in the presence of a woman made up of flame and ire.

"i know you listen to me, samuel," she says, and the rolling waves, his most loyal of messengers, carries the sound of her voice back to him, "i ask you again what i have done, to be trapped in the center of your seas, with no one for company. not even you, who stays beneath more than you come to play."

the cruelest of bastards could not even deny such invitations. the seas parted, revealing a coral lined surface beneath their depths, as he began the distance from his place in the ocean's center, to the woman that he deemed the center of himself.

pearl did not balk, or shrink away. even as tall as he was, even as big as he was, she held her ground, inches beneath the nose he looked down at her from. "where did you get the impression that i had a common name?"

"samuel is not common around here," she shoots back at him, and even as his voice echoes, hers carries, "as i am the only human being left."

"i am here," he hums, and it makes him uncomfortable, to hear what she deems as one of his faults weaponized against him. "is that not enough?"

it is crazy, the things that adoration and affinity cause you to excuse. she was angry with him, but did not curse the very existence of himself. her finger stabs into his chest but he does not take hold of it and break it.

pearl was a girl made of salt and ire. she would not whittle under his pressure. she would blossom anew. "you are not human. you are a god with the temperament of a human, but you are not like me."

his fingers close around her finger, lifting it easily from digging into the bare skin of his chest. "and you were not like them."

her skin is warm beneath his. he is tempted to never let go, to test his luck and see if she glimmers under the heavy weight of his gaze, or crumbles into sand.

"that is not a fair assessment," pearl fires off, and his defenses crumble in its wake, "letting your seas swallow my livelihood was not your call to make."

his tug is gentle, but it is enough to bring her closer to him, to lean down a head's worth of height and meet her eyes properly. "darling, your livelihood was not amongst their numbers. it has always been amongst those seas."

he does not see pearl for a fortnight. it is the longest fourteen days of his life; a hard accomplishment to make, when days blink by like seconds to him, and weeks like minutes.

but she prays. how lovely her voice can be when it's not full of her hurt and her wrath, when it calls to him in times where she cannot see his face except in the depths of her mind. perhaps it is easier that way, to speak her truths without the gaze of a god searing into her as she stumbles for proper words.

"i know the town still exists beneath the surface," pearl whispers to her steepled hands, her forehead to the wooden bedframe, "so i would ask to see it. if it was so important for it to be drowned, i would ask to see what has become of my childhood home and its neighboring predecessors."

he does not listen to every prayer that finds its way beneath the ocean's waves. but he listens to hers every time that they come.

she wakes up in the morning to the seas drawn back deeply, tall waves peaking at the distant horizon and lightly splashing on the doorsteps of dilapidated homes.

she has always seen so much, pearl. poseidon could claim that all of this was done in favor of her protection, but it started as the beginnings of a plan to forge a kingdom beneath the water. as the earthly populations grew, his sea creatures and his mer's did, too.

destroying the lives of people that hurt you was only the catalyst. homes made of wood had already been repurposed and reinforced with coral. algae and seaweed danced in the cracks of the windows and the open doors.

what was once dreary and small, her village, was now crafted anew. her grief was still evident in her expression, but there was a sense of exactly what samuel had grown to expect from her, beneath the surface of her emotions. awe and longing.

she was never at home on the shores. it was why she moved closer to the seaside once she'd reached the age to leave her family; it was why, prior to this, when the rumors flooded her ears and snuck into his in the process, she sought comfort in the gentle laps of waves at her doorstep.

as always, pearl is in tune with his presence, as he is in tune with hers.

"you have been quite busy," she says, a hand raising in a broad gesture to the underwater city.

samuel's head dips into a nod when he steps out from around the house he'd been observing from. it is best not to overwhelm the girl, whose life had already been upturned overnight. sympathy came easier now that he'd seen the blazes in her eyes. "atlantis," he says, his fingers closing around hers as he approaches. "come. let me show you the world."

and her hurt is still deeply embedded within her, but it is shaping and forging into something stronger. he sees it in the way her eyes glimmer with intrigue despite the harsh tilt of her chin, attempting to intimidate him. he is certain that pearl was the only human capable of bringing him to his knees.

pearl allows him to lead her along; small hand entwined with his larger one. it must be hard, he thinks; seeing the place you grew up in to be so empty and desolate, looking so out of place as it grows into something new. it does not help that the water is drawn back, making everything that is supposed to be beneath its depths exposed and wrong in appearance.

the recognition is immediate, when samuel leads her to the home that she spent her youth in. her fingers tighten around his, her other hand running along the rough exterior of coral that'd grown around the planks of wood.

she is silent. he is afraid, for a split second, and not for the first time, that she might cry, and that he has again made the wrong decision in an attempt to soothe the ache in her heart.

pearl's lips part, and he is not expecting the words that come out of them. "what happened to them?"

samuel's expression flattens.

he turns to the ruins and sees a future; she sees a past. he wishes that he could save her from the pain of those memories and let her start anew, and on her own time; but it is not his place to interfere again with what pearl needs or wants.

"they left," he answers finally on a slow exhale of a breath, "at the first signs of an impending tsunami." the light drains out of her eyes like the sun dipping behind the horizon, and he wishes that he had never answered. that he had sugarcoated the truth and spared her some of the heartache. "they did not seek out the girl on the coast. they abandoned her to the wrath they assumed that i felt."

she wipes at her watery eyes, the salt of her tears entwining with the sea salt on her cheeks. "did you? feel wrath?"

"i felt fury." samuel extends a hand to grasp her wrist between his fingers, pulling it away from her face, lifting it to kiss each of those tear stricken fingertips. "that they could isolate someone off of their own misconceptions. that they could choose to leave you."

pearl does not say anything else, but her eyes are locked onto his, and samuel knows that she is finally reading through the lines of what he'd done. drowned the home she'd grown up in, afraid and alone and to her own devices, and built something out of it, with the two things that she loved the most: water, and safety.

"how am i meant to live like this?" she asks, letting him hold her still, but turning on her heel to gesture toward the expanse of sea on either side of them. "i will drown, too. the sea will swallow me whole."

"nothing is capable of dousing the fire that stokes within you," he promises her, his mouth to her palm, "you are made of salt and the sea. it cannot take from you again."

like calls to like.

pearl has always felt at home by the seaside. the foundations of her childhood home were built nearest to the edge of grassland. her first steps were taken in sun-warmed sand. her first friends were the crabs tucked in the dunes beneath the soft surface.

the others of her village feared the coastline. the horizon stretched on endlessly, the waters constantly raged and inched up the shore more and more with every lap of waves. they blamed the god beneath the surface for its temperaments.

she blamed the superstitions of the townsfolk for the unrest beneath the sea. fear breeds anger; more contagious than any disease or ailment.

pearl had been talking to the god for longer than he'd been answering. perhaps it was her own fault, then, that the god reacted so violently to her pleas for understanding.

i am not like them, she'd said once, her head to the bedframe, her knees digging into the mottled wood of the cabin's floor, i do not understand myself to know why. they do not bother to ask.

she didn't know what god she was praying to, just that the one beneath the ocean's surface was closest to home, and pearl could only hope, then, that his answering calls were kind and just.

the next day, she'd awoke to the town flooded, the home abandoned, and her abode untouched.

water sloshed outside of her window. salt made the wooden walls sparkle beneath the sun ablaze. and she was all alone, except for the little creatures that slipped beneath her doorframe with the lapping waves to keep her company.

no, she did not understand, then, what had happened. did not even consider the fact that she'd called upon a god and his answer would come so swiftly. she did not drown with the town, but she drowned in her grief.

samuel, she'd called him, because even the most obscure of gods deserved to be named when they were being cursed, she figured. but samuel was not an obscure god, nor was he a kind one, typically. as much as she was an enigma to those who'd known her, he was an enigma amongst his kind, too.

solitude did not come easily after he'd shown her atlantis. as much as she tried to shut him out for even a day, a sunrise and sunfall at least, he did not leave her. by the end of the week, the mer were leaving gifts at her doorstep — invitations, really, to join him again in the parted seas.

it must have been part of his innate abilities; the way that pearl could dip her toes in the sands, and the water would give way to either side of her, curl around her like a wave about to crash, creating a tunnel into the depths of open water.

she should have feared drowning, after what the god had done. instead, she trusted him as strongly as all devoted do; with her heart, her soul, her fate.

the water stretched for miles, and yet each step, her tunnel of safety did not dissipate. on either side of her, mer pressed against the liquid barriers, the wall rippling as their hands pressed against it to capture her attention, to wave. his assessment was right, after all: the sea was always her home.

she did not know what she was being invited to, was not tuned in to the inner workings of the mer and the god who oversaw them. what pearl did know, though, was that even the sea creatures seemed to bow to her as she slipped into the domains of their home.

"you came," samuel says from the expansive arching entrance of his grandiose kingdom of coral, "i trust your journey was dry."

her smile comes so naturally that she could not believe this was a man that she'd once deemed the greatest monster of all. "much to the dismay of the mermaids watching me."

"they would never dare to flick a droplet onto our awaited guest."

our awaited guest. but there is no one else permitted into the space, then; no one that could be in the same space, what with the water warped into a protective entrance, and the mer without landlegs.

she opens her mouth to question him, but he shakes his head, offering a hand instead. "they are curious, so they will watch, until i tell them away," her hand curls into his, so much smaller in appearance to the god's, "it is not common to have a mortal in our ranks."

"is this your way of telling me that it will become common practice?"

pearl is capable of appreciating the beauty of his home while acknowledging that this is not it at its prime. its prime would be surrounded by blue, drowned in water like her village was. it would be bright and vibrant amongst the clear ocean. it would look like a home, and not a place meant for showing and telling.

but the violets and the pinks and the oranges are striking against the matching sunset backdrop, the seaweed curled around the towering structure's walls flapping with the salted gusts of wind.

she cannot peel her eyes away from each room. the space was open, separated by arches and half-walls of uneven coral, but each room was distinguishable from the others. there, his throne, sat tall on the middlemost floor, the tips of its back rising past the uppermost floor. here, a large open space with...

pearls. pearls everywhere. lining the half walls, making the floor of the kingdom glimmer in shades of cream and white.

"it is my way of offering my home to you," samuel finally answers, his hand still held loosely in hers, almost as if he were more nervous than she was. impossible. she'd never been one for being the center of attention, but here, it was like every pair of eyes on her was awestruck and not scrutinizing.

she turns to face him, something uncertain in her eyes. "i do not understand how that would work."

"the logistics are mine to worry about. if you want to take your place within my walls, it is yours. it has always been yours." sam takes her hand again, leading her past sconces of gemstone and mineral, past the glimmering aquamarine of his throne, and up.

his hand holding hers is what steadies her, or else she might have stumbled at the sudden lurch. they floated higher together, as if she'd been underwater and slowly loosing the breath in her lungs to stay on the ground, and now she was pulling back on it enough to float higher.

she does lose all sense of her breath at what, exactly, she'd been led to.

a bedspace, with a bed of pale blue pressed against the deep blue wall. the first solid wall in the space that she'd seen, and it glimmered like jewels, as deep as ultramarine.

"oh," she says softly, like all of the air in her lungs was whooshed away, and in its place was the water surrounding them.

somehow, she has brought the god to a stutter. "no. no, this is not..."

