#its hard to deal with that but there are other outlets and ways to help yourself i promise

[no-more-rqs]

reminder: it actually does not matter if you have a friend whos a poc who tells you that "race transitioning" is fine. it doesnt matter if youre a poc yourself and you think its fine. guess what? people can be wrong!

even outside of this, people can be wrong.

if a scientist with a phd tells you the earth is flat, do you just immediately believe that with no question? you may think "someone with a phd would never believe that", but there are several scientists who do! there are modern scientists with phds and careers who believe in shit like phrenology or ancient astronaut theory or other bullshit like that.

there are poc who are nazis, who believe in white supremacy and believe that poc are inferior or subhuman. if a poc like myself tells you that all poc are inferior to white people, do you just automatically believe that? there are very famous poc who hold these ideals, such as kanye west.

you are seeking out specific people in your community who agree with all of your ideals. you are finding one or two or ten or however many people who agree with you and ignoring the tens of thousands of people who dont agree. you are doing exactly what conspiracy theorists and racists do: finding one professional or seemingly trustworthy source and basing your entire logic around that one source.

racists will find one scientist who believes in phrenology and use that one scientist to say "look! a real scientist with a phd agrees with me! you shouldnt listen to the wider scientific community, theyre all biased and wrong and this guy is the only one whos correct!"

radqueers will find one poc who supports "race transitioning" and use that one person to say "look! a real poc agrees with me! you shouldnt listen to the wider poc community, theyre all biased and wrong and this guy is the only one whos correct!"

do you understand what im saying here? you cant pick and choose who to believe based on whether or not you agree with them. listen to as many poc as you can, outside of radqueer communities. listen to ones who dont even know what radqueer means. the vast majority of poc say that "transitioning races" is inherently racist (and impossible, considering you cant just transition to have been born somewhere else or have different biological ancestors, which is what determines race because race and ethnicity are inherited unlike gender), dont just choose 20 poc who say its good and ignore the 20000 who say it isnt.

[phagodyke]

.

[unoislazy]

Jealous Mizu Headcanons

Disclaimer: A tad bit of NSFW is included in this so be warned

A/N: again, i apologize for not getting anything super extensive out. I thank you all for being so patient and so sweet!!

————————————————————

Mizu’s not the type to be outwardly jealous.

She’ll get jealous but she won't say much about it, she’ll just let it fester inside her quietly until it gets to be too much and she needs an outlet.

More often than not that outlet is fighting (more on that later)

She would never think to label you as “hers”, you’re not an object that she can possess.

However, when it comes to other people being around you, she finds it very tempting to start.

Before either of you confessed, you had already made up a plan to act like you were a couple to avoid unwanted stares from men and women alike.

Turns out Mizu enjoyed that much more than she thought she would.

God help the person that decides to flirt with you while she's around

If that person happened to be Taigen? Forget the duel that man's dying TONIGHT

Mizu of course would recognize that you’re your own person and you can choose to be with whoever you want… but the thought of you choosing TAIGEN of all people is not a thought that would allow her to sleep well at night.

She would claim its for no other reason than she thinks you deserve better than a man who abandoned his engagement for honor

She wouldn’t be wrong but you wouldn’t have even been interested in Taigen in the first place so her coming up with all these reasons why you shouldn’t choose him would just be outing herself.

She refuses to come to terms with the fact that she feels jealous about anything

She would be deep in denial for as long as she could manage until someone finally calls her out on it.

Her jealousy causes her to become a tad bit possessive

She’s not the most secure person in the world when it comes to relationships no matter how hard she pretends to be

She would go above and beyond to try and make sure no one was going to try and lure you away from her.

NSFW Headcanons

(Pretty vague in favor of remaining gender neutral)

Remember how I said “More often than not that outlet is fighting”

Well the alternative to that involves you

It would be less about being possessive over you and instead it would be her way of proving to you she can give you more pleasure than anyone else

And she would without a doubt prove that successfully

She might not be incredibly experienced but you wouldn't have been able to tell that by the way she treated you

Despite her feelings she would actually be extremely gentle with you

It’s not your fault she's mad that other people also find you attractive, so she’d have no reason to be angry with you.

Which means praise. Lots and lots of praise

Constantly reminding you how pretty/handsome you look while beneath her

What, you thought she wasn’t going to pin you down? That’s like her signature move at this point, she’s GOING to be on top.

She would take an opportunity handed to her to tease you and usually that meant one of two things

She teased you with compliments

Or she teased you by stopping what she’s doing all together and having you beg for her to continue

Just cause she’s not mad at you doesn’t mean she can’t mess with you a little

Considering before this point she wouldn’t have been so open about her feelings you would’ve been taken by surprise

She would find it incredibly entertaining if you got embarrassed by all the sudden attention she started giving you

As rough as she deals with things in her everyday life I think she’d be a service dom honestly, in this specific instance at least.

She wants you and she wants you to know that.

She wants to sear it into your brain so any time you even so much as look at someone else all you’d get is a flashback to how good you felt with her.

She would not let you do anything for her, she wants to focus on you and only you

She would just enjoy knowing she was making you feel good and that’s all she’d need

If you tried keeping quiet, she would persuade you into letting go, she wants other people to know that she was the one making you feel good

Needless to say if Taigen had attempted to flirt with you before, he definitely knew not to now.

[thorough-witness-enjoyer]

In the face of recent news about our beloved Destiny, I think it’s more important than ever for us as a community to come together and support each other in numerous ways.

It’s been a very hard week for all of us, especially those who lost their jobs and outlet for their passion in mass lay offs. Losing a position that allowed you to craft magnificent stories alongside some of the most ambitious people in the gaming industry, especially in worrying economic circumstances, must be excruciating to deal with and I wish the best for all those laid off from Bungie.

For us fans, it hurts more than anything to see the game you care so much for get put in headlines for how little that care is shared amongst the people responsible for making decisions on it. I’ve been into Destiny since it first dropped, making it the love of my life for nearly two-thirds of my whole existence , and to hear about how it’s just another product to be sold when it’s everything and more to me is just despairing. I wanted to become a writer and concept artist to create a game for others that made them feel as cared for as I did when I played Destiny and now I’m sitting here seeing all the people who helped foster that feeling be treated as another expenditure.

It’s awful, a lot of us are feeling really uninspired and betrayed at the moment, not sure we even want to see what will happen to this masterpiece of a game in the hands of the current executives. We are also dearly missing the developers, artists, writers, and more who made Destiny more than a fps looter shooter.

But it is times like these where we are torn and confused that we must uplift one another and not let the bitter taste of Bungie’s actions make us speak with hostility. This is not about decisions on whether to support Bungie or the actual game, but about refocusing on what truly makes Destiny enjoyable to so many.

Its world is immersive with care put into every story and that clearly shows in just how eager fans are to create masterpieces for it. It was never playing the game or the notoriety that kept me coming back for more, but the joy of creation I could share with others.

It stings to see a disinterest in nursing the potential of the Destiny universe from the executives with motivations other than monetary gain, but when the executives won’t care, we can. There are still employees at Bungie who adore their work and we can continue to support them by speaking up against horrible industry practices and show that we won’t abandon their efforts to make Destiny what it is.

Make ocs, write fanfictions, follow the former employees wherever they go, draw til your heart is overflowing, join Discords, roleplay, share headcanons, create aus with friends, do whatever keeps Destiny alive and flourishing for you!

Destiny will never die to me, even when it’s long forgotten and the servers shut down, because Destiny made me who I am and I intend to repay that gift an infinite amount of times over. The characters and universe will be alive and well to me until I die, regardless of the fate of the game and Bungie.

So go out and prove that Destiny’s themes of the power of community and hope are more than just morals behind a screen, that they are life changing messages that we will carry on despite hopeless news!!

Reblog charming artists, message people about ships you enjoy, leave questions and tags that contribute to conservations, write essays about what Destiny means to you!!

My messages and inbox for questions are always open if anyone would like to talk (I’m trying to get better at answering them, even if they are months late)! You are all welcome here and I want to start reblogging and liking more freely even if those things scare me sometimes!

We can decide our fates and we can decide the fate of Destiny’s presence in our lives as well! We can choose to care when others won’t and refuse to make our enjoyment debatable!! In troubling times, we should be able to reach out into the dark and find hands to hold onto tight!!

[cupidastrology]

𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬 ︎ ♀︎ 𝐢𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐨 ♌︎ 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟐 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬

Please do not repost or copy <3

This is a general post of how Venus ︎ ♀︎ in Leo behaves in each house of the tropical zodiac, this is not a transit post. Please apply natal venus ︎ ♀︎ and house position within interpretation.

All Birth Chart Readings are available to book.

( ★ _ <)

1st - confidence is shown through the physical appearance, stomach sensitivities and issues are prone to happen if careless in what you intake food wise, your insecurities manifest as stomach aches. many are either highly jealous of your position in life, style, look, and eyes, or worship your presence.

2nd - you are never ignored, the voice and opinion is always highly favored or hard to overlook by your peers. you may do well in a position of power, where you are speaking for others or defending them. focusing on possible exercise as your emotional outlet may influence others to walk your path.

3rd - your thoughts are focused, consistently tailored to your values, and may have large spending ventures when the check hits. its important to take note on your choices, which may involve much indulgence. being sure to have a clear mind on what you want is important before anyone else.

4th - you are private in your home manners but loud about the raw childhood you may have experienced. possible abilities to learn homemade remedies to better the look, style, and body that may want others to know your secrets to success physically. others are influenced by your humble demeanor and secrecy. you are able to do well in the world of real estate and interior design.

5th - dating is always full of drama but creativity is endless, you may do well in spaces of theatre, music, and drag. connecting with others in a artistic space is important and may help you to grow more in confidence. love can be seen through flings or start at parties or the club.

6th - the power in work and self care is prominent here, and is admired by your peers and family. you do well in taking care of others, and may focus on the well being of those you protect and defend constantly. your self care comes first and creation of new remedies or makeup styles make you otherworldly.

7th - romance is always heightened but can attract partners that want a piece of the confidence that you have. you are constantly attracting others into your world through networking, but generally you're a person with a lot of dominance and importance through daily life.

8th - money is consistently coming into your life, depending on the confidence and security that you hold towards yourself and your assets. to focus on your privacy can be difficult, especially due to many wanting to access you more than a romantic way. you attract long term romance and intimate people and relationships in your life, for once not easy to cut off when it becomes old and weak.

9th - you have high beliefs and spiritual understandings of the world around you, and this can help with finding strength and motivation in times of dread or worry. you connect with those that believe in a higher purpose, that focus on teaching others way of living, and may find power in the world of spellwork. powerful women in magic is attractive to you.

10th - you are both the powerful boss and the target to other competition in your life, especially when it comes to romance you connect or attract beings with a lot of status, motivation, confidence, and at times possessiveness. you are shown off, never to hide in the dark, and constantly with a lover that has big dreams to take actions towards in your life.

11th - friendships and travel may be a big deal with a possibility to find big time romance in your friendships and in your social meetups/parties. it is always fun to connect with others, and you do well in the world of fashion, art exhibits, or creations of the skin (skin care, makeup) that influences others to follow you.

12th - your love can continuously be tested, at times nonunderstanding of why what everyone does doesn't work for you. finding your own ways of motivation and confidence is important through much isolation, but also observing the confidence/security of others. to find yourself to see the root of another, but to observe the ideas you have that can become stronger through much time and patience. possessive partners can be a drag, and self creation can heal you here.

[lilypadlys]

In Your Arms

Dew is having a hard time on tour. Between being homesick, missing Aether, and having nightmares, he's at the end of his rope and snapping at everyone. He really needs some gentle love but who do you turn to when you've pushed everyone away?

Ship: Dew/Swiss, bit of Dew/Aether

Word Count: 1550

Rating: Teen (for mild language)

Tags: SFW, fluff, hurt/comfort, cuddles

Below the cut or on AO3

The tour is nearing its end. Everything has been going mostly smoothly. The new summons Aurora and Phantom have integrated seamlessly. No major injuries have been sustained. Only some venue issues and inclement weather stood in the way of it being a flawless run and those were out of their control.

Still, Dew feels on edge. He’s tired. Being away from the ministry, constantly on the move, and missing Aether and Sunny, as well as a million other discomforts are all taking their toll. He hasn’t slept soundly in ages, sleep plagued with nightmares.

He’s been extremely snappy at everyone. He manages to pull himself together for the shows. Falling into his role, taking out his frustrations on his guitar strings. Off stage though, he can’t find an outlet. The smallest thing sets him off.

He hates himself for it. Cumulus didn’t deserve the hisses he spewed at her when she tried to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. Poor Phantom looked ready to cry when Dew told him to fuck off when he asked if they wanted to room together at the hotel last night. Aurora and Rain have been avoiding him entirely, afraid of invoking his wrath. Cirrus and Mountain shoot him glares on the regular in response to his snarky asides. Swiss is the only one still willing to deal with him and even the multi ghoul’s patience has its limits.

When they get settled in the hotel for the night, Swiss just wordlessly hauls the grumpy fire ghoul into their room before he can start a fresh argument in the hotel lobby. Swiss has given up trying to help. He sighs tiredly as Dew chucks his overnight bag to the floor, causing a loud thump. Dew flops on his bed and turns his back to Swiss with a growl. Swiss just shakes his head, exhaling through his nose, and disappears into the bathroom to shower. Dew is left to glower in solitude.

When the bathroom door clicks shut, Dew huffs and rolls onto his back. He doesn’t know what to do. How to get out of this funk. He knows the other’s are trying to help but he can’t lower his guard long enough to let them. Aether could fix this. He thinks. Aether always knew what to do to get Dew to chill. Be it forcing him into a cuddle pile, fucking him senseless, or even just letting Dew rage. Aether’s patience seemed neverending. No matter how long he was out of it, how many nasty things Dew said, Aether always forgave him.

As if on cue, Dew hears his phone buzz. He wrestles it out of his pocket and glances at the screen. Aether.

“Hey Firelily.” The text reads.

“Hey Aeth.”

“How’re you holding up?”

Dew snorts. “What do you think? I’m sure Mount already blabbed to you.” Dew instantly regrets it as soon as he hits send. Why is he like this? Here’s Aether, checking on him, obviously concerned about him, and all he can do is be a bitch.

“Yes, Mountain told me you weren’t feeling well. Is it the nightmares again?”

Dew is once again amazed at Aether’s uncanny ability to always find the root of the problem.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry Spark. I wish I could be there to help.”

But you’re not, is all Dew can think. He knows it’s not Aether’s fault. He’d be here if he could. But he’s not.

Even though he holds back from typing it, Aether seems to know what he’s thinking anyway.

“You’ll be back home soon and then I’ll help in whatever way I can.” Aether promises.

“Thanks.”

Dew makes to toss his phone to the nightstand when it buzzes again.

“The others care about you too. They just want to help.”

Dew wants to make some jerky comment but he can’t. He squeezes his eyes shut to hold back the tears that have begun to form.

“Yeah.”

“I know it’s hard but you’ve got to open up. They can’t help if you don’t let them.”

Dew sits in silence with that. He knows it. Truly he knows that everyone in the pack loves him and cares about him, and that they want to help. And yet all he’s done is push them away.

“Sweet dreams Dew.”

Dew does start to cry then. He so desperately needs a hug. Needs someone to wrap their arms around him and tell him everything will be alright. That they don’t hate him despite how horrible he’s been. Needs someone to hold him as he falls asleep and to protect him from the nightmares and nasty thoughts that plague his brain whenever he tries to relax. He curls up into a ball, tail wrapped around himself, as he sobs into the sheets.

He doesn’t hear as Swiss quietly opens the bathroom door, despite the water never running. He doesn’t see him round the corner. Swiss’ gentle touch on his back startles him and flinches; hissing and baring teeth. Dew watches in horror as Swiss’ expression goes from gentle concern, to hurt, to angry exasperation. Swiss grits his teeth and withdraws his hand. “Sorry.” He mutters as he turns away.

“Wait.” Dew forces the word out.

Swiss turns back, brow raised; unimpressed.

“I-I’m sorry.” Dew uncurls himself and sits up as fresh tears well in his eyes. “I’m sorry. Please don’t leave.”

Swiss’ expression softens. He sits on the edge of the bed, giving Dew his space, and waits.

Dew trembles as he forces the words out between sobs. “I’m sorry for being such a jerk. You guys were just trying to help.”

“Yeah, you’ve really been a shit recently.” Swiss agrees, teasingly rather than meanly.

Dew shrinks. “I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me.”

“Oh baby.” Swiss scoots a little closer. “We don’t hate you. Why do you think we haven’t thrown you off the tour bus yet?”

“But I probably deserve it at this point.” He whimpers.

“Nah, not quite.”

“Great, another thing I can’t do right.” Dew huffs and rolls his eyes but there’s no malice in it. Instead he just sounds disappointed in himself.

“Stop that. You can do plenty of things right.”

“Uh huh.” Dew frowns, unconvinced.

“Well first of all, you're the best lead guitarist I know.”

“That’s mean to Ifrit. And Alpha.”

“I don’t care. You’re better.” Dew gives him a look but Swiss continues. “You also make amazing pancakes.”

“That’s like the only thing I can do in the kitchen.”

“So? I love pancakes.”

Dew’s sobs have slowed to the occasional sniffle and a smile is threatening to break out so Swiss keeps going.

“And let's see. You’re pretty too. That doesn’t hurt.”

Dew makes a pouty face but Swiss interrupts before he can protest.

“You are. And I have excellent taste so you know it’s true.”

That does it and the corners of Dew’s lips are quivering upwards. He ducks his head in an attempt to hide.

“In fact, the only thing I can think of that you’re bad at is getting us to hate you.” Swiss closes the distance and nuzzles Dew’s head. “We love you, you little idiot. Don’t forget it, okay?” He purrs in Dew’s ear.

Rather than pull away, Dew leans into Swiss and rewards him for his efforts with a low purr of his own.

“Thanks Swiss.” Dew mumbles shyly.

“Of course Droplet.”

Dew suddenly looks up. “I need to apologize to the others.”

“That you do, but it can wait until the morning. Right now you need sleep.”

“But-”

“No buts. Go shower and change into comfy clothes. I showered back at the venue so I’ll get a nest set up.”

Dew does as he’s told and gets up. He shucks his boots and clothes on his way to the bathroom. The hot water does wonders, washing away sweat and his bad mood alike. He feels infinitely better as he towels off and slips into clean sweats. When he steps out of the bathroom, he finds a blanket nest on the bed as promised, Swiss ensconced in the middle.

“C’mere.” Swiss beckons and Dew hops on the bed and curls up next to him, his back to the multi ghoul’s chest. Swiss pulls a blanket over the two of them and starts to run his claws through Dew’s golden mane.

Once he gets all the tangles out, he starts to braid, humming softly. Dew can’t help but be reminded of Aether. The quintessence ghoul used to do this as well. He figures Aether probably told Swiss how to help and normally Dew would be angry. It’s something special and private. Aether is typically the only one Dew can truly open up with, and be this vulnerable around. But now, he finds he doesn’t mind. He lets himself relax for once as Swiss hums and whispers praise and affirmations.

Dew doesn’t know at what point he drifts off, just that for the first time in a while he’s slept peacefully. Nightmare free.

As soon as he sees the others at breakfast he apologizes. Despite his fears, they all forgive him immediately and he finds himself in the middle of a group hug. He doesn’t even feign dislike, and just lets himself enjoy being held. In their arms he feels warm, and safe, and loved.

[rwbyrg]

How do you stay positive seeing all the negativity we get for shipping this?

I don't typically talk about discourse, but I know this is something pretty much every RG shipper has faced at some point. So I'll make an exception this once. For anyone that doesn't want to hear about it, I strongly encourage you to keep scrolling.

I'm gonna keep it brief(ish) and vague, but content warning for topics of mental health, abuse, general fandom toxicity and ship discourse.

The short answer is that I've had to completely remove myself from large fandom spaces. I left Twitter last fall, I'm not in any big Discords, and I never check the fandom Reddits. I block bullies, bystanders, and bad faith arguers liberally. I mute words and phrases I don't wish to see, I don't engage with the bad faith takes, and I don't go looking in tags much either.

I surround myself with a small group of friends that I enjoy spending time with and can trust. So I still have outlets to be able to geek out without risk of dealing with the wider community's negativity. This blog was also created as a safe outlet to ramble, join together, or spread positivity about the ship. I know how rough it is for us out there - in the RWBY fandom as a whole, as well as within our own RG shipping spaces. So since I can't be an impartial community leader that helps run events or bigger spaces for us like I used to, this is kind of all I have left to offer.

The slightly longer addition that got way out of hand:

I'm not going to say it's not lonely. That I don't miss being part of a more active, wider group of people that we should have every right to join. But despite how hard some of us tried, there was nothing we could do to change the toxicity that is so deeply rooted at the core of this fandom. The fact that I even tried as hard as I did was 1. a trauma response and 2. just ended up with me - and too many of my friends - getting hurt anyway. I can't regret it because it's how I made the friends that are so dear to me now. But none of us should have had to deal with the cyberbullying, harassment, dog-piling, backstabbing, suibaiting, or any of that other garbage to find the group we have today.

It's extremely fucked up. There's no way to sugar coat it. All of it is abuse and is genuinely traumatizing to many people. I am not using these as buzzwords either. Myself and a handful of my rg shipping friends have literally gone to therapy to help us heal from all the things we've experienced in this fandom. So I have it on the authority of multiple psychiatrists, therapists, and social workers that what I am saying here is true.

Rosegarden and its shippers have become the scapegoat of a toxic community. There are big name fans who've staked their entire platforms on the idea of a rival ship being canon. And so, when they see any of us suggesting a Very Likely alternative to their reality (even if we're minding our own business), they become violent and go out of their way to try and defend it. There are entire servers and friend groups built on bullying this ship and its shippers for similar reasons. Anyone that argues against them, no matter how valid their stance, or how articulately its delivered, is going to become a target. Because we are seen as a threat to a system they directly benefit from. If any of them were to acknowledge how unreasonable or ridiculous all of this is, what would that mean for the circumstances and relationships they've built for themselves? It would all fall apart, wouldn't it?

This is why we also see fellow RG shippers invalidating or blaming us for what we go through. Because some of them have become convinced that if they side with the bullies and paint themselves as "not like those shippers", then they'll be "safe". Which as we all know isn't true. Because the antis attack each other for the smallest offences that don't have anything to do with us anyway.

The RWBY fandom is not alone in struggling with this. Fandoms everywhere are seeing these same patterns play out in different ways. A lot of people without as many stakes in the arguments will often scoff or dismiss it on the basis of it being "so serious, when it's just about fictional characters". And to that, I say: bullshit.

First of all, the people on the other side of the screen dealing with all of this are Real People with Real Feelings and their own lives that are already hard enough as it it. And these sorts of environments, as previously mentioned, can and do cause severe harm. Second, none of this hate has anything to do with fictional characters. That is part of the reason why I am still able to enjoy this ship and this show despite everything I've been through here. Because the fictional characters are simply the means to an end. And while that end is different for everyone, for the bullies - by and large - it offers them power in the face of their insecurities.