"oh," she echoes, and suddenly samuel is on his knees before her, her hand still clasped in his.

he squeezes once to get her attention. he is so tall that even knelt, he is merely eye level. "it is yours," he clarifies quickly, as if he could not get the words out fast enough, "if you choose to accept it. and even if you do not, it will remain untouched until the day you take up on the offer."

speech is a privilege. she cannot find an inkling of a thought in her arsenal of them. "oh." this time it elicits a wince from herself, wishing she had something more grateful, or appreciative, anything.

samuel's mouth quirks into an amused sort of smile, which only makes her feel worse about her reactions. "i choose to believe the lack of coherency is a good sign."

it was a good sign. how did she put into words that no one had thought of her, or what she wanted, ever before like this? that in this expanse of a kingdom with its open walls and the houses of her former village in its sandy courtyard, she has never felt so at home?

she does not say any of this. instead, she does something that surprises even herself, and she launches forward to grasp his face into her hands, and kisses him.

to kiss a god is to give oneself away entirely. an offering of its own sorts.

and when samuel picks her up and lays her on the plush of her mattress, she lets him take what she grants to him. again, and again, and again.

the ends of pearl's dress catch in the wind as she sprints down the sandy path she's come to know so dearly.

the seas part, and the water splashes into the sky. dolphins peek their snouts through the thinning barrier, the drippings of water making the sand soft beneath her feet. starfish and sea snails peek out from the safety of the wettened sand, come to watch their goddess return.

pearl is not of any magic, or any god's blood, but she has figured out the pieces of the coral walls and how to climb them. and climb she does, up and up until she's in her bedspace, where samuel is usually there, tidying the space. returning the water back to its natural state after she leaves is always a mess, he told her once, but i do not mind clearing the seahorses out of your blankets, so long as it gets you to come back to me.

but samuel is not there. she has never gotten to see the seahorse embedded in the warm seaweed blankets, but there are two there tucked into the strands, and now something feels wrong.

she listens intently, moments too late. she had time to turn around and leave if she'd not gotten so caught up in the joy curling around her heart.

"this is the pet, then," an unfamiliar male voice says from the surface level, and pearl wishes she could run the opposite way, and not have to face whoever else could brave the parted seas. no mer could, no sea creature could speak to her, and immediately, this is not someone that she feels that she should know.

samuel's voice is enraged. she knows the cadence of his anger, now. no matter the barriers were thinning today; he was fighting against his will to not send the ocean into a frenzy. "she is no pet."

"every human that slips through the cracks of our hearts is a pet, poseidon, and the quicker you learn that, the easier it is to detach."

his voice is deep, bored. from the corner of her singular wall, pearl peers around to find two sets of eyes already watching her.

samuel returns his attention to the man before him. slightly shorter in stature, dressed in dark, and expression ablaze. "you are only angry because persephone had to return to the ground. do not take it out on her."

"say her name again, brother, and i'll test how slowly i can make a mortal bleed dry." pearl's blood in mention runs ice cold. she wraps her arms around herself as if the sudden chill is one that can be rubbed away, and not one that is rooted within her. "come on out, beloved pearl. let me see the face of the woman who has stricken my brother."

it feels like a trap. perhaps it is. but there is no other way to go, with the drowning seas surrounding her, and the deeper levels of the kingdom hardly any security at all. so pearl descends from her room and makes her way between the men too big to be mortal, both wearing carefully placed masks over their feelings.

"pretty," the stranger says, reaching out to dust a thumb over pearl's eyelashes, "and you have certainly made your mark on her."

"that is unkind," pearl snaps back at him, jerking her face away from the light touch of his hand. "you must be mad, calling out for me like i am an animal, and making assessments of me as if i cannot understand you."

the man's mouth twitches. "i see." his eyes dance over to samuel's. "you have always liked dousing the fire out of women alike."

samuel's jaw ticking is the only indication that he heard his brother at all. "it is not a good time, pearl."

"it is!" the other claps his hands together, the look in his eyes brightening in a way that mimics a child with a toy. her, his chosen plaything. "tell me, how cruel does it feel, exactly, to know that your love is destined to wither and die?"

"do not listen to him." samuel grasps his brother's arm and tugs backwards. "he knows only death and destruction. he will see a weakness and latch if only to taste the bitterness of your hurt—"

"spreading lies about your bloodline does not lessen the blow of the truth."

samuel's voice drops. "leave her out of this, hades. out of your games."

hades.

it sends a shiver down pearl's spine, hearing that name uttered so freely. the townsfolk used to whisper of him after a passing of a loved one. used to wish their spirits any other fate than the one that came in the underworld.

he recognizes when pearl clicks the pieces together. and, as samuel said, he latches. "i could free you from those confines," he says slowly, his voice low and easing, "i could grant you the ability to be amongst your god as an equal. an offer i assume poseidon has not offered you."

hurt flashes over her face, and hades has her. hooked, lined, and sinking.

"i do not believe you."

it does not deter the god of the underworld.

"you have prayed for my brother to be banished, and now you plead his name that he never stops," hades' smile is cruel, teasing, unkind, "such a shift in tone does not go unnoticed to the gods that listen. i am not so cruel to deny a girl the fate she wants."

her heart hammers in her chest. he was not supposed to know what she wished. those pleas were for samuel, and him only. her want to be one of his people; to not only worship him, but to be alongside him, and to never have to perish and end up in the hands of his meaner brother.

"he does not know what you wish for, does he?"

samuel's eyes have never left pearl's expression. it is his turn for his eyes to flash with hurt. "what have you kept from me?"

it was not a willful or conscious choice. she prayed and pleaded, but there was no way to make a certain god listen.

"you would give that to me?" pearl asks, her voice small, hesitant.

hades reaches for her hand, and his deep green eyes blacken the moment their skin touches. "i would give you everything."

it is too late for poseidon to pull her free from his clutches. she does not remember at all, now, why she'd ever called him sam before.

the seas do not part again. her abode in the grasslands rots, sea-stained wood mottling and curling in on itself.

the town has drowned, and so has pearl.

he was angry, hades. an angry, bitter god is not one that should be taken up on an offering for a granted wish. but love is blinding and love is cruel. not that pearl knew, anymore, what that love had felt like.

she lives in the sea. the merfolk welcomed her; cleared her a space in the depths of the sea to rest in, a beautiful pink sea anemone just for her. the kingdom she'd began to call home was long gone; the city of atlantis long forgotten and lost.

the water is cruel and rough. when she sits atop one of the protruding rocks in the deep of the ocean, she is splashed with violent waves, salt curling her drying hair, hitting with enough force against the scaly tail in place of her legs that it almost feels like the water is trying to pull her back under. trying to pull her to something.

to feel at home, finally, is a love like no other she has felt. but even then, it does not feel like enough. pearl's heart has swelled tenfold, but there is still a chunk that feels missing.

and so she sits on that rock every night and sings, sings to beckon what she lost back to her, and the only thing it ever brings is lost, lovelorn sailors. they are never what she yearns for. mockeries of the empty hollow in her heart. drowning them is easy. the drowning sea has always been hungry.

every night, she sings, and poseidon listens from the other side of the ocean deep, sat in the soft blues of her bed. there are no gods for him to pray to for her return, for the curse of lost love placed upon his pearl by his petty, furious brother to be taken back.

but there is all of the time in the world with gods. and he had plenty at his disposal, to keep the sea creatures out of her bedspread, in case she finds her way back to him.

notes. this one has been in my drafts for ... i'm not even gonna say how long. it's had many ups & more downs. hope u all enjoy it regardless !!! literally a labor of love.

tags. @frosttbitessam @sthefferrete @cevansbaby-dove @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @bluestrd @ultravi0lence14 @mccartneyqp @depressionbarbie2023 @im-bili @chevroletdean @fallbhind @angelblqde @honeyryewhiskey @deansbite @lyarr24 @deanswidow @figthoughts @bluemerakis @fallbhind @beausling @t3l3vangelism @tristimith @whyyouegg @untltledforyourpleasure @ravenchoo @odetoficton @globetrotter28 @theosaurous @starzify @samslovely @aileenunfiltered @rubyvhs @soldiersgirl @fairychris @legalmente-loca @voidsuites @stereotypicalbarbie @arlensw1fe

[hiddensanctuarywrites]

Lawrence Oleander Mental Health Analysis/Headcanons

What is going on in this guy's head? He's quite the enigma but I think I have a few diagnoses that might help explain why he is the way he is. These mental disorders are comorbid, meaning they’re all linked together in some way.

Note: I am in no way qualified to actually diagnose anyone, but I have put a lot of research into this. If you disagree with anything that’s cool, these are just what makes the most sense for me.

This is a long one so everything will be under the cut.

Alexithymia: 

This is a secondary diagnosis, coming from autism in Lawrence’s case.  Having alexithymia means he has a hard time intuitively identifying his own emotions and the emotions of others. This is not to say he doesn’t Feel emotions, he does, and often quite intensely, but being able to figure them out enough to describe them or show them when it’s required socially is very difficult for him. It’s also quite difficult for him to self-regulate.

The more anxious or distraught he is, the harder it is for him to identify his feelings. He's pretty disconnected from his own needs and desires as well, so it’s unlikely he will know what he wants at any given moment. All of this is incredibly alienating for him and made worse when he’s pressured into trying to introspect or act accordingly to social cues. Trying to empathize with others is another thing he tends to struggle with due to this condition.

Lawrence doesn’t have a solid sense of self because it’s so hard for him to introspect. He finds it easier to live moment by moment and doesn’t really have aspirations for the future, other than wanting to get away from society as a whole.

Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD):

Multiple of his other conditions make him more prone to developing anxiety. This is an intense and pervasive fear, usually having to do with everyday situations. His fears are all centered around other people, or the living to be more specific. He learned as a kid that interacting with others is dangerous and often causes him to get hurt in the process. 

Social anxiety can be very debilitating. Often in social situations the biggest thing on his mind is this sense of panic and the intense desire to get away. It makes it difficult to concentrate on others and what they’re saying, much less how to contribute to a conversation. Even just thinking about talking to others makes him nervous, so it’s easiest for him to cope by trying to avoid people entirely. Seeing how many locks he has on his apartment door is a good indicator of just how pervasive his social anxiety is.

Other symptoms of anxiety include an increased heart rate, sweating, rapid breathing, trembling, nausea, feeling weak and difficulties sleeping. This can get even worse and turn into a meltdown or an anxiety attack if he doesn’t find ways to alleviate his symptoms or leave the situation entirely. His alexithymia makes it a lot harder to figure out any specific reason why he’s feeling anxious so even if he had someone to talk to about this, it’ll be difficult for him to explain what he’s going through.

Panic attacks are another thing he suffers with. They are different from anxiety attacks because they happen suddenly and without warning. Usually his symptoms are depersonalization, derealization, confusion, disorientation, rapid heartbeat, dizziness, numbness, stomach and chest pain. It can take quite a lot out of him when one happens and it takes a while to recover from it.

If he finds someone that he feels like he needs around, he will most certainly develop separation anxiety towards them. He hasn’t had anyone he’s felt close to in so long so it’ll be terrifying thinking about that person having the ability to leave him. This is why he decided to remove all of MC’s limbs in the Lawrence kept you ending. How willing he would be to talk this out and figure out a different way to lower his anxiety will depend on how someone has interacted with him before he develops this particular anxiety.

Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD-1):

Having this disorder is the underlying cause for pretty much all of his struggles in life and it’s heavily linked to all of his other conditions. While he is level 1 on the spectrum, it’s still very pervasive and made even harder to handle without any support or understanding.

When he was a kid, it was made very apparent to him that he was different from other people. Social interactions are filled with rules and social cues that everyone else around him innately understood, and when he didn’t know what to do or did the wrong things those same people would make him feel bad by chastising or ridiculing him. He’s since learned how to mask by imitating facial expressions, tolerating uncomfortable situations, concealing his special interests, and for the most part dressing appropriately.

Because of his long history of negative social interactions, he feels a great deal of anxiety when he’s forced to interact with others. He doesn’t really feel in control when talking to people unless he’s scripted out what to say ahead of time, and even then it’s pretty nerve-wracking for him. 

There's a lot of things that he's learned to avoid bringing up. Even though he still wants to be able to talk about these things, he often finds it easier and more comfortable to just not say anything at all. He will slowly stop filtering himself the more secure he feels around someone or will forget it altogether if he's hyperfixated on something enough.

Hyperfixation is an intense and prolonged focus on a specific interest or activity. The “moods” he gets into are actually him hyperfixating on something. Usually this is directed at his plants or when he's spending hours googling things on his laptop but as we can tell with MC, he can and will hyperfixate on people as well, or on specific parts of their body. This likely will happen more often towards anyone he's attracted to. Note that it is possible to get him out of this intense focus but if he's set on doing something it will be difficult to change his mind on it.