The only reason this space is as toxic as it is, is because the loudest voices are often the most emotionally immature. All the reasonable people see the infighting going on and know that engaging with it is a pointless waste of energy. As someone that did try to fight it, I truly don't blame any of them for staying uninvolved. But power comes in numbers; so until a large enough group of the reasonable ones come forward, this fandom will only continue on the course it's headed.

I rambled a lot and I'm not even sure how much of this is relevant to your question. If i were to give a tl;dr to answer you, it is this:

You need to curate your own experience by setting boundaries for yourself that cannot easily be crossed by people or content that is going to upset you.

Recognizing the reason people behave the way they do towards all of this has very little, if anything, to do with the show, the ship itself, or the people shipping it is very liberating.

Don't be like how I was. Don't try and force it when it isn't working. If you are in an environment or a habit that you are getting more harm than joy from: leave. It doesn't always feel like it in the moment, but it is better to be alone than to be surrounded by people who suck. And when you shed the ones that don't treat you well, you open yourself up to more like-minded people that will want to be friends with you anyway.

I say this genuinely with only love and support in my heart, but: touch grass. As often as you can, as often as you need to: get offline. Read a book, engage in other hobbies, connect with people in real life, go for a walk or just get outside if you can. When you start connecting with the reality on your side of the screen more, it puts how pointless and absurd so much of this discourse really is into perspective. Moderation is key.

I'm sorry that all of the negativity has got you down. No one wants to acknowledge how much this sort of thing can affect our well being, but I know first hand how bad it can get. None of it is fair. The feelings you're having are valid and aren't anything to be ashamed about. If you have friends or family you can rely on for support, reach out to them when you need it. If you're in a place where you think the help you need is a bit more specialized, you have my support and encouragement in making the call or doing the research to get started. Therapy isn't accessible and doesn't always work for everyone, but it's not the only option. Before I could afford it, I micro-dosed by reading self-help books and following therapists on Instagram, lol.

I'm not sure what else I can say, and have said more than I meant to anyway. But hang in there, you're not alone, and take care of yourself, okay?💕🫂

[thejockout]

A Word On Dumbing Down

In some conversations with my bros @avissapiens and @master-villain the other day, I finally managed to put a specific idea into words that had been crystallising for a long time. Nothing earth-shattering or even transformative, because I'd been exploring this same understanding with different wording for quite a while now, but it felt significant to me and sparked me to make this post.

The realisation was simple: Dumbing Down is not something you can "Do" as a standalone action. It's perhaps more accurate to say Dumbing Down is itself the perspective shift and realisation that "Smart" is something you can choose to "Not Do."

Clunky wording, I know, but pretend it's smooth for me.

(And as a necessary fyi, this post assumes familiarity with Dumbing Down as a hypnotic concept, which is nowadays most often written and spoken about as a general simplification of thought and cognition versus turning you into some drooling doofus. Maybe the latter is your thing, maybe it isn't - either way, I'm talking here about the more "realistic"/AKA sustainable model where the word dumb is synonymous with "so laid back, you don't want to think or care if people perceive you as dumb because of it".)

Too many subjects (myself included) work at hypnotic personality and cognition changes with a straining effort, in an energetically desperate approach. This is understandable - we tend to push hard for things we really want - and anyone can fall victim to it. It's very similar contextually to the trap many anxiety sufferers fall into when they begin therapy. In an earnest attempt to recover, many sufferers approach recovery with the exact same mindset they do life; that of a "fixer", a "do-er", someone who problem-solves and overthinks themselves into knots and runs loops around the same well-worn mental tracks over and over again to the point of exhaustion.

Don't worry, I'm not here to give some big-brain solution to mental health issues. I suffer myself and am on my own journey of recovery, so I'm in no place to play armchair psychologist. But I will speak about this topic as it relates to hypnosis and dumbing down because the overlap of people who are into Dumbing Down/IQ Reduction/Simplification/Bimbofication/Himbofication hypnosis and who suffer with anxiety (and overthinking) is quite high, so chances are that many who struggle with Dumbing Down suggestions are making the same mistakes. Please see my peer-reviewed Paint Diagram below which provides unequivocal, non-anecdotal proof of this.

IMO, there's nothing wrong with this overlap. Kink is an outlet for many people to deal with emotional issues, and often a very helpful coping mechanism. Dumbing Down is no different conceptually. But I'm talking about this because, just like approaching anti-anxiety work with an anxious energy and effort is doomed to failure, the exact same is true for Dumbing Down. Approaching it with an Intellectualist mindset OR in other words, the anxious energy of a fix-er and do-er and try-er is antithetical to the very state you wish to experience.

Does that make sense?

Successful Dumbing Down (beyond the very enjoyable, shorter-term effects of deep trance which feel like intoxication) is effectively the act of stepping back from mental action/the habit of overthinking. To give another clumsy metaphor, if your default mind works like a toy train constantly running around its track, sometimes gaining speed and sometimes slowing down... Dumbing Down comes from realising "hey, I can actually plug this thing out." No, it's not as simple as turning off an appliance, and it takes time for everyone. Overthought (in all its forms, whether anxious or just from over-intellectualising your life) is effectively a habit, and habits take time to make or break.

Therefore, Perspective Shift #1 that you need to make: recognise that thinking patterns and their frequency are ultimately behavioural and habitual, and can therefore be rewired and lessened with time and specific action. It's not an immediate thing - but it is possible, and this is effectively what dumbing in hypnosis is about.

That perspective raises some questions, I know. But I don't want to write about the answers just yet. Reread and consider that last paragraph a few times to make sure you've really processed it. Think about the questions it leaves you with, and come up with a few answers of your own if you can. You can post your thoughts in the comments or reblogs of this post, as I will be taking the time to read through them, and I'll continue this topic in future as I think more on it myself.

Later.

[beardedmrbean]

GRAFTON, Mass. (AP) — When two octogenarian buddies named Nick discovered that ChatGPT might be stealing and repurposing a lifetime of their work, they tapped a son-in-law to sue the companies behind the artificial intelligence chatbot.

Veteran journalists Nicholas Gage, 84, and Nicholas Basbanes, 81, who live near each other in the same Massachusetts town, each devoted decades to reporting, writing and book authorship.

Gage poured his tragic family story and search for the truth about his mother's death into a bestselling memoir that led John Malkovich to play him in the 1985 film “Eleni.” Basbanes transitioned his skills as a daily newspaper reporter into writing widely-read books about literary culture.

Basbanes was the first of the duo to try fiddling with AI chatbots, finding them impressive but prone to falsehoods and lack of attribution. The friends commiserated and filed their lawsuit earlier this year, seeking to represent a class of writers whose copyrighted work they allege “has been systematically pilfered by” OpenAI and its business partner Microsoft.

“It's highway robbery,” Gage said in an interview in his office next to the 18th-century farmhouse where he lives in central Massachusetts.

“It is,” added Basbanes, as the two men perused Gage's book-filled shelves. “We worked too hard on these tomes.”

Now their lawsuit is subsumed into a broader case seeking class-action status led by household names like John Grisham, Jodi Picoult and “Game of Thrones” novelist George R. R. Martin; and proceeding under the same New York federal judge who’s hearing similar copyright claims from media outlets such as The New York Times, Chicago Tribune and Mother Jones.

What links all the cases is the claim that OpenAI — with help from Microsoft's money and computing power — ingested huge troves of human writings to “train” AI chatbots to produce human-like passages of text, without getting permission or compensating the people who wrote the original works.

“If they can get it for nothing, why pay for it?” Gage said. “But it’s grossly unfair and very harmful to the written word.”

OpenAI and Microsoft didn’t return requests for comment this week but have been fighting the allegations in court and in public. So have other AI companies confronting legal challenges not just from writers but visual artists, music labels and other creators who allege that generative AI profits have been built on misappropriation.

The chief executive of Microsoft’s AI division, Mustafa Suleyman, defended AI industry practices at last month’s Aspen Ideas Festival, voicing the theory that training AI systems on content that’s already on the open internet is protected by the “fair use” doctrine of U.S. copyright laws.

“The social contract of that content since the ’90s has been that it is fair use,” Suleyman said. “Anyone can copy it, recreate with it, reproduce with it. That has been freeware, if you like.”

Suleyman said it was more of a “gray area” in situations where some news organizations and others explicitly said they didn’t want tech companies “scraping” content off their websites. “I think that’s going to work its way through the courts,” he said.

The cases are still in the discovery stage and scheduled to drag into 2025. In the meantime, some who believe their professions are threatened by AI business practices have tried to secure private deals to get technology companies to pay a fee to license their archives. Others are fighting back.

“Somebody had to go out and interview real people in the real world and conduct real research by poring over documents and then synthesizing those documents and coming up with a way to render them in clear and simple prose,” said Frank Pine, executive editor of MediaNews Group, publisher of dozens of newspapers including the Denver Post, Orange County Register and St. Paul Pioneer Press. Several of the chain’s newspapers sued OpenAI in April.

“All of that is real work, and it’s work that AI cannot do," Pine said. "An AI app is never going to leave the office and go downtown where there’s a fire and cover that fire.”

Deemed too similar to lawsuits filed late last year, the Massachusetts duo's January complaint has been folded into a consolidated case brought by other nonfiction writers as well as fiction writers represented by the Authors Guild. That means Gage and Basbanes won't likely be witnesses in any upcoming trial in Manhattan's federal court. But in the twilight of their careers, they thought it important to take a stand for the future of their craft.

Gage fled Greece as a 9-year-old, haunted by his mother's 1948 killing by firing squad during the country's civil war. He joined his father in Worcester, Massachusetts, not far from where he lives today. And with a teacher's nudge, he pursued writing and built a reputation as a determined investigative reporter digging into organized crime and political corruption for The New York Times and other newspapers.

Basbanes, as a Greek American journalist, had heard of and admired the elder “hotshot reporter” when he got a surprise telephone call at his desk at Worcester's Evening Gazette in the early 1970s. The voice asked for Mr. Basbanes, using the Greek way of pronouncing the name.

“You were like a talent scout,” Basbanes said. “We established a friendship. I mean, I’ve known him longer than I know my wife, and we’ve been married 49 years.”

Basbanes hasn’t mined his own story like Gage has, but he says it can sometimes take days to craft a great paragraph and confirm all of the facts in it. It took him years of research and travel to archives and auction houses to write his 1995 book “A Gentle Madness” about the art of book collection from ancient Egypt through modern times.

“I love that ‘A Gentle Madness’ is in 1,400 libraries or so,” Basbanes said. “This is what a writer strives for -- to be read. But you also write to earn, to put food on the table, to support your family, to make a living. And as long as that’s your intellectual property, you deserve to be compensated fairly for your efforts.”

Gage took a great professional risk when he quit his job at the Times and went into $160,000 debt to find out who was responsible for his mother's death.

“I tracked down everyone who was in the village when my mother was killed," he said. “And they had been scattered all over Eastern Europe. So it cost a lot of money and a lot of time. I had no assurance that I would get that money back. But when you commit yourself to something as important as my mother’s story was, the risks are tremendous, the effort is tremendous.”

In other words, ChatGPT couldn't do that. But what worries Gage is that ChatGPT could make it harder for others to do that.

“Publications are going to die. Newspapers are going to die. Young people with talent are not going to go into writing,” Gage said. “I'm 84 years old. I don’t know if this is going to be settled while I’m still around. But it’s important that a solution be found.”

[lynchs-finch]

Ross Lynch Imagine - Roaring Twenties, Roaring Desire

1920s AU

It's the 1920s and Ross Lynch, in all his timeless appeal, was all the rage. His skill as a musician and unparalleled ability to transmute heartbreak and loneliness and pain of all varieties into moving pieces of music propelled him to the heights of stardom in practically no time. Notoriety and wealth came intertwined with envious glares and gold-seeking suitors, and before he knew what had happened, Ross's once-outlet for his troubles became a magnet for ten times what he used to deal with. At a time when more people knew his name than ever before, Ross paradoxically felt like the loneliest man in the world.