The things he tends to hyperfixate on usually have to do with a special interest of his. Special interests are long term passions, topics that fascinate the person and bring them joy and fulfillment. Lawrence has a few; plants, herbalism, anatomy, death/decomposition and the river. He knows a lot about each of these topics but has a hard time sharing this info with others. He'll often notice things that others don't when it's related to one of these interests and things that aren't related to them tend to bore him.

Lawrence has a unique way of viewing things. As his brain isn't neurotypical, it makes associations that others might not correlate. He does this a lot, regularly talking in metaphors. This also means that when he finds something funny it's hard for others to understand why he's amused. Conversely, he tends to struggle to get other people's jokes and might need them explained to him. He'll probably need a lot of interpersonal things in general explained to him.

Getting overwhelmed is something that happens to him fairly often but stimming can help him regulate and cope in these situations. It’s hard to decide in what ways he would stim but he likely enjoys listening to music on repeat. Gatobob has mentioned that slow trance and electronic mood music are his go to genres. He also likely paces and squeezes/plays with his hands for stimming.

When he’s unable to calm down or get away from a stressful situation he will react with a meltdown. Meltdowns are completely involuntary and he’s unable to control himself when going through one. For him, behaviors can include withdrawing, shutting down, agitated pacing, getting physically aggressive, yelling, running away, being unable to be reasoned with and having difficulty communicating. Meltdowns can be extremely exhausting for whoever goes through them but there are ways to help minimize the risk of them happening again.

Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD): 

This is a condition connected to autism that affects the way the brain processes sensory information. SPD is divided into three categories but I will be treating it as a whole for the sake of brevity.

In Lawrence’s case, he’s under-responsive to touch, taste and smell, and has oversensitive hearing. This is why he can down the hottest of hot sauces or everclear like it’s nothing, doesn’t get bothered by the smell of decomposition, doesn’t notice when his place or he himself smells weird. Being hyposensitive to touch gives him a high pain tolerance and means he isn’t bothered by temperatures that would normally be considered too hot or too cold by others. He likes to wear as little as possible because it makes it easier to actually feel his surroundings. He also seeks out things that are physically stimulating, i.e. touching things like dirt, hair, fur, bones, skin, going barefoot, ect.

When it comes to his hearing, he can get very easily overstimulated. He even monitors the volume of his own voice to avoid triggering himself. This is why he gets upset whenever someone is being loud or making too much noise. For him, too much noise can feel genuinely uncomfortable, and quickly leads to him feeling physically unwell and anxious. 

Things that are alive make so much noise, even just by existing, and that was even more overwhelming for him as a kid. This is why he became so fascinated when he came across roadkill as a child. Something so full of life was now bearable for him to be around. He could finally get close to an animal, something that was usually filled with noise and also ran away on sight, and didn’t feel overstimulated by it. He could see it up close and feel it. It was quiet. It was Safe. This same logic applies to his love for The River. It’s a place devoid of sounds so to him it’s like a sanctuary.

SPD also gives him issues with incorrectly processing sensory information, more specifically, body awareness and muscle sensation. Difficulties with intuitively feeling where his limbs are and what they’re doing makes him fairly clumsy, but more importantly, it takes conscious effort from him to accurately tell how much tension and force is required to interact with something. This leads to his actions often ending up a lot rougher and more aggressive than he means to, especially when he’s under stress. He’s hurt people by accident and he’s killed people by accident. This is why he got his tattoos, to try to disconnect himself from the many times he wasn’t able to control the strength behind his actions.

While he might not be fully aware of it, his job of carrying around heavy boxes is something that is a very grounding activity for people who struggle with body awareness. Working the muscles and pressure/compression are both needed to activate the proprioceptive system. I like to think that Lawrence likes to occasionally go out into nature and bury himself in dirt to get that sense of pressure he needs and would probably enjoy long tight hugs for that same reason.

I put a lot of time, mental energy and research into this post but I think this does a pretty thorough job at explaining the reasoning behind everything he does. Please like and/or share if you did like this!!

[muchanmocha]

Have you seen the standees set with all the pairs, each with one of them dead and it's called "Love-Hate"? I can get how it applies to Ivantill and Hyunaluka, but how does it apply to Mizisua?

Wild timing haha, you somehow managed to send this in right after I finished reading a great breakdown of it by @/crustyfloor this morning. Definitely check it out if you haven't already, I'm going to try not to reiterate what's already covered there.

In the Sua's Protection post I elaborated on the inherent selfishness of self-sacrifice:

Self-sacrifice doesn't need the other party's consent.

It doesn't ask for their opinion.

It doesn't give them the right to choose, because the choice is already made for them.

Conversations are about communicating, but even moreso, conversations in a relationship are about respecting each other's thoughts and opinions. It's a way for two (or more) people to touch base, know where each other are at, and find solutions together for the sake of each other and making the relationship work.

Conversations are an outreached hand, and when another person grasps that hand, communication is established.

Self-sacrifice means turning your back on the conversation and making the choice without regard for your partner, thereby placing your own feelings and decisions, your own will above someone else's.

Relationships aren't about any one singular person.

Sua's actions are for Mizi's sake yes, but by doing what she did, Sua essentially chose "Mizi" over "Mizi&Sua" and... while we can empathize with Sua's actions, I think it's also understandable for Mizi to be deeply hurt and resentful about that. In the end it was Sua who ripped "Mizi&Sua" away from her.

Someone might pose the question: "But can "Mizi&Sua" really exist in a world where one of them needs to die in a death match?"

Honestly I think yes, because "Mizi&Sua" will exist for as long as both of them are still invested in this relationship and its future — as long as both of them are putting in the effort of keeping this relationship alive regardless of whatever frightful things to come.

But what happened in Round 1 is that Sua gave the lie, the illusion of "Mizi&Sua" (in on this together) when in actuality she has long since chosen "Mizi" (and deleted herself from the equation of this relationship without Mizi ever knowing).

The moment Sua chose death, she gave up on "Mizi&Sua."

Now that we've established some of the logistics of MiziSua love-hate, let's take a closer look at the art itself, which seems to reflect a very nuanced manifestation of love-hate in Mizi.

Hate is often seen as a harsh, violent emotion. It's an aggressive feeling that you need to put energy into to fuel.

Yet this scene is almost... tranquil.

Mizi is very docile here, curled into herself like a small animal.

Her expression is numb. The type of numb you only reach after breaking down and crying for hours upon hours until you can't cry anymore.

We see none of the raw rage she showed in Round 5. There's no lashing out, no screaming and no ferocity in this scene.

This artwork shows that Mizi's hate is tender. It is subdued. It is a hurt that festers in her chest.

Mizi's hate is a quiet, vulnerable, "Why?"

In their post, @/crustyfloor describes Sua here as "simply hovering over her and watching in an eerie, enigmatic way" which imo captures it perfectly.

Sua is an eerie ghost now to Mizi, an enigma in death.

Round 1 shattered Mizi's perception of the world and as a result, of Sua and the bond they shared as well. But she has nowhere to go, reeling in all of her newfound questions, because Sua is now no longer with her.

Here, Mizi looks up at the one she loved, the one she still loves, in askance.

And her hate is one of questions that will never receive answers.

[clusterrune]

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archives

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[inactive blogs moved to new list] here(link)

if any blogs would like to be added or removed please let us know! same goes for any blogs you may have/know that arent on the list and you think should be added.

does not have to be a blog specifically for npd content but at least safe for those with npd.

i would also prefer to include blogs that are screen reader and dyslexic friendly. ie no non-sans serif fonts or coloured text and/or at least includes plane text. as well as blogs that are pro-(researched) selfdx.

[aspd, bpd and hpd bloglists coming soon]

id's in alt text.

[bandgie]

omg I loved ur stray kids what sub . I was wondering if you could do one for txt. im kinda curious to see what type of sub oc , beomgyu would like ??

beomgyu is an enigma tbh

but I think a sexual submissive and a playful masochist would suit his tastes. someone who he can fun with in bed, who likes to try new things even if they involve a little bit of pain. a sexual submissive finds pleasure in trying new things and beomgyu is always finding weird shit for between the sheets. a sexual submissive might be a little too submissive for him though, so the balance of a playful masochist who isn't scared to bite (literally and figuratively) is super hot to him

soobin

likes someone who can take the reins, so him wanting a submissive is something I can't really picture. however, a devoted sub really speaks to me only because of the emotion that comes with making love, and he likes to really get into the more empathic part of touching someone. it's a balance more so; you're good to him so he's good to you and vice versa. or a power bottom, he can have a lot of fun with that one but he would need unbelievable aftercare

yeonjun is also an enigma UGH

a switch honestly. he needs someone who's versatile because he's so versatile. one night he wants to bound your hands and keeps your thighs parted while finger fucking you until you squirt or he'll want to be blindfolded while you pour hot wax on him like this man needs it all tbh. but if we're strictly speaking sub, then a brat. likes it when you tease him throughout the day and put up a little fake fight before you submit to the pleasure

terry

my boy terry needs someone who likes to listen really good, so an obedient sub is up his alley. tbh he deserves the world so obviously he deserves the best sub too!! he praises you for being so good, makes you feel super comfortable and gets off on that fact. watching your pretty little face look up at him all doting and happy to do anything is just so ugghhh to him. lowkey maybe a devoted too but a submissive is so much more sluttier.

kai

kai needs me fr, jk (not really) but kai would prefer to be the sub if im being honest. like he's just so used to being the one doing the work and having people talk to him a certain way so to be introduced to a sub is so? weird for him? if you're a service sub tho...he's liking it for sure. like I said, since he does everything he would love the opportunity to have someone else doing it for him. you mean he can ask you to suck his nipples and you do? for as long as he wants? he can have you ride him? milk him dry? suck him off? sign him up OR a free-use sub I just knoooowww kai would go absolute ape shit for that. his shaky hands gripping your hips while you're doing your set of chores, still unsure even after all this time that you're okay with him using you. his careful eyes locking with yours when he turns you around, gently pulling your shorts down and- sorry bye

be honest, can you tell kai is my ult bias...

[lullabyalikpoptarot]

Roseanne Park (ROSÉ) Perspective Reading

Now time to get to the next Blackpink member I was pulled to do. I was today years old when I found out her real name is Roseanne lol I am interested to see her perspective on things, since I don't know much about her obviously, since I had no clue what her real name.

The song I got was Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield.

I am unwritten Can't read my mind, I'm undefined I'm just beginning The pen's in my hand, ending: unplanned

I guess this could indicate her being someone who a bit of an enigma is, someone who would rather not share things, but also someone you can't define or put in a box. But let's see what the cards can share.

I feel there is kind of a dark side or shadow side of her that wants to be released and expressed. Also, there could be some void inside of her as well. Maybe a need for her to reveal or release something. Now I see her having a strong creative energy or being very artistic. I see a strong inner child within her. Or a need to express that inner child. This card is just reminding me so much of the Empress card in tarot, never really felt that for a card. She just has this desire to create something and birth something from scratch, now is this a project, does she have desires to be a Mom, not sure. I feel this is more to do with artistic projects.

I feel this is something she was meant to do or wanted to do as a child. I am not sure it is about being an idol or doing something creative as an idol, or something outside of being an idol. I feel she could have been an artistic child. I see her having a strong creative force and imagination.

It seems she has goals for the future and lives for the future, she plans ahead and uses the present moment as fuel to change her course for the future. I don't see her dwelling on the past, or staying stuck in patterns. She is all about moving forward and taking the steps to get there. I see her having love for who she was in the past but is always working to evolve as a person. I hear, I take steps for a better future.

Now, to the parasite card. I say she can get drained by people around her, or people take from her a lot, or what she does can be draining for her. I sense there could be leeches around her. I can see this as her taking from others as well, consciously or unconsciously. She may be an empath. That can take on the emotions and feelings of others. But maybe others fuel her in a sense or inspire her a lot.

Now, she also got triumph of lies, and this card always gives me what she got or how she has got there isn't as it seems. That there are lies to how she came to the top or achieved what she did, what the lies are who knows. Or that the idol life isn't how it seems, or her image and life isn't. I hear painting with a brush. I looked up what that expression could mean, and I found painting with a broad brush, which means making generalizations, but not having the specifics and details, not sure what that could mean for this though.