Then came you. You who was new to the city with 15 bucks and a dream. You who struck up a conversation with the boy with troubled hazel eyes not knowing he could so much as hold a tune. You who Ross could speak to freely without toeing the thin line that interactions between artists and fans required him to be mindful of. It was refreshing, it was wonderful, and, though he knew someone in his position really shouldn't have, he fell for you.

He invited you to his home in all its nouveau riche glory, but all you were looking at was him as he took you up to his room. To talk- or, to listen, really, to the damaged boy in front of you and come to understand him. To learn about him not through catchy melodies and clever lyrics, but through the raw, unfiltered words he speaks through his breaking voice thickened through tears.

And then, after a silent moment of him looking at you as if you were the first person who’s ever really seen him, he invited you to his pool. Quietly, almost bashful, remaining so even as you agreed without hesitation. He took your hand and guided you out back, where he stripped down to his boxers. You intended to change with him, but a freight train smashing through his house wouldn't have taken your eyes off of what you saw.

Shining under the moonlight was Ross’s body, chiseled by some artist whose godlike talent had yet to grace this earth before. You noticed his biceps first, thick and strong and just veiny enough to be sexy instead of freaky, and couldn't help wondering what they felt like to touch- to taste. His upper chest, two bulging pecs iced with hardened brown nipples that seemed to stare back at you, looked just as enticing; and as your eyes drifted down to his abs, perfectly contoured by the moon, you gulped. Hard. It was rare you'd ever found yourself in such close proximity to a half-naked man, especially one who looked so good you wondered why he ever wouldn't be.

"Hey," Ross's voice cut clear through your nervous thoughts, "You comin'?"

And in that moment, as you watched Ross swan dive into his pool, all your nerves evaporated into the cold midnight air. Because there was nothing to be nervous about. Under all that hunk of man was still Ross- Your Ross. The man you've gotten to know, who let you see him when no one else would. Your friend.

So, free off inhibition, you gave yourself permission to hit the proverbial ignition and jump in with Ross. You stripped and dove head-first into the surprisingly lukewarm pool, finding yourself drenched with ears full of water. When you resurfaced, you were greeted by the delightful sound of Ross's laughter, followed by the sight his smile, brighter than the full moon under which his sopping wet hair glimmered.

"Careful!" Ross shouted gleefully, shaking out his hair, "You splashed me right in my face!"

You couldn't help laughing, too, and threatening to splash him again. Before you could make good on it, though, you were met with a face full of water from Ross. A declaration of total war.

The both of you chased each other around the pool, splashing water around like there was no tomorrow. Ross was agile and his splashes went far, but ultimately predictable, and you capitalized on this weakness and got him way more than he ever got you.

At some point, you swung your arm a little too close to Ross and bumped him on the shoulder. This resulted in him spinning around to lightly shove you back and, before you knew it, the war had gone from splishing and splashing to poking and prodding. You took turns chasing each other around the pool, little taps and touches evolving into grabbing at wherever you could reach. You took the opportunity to (rather shamelessly) feel Ross's pecs and biceps, and you were almost sure he was feeling you up too.

Finally, after becoming a tad too sloppy on your defense, you felt Ross's body collide into yours. He had you pinned against the edge of the pool with his hands around your wrists and his chest pressed tightly against yours. The smile on his face, so tantalizingly close to yours, was wicked unlike anything you'd seen on him. Like he had something up his sleeve just for you.

In one quick motion, Ross dove underwater and wrapped his arms around your legs, lifting you out of the water and onto the cobblestone decking. Just as soon as he'd put you on butt, he leapt out of the water and on top of you, knocking you onto your back while he was on his hands and knees. The suddenness of it all should've been at least a little scary, but the playful look on Ross's face and the trust you had in him left you feeling anything but.

There was a silence- one that would've been filled with some quip from either of you were this a more platonic interaction. Now, though, as pool water dripped down Ross's hair and chin onto you, no words came your mind. All you could do was take in the beauty that was Ross. His oppressively calming demeanor, his body fit for worship from the ancient greeks, and, most awe-strikingly, his big hazel eyes, glowing even in shadow as they were trained solely on you.

Like two streams converging in a silent forest, Ross's lips met yours with a quiet sound. You held still at first, just letting him kiss you and kissing back as best as you knew how, until you decided to slowly run your hand across his back. Lightly, as if asking permission to escalate things.

Your touch was met with a shuddering moan from Ross, accompanied by an arching back and a shiver spreading across his body. Without hesitation, you let both hands wrap around him, climbing up and down his back, feeling muscle upon muscle as Ross let his torso fall upon yours.

Without warning, you felt Ross begin thrusting his hips against you, grinding his dick against your body. The sensation of his thick cock touching you, even behind a thin layer of cloth, made you gasp for air. In that moment, Ross shifted from kissing your mouth to your neck, catching you off guard and arch your own back involuntarily.

Though his lips were gentle against yours, his mouth was relentless with your neck. His licked and kissed and bit it up and down, left to right, like he'd been waiting eons to taste you and didn't want to leave an inch of skin untouched. You could hardly contain the pleasure coursing through your body, clawing your nails down Ross's back, in turn eliciting another deep moan from him.

As your fingers reached the waistband of his underwear, a form of payback for him cross your mind. You lowered your hands further, lining them up and rearing one back. With all your might, you gave Ross's butt a hearty smack. He jumped, but didn't protest. In fact, he did quite the opposite.

"Again," He gasped between kissing your neck, "Hit me again."

So you hit him again. Harder. Then on his other cheek. Over and over, then groping his ass and pulling him into you as deep growls rose from within him, vibrating his chest against yours.

"Fuck!" He cried, driving his hips into you faster and harder. Catching on to what was happening quick, you freed a hand and reached down into your underwear, pleasuring yourself furiously.

In no time, Ross's growls turned back into light, exasperated moans as his hips came to a stop. With his dick still pressed against you, you could feel it pulsing as he came in his underwear. You came soon after, Ross sliding his strong arms under your arched back and pulling you in close as you did.

Panting heavily, with sweat and pool water still dripping off of him, Ross rolled off of you and onto his back. He kept one of his arms under you still, like his body physically wouldn't let him cease contact with you just yet.

Again in silence, you let yourself come down from the heat of the moment, feeling fatigued as you did satisfied. You listened to Ross as his breathing slowly returned to normal and watched the stars with him for a while.

And it was nice.

A Little More Ross...

[kozukatt]

i wanna see those ninjago headcanons pleaseeeeee

ask and you shall receive :3

Lloyd:

𑁍 he would be the one to sneak food out of the kitchen

𑁍 whenever Zane’s baking he’s there ready to taste test and steal chocolate chips

𑁍 everyone keeps forgetting he’s just a kid in an adult body so even though he acts tough Lloyd is actually terrified of fighting 

𑁍 after Harumi died in the collapsed building he took a few days off to process the whole thing

𑁍 Kai is a big brother to Lloyd so whenever he’s upset Kai’s always there to help

𑁍 same thing with Nya; she’s a big sister and the middle sibling of the RGB trio

𑁍 Lloyd respects everyone on the team for practically raising him and dealing with his evil phase

Kai:

ꕥ will ironically say “FIYAAAA!” But everyone is used to it so there’s no reaction

ꕥ literally an oven

ꕥ remember in s1 when he found Zane in the fridge? Yeah he never lets him live it down even though he chilled in the oven around that time

ꕥ blames himself for every little thing that goes wrong on a mission

ꕥ takes criticism hard

ꕥ grew to be less protective of Nya but he still worries about her time to time

ꕥ relies on his elemental abilities so when they’re taken away (s10) he feels utterly useless 

ꕥ avoids water because 1: he’s terrified of it and 2: so he won’t ruin his hair

ꕥ Kai’s only afraid of bodies of water so anything more than Nya’s abilities is terrifying to him

Cole:

 he’s simply a bear

 a plus size god

(Minor TW for eating disorder)

 developed an eating disorder during the 1 year time skip as a way to punish himself 

(TW over :3)

 video games are his outlet

 never actually had a crush on Nya he was just confused and felt like he had to feel like he liked her

 amazing at sarcasm

 his and Jay’s bromance can never be broken

 even though his relationship with his dad got better he still never feels like he’s enough

 is afraid of singing because of a deep rooted fear of failing stemmed from his dad

 he’s an amazing listener and comforts the team whenever they need

Jay:

✫ has repressed his comic nerd until Lloyd came along

✫ ADHD at its finest

✫ hyper fixated on comic book characters to try and escape his responsibilities 

✫ gaming with Cole is one of his outlets 

✫ doesn’t like to be called out on his faults but will take them well and improve

✫ still feels resentful to his biological mother and father for leaving him but is glad he has Ed and Edna

✫ his hair is always staticky and always shocks people

✫ isn’t allowed in the kitchen because once he tried starting a fire and blew up the oven

✫ his freckles developed after acne and are a result of scars from said acne

✫ a natural ginger

Zane: 

❄︎ his hair is individual strands of synthetic hair

❄︎ whenever his skin got damaged in s1-3 it would mend back together like real skin

❄︎ when he rebuilt himself he only had basic functions but as time went on Jay added on the ability to feel temperature and other things

❄︎ he constantly has imposter syndrome for being a nindroid

❄︎ he has immense respect for his team and Wu

❄︎ the only rational braincell of the group

❄︎ acts irrationally though when it comes to family (Falcon, the ninja, etc.)

❄︎ he sometimes gets rusty and has trouble moving without pain

❄︎ constantly cold but doesn’t feel it so it takes fire or some other super hot thing to make him even a little warm

❄︎ cooking and baking for the team and people he cares about is his way of showing love

❄︎ whenever someone is having trouble with something he will be there to help no matter what

Nya:

༄ she’s a buff queen

༄ one of the tallest of the group

༄ doesn’t have a good relationship with her mother until the end of seabound

༄ even after she reached her full potential Nya is constantly afraid of failing 

༄ her and Kai relied on each other a lot when they were growing up

༄ they didn’t have a good relationship when they were younger but after Wu took them in they had a stable environment and were able to have a better relationship 

༄ wants to prove to herself and others that she’s worthy of being on the team

༄ has a grudge against Dareth for trying to downplay her 

༄ HATES being put into stereotypes 

༄ never backs down from a fight 

༄ even when she knows she can’t win Nya’s able to stall until catching them off guard to gain the upper hand

[bleedingcloud]

9/19/24

Anyone who knows me knows that for one, I always say I'll be succinct, and I never am.

Anyone who knows me also knows that I'm a very reserved person. Someone once told me that I'm the queen of deflecting. (If you see this, ily).

Truthfully, this has been one of the worst years of my life.

Irreconcilable grievances amongst a myriad of conflating factors have cast over the wonderful things that I have encountered and experienced this year.

I have always attempted to be a kind and altruistic person. My intentions have always been a pure display of my intrinsic desire to put action behind my words, show up in a multitude of ways for others, and prove to them that there are people who care. It is meaningless to me the amount of time I have known an individual. I will always go out of my way to bend over backwards to disprove theories of isolation.

Regardless of how hard I try, I cannot change this value. I am a problem solver by nature and I want to help. I would drop everything and anything to drive hundreds of miles to be there to show you that you're not alone.

The weight of my endeavors has never felt as fruitless as they have felt this year. This is not to say I have felt any regret over anything I've done. I am a firm believer in people doing things because they want to, not because of some arbitrary obligation.

There are people dependent on me. I don't mean in a "my friends need me!" kind of way, but rather dependents that require financial, emotional, and physical presence. My survival is contingent on the dependency of others.

I feel like this year I've had such a disconnect in reconciling my past and future in this weird space of purgatory.