So, I was pulled to my archetype cards to see if I can understand her personality more, since I am not that familiar with her. Now, with this child divine, she is a bright light, a warm presence to others, pure light in a sense, or likes to radiate love and light to others. Now, the first card I talked about makes sense. I feel with that card, it is not that she wants to show a shadow side, it is that she wants to release any negative energy from her and bring more lights and positive energy to her. Once again, this shows me a strong pure light inner child within her.

Now with this Monk/Nun card. She gives me that she is about self-growth. She could have a mindful approach to life. I see her wanting to do things for herself personally and not doing things to make money or care too much about fame. She is about connecting to her spirit and figuring out what truly fulfills her. It seems she has a fun, carefree energy to here. She has a spontaneous vibe to her. She can handle and juggle many things and balance things in life. I can see her doing multiple things in her career and having multiple goals. I feel she is very good at balancing things and not doing too much of anything.

I was wondering why I was pulled to my Dark Light deck, but now I see why, she had a lot to share with this one, lots of cards came out, but chose four. So, I am seeing this strong desire to create something, the cards says consuming art, create or die. Is she an artist, like a painter, does she want to pick that up? I feel she has a strong passion to create things. It was probably her goal as an idol to get to that point. I am not sure it is just music though. Is she into fashion? Seeing that too.

I see her wanting to have fun and play with ideas. I see her wanting to try new things or set trends. I see her wanting to do things that may scare her a bit, or things that are daring. I see her want to grow and flourish. To allow her creative projects to shine and grow. I just see her wanting to play with a lot of ideas and bouncing around ideas. She wants to bring joy and life to her life. She seems very vibrant and wants her colors to show. I see this one card and I just hear, I dare you, step into my world.

So, she got the House 10 card, she is all about achieving her goals and having things in set for her career and money. She seems very structured and stable. It is like she knows what she wants, and it looks like she will achieve that success. She is on a mission. Now, with this Venus card, she loves to give love and receive it. This is also creative energy to me, but I see her going after the things she loves and living a life wanting to do the things she loves. She seems like someone who sees the beauty in herself, others and the world and wants to express that through some form of art.

Now, we got to the Aquarius energy, not surprised she got this, being an Aquarius that she is, she likes to be original and try new things as I mentioned. She is someone who thinks outside the box and has her own way of doing things. Once again, I am getting setting trends with this card. I see her wanting to be a humanitarian and wanting to help others in need as well, maybe by donating and volunteering.

So, ending with Tarot, she has the 2 of wands, she seems like someone who likes working with others who inspire her and maybe have a similar vision of her and likes to create things together, maybe there is someone like that in her life now. She might like learning from others as well in a creative way. This 10 of wands and Scorpio energy threw me off, but she may have the tendency to overwork herself and exhaust herself, because of her strong drive and passion and I see a competitive drive in her. I do see her having a curiosity for the taboo and dark sides of things as well. Now, the last card is the knight of pentacles, she seems to move at a slow pace, take her time. She proceeds with caution. She doesn't rush about things. She is careful with her next steps, and she is the type to stay the course, if she has a goal in place. She finds a way to reach it slowly but surely. She is loyal and persistent in what she wants to do. I don't see her as the type to make rash decisions or do things on the fly without consideration.

Okay, I felt she was so fun and easy to do. She is a chatty one. She was one of my favorites to read for so far. I love here energy a lot. I feel like I want to look into her more now and see what is happening with her. This made me more of a fan of her. I wish her all the best in her pursuits.

[lrayasostripes]

Rayas at the RTV Tour, Calm before the Storm (the End?) (week 4)

Fourth week of the RTV Tour, hosted by @rtv-puzzlevision-studios

Directory:Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 3.5-ish, Part 4, Part 5 (END), Epilogue

Note 1: Once again, writing this in first person. Drawings now

Note 2: My main Oc is in the spectrum. But as the Tour goes, she might slowly try to interact a little bit. Especially when either trying to make social interaction. She eventually shows she's an empath. But also, do not overwhelm her.

Note 3: Interactions to the inserts are all Bg and not always direct for bigger actions. Interactions with Ocs and RTV characters more obvious.

Note 4: Even more lore drop, and 30% angst. Warning, Red and Blue Blood.

Final note: Same as previous posts. Rayas is a participant/visitor, and not the same for a future RTV version.

Story

Other Rayas POV

*Seeing the other hallway the Security group went going dark gave me the idea, they're going to have a Bad Time (heh, Sans reference); I keep "myself" as close as possible to me, fearing for their lives. But anyways, Chris has taken the lead to the Health Department; Swag opted to look after the back of the group. Swag walked closer to me, and I saw him quickly glance at me. I can imagine, that there's now two Mes, he's confused and weirded out. And I think, everyone is.

*"Y-yeah... two now, heh," I quietly chuckled nervously.

*I have to find out how "I" made a copy of "me." I just have to wait until "I" wake up.

*I looked on my other side, to those carrying RTV- Mr Puzzles. So far, the people who volunteered to carry him, are being careful (after a warning by Swag); they where the woman with the big blue eyes and brown hair who hit SMG4 and acted all out of her mind (Becky by @beckycat19 ), and the robot bunny guy (Bunnybot by @selfshippinglover ) (I'm curious talk to him, he seems nice)

*I then noticed that Nira ( @niranutcake ), the head of the Health Department, approach us. Looks like she's curious of the enigma, Real Me and I caused.

*(Yep, coining Real Me and Other me, to tell apart)

"Hi. Oh, um... So... I'm sorry, I didn't ask your name and didn't tell mine," nervously said Nira. "But I guess you've already caught that, haha. So... What's your name?" her tailed moves as if, embarrassed?

"*Well um... hi. I'm Rayas... well, a copy of sorts? I think Other Rayas is okay," I explained as best as I can, the nerves of the past events still on. "But here (looking down at the Real Rayas), still the real Rayas. Um, so... head of the Health Department?"

"Nice to meet you Rayas! And thank you for the help with Mr Puzzles. Oh, and... Heh, no, I'm not the one in charge there. Just a worker."

"*Oh, um... my bad," I felt a bit embarrassed, but thanks for the correction Nira. "Well, me, as in (looking down at Real Rayas), "me," I didn't want Mr Puzzles to wake up with a mess. I... I just did it. It felt like.... the right thing to do. And um... did you heard Real Me sing? The.... Human song? I... still don't know why Real Me sang it, it just came in." To be honest, Human by Rag n Bone is a good song. (And I think both us do)

"Oh yeah, I heard the tune. That's alright. I sometimes sing too when doing something. It helps me concentrate," answered Nira. Guess we both have in common? "So, how are you fairing?" she asked in a hushed, soft tone.

*A pause before speaking. I look down at the Real Me, in my arms.

"*Well, as of now... it's... strange, odd. I just opened my eyes, and I was under a cubicle, in the dark. The same place Real Me was helping make Harley, the youngest of the group, feel less scared." Another pause. "The other thing is... not sure but... l would like to find out... how I came to."

*Another small pause.

*Still... it's all an enigma. A missing puzzle piece.

"Hmm, I see... Well, I hope everything works out. For both of you." Nira smiles. End of the conversation.

*"You are welcome, Nira."

*While thinking absentmindedly, I couldn't help but listen to the conversation that Swag and Animsay where on; all thanks to my sensitive ears. And apparently... Hold on. Animsay's... glitching? What is going on?

*(But I still figured out she was trying to spell the Ai's name. Which is Wren. I think no one here knows... I know)

*...Guess I'll have to tell Real Me of the events that have and will fold. And I heard that SMG4 didn't came alone. Heh... Mickey of all people; and alive in this place's version. Like Real Me said, this place is different with it's own people... rules... (and story). And I'm just a visitor. (We are just visitors)

*Seeing how the entrance of the lobby was secured and blocked, I don't think it would've been wise to run for it. How I wished, and Real Me wished, that no one should have to be split in groups.

*At last... The Health Department.

*Guess this is where Mr Puzzles, and Real Me, will be staying. Passing the double doors, and into a round area with many patient rooms... and Some of the beds come in different sizes; largest and even the smallest. Wow! This place looks nice enough...

“Put the boss on there. Nira, get to work.”, Swag added as bluntly as usual, waving over to Chris. 

*I was snapped out of my zone-out when I heard Swag tell everyone to lay Mr Puzzles on the largest bed (wow). Then he turned to us, waving at all of the other rooms.

“Take a pick. Boss is first in line for medical treatment though,” said Swag.

*"Thanks Swag," I softly said. I look down at Real Me, as she seems to stir a little (please don't drop the plushie). "Alright, alright, let's find "me" a bed." And debating if one next to RT-Mr Puzzles or further away, but if Swag said to pick one and since Real Me is still out and not able to decide... (Oh no, it looks like "my" nose is about to bleed again) Next to the VIP I guess!! All the while, the participant with the pink and white hair ( @purplehairball ) sitting next to ours; looking into space.... strange. But alas..... Lucky for Real Me, it's Queen size for the two of us! Okay, now, slowly and... there you go Real Me. And luckily, there are tissues for that nose of "mine."

*I hear Nira walk to Mr Puzzles' room, possibly to check on him. I... couldn't help but, wanting to look. So I did (sorry Real Me) but left my umbrella and plushie on the bed, close to Real Me; I'm starting to notice Real Me is slowly waking up, so. What I could see, RT- Mr Puzzles has a burn on his neck; without his bowtie, it's more visible. And... it appears more... organic? (So he's not fully mechanical?)

"*Um... Nira?," I asked Nira, and was able to get her attention.

"Sure, what is it Rayas?," answered Nira.

"*Um... do you know where the blankets are? For, you know... Real Me?"

"Of course, there on that cabinet at the wall next to my Boss' bed. Left door."

Real Rayas ("me") POV

Hm...? Uh...? I'm... is this the Health Department? Hm... there's my umbrella and Puzzles plushie. The keychain and custom card is still where it is, phew. And... my drawing? Still where it is; and hope it stays there. The bed I'm at, feels comfy? Decent... I guess? Oh, and I still have the gloves on I was given. They feel nice. Looking around, there's curtains dividing the "rooms." And in front, a partially closed curtain as the "door."

Hrrg, I still feel tired... but less. My nose is bleeding, and thanks whoever brought the tissue. Well, what happened?

"H-hello,?" I called. And then again, slightly louder, even if strained.

As if like the statement of being a magnet to some... guess who answered?

"Hallo!" It's Animsay. "Oh, you're awake! How are you feeling Rayas number 1?"

"Um, fine...?," I answered confusedly and groggy. "Just, what do you mean number 1?"

Animsay turns around and let's in.... me? (I later hear Animsay go to tell Nira that I'm awake).

"*Um... found you a blanket, Real Me," meekly said the Other....Me? Okay...? So the mystery shadow back at the Social Media Department, was my clone/copy/double?

We both look at each other in confusion and astonishment. How...?

Nira then comes up to check on me, as I hear the sound of small feet. Oh, and Animsay I guess. Nira jumps up the bed. She sees my nose bleed and comes to use her powers to make it stop bleeding.

"How are you feeling Rayas?" Nira asked.

Not sure how, but it seems me and Other Me got the same idea for some humor.

"Okay-ish" *"Okay-ish" We answered. We slightly smiled at that.

*"To avoid confusion, call me Other Rayas," explained Other Me.

"Well," I continued. "I still feel a little sore. I think it was the stress for the... you know. I didn't think I would take it so badly."

Nira looks at me closely. And still confused. But why?

"Why... Is your blood changing colours? Are you alright? How are you feeling?," she asked

Oh... that. Well.

"My blood... it's just like that. Red inside, but then blue when outside... And... I know, it's strange. "

(blue is my favorite color, and I love stripes)

Nira nods. But... I feel like I should explain, about why I sang the song, Human. Truth is... I am human, and still am.

As strange as it is, but to just keep it short. The cog gear and split hair are natural; the latter is a indication of me born in the spectrum. Scarred eye a psychological manifestation of emotional injury. Took a while to recover confidence again after a time of incongruity. The fennec fox head was a gradual Wish to adapt better when things are changing too quickly. And then the second mouth to be more expressive.