In spaces of academic elitism, I struggle to connect, having gone to a Title I-funded public school system for the duration of my youth. I make attempts to cut through the class gaps and prove my worth as an academic. These efforts find me in good faith with my professors, but studying alone for hours is nothing more than an outlet to distract from the fact that I am alone. Academia has always been my coping mechanism. I can throw myself into hours of reading and work, and the academic gratification feels fulfilling.

I turn to those I miss and love, but at times, it feels there are these unspoken distances or spaces between, or maybe I have grown away. I am incredibly appreciative of those still in my life that I do love and care about.

My family is a mess I wouldn't attempt to touch in this venting session, but know they're always on my mind, in the most gut-wrenching and painful way.

I've felt this year has just been me being squeezed for juice and there's nothing left for me to give. My cup has not been refilled. My attempts to fill my cup have been going back to my previous mention of ensuring others don't feel alone.

I have been told you cannot martyr yourself, but I cannot conceivably conjure up an alternative purpose. My life is not for me - it is simply a vehicle to help others. That is what gives me purpose.

I have loved and I have lost so much this year. I have reached out absent any responses. It has been incredibly difficult for me to reconcile how I could have so much love in my heart and yet feel so innately alone. I have committed social suicide with the potential intent of committing the real deal. I have attempted to drown the weight in my heart with any means necessary to make it go away. I have screamed and cried and pleaded with G-d or whoever else would possibly hear my cries and tell me it was going to be okay.

I have done some incredible things this year. I have loved and enjoyed and indulged and learned so much. I would not write this with the intent to paint a false image. People have done so much for me and shown me so much love. I'm just trying to keep moving forward. I am searching for alternative means.

The most gut-wrenching pain I have encountered this year has been my expression of love and care in its entirety to those around me and receiving not an iota of love back. Giving my all to someone or something and being met with disillusion and moments of exclusion. I’ve always felt marganilized in various spaces throughout my life, but never as much as I have this year. I am not enough for spaces of elitism, but how could I not be enough or maybe even too much for camaraderie? This is my elegiac moment. I ask for nothing. I should expect nothing.

I'm going to keep pushing through because I know my love isn't wasted and I know my efforts might be fruitless, but they mean something to me. Despite how different I crave to be, despite how much I want to absolve myself of altruism, I cannot. These factors are far too intrinsic to erase.

Hearing someone tell me how much my words, actions, or efforts meant to them make it worth it - gives my life meaning.

If you need me, you know where to find me.

[bitterkarmaa]

-The Temptation-

|~This one-shot contains strong language and explicit scenes of blood and violence. Themes of horror are also used. Reader discretion is advised.~|

The fury in every fiber of his being lay dormant, a hungry beast, fit for a killing machine. A vengeful creature, bitter and cold, unwavering and interested in every move he makes. A shadow that makes the same movements, yet plays a far different game. Something he swore never to release, never to nurture, as that would drive an irreversible rift between himself and the others.

The others.

Oh, if only they knew.

He glares daggers into the clock, willing it to go faster as the others begin their nightly routines that will, eventually, lead into silence as they separate to charge. The hesitation lingers in his chest, as brutal as the first time he felt it.

The Star hates when he does this.

But it knew, same as him, that this was the only way he could manage himself without lashing out at one of the others. Undoing all his progress when he has a (somewhat) healthy outlet seemed ludicrous at best, and stupid at worst. It let him do as he pleased under the guise that, if he went too far, it would put him back in line.

He accepted that.

Though it was hard to accept that The Star had a collar around his neck and a leash to accompany it, he knew that he’d be dead without it, so he’d just have to deal with the consequences that came with its presence.

His claws tap away at the paneling on his leg, having switched from his normal attire to something with more…maneuverability. He admits that he hates these clothes with a passion, as, with them, come the memories of the forest with its cold grass and harsh winds. Wearing these cursed clothes feels like he’s digging up those long-buried feelings all over again, and he hates to admit just how much fear it strikes into him.

However, he knows these thoughts will have little to no effect on him when he finally begins the trek to his…outlet. Nothing really mattered to him then, other than completing the journey and fulfilling his desires in what Sun would call a ‘disgraceful’ way.

So what? He’ll be a disgrace if it brings him comfort. Sun can’t fault him for that.

By the time that his musings finally come to a close, the world outside his room is silent. Blood Moon is curled up in their nest, a stuffed bat that Lunar gave them tucked against their chest, held tightly in both arms. Eclipse slips off the side of the bed as quietly as he can, slinking over to Blood Moon’s side to pull a blanket over them as they give a slight stir and groggy blink in his direction.

“Hey, Dad.” They murmur, voices slurred by exhaustion. Eclipse gives them a small smile.

“Hey boys. I’m going to go out for a walk, alright? I’ll be back before you wake up.”

They give him a hesitant look, clearly still torn over past events. “You sure? We could come with…”

“No need. I’ll be just fine.” Their father assures them, and they finally give a small nod before settling back down, beginning to drift off as Eclipse stands at his full height once more. He watches them for a moment longer before turning towards the door, claws clamping down around the knob.

The excitement that twists within him is almost unwelcome in its intensity. He pushes it down, willing himself to keep calm as he pulls the door open, slipping outside and closing it behind him with a soft ‘click.’ The main part of the attendant’s room is dark, save for the soft light that peeks out from Moon’s room. He’s probably helping Lunar get situated for the night.

Sun is sprawled out across the couch, as usual, snoring softly, limbs stuck out at odd angles. Eclipse has always wondered how his counterpart can possibly find a position like that comfortable, but he’s in no place to judge. If they have one thing in common, it’s their horrible sleeping patterns and uncanny ability to squirm like snakes in their slumber. It’s horribly embarrassing, really, though Eclipse would never admit to it aloud.

Rays is neatly curled on a few spare cushions and pillows behind the boxes near the ladder, a single blanket cocooning him. Eclipse casts a faint frown in his direction. He offered the other more things to lay on, and more blankets, but he refused. He said he was comfortable, but it’s awfully hard to believe watching him sleep like that. However…Eclipse doesn’t tell him how to live his life, and he doesn’t plan on starting now.

So, instead, he moves on towards the door that leads out into the theater. The door shuts behind him with a soft click as he exits.

The trek out of the pizza plex is quiet, but that doesn’t help to quell the anxiety that stirs in Eclipse’s chest. He feels the heat of The Star become more and more intense the further he goes from the Daycare, and he knows that’s it’s last attempt at luring him back- a warning, clear as a summer day. He struggles to ignore its call, knowing that this is for the better if it distills his need for violence.

His feet guide him to the front doors easily enough, but his mind isn’t truly in the walk. Letting out a heavy sigh, he gazes up at the shutter that comes down to cover the main entrance. Freddy smiles back at him, but he knows the real Glamrock Freddy would do the exact opposite if he knew where Eclipse was going. His claws curl into his palms, and he finds it unfair that the pain is less jarring than the paranoia that gnaws at his head.

Even so, he moves forwards, placing his hand onto the shutter. With a creak and whine of mechanisms overdue for maintenance, it slides upwards and away from Eclipse’s lightly glowing hand. Only after he has slipped outside does it close once more.

He takes in a deep breath of the chilled air, letting it soak into him and ease the warmth his panic had produced. The nearby trees sway gently in the light breeze, and Eclipse watches the moon claim dominance of the sky overhead. It’s ironically peaceful, despite the acts he intends to commit.

His walk begins, and leads on into the later hours of the night. By the time he approaches the rusted door that leads into the ring beyond, the time blares threatening numbers at him from the corner of his vision.

1:20 AM.

He approaches the doorman, even so.

“Back again, I see?” The gentleman greets, flashing Eclipse a sly smile. The animatronic gives a swift nod.

“Who’s in it for tonight?” Eclipse asks, rays shifting with soft clicks that seem to amuse the man before him.

“Rodger. He’s got some new toys, so I’d be weary if I were you. Beth said she’d have a little fun, too, but she seemed tired- I doubt she’ll be down for an entire fight. Cole and Amy managed to get the okay from their doc’s, so they’ll be back in it too. A few newbies showed up earlier, but I doubt they’ll do anything serious. They’re young, and probably just here to impress some friends or somethin’. Go easy on ‘em, will ya?”

Eclipse cracks a smile of his own, at that, giving the doorman a slight chuckle as he brings one hand up, tapping at his chin in mock consideration.

“We’ll see. Depends on if they say the right things. If not…they’re pancakes.”

The doorman hears the amusement in the animatronic’s tone, and he barks out a laugh before swooping in to grab the door. He opens it and urges Eclipse inside.

“The fight starts in ten. You know the drill.”

Eclipse gives him a swift nod, then ducks inside. The darkness beyond fills him with unmistakable dread, but that only fuels his desire to get in the ring and expel all this energy. He makes his way around the outside, scouting out everyone himself- he trusts the doorman, sure, but not enough to let all precautionary measures go in favor of sitting back and waiting for the fight to begin.

“Always be sure to make judgments yourself. You don’t know what you’re up against until you’re face-to–face with it.”

KillCode’s words are like parasites, stuck in his head for as long as he can remember, no matter how much he would rather learn his own lessons instead of sticking to the ones that traitor put in his mind. It’s hard accepting the fact that KC will be a part of him, somehow, someway, for the rest of his existence. Hard to live with that knowledge after his abandonment.

“Look who it is! I was wondering if you’d show.”

Eclipse stops and turns, facing the owner of the voice with a plain look on his face, giving nothing away. Rodger stands in front of him with a big, cocky gin, as usual. A glance down tells Eclipse that said ‘new toys’ are a pair of daggers, custom made and flashy as a new porsche.

“I thought weapons weren’t allowed?” He comments mildly, giving the man a dubious look. Rodger scoffs, waving a hand dismissively.

“I’m not gonna bring ‘em in the ring, dumbass.”

Eclipse narrows his eyes, the iris of his blind one glowing a faint amber, barely visible amongst the abyss of blackness around it. Cole comes up, then, shoving his elbow into the side of Rodger’s rib cage with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Be nice! The dude can flatten and flip you like a pancake!” He comments, rolling his eyes as Rodger mumbles under his breath. Cole then gives Eclipse a warm smile.

“I was hoping you’d be here on my first day back. I’m looking forward to that rematch.”

Eclipse chuckles. “How’s the hand?”

“A lot better! I got my splint off about a week ago, and the x-rays confirmed that it was all healed up. Just a little sore now, but nothin’ major.” The young man explains, keeping Eclipse’s attention just long enough for Rodger to raise a fist. His hand comes out for a cheap shot, but Eclipse catches his fist before it makes contact, raising an eyebrow as Rodger gives him a nervous smile and chuckle.

“This is why you didn’t graduate, Rodger.” The animatronic quips casually, releasing the easily broken flesh and bone in his grasp.

“Shut the fuck up, frisbee face.” Rodger snaps, but Eclipse simply smiles, revealing his sharp teeth. They gleam with a type of malice that seems obvious enough to make the man back down like a scared puppy. Cole turns to give the older man a frown, looking him up and down as if wondering what to comment on first.

“You’re a mess, man. You gonna be okay in the ring tonight? You know what anger does in there, dude…” He looks away at the last sentence, looking over to Eclipse as if searching for his support.

“You do seem more short-tempered than normal.” He adds curtly, and Cole nods.

“None of your business.” Rodger glares at the both of them, and Cole backs off with his hands raised in a show of innocence.

“I’m just worried about you, dude! We may be opponents in the ring, but that doesn’t mean we have to hate each other outside of the ring, too.”

The look that Rodger gives the younger man makes Eclipse uneasy, so he steps between the two before a fight can break out prior to the scheduled one that begins in about two minutes.

“You really think he’s that unstable tonight?” Cole leans forwards to peer around the animatronic that plays sentinel between himself and Rodger, looking up at his protector anxiously.