"Hm, I see. Okay, but I'm glad you're feeling better. If something else is troubling you, you can tell." And Nira left to check on RT-Mr Puzzles. But then she stops, and turns back. She looks at Other Me, since she sees both of us as the same person(?). "Are you... both. In the spectrum?," she points at the blue puzzle piece tie clip on Other Me and me. "Just making sure."

"Yes"

*"Yes"

Nira nods and says with a soft smile, "If you need anything - just call me." She heads to check on Mr Puzzles.

"Alright," I answered back.

So... now it's just me and Other Me; Animsay left shortly. A short time seemed to take even longer. Other Me would peek around the corner from the curtain separating the one next to us; and jumped back once, because Animsay was there and appear to want to do the same. She accidentally gave Other Me a jumpscare. And Other Me's face went slightly pink in embarrassment, which I find it funny I laughed softly; and Animsay laughed as well from the other side of the "wall."

"Who are you looking?," I asked Other Me as I slowly finish laughing. She made a small smirk.

*"Well... while you where out," she drawled a little. "And Swag asked me which room to lay you... and since you were unresponsive... I chose the one... next to the VIP." She finishes with a smile that is mixed with shyness and false confidence...

.......

I listen to the noises of something getting fixed next to my room. She... she did not... I don't know what to say about it. Right next to R-Mr Puzzles?

(I hope that the curtain wall doesn't rip open and Mr Puzzles crashing at us with the "scary face" as soon as he wakes up. The big stunt SMG4 pulled really put everyone on a tight spot, and who knows how much He's going lose it)

But anyways... Other Me would peek around and walk around. At one point, spoke to Swag; clearing the issue of the duplicate phenomenon. Other Me told me that it then turned into a pleasant conversation about cars. Well... guess Swag isn't so obnoxious as he seemed (this Swag); and even gave Other Me a fist bump (Ha ha). Another point, Other Me came back with her vest missing, revealing the suspenders she and I have; she said as a token for helping me get better, she gifted it to Nira. At least we won't be mistaken who is who. And I'm glad she likes to receive gifts. Hearing all that has made my chest grow warm again. And one final look to Mr Puzzles' side, Other Me said that the participant who's name is Lucas (Lucas by @mylifeisfakeenjoy ), the one with just one arm, was fixing R-Mr Puzzles. And Nira, keeping watch.

(Hope no one minds the music Other Me chose to play from her ears, but will be somewhat audible; we both share this trait. Will loop only 10 times, and then it stops) (And song is based on the game I talked and requested to Tari to look up, Lenin the Lion)

We would lie on the bed, talking of the good things before the disaster (the mayor good things of the tour), looking at the gifts the SMG3 Gang gave me; the Pichu Bros keychain, and the custom Inscryption Deathcard. Play a little bit with my RTV Puzzles Plushie. Sometimes Animsay checking on us. And then we went to drawing. I drew what I believed would be new Puzzlevision Merch, such as a tie fleece blanket with the logo over print; both sides black and white with the logos swapped in those colors, and the ties being colors of the technicolor bar. It looks beautiful honestly, and so is Other Me; I keep it in my pocket where my drawing is. But then... I noticed something I missed. On my left arm, but very faintly, have peculiar markings. Then I pulled the custom Deathcard out and... it matches! But one of the sigils...

"Um... Other Me,?" I muttered, and Other Me approaches. "I... I think I know how you came."

*"Hm?," she answers confused and leans to have a look. Her eyes widen in surprise since it look like, she knew (and I) exactly what the new sigil replaced the Amorphous sigil, the one with a ? mark. It has a pair of mice inside a square."T-the... it's the Fecundity sigil... the one where..." Other Me then looks at me. I was smiling in astonishment.

"I didn't think it would work," I said. "I was praying it would and wouldn't. And it didn't tasted that much." I chuckled lightly.

Back in the Social Media Department, when I told Harley to close her eyes while we were under my umbrella, I ate the Deathcard duplicate as I was making a Wish; mostly meant for career paths, but for me, as adaptation/transformation. Wonder if the (Wren) AI was able to see that, but I doubt it, since the umbrella covered enough vision.

Other Me looks at her arm and... same thing! But the Amorphous sigil remains unchanged. Maybe only works on the original, me?

I was growing sleepy now, then look down at the Deathcard and the marks on my arm. To be honest, I don't like the Sharp Quills sigil; it only goes off if I'm attacked. I feel that I might hurt someone without meaning to. Hm... maybe I can change it to a different one? Can Other Me do the same? (Still wondering who called me an amoeba, Other Me filled me on that)

..........

Well, deed is done... somehow. Armored/Nano Armor sigil for me, and Airborne sigil for Other Me (We sort of expected to see some wings come out, but oh well. And her Amorphous sigil has not changed still, but neither of us wanted to touch it). For some reason, Other Me gave me a fourth and final sigil, Airborne; don't know why, but she said she had a feeling (and... no wings showing up). I kept the first Deathcard intact as it is. Well... out of boredom, decided to play more card magic with making more copies; and for some reason, Other Me decided to as well and accidentally made Technology card versions of my first card (how?). A yawn... and I think it is time to go night night for me; Other Me is thinking the same thing. I put away the Beast cards in my pockets, and Other Me puts her Technology cards away in her own pocket; we both have the two types mixed up actually. She also found some earplugs from the small drawer, that will be enough to sleep through the noise next room. I move further to give Other Me some space, put the umbrella and Puzzles plushie between us. One last look at the new and Puzzlevision drawing... back to its hiding place. And glance at the gloves I was given. I'm indeed keeping them. Oh... just noticed that Other Me also has gloves. But where did she found them?

Wonder what we'll wake up to... And hope no one from the Security group got too hurt... or... worse...

(Hm... maybe if I... make another? Just in... case?)

Other Rayas POV

(Muffled DAMN IT!)

*Hm...? how long has it... wait... um... I'm still sleepy. How's Real Me? Still sleeping as peaceful as possible. I'm half asleep... or am I dreaming? Even with the earplugs on, I thought I heard something.... crash? And... something else... (my eyes were too heavy to keep open, blinking)

"...gave you a CHOICE.... You think this is all just a fun little EVENT... won’t be consequences for your choices?..... now, you all will have to PAY for..."

*..... I slowly loosen an ear plug as awareness sets in. I look back at the closed curtain. And sure enough, the voice I heard before, was RT-Mr. Puzzles. He's awake... and... Very. Angry...

*(What did I and Real Me missed? But thank goodness we didn't woke up him crashing into our room)

“I offer you a SINCERE apology, but I need to send a message to the people BEHIND you," I already know what he means by that (even a copy myself). "Consider this some kind of vengeance for yourself as well because I’m sure they did not vote in your best interest either.”

*Whatever happened, or if bad news came from the Security area reached him, it looks like he's finally lost it. The lights of the Health Department appeared to have dimmed drastically, and an ominous glow. That can mean one thing...

“Nobody here is leaving. Not before we made some things CLEAR. So, step on through.”

*Does he mean... And everyone else... Everyone... Sigh

*Oh how I and Real Me wished, never came to the tour to get the drawing back, and just leave it here where it will be ignored anyways. Besides, since we both share everything, I know coming here in this place and meeting Mr Puzzles... RTV... was too risky. But since Real Me is still asleep, I'm aware (and she as well), the fact the room... has four walls...

*(What part will we play?)

*Hearing noises, and the hostile tone of RTV speaking,

*If this was a dream, then none of this was real... But what if it isn't?

*Looking at the duplicate cards... one last time.

*It... It has to be a dream... It has to...

*I hear the curtain rustling... I pretend to be asleep, or try to wake up...

*I hear small pitter patter, I look up, and Nira comes in, with worry in her eyes as she gently rubs my arm, and giving us a knowing look, bedtime is over.

*She slowly moves the curtain wide open.

..........

"...There's... two?"

*Welp, surprise...

Rayas (Real) POV

*"Hey Me... wake up...," I heard Other Me's voice in a hush as I steer awake. Also, I feel a lot better. I remove the earplugs.

When I fully open my eyes, I noticed she has an expression of concern. What did I missed? And why is the room darker... all except...

"O-Other?," I was confused as Other Me passed me my umbrella and Puzzles plushie, and for some reason chose to carry me in bridal style. I don't mind it, but I feel just as comfortable when holding my stuff close to me. But I think I got an idea what is going on based on her expression. And slowly looking across, a TV, and people going in it...

The TV Dimension...

And just as my gaze slowly was about to turn to the familiar tall-

*"Please...," interrupted Other Me, and I look at her. "We'll cross the bridge..." She said softly and lightly smiling in reassurance. So I look down at my things, my plushie and umbrella; I hug them.

As if I was feeling time slow down (and maybe Other Me is feeling it as well), and getting close to a TV screen in the Health Department, I begin to reflect on before the tour.

("Insert Mouthwashing OSt-Main Theme") (for dramatic purposes- Author)

That drawing, would normally take three days, and yet I get distracted easily. When I heard there's more than one Mr Puzzles, and versions on an annual Art Fight that happened a year ago... I had to draw it. There were just a few. When mass attacks meant drawing more than one, I had to find any Mr Puzzles out there. Other than the one participant with the orange and sky blue uniform, Astro, and his Puzzles ( @astro-vision-au , @the-masked-astro ), I wanted to include RTV, and place him in the middle of the picture, since he's got his 5 stars. It was my best and ambitious project back then; the comments left on it, positive. When I think back, looking at all the different Puzzles, I wonder what would it be if there was a large hub of Mr Puzzles of any AU and version, and RTV being the One; a universe full of them even. Could there be a caste system? Currency? Variety shows? I asked this question before... But I think it won't be the case... What if no one doesn't get along due to different views? When the drawing flew, and realized where it went, and after hearing how this world works and its story, I got very worried. The fear of rejection, maybe? And if I didn't go, will I still get it rejected if found? When the Tour was announced, I felt it was the best time to get it back. I crafted my uniform (the official never came due to my address being too abstract) in a way it showed that I'm a participant, but also adding my taste with the color blue and stripes (I love stripes), and blue jigsaw puzzle piece tie clip; and added the 'Visitor' arm band, because that way it shows what it means... I'm just a visitor.

When I first arrived at the Tour, there were so many people. Some that I know but never brave enough to talk to, and others who where very new to me. Being in the spectrum, so many faces are enough to overwhelm me, and including if someone wants to talk to me. As much as I want to talk... I don't have much of it. Yet, I'm slow to warm up. I thought the Tour was going to be where I'll be forced to interact with these new people. And as for my drawing that has been flying around, testing my patience into breaking from the tour's rules and getting in trouble. But as it went... and sacrificing the opportunities for social interaction, it all turned out well. My drawing returned to me the last few times without issues, as a sign I'm doing well. The first person to start interacting was one of the few TV heads in the group, as a practice if I were to speak to RTV. Then getting a compliment and reassurance from Colores, the head of the Art Department; and thanks for the plushie (still may want do the Puzzles Plushie Quest, ha ha). Briefly interacted with the shy ghost person (Loyboo by @alelathedragon ) by using the Shy Boo gesture to make him less nervous. Lucian returning my drawing whether if it was Colores who saw it first; still don't know, but I thank both siblings. Meeting the SMG3 Gang and each meeting me in different ways such as talking to Meggy of my experience, watched and given the honors by Boopkins to watch my favorite Pokemon short, played Inscryption with Tari and Animsay and giving Tari a request to play Lenin the Lion, made matcha latte for the Gang; but the one that I think got the most of it was SMG3. He enjoyed Pokemon and found his favorite Pokemon, I made him laugh with my sudden Pomeranian sneeze in a Smash Bros game in the game room, enjoyed my matcha latte; for the latter moment, I helped Grinnames ( @grinnames ) clear a misunderstanding so her dish can be noticed by SMG3 (and ended becoming friends. Also her dish was very good).