“I think you should sit it out tonight.” Eclipse says instead, watching wearily as Rodger turns on him.

“You ain’t gonna think shit about me, robot! You don’t get to order me around! You know what? If you’re so worried about what I might do to little ole’ Cole, how about you duke it out with me? Right now?” The enraged man shoves Eclipse back, and he staggers, if only out of shock due to Rodger’s unexpected reaction.

“Hey! Rodger! Leave him alone!” Cole shouts, moving forwards to push Rodger back before he can truly begin to bear down on the animatronic. Beth and Amy perk up from across the room, stopping mid-conversation to watch the situation unfold.

“Whatcha gonna do if I don’t? Push me ‘round a bit, little guy? Try it, see what happens.” Rodger snarls, advancing on Cole right as Eclipse comes back to his senses. He looks over to the girls and gives them a pleading look, and Beth is the first to get up despite her obvious exhaustion. Amy isn’t far behind.

“Leave the kid alone, he’s been doin’ well despite his age. Don’t pick fights where we don’t need ‘em, either, Rod.” Beth interjects, beginning to gently urge Rodger off towards one of the seats that are kept against the wall for viewing. Amy checks in with Cole, who simply waves her off with a gentle, “Thank you, I’m fine, sweetheart.”

Eclipse turns his attention to the doorman. He watches with a curious expression, then motions outside to the crowd awaiting a place within the audience. Eclipse gives him a nod, then urges both Cole and Amy off towards the rooms in the back used for prep. Within ten minutes, Beth and Rodger join them. A few new faces arrive, as well, just like the doorman had said- but he’s right, they do look young and scared. Eclipse has half a mind to tell them to leave, but knows that they’ll refuse. The younger ones are usually here for a reason, whether it be to get a girl or impress a friend.

Cole grabs his gloves and tugs them on, the blue fabric sliding easily over his skin. Amy does the same with her own red variants. Rodger grabs his yellow pair, and Beth, her green. Eclipse disconnects the tips of his claws and slides them into a pocket in his pants, slipping on his own orange gloves as the newbies decide on which color they want. One of them chooses purple, another pink, navy, white, and, finally, brown. There are more new arrivals tonight than normal, but Eclipse isn’t worried.

“Do we know the pairings for tonight?” Beth asks tiredly, rolling her shoulders.

“Uh, yeah- I got the list right here-” Cole cuts in, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket. He tosses it onto one of the benches, and everyone else gathers around for a look at who they’ll be up against.

Eclipse searches for his name, and wishes he skipped this night when he finally finds it. Rodger. Of course, he’s against Rodger tonight. He has another fight near the end with one of the newbies, too, and the poor guy looks about ready to piss himself when he reads the same thing. Rodger narrows his eyes at the paper, a sly smirk spreading across his face as he slowly raises his head towards Eclipse.

“Looks like I’ll get that fight after all.”

Eclipse looks away, his oil boiling. He storms his way over to his locker, grabbing the orange, tattered shirt within before quickly stripping his fancier shirt and vest off. He practically throws his nice clothes into the locker where the shirt just was, a wave of guilt washing over him as he stares at his garments not long after. He slips the worn shirt over his head after retracting his rays in order to make sure he doesn’t ruin it more, then carefully folds the clothes within the locker into more organized and respectable piles. Once satisfied, he closes the door, slipping the lock back into place.

“Hey, um…Clippy?”

The timid voice behind him makes him turn, giving Cole a curious look. Odd. The children used to call him that when he was a daycare attendant. Then again, it’s just a nickname, right? Lunar gave him one, too.

He wouldn’t be so bothered by it if Cole didn’t seem so alarmed that he actually responded.

“Yes, Cole?”

Cole startles, at that, giving him a grateful smile. “I um…I wanted to thank you. For...sticking up for me. Or…protecting me? I don’t know. I wanted to thank you either way.”

Eclipse reflects the young man’s smile. “I could say the same for you. You got a lot of guts.”

Cole lets out a laugh. “I don’t know if I’d call it that! Maybe mock confidence? I’m not usually one for confrontation…”

Eclipse leans down, eye-to-eye with Cole. “I hate to break it to you, but I’m not sure you’d be a good fit for ring fighting then.”

Despite how intimidating him being so close to Cole would normally be for anyone else, the boy seems everything but scared. In fact, at the animatronic’s remark, he begins to laugh again. Genuine laughter, tears of joy coming to his eyes that he swipes away once he begins to calm down.

“Maybe you’re right. But I gotta get some money, and this is a pretty effective way to do it quickly.” He explains, and Eclipse leans back at those words.

“What’s the rush? Why not just get a normal job?” He asks. Cole brings up a hand to rub subconsciously at the back of his neck.

“I have one. I gotta be waking up in six hours for it, actually. Money is just…worth less, these days. I want to…” Cole pauses, at that. He remains silent for a few moments, then lets out a breath.

“I want to buy my childhood home before it’s demolished. It’s set to be taken down next summer, and I wanted to buy it so that Amy and I can settle down in a quiet neighborhood. There’s not much around the house anymore, since that side of town has been abandoned for quite some time. It would be great to start a family in, now that all the crime has moved on to places that have more to offer.”

Eclipse catches the slight wobble to Cole’s voice, and he feels a pang of sympathy for him that The Star latches onto, creating a dull pain that urges him to ask more questions. Such a sucker for drama.

“Shouldn’t you have inherited it?”

Cole shakes his head. “My older brother did. He wanted to start a family of his own, so he sold the house because he couldn’t pay for all the repairs it needed.”

Eclipse remains silent, then, in a solemn voice, he asks; “And you can?”

He immediately regrets asking that, because the tears that Cole had been holding back now begin to drip down his face. “No. But I’ll find a way. That's all I have left of my parents. I have to restore it. If not for them, then for the childhood I partially missed out on.”

Without much thought, Eclipse reaches out a hand and carefully lays it onto Cole’s shoulder. A frown is set on his face, listening to the soft sniffles of the young man before him. He shouldn’t have to struggle like this…not at such a young age.

With a joyless laugh, Cole wipes his tears and musters up a sad smile. “Oh, what am I doing? Spilling my life story to someone I barely know- I’m so sorry. None of that should be your problem. Sorry for dumping it on you.”

Eclipse shakes his head. “No. Thank you for telling me. I’m honored you trust me with all that.”

Cole’s smile slowly begins to warm up, but he brings a hand up to playfully punch Eclipse on the shoulder before he allows himself to spill anything else. “Thanks, Clippy. I appreciate it.”

Eclipse opens his mouth to reply, but Cole’s name is called alongside one of the newbies before he can. He gives Cole a simple nod instead, patting him on the back, nudging him towards the entrance to the ring.

“Show ‘em what for, kid.”

Cole gives a firm nod and jogs over to begin his first fight of the night. Eclipse watches him go with a smile.

-

When Cole returns, it’s obvious who won. He only sports a few bruises, while his opponent is covered in cuts and bleeding from his nose. Eclipse can’t help but grin, giving Cole a thumbs up as he crosses the room and settles at Amy’s side once more.

Eclipse then sits down on one of the benches and begins to patiently wait for his own name to be called, nervously keeping track of the time as he does so. He catches Rodger stealing dirty glances at him, but pays no mind to his aggression. He’ll get his revenge in the ring, surely.

It feels like forever before he is finally summoned alongside Rodger, but he knows it’s only been thirty minutes, says the clock in his head. He takes a deep breath and lets it out to calm his nerves, knowing that it’ll do little in the long run. He only hopes that he can keep his temper in check for whatever Rodger tries to throw at him. He can’t lose his cool in front of a crowd.

He gets to his feet and makes his way towards the entrance to the ring, giving a quick wave to the audience as they begin their cheers of excitement once again. The betting board that hangs over the door tells him that this crowd has a lot of confidence in him, and he wonders momentarily what they would do if he let them down. He hasn’t thus far, and doesn’t plan on starting now, but…the other fighters are adapting to his presence, and, thus, getting better at fighting him.

Before he can get himself prepared and situated to start the fight, the bell rings. He stands idly for a moment, brows creased, as if wondering if he had heard it right.

Then Rodger’s fist connects with his back, and he staggers, having been caught off guard by the sudden attack. His hands catch on the cords that run along the edges of the ring, and he can’t help but stay put, frozen, before he feels another fist collide with the back of his neck. It sends a jolt of pain throughout his body, and the instinct to protect himself overrides the fact that this is, in fact, not a truly deadly circumstance.

He ducks under the next blow, grabbing Rodger by the wrist as his arm extends into the place Eclipse just stood. With one sharp tug, Rodger’s face connects with the metal joint of Eclipse’s arm- where the elbow would be, for a person. Eclipse can’t help the wicked smile that crosses his face as his opponent staggers back, holding his nose with one hand, eyes wide and wild with a mixture of different emotions.

Eclipse advances on him before he can recover, just as Rodger had done earlier. He balls his hand into a fist, pulls it back, and throws it full force into the man’s stomach. Rodger doubles over, crumpling to the ground once Eclipse removes his hand. Satisfaction soaks into the animatronic as he watches the wretch tremble pathetically on the floor.

Until he’s not trembling. Until his leg flashes out and, in one swipe, he somehow has Eclipse on the ground.

He pounces on the stunned animatronic before he can even think to react, alarm flashing through his eyes before everything…goes dark. He knows he’s still awake, he can still feel his limbs and hear the whirling of his fans struggling to keep up with his panic, but…

He can’t see.

He lashes out, shoving Rodger off so hard that he hears the man collide with the cords on the other side of the ring. One of his own hands comes up to gingerly brush over the remains of what once was his good eye, horror seizing him as he feels bits of glass fall away beneath his touch. He blinks. Once. Twice. Three times.

Still nothing.

He hears Rodger getting back up again, stiffening as his careless, cocky footsteps slowly make their way towards him. What is he supposed to do? Fight blind?

He makes sure his systems are set to reboot either eye as soon as possible, then carefully stands up. The rush of air is Eclipse’s first sign to move, and he quickly side-steps before Rodger can land the hit.

Eclipse grabs hold of Rodger’s arm and uses the momentum produced by the man’s movement to trip him up. Once he knows his enemy has lost his footing, Eclipse brings his own leg up and shoves his knee into Rodger’s ribcage.

The loud cracks and snaps radiate around the room in a sickening manner, but he can see none of the reactions, nor the damages he has done. He stares blankly downwards, off to the side, not quite towards where he assumes Rodger now lays, but not quite away from him, either. He can feel the oil leak down his own face from his newly blinded eye. All remorse he might’ve felt flees the moment this sensation begins.

The room is silent now that the rush has begun to fade. Not one word is said. No whispers, no gossip, no one making a move to call 911. It is dead silent. It reminds Eclipse of the day he lost himself, lost his job and his mind. How none of the children cried or began to scream.

They were all quiet, for the first time since he began.

Then, the room erupts into cheers. Eclipse lifts his head, soaking in the praise as a way to avoid the guilt that gnaws away at his insides. Yes, he won. That’s what he came for, right? To win?

Why doesn’t winning feel right?

Eclipse’s eye that has so long been his bad one begins to flicker on. The colors of the room are all washed out, the people around him blurred and disfigured, but it’s better than no sight at all.

Rodger lays at his feet, eyes glazed over, mouth still hanging open in what Eclipse assumes is an attempt to scream. Blood leaks out in a pool around him, merely pixelated red dots, like a 64-bit horror game in the eye of his killer.

One of the man’s daggers lays off to the side, soaked in oil from tip to hilt.

Eclipse convinces himself that he had this coming, but he has trouble believing it fully. As he steps away and begins to trail back towards the back room, he hears chatter of nearby patrons, so excited in the face of such carnage. This is what they came for. Not the fighting. Not the thrill of betting who’ll win.

No, they came to see people die. That’s what they’ve always been here for.

Cole is in front of him before this night has even begun to sink in. He has tears streaming down his face, old and new mixing and making him look like a mess.

“I knew he’d pull out a knife, I just knew it!!” He shouts, moving back from Eclipse just long enough to tear his gloves off and slam them down onto one of the benches.

“Cole-“ Amy begins from the background, but Beth lays a hand onto the younger woman’s shoulder as a ‘let him feel this out’ gesture. She does just that, but still seems worried.

Eclipse remains silent, shock forcing his mouth shut. He feels as if his throat is full of oil despite knowing there’s nothing there.

Cole’s hands are clenched into fists at his sides. “You’re not going back out there tonight. No way.”

Eclipse lets out a strangled noise. He brings his hands up to the sides of his face, tugs on his rays, and tries again.

“I have to. I have another fight.” He grits out, slowly lowering his hands once the tugging becomes painful.

“Can you even see?” Cole asks in exasperation.

“Sorta.”

“Sorta isn’t good enough.” Cole snaps, quickly making his way over to his locker.

“What are you doing?” Eclipse asks, voice wavering.

“Putting my shit away. I’m taking you back to wherever you call home.”

Eclipse’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head, waving his hands in a frantic motion.

“No! No, no. You don’t need to do that. I’ll be fine, really. The other guy’s a lot worse, lemme tell ya-“

“Yeah, he’s dead. He would’ve made sure you ended up in his stead, trust me.” Cole tosses his gloves into his locker and pulls out the shirt he came in with, discarding his tattered, blood-stained one in return.

“No, Cole. I’m not leaving.”

The boy stops, letting out a heavy sigh. His hand shakes as he grips his clean clothes, one still loosely holding the locker door open.

That one is shaking, too.

“Why? Why?? He would’ve-“

“Killed me, I know.”

“No, you don’t know!” Cole raises his voice, but it cracks, and Eclipse feels his chest ache again as tears begin to fall down the young man’s face once more. “You don’t know what he’ll do! He’ll kill you and walk away like nothing happened! He’ll be proud of it! He’ll kill again, and again, and again, and he’ll never be held responsible because that’s just part of the sport. But it isn’t! It isn’t part of the sport!”

Eclipse has stood and watched Cole fall apart long enough. Rattled as he is, he steps forwards and wraps his arms around the boy, surprised when he immediately hugs him back and sobs brokenly into his chest.

It’s so…familiar. Familiar in the worst way, holding Cole like this.

“Why do his actions bother you so much?” Eclipse asks with slight hesitance, and Cole sniffles in his arms.

“He’s done a lot of bad things to a lot of good people. I’m glad he’s finally paid for it.”

“Is one of those ‘good people’…you?”

Cole remains silent at that question, and Eclipse is fine with receiving no answer, of which he doesn’t.

It takes what feels like no time at all for Eclipse to be summoned for his second and final fight. He can’t exactly say he’s as ready as he was for the first one- and, honestly, he wasn’t ready for that one, either. However, he soaks up the cheers in place of his own confidence and decides that will do for now.

His stunted stare darts over to the entrance to the back room, giving Cole a reassuring smile despite his own hesitance. It seems to calm him, if only slightly.

He then focuses back onto his opponent, straightening himself out. His shadow falls over them like a wolf over an unsuspecting rabbit, but, judging by their expression, Eclipse knows that their attack won’t be as sudden as Rodger’s was the first time around. The slight tremble to their entire body gives away everything that the animatronic needs to know. Some part of him is baffled that he allowed Rodger to get such a jump on him, as the man was maybe half Eclipse’s size, just as this new challenger is.

He won’t allow himself to be overpowered- not again. Not by a human, a mortal. In their eyes, he could be considered a god. In the place of easily torn flesh is reinforced metal, a core of infinite power hidden just behind it. Hearts ripped from their chests, while his own would scorch the hand of whoever dared try to harm him in such a way.

The shouts behind him are drowned out, the bitterness rising like a tidal wave within him. The poor scrap beneath him takes a single step back, just enough to portray how out of place they truly are here: in the lion’s den, where people like them go to die.

But they laid their life down before him, and who would he be not to accept it?

The grin that had begun to grow on his face twists into a sneer.

He lunges, barrelling into his victim, forcing them down onto the floor of the ring within the blink of an eye. They had no time to react, really, and they were at a disadvantage from the start. This whole fight was unfair from before it even began.

He pulls his fist back, preparing to pummel the practical kid beneath him. In one swift moment, his hand comes down, connecting with the cement floor just beside their small, squishy head. They flinch and let out a small whimper, cowering away from him, but he finds no satisfaction in their fear.

“Be still,” He hisses, slowly moving back to tower above them. More cheers erupt behind him, echoing around the room, and he soaks them up as his challenger falls limp as a corpse. Although there is no blood on their head from the supposed hit, there is still blood from Rodger’s death on Eclipse’s hand, which should look convincing enough.

The praise warms his chest in a far more satisfying manner than anything The Star could provide. He raises a hand into the air, feeling the power of a thousand gods settle within him as the shouts raise in volume and begin a whole other wave of celebration. Celebration, all for him.

He then steps off to the side and grabs hold of his opponent's leg, dragging them out of view of the patrons. Immediately, they sit up, trembling from head to toe.

But Eclipse pays no mind. Instead, he lets out a steady exhale and slowly begins to slip his gloves off, relieved to have finished his final fight for the night. It usually energizes him, to engage in such things, but…the washed out colors in his one barely functioning eye distill any remaining energy he may have.

The gloves come off easily enough. He tosses them onto the floor at the foot of his locker, popping it open after unlocking it to begin changing back to his regular attire.

As he dons his vest, his finger slips into the pocket. The soft crinkle of paper meets his audio receptors, and he winces as he realizes what he’s just touched.

The wrapping paper, from all that time ago. It feels like yesterday, having just started his journey towards what the others have begun to call his “redemption,” but being here is proof of just how little progress he’s made. He knows he’s changed, but…to what length? How much of him is doomed to stay locked in this cycle of madness, always craving just one more victory amidst the defeat of everyone else?

As he finishes straightening out his clothes, he feels sick. Sick of himself, of others, of the world that molded him into something he can no longer break out of. Like a butterfly trapped in a cocoon with just enough room to move, but never enough to fully spread its wings.

“Do you want me to walk you back?”

Eclipse glances over his shoulder, still fixing his cuffs as his dimly lit eye settles onto Cole’s worried figure. It’s odd, turning his head in the direction that he’s grown so used to avoiding.

“No. I’ll be fine, Cole.” The animatronic says lightly, turning away before the pleading look the boy is giving him manages to sway his decision.

“But you’re hurt.”

Why did he have to say it like that? Voice all sad and wobbly and- FUCK, so VULNERABLE.

“I said no, Cole.” Eclipse insists, pulling his claw tips out of his pants pocket to begin realigning them on his hands. “Why does it matter, anyways? Shouldn’t you be scared of me? I killed Rodger. Killed him, no ifs or buts about it. Doesn’t that unsettle you? Aren’t you scared?”

Cole stays silent for a moment. He looks down, away, gaze darkening as if having just been possessed by a shadow.

“I know what Rodger has done. I don’t know much about you, but I do know that you stuck up for me against someone that you knew had weapons. You put yourself aside in order to keep me safe. That tells me that, whatever you are, whatever you’ve done, is redeemable. I’m not scared of someone who was just as much of a victim in that ring as the man that you managed to kill- to end his reign of terror.”

Eclipse…doesn’t know what to say to that. He desperately wishes there was something astounding he could say to make himself look more equipped for a situation such as this, but he’s just as lost as he was when blinded. He remains silent.

“I know I ain’t holdin’ it against you. He raised hell, and by god, it burned him.” Beth cuts in from her seat against the wall, and Amy nods in agreement at the older woman’s side.

Some of the other contestants give quiet nods or begin to whisper amongst themselves, trying to stay out of it as much as possible. Most of them came for a good fight, not to talk about the death of another competitor.

“So…can I walk you home?” Cole repeats, and, much to Eclipse’s dismay, he almost finds himself relenting. Key word being almost.

“No, Cole. It’s…dangerous.”

Cole stares up at him for a few more moments after the rejection, then lets out a heavy sigh that nearly tears the animatronic in two.

“Oka-“

“Fine! You can come, but be quiet and leave at the front doors.” Eclipse cuts in sharply, hating the way his core melts at the grin the boy gives him. With a quick nod, Cole turns to finish tossing aside his fighting gear and give a quick word to his girlfriend, of whom seems immensely worried once she has caught word of his plans.

“He’s a robot! You don’t know what kind of hell-hole he lives in!” Amy hisses under her breath, but Eclipse can hear it clear as a summer day. She isn’t exactly subtle about her more than mild panic, as she waves her arms too and fro like a bird doing a mating dance.

Eclipse finishes attaching his claw-tips and finally deems himself ready to depart from this dreadful night, already stalking towards the exit as Cole gives a quick farewell to Amy before breaking away to trail behind the animatronic.

The first block or two is spent trying to get his bearings, as Eclipse’s limited sight makes it much harder to differentiate where he should be putting his feet. The darkness clashes with the washed out colors in a way that makes it nearly impossible to tell dark sidewalk from dark street. The only guidance he has is the streetlights, which are few and far between on this side of town.

Then Cole begins to hum, tapping Eclipse’s arm whenever the animatronic begins to stray too far into the road. Although the message is subtle and makes no sense to him at first, he catches on before too long.

“You said you live at the plex?” Cole asks quietly after about twenty minutes of walking, earning a conflicted look from his robotic companion.

“Yes. Why?”

“I’ve heard good things about it. What’s your job?”

Eclipse looks away. “I…don’t really have one anymore.”

Cole stops, furrowing his brows as he gazes steadily at Eclipse. The rays click and twist around his head, and he struggles to keep his composure the longer Cole remains silent.

“Anymore?” The boy asks after a long pause, and Eclipse almost winces at the question.

“Just, uh…lost it, a while back. No big deal.” He stutters out, wishing he could find some way to sound more convincing or dignified.

“Why’d you lose it?”

“Enough questions!” Eclipse suddenly snaps, baring his teeth like a frightened animal before beginning to walk again- albeit faster this time around. More of a jog.

Cole catches up with him easily enough, giving him a concerned look that Eclipse can’t bring himself to meet.

“Do you plan on continuing the fights after what happened tonight?” He asks instead, and Eclipse relaxes slightly at the less sensitive subject presented to him.

“I think so, yeah. It’s a good outlet, no matter how toxic it can be.” He explains, and Cole nods understandingly at his side.

“You only do it for the stress-relief, huh? Maybe you should try knitting, instead.”

Eclipse can’t help but bark out a laugh at that, almost doubling over in his fit. He steadies himself before he attempts to talk again.

“I don’t have enough patience for that.”

It’s Cole’s turn to laugh, then, and Eclipse’s face breaks into a soft smile. Something about this kid just…makes him feel at home. Makes him feel…safe. He had almost forgotten what that felt like.

“Fair, fair. Say, maybe you can put in a good word for me? I’ve been trying to get a job at the plex for a while now.” Cole remarks offhandedly, and Eclipse gives a slight pause before his reply.

“Why would you want to work at a place like that?”

Cole looks up and smiles once again at the animatronic. “To pay tribute to an old friend, I guess.”

Both bot and boy fall into a comfortable silence, after that. Their walk is filled with lighthearted jokes the rest of the way back, playful teasing from Eclipse as he lifts Cole over a stray puddle- antics fit for friends, rather than ring rivals.