(And also cleaning up the kitchen utensils before leaving to the Social Media Department)

The list goes on... Secretly gave some matcha latte to the silhouette girl with the heart eye ( @runrabitrunrunrun ), which she kept it, despite spilling all of it in the chaos. Helped Harley ( @entityarts ) feel safe when the chaos happened at the Social Media Department, and less self-conscious of her antennas. Voluntarily cleaned RTV's wardrobe while he was down. My clone possibly talked to Nira ( @niranutcake ) on the way to the Health Department, and getting along... Heh, even talk about cars with Swag in the same department.

And back in the game room, I was able to talk to RTV in person. And when I got sick by the stress and went unconscious, I was resting next to him in the Health Department; albeit it was Other Me who chose, not me, but alas... (But us coming out of the room next to him, did he noticed the close placement?)

As I looked around the studios, I was thinking what could be changed. The stairs in the lobby, much squarer and with walled black and white risers, and maybe some stars on it; taking more space but at least much safer. The courtyard between the main studios and castle SMG3, planting a variety of flowers; but mainly white roses, and its petals flying in the breeze.

Sigh, those where good memories... I have enjoyed the tour.

(A cable cord tail?... is that what my Wish granted? But for what purpose? And does Other Me has it as well? And has RTV noticed this? The least I want is bring attention to me, and her I guess.)

The TV Screen is now in front of us. And Other Me not wanting to even show a sign of hesitation to upset RTV, indicates me to touch it; Nira will follow after. I place my hand in the warping screen as I keep my stuff tightly to me, and a bright light flashed as the feel of getting pulled happens.

(End of Mouthwashing theme)

In The TV Dimension...

Both POV's going on both Rayas

It's just like in canon or anything close.... floating TVs all around, static colors blue, green, magenta... We are floating... Oh, everyone is here! Even SMG4. And... Ow! Not everyone wanted to go in willingly. As we approach the group, I see those from the Health Department group and... the Security Department group... (And ignoring something brush against my new cord tail)

The latter group... they don't look too good. They look all roughed up, and... mournful. Did... did something went very wrong?

(Same for the Health group. Because I think me and Other Me slept through and missed something that made all of that group have expressions of hopelessness, especially Loyboo)

(... Animsay...)

Among the Security group, Grinnames and Harley (where's her plushie?) have to be the ones affected the most on what we can infer. Seeing them like that is almost making me reflexively tear up. I look at Other Me...

*("At Least you didn't glanced at RTVs' face while I was getting you up...")

"What,?" I quietly said, and wiping a tear. Other Me didn't opened her mouth even!

Wait... why did that sounded like... in my head? (and... RTV was making that one they call the "scary face." ...thanks for the warning earlier? The canon scary face, or a unique one from this Puzzles?)

("Other Me? How?")

*(Look at the new tails")

I raised my new cord tail, and it was attached to... Other Me's new cord tail; both blue and white striped with the connection part being a dark blue, though Other Me has one white double-stripe near the end. I don't know what to think of it, honestly. But does that mean when we connect, we can talk psychically?

*("I think your Wish might do. But... let's just refer ourselves as just "Me" when speaking out loud")

Other Me realizes there's no need to carry me now that I'm feeling better; I'm floating. What a weird moment; and an odd request.

"Animsay?," I called out to her.

But when she turned and looked at me, she appears confused at me. And no longer appeared her usual happy-go-lucky self. Almost as if.... she doesn't recognize me...

Wait, recalling the "incidents," and present in the TV Dimension... She changed as soon as she's here!

("Where... where did you go?")

But that was interrupted when the familiar voice of RTV (will still call him Mr Puzzles out of politeness/respect, even after what he'll do to us), boomed across the TV Dimension.

"Why Hello my not-so-dear tour participants," said for a moment of a sneer before going to a tone of false calmness. "Glad to see you all here! Whether you came through willingly... and some," his voice lowers. "Who needed a push... to come through."

A larger TV shows up right in front of the group, but facing backwards. And what looks like the iconic cape/coat materializes slowly as the sound of something extending out; and it ends when the feet are shown below the coat. Me and Other me didn't need to look around the group, but we knew, everyone was angry, scared, confused. Finally... RTV turns around. Now he's a giant to all of us. Half of his face is glitched and black; will he look like this forever?

Also, we have not forgotten, that in the TV Dimension: his head... his rules.

He shrinks down to normal size.

"Now, as I said, Nobody here is leaving. Not before we made some things CLEAR. Some of you chose to side with SMG4, complicated everything! And guess what happened. One tour-" RTV stops for a moment as we all hear crying and sniffing.

I look at Grinnames as she's crying and... very sadly pulling out a cookie in the shape of the smiling participant with the glasses (Micheal by @michaelscorneroftheinternet ) who's close to their friends the fish girl (Sci by @scimagic ) and robot rabbit (Bunny bot by @selfshippinglover )? Wait... after seeing the cookie. Now that I look amongst the group, he's missing... does that mean... he...

("He's gone Other Me...")

*("I see that, Real Me... I see that. Though, is Grinnames memeing?")

("An improvised coping mechanism?")

*("Yeah. RTV's reaction though...") Other Me snickers quietly, in our secret convo of course.

I glanced on the corner of my eye, and sure enough. RTV is making an expression that read, "...What?"

*("Bruh")

(Is Other Me memeing as well? Hope not too often with the critical situation we are now)

That... that explains why the Security group where the most emotionally hurt than the Health group me and Other Me were.

And then, after finishing eating the cookie of the late participant with the smile and glasses, she looks up at RTV; very angry, with a demonic glint in her red swirl eyes. All of a sudden, she flies right at RTV.

"N-no...!" I quietly exclaimed.

SMASH! Grinnames just punched RTV right in the screen! He flinches back... Barely.

"YOUR GODBOX-FORSAKEN AI KILLED MY FRIEND, YOU A**HOLE!" (language, Harley's here) loudly yelled Grinnames.

RTV turns back and looks at her, a clear expression of annoyance before changing to calm fury. He then grabs her by the neck!

“Your friend killed HIMSELF by putting his nose in things that don’t concern him.”

"You Bastard-! YOU TAKE THAT BACK-"

And then RTV just flings Grinnames, very far away!

("I can't believe he did that!")

*("Nor the fact Grinnames did that as well. She was over it!")

"Anyone else?" asked RTV in a tone as if tempting anyone to challenge him.

Of course, RTV, a different Mr Puzzles... is different from the others. But seeing Grinnames so hurt as she slowly comes back to the group, still fuming, and noticing how much that other late participant meant to her, I think we should calm her down.

*("I'll do the same Real Me, she not only needs your comfort, but mine as well; and soon, maybe everyone as well if we can. But lets unplug our tails; cannot stay connected. And again, let's just refer ourselves as 'Me' when not connected. Sorry...")

So that connection is unplugged... for now.

Once Grinnames returns to the group, still upset and making a demonic looking face, she probably wished it would set anything on fire. Me and Other Me slowly approach her, and I give my plush to Other Me to hold on while I open my umbrella and set it over her head; if it made Harley feel better, then it should do the same thing.

"...Grinnames?" I softly called her.

Grinnames notices me. I slowly open my umbrella.

"A-ah Rayas, I'm sorry, you shouldn't have to see me like this-"

She notices the open the umbrella, over her head, and then looks at Me and Other Me. Her snarl softens to a saddened expression, and finally lets out the sorrow she's been holding up.

"...Rayas... thanks," softly said Grinnames as she tears up. We both lean under the umbrella.

I hear a brief scuffle before soft sobs, and I turn to see Other Me keeping Harley close to her (oh, and my RTV Puzzles Plushie floating next to my head). It looks like Harley is so worked up, she seemed to want to go after RTV; she's small but fierce, but very fragile still. So glad Other Me came to, because this would make multitasking easier; and don't want to see the youngest of the tour group getting launched like Grinnames did. But...

Without prompting, Other Me and Harley slowly float towards me and Grinnames. Seeing the umbrella too small, and concentrating without breaking it, a second umbrella is produced; Other Me grabs it, now hers. The four of us huddle, and cry softly. (wonder if everyones' eyes are on us) (Also, I almost never cry)

"🎵I know the Wind will Blow/Spend whatever Time, the Wind will Blow..🎵" Me and Other Me sing softly, in sync. "🎵In My story, I wrote My lines/In my story, I wrote My lines ..."

I'm starting to think and doubt, anyone would not return home anytime now. Everyone would all want to do what I would after the tour ends on a good note. Bring their souvenirs home, go eat something, and sleep on their own warm beds; all happy.

(I'm thinking if to invite Grinnames and a few others to crash at my home before they can go to their respective homes, if there's a chance to escape; besides, the kids back at home will serve as a distraction to the whole ordeal)

But... when...? Now what?

(AUTHOR'S NOTE: I helped with this part. WARNING: someone dies...)

"Tsk Tsk, Now?," spoke RTV, before clearing his throat. I move my umbrella and close it; Other Me does the same. "As I was SAYING, because of the fault of some of you supporting SMG4, everyone will Pay. And I'll repeat, because of his intrusion, One tour participant less in the group from the original 57... Although...," RTV slowly comes closer as he grows into a giant, and looking right at me and Other Me (his face is overwhelming, I slightly look elsewhere such as his bandaged neck, his bowtie still missing); and mixed expression of confusion, amusement, and another that I don't know the word for it. "Not sure what I missed while I was out, but I suppose that covers the 57th participant. Must've overlooked, but oh well."

Hearing that makes me feel ashamed and shocked, even if I'm barely showing it (possibly to not show it. And maybe making the exact expression canon SMG4 did back in PV movie when IGBP was mentioned to him, and how good he played "the bad guy"). Other Me is now taking place of the perished participant with the smile and glasses; a big shocker. I'm pretty sure, this isn't what we wanted. I hug my Puzzles Plushie and umbrella close. (why do I still have the plushie of RTV? Well, Colores gave it to me. And thinking of my Puzzles Plush quest)

(Yep... totally different Mr Puzzles)

"Curious...?," RTV spoke as if more confused. He gets much closer, and his face changes to Me and Other Me currently, and then zooms on our new tails floating. "Hold on there. Did you had a tail before?" addressed at us; but realizing it sounded in singular, it was directly at me.

Uh oh, it looks like I'm getting unwanted attention; and maybe Other Me indirectly as well. (At least our tails are not connected for him to see and slowly piece together)

RTV floats a few yards away, turns his back away, and mumbling under his breath; and even with our sensitive ears, couldn't pick up much other than quote, "...kept an Eye," "What is...," "never noticed...," and "...to know."

I feel a connection again. For some reason, it feels like time slowed down. Very, VERY, slowly.

*("Real Me, I have a feeling... I should step up. You need to get back home, and you got your drawing back; and those cute souvenirs, keep them. Those sigils you absorbed should be enough for an opportunity to slip and go. And if you can, bring some of the people home.")

("But... your sigils weren't active. Especially the one where...")

*("I know, but I got the other umbrella. Could work as an Unkillable shield; nothing from home can be destroyed while on someone else's home's turf. And, that's why I gave you the Airborne sigil")

("But then why we didn't sprouted wings... yet?")

*("...Don't know... maybe for the right time I suppose.... I'll perform a Desti if it all goes down.")

("You... did not say that!")

She did not say that...! (And, is she a lot braver than me? Because I would, but don't want to end up seriously hurt... or worse) No way! What if this traumatizes everyone, especially Harley and Grinnames, and those in the Security Group; they took the full poison of the conflict enough. I don't want another Anime Arc 2.0 (Electric Boogaloo, dear lord...adding that part sounded very bad)

*("Listen, I would have gone to the Security group and leave you to be cared for at the Health Department, but since I just came to exist, the first thing I did was protect you. But... I won't perform a Desti Real Me.")

I see her soften her look.

*("But only as an alternative tactic. And if you don't agree with what I have planned, I will stay with you")

Other Me looks around the group.

*("Maybe we could just protect everyone if we can, but not fight against RTV; remember, you and to some extent me, we're just visitors and not fighters. The least we want is him hating us... and 'Her.' You and I have been behaving so well through the tour. And before I came, you made new friends, and made the SMG3 Gang a lot chipper; and received gifts from them.")

("Hm...Like... serving as a distraction? Well, that could work; and at the same time find a way out. And... what about the TVs?")