As they finally stand before the pizza plex’s main entrance, gazing up at its gigantic sign and its large, dim letters, Eclipse can’t help but feel…sad, almost, that he has to say goodbye to the young gentleman at his side. He knows he’ll see him again, but, for once, that reassurance isn’t enough. He doesn’t want Cole to leave at all, because he fears the moment the boy leaves his sight something terrible will happen to him. All the other times this paranoia has spoken to him, it has been right. He’s turned it down every time.

He won’t let it happen again.

“Here-“ Eclipse begins, reaching into his pants. He brings out his wallet from his pocket and grabs a bit of cash, giving it to Cole with a soft, yet intense smile on his face. “Take the bus back. It stops here every hour on the hour, so it should be arriving shortly. Sound good?”

Cole gives him a nod. “Yeah. Thanks a bunch, I was worried about walking back alone.”

“It’s a valid concern to have.”

The two wait for the bus to arrive, and Eclipse looks through his wallet as he waits. He looks through his old cards and notes that remain from his time spent lurking as the deranged killer he once was, and comes to the conclusion that it’s about time he empties out all the things he no longer needs.

Before he does that, though, he pulls more money out and offers it to Cole. He stares at it dumbly for a few moments before slowly trailing his gaze up to Eclipse’s face.

“This is enough for the bus.” The boy says, motioning to the money Eclipse had already given him.

The animatronic shakes his head.

“No. This is for your childhood house. The one you wanted to restore.”

Cole’s eyes widen, and he quickly shakes his head. “I-I could never accept money for-“

“Take it. Make your parents proud, alright? That’ll make it up to me.”

Cole’s mouth snaps shut, and he carefully reaches out for the money as if worried it may simply vanish before his eyes. Eclipse shoves it into Cole’s hand as the bus screeches to a stop beside the sidewalk’s edge.

“Put that away and board before it skedaddles. Catch you later, kid.”

Eclipse playfully ruffles the boy’s hair, and turns to make his way back inside before Cole can even think of trying to return the money to him. He ducks under the shutter as it shakily creaks itself open, then lets it slam back down once he has safely made it inside. His gaze darts over to one of the many windows of the plex, watching vigilantly as Cole stands motionless for a few more moments before shaking himself and rushing off towards the bus.

Eclipse makes his way back to the daycare as the sun begins to peek over the horizon, filling the air with birdsong and the promise of rain later on.

And, just as he’d promised, he makes it back before Blood Moon wakes up. Although, there are a lot of problems he needs to fix before they do actually awaken.

Starting with his shattered eye. Such a pleasant outing.

-

The AO3 link, for anyone with lorge thoughts

[heyclickadee]

On the one hand, Anakin never had a chance. He needed help that the Jedi order, in its prequel iteration, was not equipped to give, and the war made everything worse. His fall is complicated; he made awful, stupid choices well before order 66, but those stupid, awful choices were often encouraged by the people around him and especially by Palpatine, who should not have been allowed to be around little Anakin as much as he was, if at all.

He had a tendency to lash out, yes, but between being a slave and having no control over anything in his life until he was nine, and being told to squash everything unpleasant down afterwards, it’s no wonder he would explode. I actually think the idea of non-attachment is a good one, but non-attachment is difficult, the prequel era order approach to non-attachment had flaws, and they didn’t know how to deal with someone like Anakin, who was introduced to the order older and with some awful life experience, or how to give him the tools to let go. Giving him a padawan with the intention of teaching Anakin how to move on in a healthy way was a good idea on paper; in normal times, Ahsoka would have simply graduated to the next stage of Jedi life and remained a part Anakin’s life, albeit in a different capacity. It might have been healing for Anakin to be part of that. But because of the war, because of how things with Ahsoka actually played out, that sentiment backfired in the worst possible way. It made Anakin cling even more tightly to the people he cared about and distrust the council more than ever.

And this is all besides the effect basically being a walking force nexus surrounded by a hundred metric tons of ambient bad at all times during the war. You know which Anakin line haunts me? “I can still hear the screams,” from the episode where he and Ahsoka are investigating the Jedi temple bombing. Is that what it’s like? Being a Jedi, having access to the force, being a general, and being engulfed in violence and its aftermath all the time? And not having an outlet to deal with it because all the Jedi around you are going through the same thing, so there’s nothing to do but press on? I’m not blaming anyone (besides Palpatine) for Anakin’s actions. He made his own choices, and they were cruel, but damn it if he wasn’t primed to fail. Maybe not as hard as he did, but still.

On the other hand, if Anakin ever appears to Ahsoka as a ghost, if Rex is there, if Rex knows, and if Rex by some chance can see him, I hope the first thing Rex does is pull out his blaster and shoot. Not to hurt Anakin, because he can’t, but to make a point. Anakin was his general and his friend, Anakin was supposed to give a damn, and then Anakin turned around and marched his brothers up the temple steps knowing they had no choice but help him kill everyone inside. Even the children. The elderly. The babies. Because the clones who lived through the temple purge had to live with that, and Rex probably saw what it did to them.

[deathfavor]

@ofcrossroads said: ❛ hold still. this might sting a little. ❜ (Chifuyu to Kazutora)

random assortment of sentence starters

Kazutora gives a low hum in acknowledgement, sparing a brief glance towards the disinfectant and bandages sitting on the counter before looking towards Chifuyu. " Don't worry, I won't move. " He promises. " Thanks for doing this for me. Kinda hard to deal with injuries around my backside by myself. "

Does the battered, scraped wounds hurt? Sure. But tonight is the calmest that Kazutora has felt in ages. It shows in his whole posture, from the relaxed shoulders to the slow, cat-like blinking of golden eyes, to more noise than words. The itch under his skin has been soothed, no longer driving him to wanting to claw out of his own skin like a prison cell. All that's left is something calm and nearly docile. ( Not quite, because docile never quite fits the tiger, but certainly relaxed. ) He lets silence hang in the air before he begins to speak.

" I tried that Muay Thai class being advertised around lately. My therapist said it might be good for me. " Kazutora doesn't often talk much about therapy or what happens there. Sometimes he says if it was good or bad but rarely brings up specifics. Other times its obvious from his mannerism alone, especially the rough sessions. But crammed into the small bathroom with Chifuyu trying to help patch a wound from a fall, he decides to. " Honestly, he was pushing it for a while for me to do something in the martial arts or something like that. He thought it'd be good for me and a healthy outlet. I was just scared to try. " Chifuyu was right, it did sting a bit. He's had far worse though and doesn't bat an eyelash at it. " Just. Given my history and all. " He shrugs and immediately stops when he remembers the order to hold still. His voice however perks up when he continues. " But it was actually really nice! And fun too. "

His gold eyes watch Chifuyu in the mirror, trying to gauge the other's reaction to his words. Like he's searching for approval or disapproval. He's not sure how well Chifuyu will take it. " Given my background and all, I was ahead of a lot of people other than the actual combinations. So I gotta do a lot of that. But the instructors were real chill and so were the people. It felt good. Lots of safety measures in place though things can still happen obviously. " If anything he seems rather proud of it though. " I was thinking I'd stick with it, at least for a while and see how it goes. It's Tuesdays and Thursdays so I'll probably go right after we close, or a few minutes early if that's okay? " He could do a lot of the closing tasks a bit earlier so Chifuyu didn't have to do any at the end.

" And there's a competition in a little over a month that I might enter if I do stick with it. They said I'd probably do really good. You should come. " Kazutora tears his eyes away from the mirror to turn his head to look at Chifuyu in the dim lighting. " I mean, if you're not busy when it's occurring. Or if it interests you. If it doesn't or it's too close to old memories I totally get that though." He rushes out in a quick attempt to offer Chifuyu ways out of the invitation so he doesn't feel he HAS to go just because Kazutora invited him. " Don't wanna bore you on a day off, you deserve that rest " He laughs sheepishly and glances towards the sink. " I just...thought it might be nice? "

[foxgloveinspace]

Foxglove’s big lore round up:

I made this more coherent over here but I like some of the links in this thing so. We’ll Keep It.

I don't know if this makes since, and honestly it's subject to change again at any time. I might even come back to this post this afternoon and ad things I think about. Might do that A Lot Actually.

I have many different thoughts about Sleep Token. On one hand I have a thought process that the Lore is a fantasy story, used to deal with the trauma of loss. And then I have a thought process that its not a fantasy story, that nothing in it states it as such, and that everything is about symbolism. And then I have a very deep part of myself that wonders, considering I am a bit of a witch, if maybe it’s not even completely symbolism. But then that’s just the idea that Vessel is, in some ways, a practitioner.

Lets begin.

I think the albums are released in order, but possibly the order in which Vessel could process the emotions he put into the songs, and not necessarily the order in which things happened, but I don’t want to look into that cause it makes my brain hurt, and I do like to think its a chronological time line.

First off, we have my og theory/thought process, which is that there was no woman who broke Vessel’s heart, and that its all a back and forth conversation between Vessel and Sleep. I don’t think this way anymore, I do think that some of it is a conversation between Sleep and Vessel, but I do think that someone broke Vessel’s heart, but not in the since that they left him, in the since that they died. And in doing so, left behind a very conflicted Vessel.

I have expanded on this theory/thought, to include that I think Vessel is a fallen god, and that Sleep is trying to help him regain godhood. (Or, behind the fantasy, Sleep is his reason to keep going, whether that's Sleep Token, or some form of coping mechanism or even just a muse or creative outlet, and godhood = leaving behind grief/depression).

My lore is that Sleep is genuine in his want to help Vessel (I use he/him pronouns because the one interview Vessel did he used he/him for Sleep. I think this is on purpose, and for some reason it really puts an upset in me when people use she/her pronouns for Sleep.), I think Sleep genuinely wants Vessel to get better, but Vessel is fighting Sleep because he is still in a place where he wants to deny that anything was wrong with the relationship he had with this person before they died. I think Vessel in some way blames himself for this Important Person’s death, and as such, fell out of grief, and moving on means becoming a god again.

I think theres also Some One Else in the songs, someone who is alive, and who he tried to go to as a coping mechanism, probably an unhealthy one. This is the person who he sings about mostly in TPWBYT, I think it’s someone who tried to help him after he attempted to take his own life.

Now for Fantasy, I still think that Vessel was ‘born’ with powers, but I think it’s because he is a fallen god, weather he was born, as in re incarnated, or if he just fell from ‘heaven’/Olyumpus, that's an entirely different story. I could see both.

Sleep recognizes him first, sees how powerful he is, sees that with Vessel’s help Sleep could both become more powerful, and help a fellow god out, and such he goes to Vessel.

I think that the other gods have turned their backs on Vessel for some reason. I think maybe the person he loves was important to the gods in some way, and now they are dead, and so he is shunned. I think it also has something to do with why he fell. Maybe he was pushed.

And so Sleep and Vessel have a hard relationship because Vessel is constantly pushing back against Sleep, not wanting to heal and move on even though it will be good for Both of them.

I do think Sleep is selfish in the since that all gods are, and Vessel as a human now can see it. I also think that Sleep does want Vessel to use his powers more then Vessel is comfortable with, and that’s another thing they argue about.

I still think that some songs are about trust, and Love = Trust still. I still that Sleep is partially sleep, and that Vessel suffers from insomnia. I am very adamant in my thoughts that One - Denial, Two - Anger, Sundowning - Bargaining, TPWBYT - Depression, TMBTE - Acceptance.

I talk to myself in circles about Sleep Token, and the different themes I find every time I listen to an album and Pay Attention. 

Here’s some links,

My og theory if you want to read it, as some of it is relevant to this post, but also not

Themes I hear from each song (I need to update this again cause theres also a lot of themes of survivors guilt, and I also never got into themes of Water.)

Me and Cass talking about God Mother, and who she might be.

My first post about Vessel being a fallen god

(@a-little-lynx is this the right blog to @ now, or do i still @ the other blog? any way I mentioned you in this post and linked to our conversation about God-Mother I hope thats ok??)