To be honest, I think we both got the same thought. If we have the cord tails, maybe we could briefly hijack one? And then quickly hop to the next one without being seen... Problem is... how quickly can we move? And what to do with a hijacked TV?

(...Animsay...)

*("Well, Tari would do something about it. But the version of Tari here doesn't have Clench anymore... Maybe we can be "Tari.")

("Not bad... But... Have you checked your sigils if the Amorphous one changed?")

..........

*("Actually... yes. Fledgling? Sort of expecting Burrower and or Trinket Bearer; the former, I can use the umbrella to protect myself and the other participants anyways. Am I going to turn into a werewolf or?")

Her sigils are active now! That means the Unkillable sigil would make her play opossum! And performing a 'Desti' is just a metaphor.

(And maybe make a Megamind reference, for the lulz)

("I... I don't know. But we'll find out. If anything... you can match up to RTV. At least, holding him off than fighting him directly.")

*("That's the spirit, Real Me! You and I are full of Infinite Creativity.")

More like Creative Infinity, lol (A contrast to Creative Control). Hm... I wonder... is there a Creative Infinity?

("So... a lot of stuff to do heh? And performing a Desti is... the last resort?")

*("If it comes to... just... cry out either 'Me,' or to make things more dramatic, 'Real Me.' I don't think anyone would remember which one is the copy, since the curtain back in the Health Department was closed all the time. And then you would deliver some sort of speech of how 'Real Me,' me taking your identity, was the only person who would have said they enjoyed the whole tour, how she made friends, enjoyed all of the heads of the department, especially the SMG3 how she made them all happy, and possibly forgive RTV if it came to. And now that is gone.")

("But we don't know yet, Other Me. As I have been saying through out the tour as I was searching up my drawing...")

...

*("We'll cross that bridge when we reach to the other side.")

("We'll cross that bridge when we reach to the other side.")

Well... we disconnect out tails. So, back to the present. I'm thinking that, if I cannot show my drawing to RTV and risk him making me rip it apart (in the final moments)... looking at the blonde participant with the orange and sky blue uniform, Astro, maybe I can show it to them (but that is if they live to tell the tale). And if my home isn't possible to escape with a few people (the canvas door only opens when I'm close and thinking of going home, and currently well hidden unless called), maybe they could let us crash into their home?

(I'm curious to meet the other Puzzles there. And would Other Me want to as well?)

RTV stops mumbling and turns back around. And time moves back to normal. Now focused on all of us; slightly getting closer. And also mainly on SMG4 and Animsay now. I didn't want to look at his screen honestly, because I don't know how I would handle a hostile expression, it could be too much for me.

The rest of the story... well...

(Insert Kirby 64 Ost- Vs 02) Dramatic purposes

Fractions of the tour group (should I keep referring as a tour?) has decided to fight back, specifically the Security group. Not much for the Health group, but only if they chose to join in the fight. A lot of chaos. Everyone just wants go back home and escape the TV Dimension; we saw a few hide in some of the TVs, but we know they can't stay (I've been secretly wondering if to go into one of them). Being in the Health group, along with Other Me... as much as we didn't want to fight... But we could support and help the others to return safely. We were able to activate our Airborne sigils, and grew our wings while no one was watching; and we realizes we can also put them back. We thought of very quickly/swiftly dive down and use our umbrellas to block the blows; very quickly so RTV doesn't see what was protecting the fighters (we got thanked for it. Appreciated); and taking turns or going at the same time. The very bottom of the TV Dimension was dark enough to hide ourselves; and sometimes take cover behind Marie ( @fenicearts420 ) the dragon shifter. But while hidden in the abyss, Other Me decided to add herself the Burrower sigil herself without me realizing it. (paranoid much, or cares too much for everyone?). Explained why she suddenly would dart to cover too quickly in the blink of an eye. Not sure if that was stupid and risky, or helpful; but sometimes we couldn't react fast enough.

Now... the other thing? Seeing if our cord tails would hijack any of the TVs for a short time. After some experimenting and discovering our tails can actually extend longer as it can and change its plug and prongs for adaptability (and other tools as well), it is time to test it out. Hoping from one to the next, surely, we put something else in the TVs but just briefly. Mostly to draw RTV's attention away; when that happens, we quickly dive down in the abyss. But also, hijack them to scan what's in them and who is in there (and which TV, channel 999, is the way out). And see if we could find something for an advantage for an escape plan. The Magic School bus? The vehicle can do almost a little bit of everything ranging to flying, shrinking... the like. Though it cannot carry as much people as it can. The cars in Fast & Furious and the famous Nitrus Oxide Boost? For a last second speed boost getaway; but we'll need too many for all 57 participants, unless some... numbers go down... (I don't want to think about it)

It was all going decently, with the light-speed shielding, short-timed hijacking. But... we goofed it! Well, I goofed it yet wished Other Me would be the one to blow our cover; I have a feeling she's a little more independent. How...? I just barely connected my cord tail when, I spontaneously sneezed like a Pomeranian; and that not only displayed on the current TV, but across the other TVs for everyone and RTV to see.

....Oops..

(Just hope few laughed at that. Or at least, remember that)

(RTV will remember that...)

"YOU TWO!," RTV shows up all of a sudden, just right next to us, as a giant. We try to look elsewhere in case he's flashing the "scary face;" the one with the realistic darting eyes and mouth. "Never quite put much attention... but now it is. YOu two peaked at my curiosity." RTV's hand opens up and scoops Me and Other Me, holding on to us like dolls. WE keep our things close; my plushie and umbrella, and her own umbrella.

(end of Vs. 02)

Some of the crowd don't know what to do, but I'm sure the ones I befriended didn't liked that at all. All me and Other Me can do is watch helplessly; again, I'm just a visitor. (A visitor that isn't meant to play a part, is forced into it)

We didn't want to see his face, but... we also don't want to be rude by ignoring him; no choice but to possibly see the "scary face." RTV's scary face to be exact. If anything, me and Other Me would try to visualize a scary but not-so-much scary... like, canon Mr Puzzles' "Scary face" (or that of an angry wolf, scary to look intimidating) Have slowly grown used to it (except the red one).

Looking up at RTV's face... he doesn't seem ready to flash us a scary look... yet- For a second there! Other Me is trying to get away, but because her Burrower sigil is acting up with everyone dodging the blows from the RTV clones; but shortly stops, guess she touched it a second time for time out (why am I hearing a ticking sound?)

While everyone is busy or caught by the clones, RTV Moves away from the busy crowd. Ho boy....

"Curious... Never thought to find some interesting people, I should have kept a close eye on," his large hand seemed to tense a little. "Hiding your talents, fox-thing...Robo-fox-girl...? Doesn't matter what you are. And no need to say your name, my dear... um... dears?," he lightly huffs. Clearly trying to understand what me and Other Me are. (the ticking noise continues) "Here... My head. My rules." RTV gestures his head and the area around.

The only thing I could do is nod in approval. He's right. Other Me follows.

"EXACTLY, Here, I can do everything as I see fit. You saw all that for sure, yes?" I nod at that. Well... the grip is slightly getting tight, but not too tight it's unbearable. But my responses where positive, even. "Though... only... I can do everything..." his voice lowers a little.

He turns around the chaos.

"ENOUGH!!!," He loudly shouts (ouch my ears!), and everyone stops and or restrained by the clones. Just managed to loosen an arm.

Ho boy, SMG4 is surrounded by a few, smaller clones. Finger guns pointed at him. He's cornered. And appears, RTV wants everyone's attention, including SMG4.

"Now, ALL OF YOU! (ouch my ears!)," swiftly raising his voice before back to a mix of a sneer and false calmness. "You had all your fun here enough. CONGRATS! You and your abilities, and resourcefulness, teamwork and... sneaky... unheard talents," I felt his gaze on us, and a brief squeeze for half a second (please, hope that didn't wasted the Armor/Nano Armor sigil). "I'm impressed... well, half, Impressed."

"H-Hey, leave them all alone," cried out SMG4. "It's me you want!"

Is... SMG4 wanting to turn himself in for everyone's safety, or ours? But... wonder if I impressed him with the accidental hijack goof. Yet... even a different SMG4...

He's not meant to do that.

"Hm... perhaps a little too late, dear SMG4. The fault of one is the fault of all of them. Besides, THIS kind of behavior is exactly why I'm not letting you go."

......

"Again... as for... you two," RTV directs at us... "Do you think that little stunt, was to show me up?" Now he's upset. We shake our heads. "Hm... not much of a talker? And even after back at the Film Department? Now... people as high as I, has his secrets, and you two are the first in line to hear it." RTV sounded falsely cheery, and moves us in front of the audience. "Well... My secret?"

His face turns completely dark, with only a bright white realistic smile on it (think of the wolf!).

"Sometimes... QUIET PEOPLE, PISS ME OFF!" (is that a Deltarune Chapter 1 reference?) And then, his grip tightens-

Me and Other Me close our eyes as we expect the worst for everyone to see; never letting them know we would come back.

(the ticking then is replaced by one large thump)

Suddenly, the pressure is gone now. I look and... Other Me just became a giant; though not as big as RTV. Looks like the Fledging sigil came at the right time! Looking at RTV, he's speechless like he didn't see it coming

"W-What. Are. YOU???" that is all he could muster.

But Other Me didn't want to linger any longer and grabbed me and went to book it before he could react (why is she not pulling her wings out?). With RTV distracted, everyone takes advantage of it and free themselves. And... maybe a few smaller RTV clones gliding after us. Guess he didn't liked we pulled one trick after another. Though we still do the old dive-bomb tactic in front of the resumed fighting crowd; and Other Me protecting everyone with her now enlarged umbrella. Wait... where are the smaller RTV clones? Did they got eliminated in the crossfire? At least, it appears we are getting the upper hand. Maybe there's no need for any drasti-

All of a sudden, as we pass a nearby TV, it all of a sudden sprouted arms and faced at us; and showing the expression from before. It grappled onto giant Other Me's right, restricting the one arm with her umbrella. The force of the sudden tackle launched me (with my stuff still with me) in the empty space; leaving me vulnerable. And accidentally bumping into (participant/SMG4)

And then, either the real RTV or a larger clone, shows up. Finger gun ready to fire...

I look at Other Me... she sees this. And gives me a knowing look, with the living TV still clinging to her and making her unable to use the umbrella to protect us... She's going to perform a Desti...

(Oh boy... this is going to traumatize everyone! This is going to hurt!)

Other Me dives between me and the participant/SMG4, with the TV still clinging to her, and shut our eyes, but I open mine quickly to see when-

PEW SPLASH!

As if the (traumatic but planned) scene was replayed in different angles, and in slow motion, the shot Other Me took went through her left side of her chest and back, with blood leaving the wound before changing color from red to blue. It hit the chest pocket (why is placed slightly above the chest area?) where all of the mixed Inscryption cards where, and all floating/flying around; some destroyed and or covered in blue blood. The living TV that was clinging to her moved out of the way moments before the blast; looks like this is what RTV wanted (?)

(And... in his head, RTV... just drew first blood)

The force of the blow sending her towards a TV that she crashes, and breaks (Sorry RTV, but still...)

(I hope there was no one in it)

She must be in pain by now.

Everyone stops what they where doing... shocked at the (haunting) spectacle.

Other Me's POV

*I did it! But... WHY DID IT HAVE TO HURT SO MUCH!!! I... I'm bleeding everywhere....! T-the... the In-scryption cards.... oh....

*I.... hope Real Me s-sticks w-with the... p-plan... which she will cry now? 'Me' or-

Back to Real Rayas' POV

(Sticking to the plan)

"No... 'REAL MEEEE'!!!!!!!" I shouted as loud as I could and extending my hand towards her. I'm pretty sure it echoed across the TV Dimension. And I did my best to find it as an excuse to cry.

Here we go, Anime Arc 2.0; Desti's Death Part 2

"Oh... Oh my God!!" I heard SMG4 said it (that line, is the exact one when Luigi turned into a meat mallet, and everyone thought he got killed in the canon PV Movie). Just hope this isn't giving him Anime Arc reminders; or reminders.... of what happened to this place's Mario.

There were saddened murmurs and cries such as.

"She's... she not!"

"How could you?!"

"No... No nononono!"

(I think it worked too well. God Lord)

(I hope Meggy isn't seeing this, or anyone else)

"56 now...," dryly said RTV. I got to say... indeed, a different Mr Puzzles. (I won't lie, but that's what he would say. No empathy he has, but more for me)

Other Me clenches to her wound, as she slowly floats away from where she crashed; a trail of blue blood floating in the open space. And brushing against the floating ruined cards (Didn't put attention that some of them slowly floating into some of the TVs). She's slowly shrinking down...

She looks up at everyone else and says.

*"I-It's been nice... meeting you all. T-thanks, for the tour....," she then looks at me, with a weak smile, yet knowing. "'O-Other... you,... You better return home in my place, yes?," did she tried to recreate Desti's final words? It's pretty convincing honestly.

And then... she goes limp, letting go of her umbrella. She's dead... but hopefully not for long. But I must remain in character; and I'm not the kind to be acting in front of a live audience. I approach her and cradle her. Yikes... that... could have been me, even if I'll just come back. Better excuse to slowly open the waterways.

"'Real'... 'REAL'?!," Okay, that sounded too much. (Still waiting for her to come back... hopefully). "'Real... No... Please... What am I going to do?" I bury my face on her chest as I "cried" (actually cried, but because everyone is probably) and turned away, in the direction where the second umbrella floated and went to grab it (still have my RTV Plushie, safely tucked in my umbrella as an improvised tote). "This feels wrong... Replacing the original? This... has to be a dream? It has to..."

To add it a little, I connect my tail to her tail, to make it appear it would revive her.... sadly... nothing... I disconnect it.

"I-I can't believe I'm now carrying her body instead of the unconscious version" I quickly mumbled. (I think I went too far on that one)

A pause, slightly slowing my crying. Now to find my words, but phrasing it carefully, since RTV thinks I'm the copy. Plus, a copy, would share the same personality, thoughts,... and past.

(Sad song right here)

"Do you realized... how she was enjoying the tour?," I went on without hostility in my voice, yet what I'll say is true since I'm not the copy but the real one; and knowing RTV, he would laugh anyways. Deciding, not to mention the drawing, but he'll probably review the cameras anyways once it is all over. "Seeing her memories... So many good things... How....," sniff. "How she learned to grow, how it took her long to adjust and make friends, despite being in the spectrum," I got to keep it up. As I'm cry talking, I momentarily let Other Me float as I look for the Puzzlevision tie fleece blanket drawing, some peeked to see what it is. I concentrate to do a series of moves while still crying before producing the blanket for real, and draping it over Other Me's body; I wonder how everyone reacted to that trick. And then place the now closed umbrella on her. And also wrap my cord tail around her to keep her secured to me. "She enjoyed all the departments... getting a compliment for how she looked... how she interacted with the SMG3 Gang... Oh," I think I'm really crying for real. "The last time she saw the latter,... was that they were a lot... happier than before she met them. Did... did she do something more special?... Like the green drink, the peculiar game, or the anime she was given the honors to pick?" Sniff... "Was she, like... a second Axol, to them?" I quietly say that last part.

(I wonder if SMG4 came just to check on his former friends. And i'm somehow telling him they have been doing fine)

I cradle Other Me closer. I keep crying. As it went, I noticed some of the participants getting closer. Animsay, slightly close, but I felt like... even if she cannot remember me since she's changed here, something about me gets her attention.

"She... she...," I slowly look up at RTV, his dry expression remaining unchanged with my tear stricken face. I myself, keeping my cool. "She even cleaned your clothes when you were down..., and not even once, attacked you physically. She never had the intention to, b-because," I close my eyes for a moment, looking away, calming my tears and sadness (even if an act where I might be taking it too seriously). "...S-she was just a visitor, wanting to enjoy it all. Have a good time. And she did... Now she's gone... all that is left is a carbon copy... Knowing her, do you know what she would say... after what happened? Since I'm her...," a pause, sniff. "Mr Puzzles, I forgive you."

I barely looked up at his face, but I'm sure he's unmoved; that's expected.

"It was her great day... It was, a great day...," and that will be all. I bury my face back to Other Me. But a side glance to see his face.

(Strange, forgiving a villain who wouldn't hesitate to get his hands dirty. It's almost like holding no grudges to a wolf that bit me more than 10 times)

RTV closes his eyes... keeping his cold, dry expression. Is he going to laugh? He already showed he's not the type to warm up.

His comment?

“It was indeed a GREAT day…until someone had to mess it up. Shame.” RTV said dryly.

(Thank you)

Well, that was all I needed to hear. No sympathy, but just his response is enough... And maybe he'll remember it.

"...What now?," I very softly asked to myself.

(TO Be Continued)

______________________________

Author's Notes: Holly Molly! Never meant to scare you all like that! I promise, that it was all staged. And helped the host with writing the next part.

The drawing in question.

(Between The Star and AV Puzzles is Astro by @the-masked-astro , one of the participants on the tour) All Ocs/AUs belong to their owners and can be found here Puzzlevision Mass Attack)

Note about the drawing. In the story, her drawing is impervious to getting destroyed/damaged, and the only one who can is Rayas since she made it. So, anyone not from her home or herself, it's like stretching an unbreakable rubber band.

Note, interactions available, but comment/dm first. Plus, if anything, I might slightly change the story here.

[crimsonxcloverr]

so this has been on my mind for a while now lol, esp after reading hell's fire and your hc's for possessed dale

what if reader had strong feelings for him, but also feared those feelings and him to an extent? what if reader was loyal and sweet yet detached somehow? and it had been like that from the day they'd met

she kept an air of mystery she believed was necessary to keep a relationship "healthy", wanting to seem less human to him and more like an illusion tbh, moreorless an enigma

i'll elaborate more if u want, but how do u think dale would respond to that?

we talked more about this and i’m so happy with it!!

being so spooked by dale that you feel the need to go into goddess mode, and he’s so submissive sometimes that he just bows down to you, feeding you strawberries and massaging you. you’d make him choose— mr downstairs or you!! it’s giving dark empath!!

the two of you had just gotten into an argument, his shouting and screaming scaring you.

“fine! i’ll leave i suppose,” you sigh trying to manipulate him.

“oh, my angel, please no! i’d do anything for you,” dale begs on his knees with his hands clasped together as you stand in front of him. “please, please don’t go.” he kisses your thighs pathetically as he cries.

“fine. go run me a bubble bath and bring me my fruit, then we’ll talk.”

[yokyopeli]

@suomiplorpoturnaus innoittama tein kyselyn omista suomalaisista (mutta ei suomi-) blorboistani. Kaikki nämä hahmot ovat jotenkin suomalaisia ja minun lemppareita.

Satu Järvinen (Malin Buska) A Discovery of Witches (2018-2020); noita Suomesta. Malin Buska on tornionjokilaaksolainen ja osaa suomea ja meänkieltä./ Finnish witch. Malin Buska is tornedalian and knows Finnish and meänkieli.

Aikku Jokinen; New Avengers/ U.S. Avengers; supersankari POD/Enigma. Norjasta, kummatkin vanhemmat ovat suomalaisia. Naissuhteessa Toni Ho'n kanssa./ From Norway, both parents are Finnish. Superhero. In a sapphic relationship with Toni Ho.

Nathan Wuornos (Lucas Bryant) Haven (2010-2015); poliisi Stephen Kingin Mainesta. Ei tunne mitään fyysisesti. Wuornos on suomalainen sukunimi. Lucas Bryant on kanadalainen, jonka isä on amerikansuomalainen. Näytteli myös Tyttökuningas leffassa./ A cop in Stephen King's Maine. Incapable of feeling anything physically. Wuornos is a Finnish last name. Lucas Bryant is Canadian and his father is Finnish American.

Serafina Pekkala; Eva Green The Golden Compass leffa/ Ruta Gedmintas His Dark Materials tv-sarja. Noita Suomen tapaisesta maasta./ Either version of Serafina Pekkala. Witch from a Finnish-like country.

Henri Jaakoppi The Selection: The Heir/The Crown; maahanmuuttaja, ei osaa edes rallienglantia. Leipuri, lempparit on omenalörtsy ja korvapuustit. Asuu Sotassa./ Immigrant to Illeà, doesn't speak any English, not even with rallienglish accent. A baker, favorites are apple pastry and cinnamon bun. Lives in Sota.

Lotte Yanson Little Witch Academia; noita koululainen Suomesta. Mahdollisesti suomenruotsalainen ja/tai suomensaamelainen. Fanityttö. / Witch student from Finland. Possibly Fennoswedish and/or Saami from Finland. A fangirl.

Sophia 'Valmet' Velmer Jormungand; Suomalaisesta armeijaperheestä. Palkkasoturi. Lesbo. Puuttuu toinen silmä./ From a Finnish army family. A mercenary. Lesbian. Missing an eye.

Jukko Hämäläinen Wildstorm: Team Achilles/ Osasto Karhu; empaatti, joka tuntee ihmisten kivun kolmen kilsan sisällä (nukkuessa puolen kilsan sisällä). Kiroilee suomeksi./ Empath who can feel people's pain within about 2 miles (a quarter mile while sleeping). Swears in Finnish.

Veera 'MK' Suominen (Tatiana Maslany) Orphan Black: Helsinki/ Orphan Black s4-s5. Autistinen klooni Helsingistä, Suomesta. /Autistic clone from Helsinki, Finland.

Joseph Elo (Kris Kaiyala) Dirt an audio drama (2020--). Podcast amerikansuomalaisesta Joseph'ista, jonka aikoja sitten kuollut isoisä alkaa lähettää mysteerikirjeitä. Kolme kautta on ilmestynyt, neljäs/viimeinen alkaa myöhemmin 2024./ Finnish American Joseph Elo starts getting mystery letters from his long dead grandfather.

[pybownies]

"…It's said that people can never see their true faces. At best, they can see their reflection in the mirror, but there's no way for them to see their actual selves …. In the end, it may be the case that only other people have the right to evaluate us. …” (Nagyuun, an excerpt from ep.75)

I love how the author, Hwandaeng, shows this through the series:

Nagyuun assumes his twin's identity, who is perceived as more pragmatic and judgmental. However, Zius can see Nagyuun's true personality - he is caring and considerate. Zius knows Nagyuun is inherently good, a conclusion drawn from his careful observation. This understanding is why Zius repeatedly expresses his trust in Nagyuun. Luzian also understands Nagyuun's true nature, possibly from his actions (and maybe her intuition). As a result, she trusts him despite his seemingly unclear intentions.

Zius is usually stoic (likely because he spends much time lost in thought and planning). Even Nagyuun, our resident master empath, struggles to read him, leading to some mistrust. Despite this, most knights trust Zius due to his leadership skills and honorable qualities, believing they would be lost without him. The only person who views Zius objectively is Waron. She understands that just as the knights depend on him, Zius also heavily relies on them. While Zius places honor secondarily, Waron grasps this truth that other knights, who usually prioritize honor, might overlook.

Lastly, there's Waron (she’s the hardest one to crack; thank God for the occasional flashbacks and her monologues). She presents a challenging enigma, concealing herself beneath the identity and helmet of a deceased friend. Her motivations remain hidden; the only evident traits are her love for combat and potential enjoyment in defeating/killing (as rumoured) other knights. Only Nagyuun and Zius have some insight into her true nature, yet even their understanding is limited. Nagyuun perceives Waron as predictably unpredictable. Zius, on the other hand, believes she doesn't act without good reason. (This may suggest a future backstory that justifies her trustworthiness, as current events don't provide enough evidence to support what made Zius trust her in the first place. Furthermore, for him to promise his overwhelming power to Waron, wouldn't it require a great deal of trust that she won't use it for ill purposes? After all, he is a rational person. )

In short, everyone wears a mask, and those who are observant can see through them. As Ram stated in the Gilgamesh prequel, "observation is the key to winning a fight". However, in the TEK case, observation is not just crucial to winning fights but also to winning over people.