#but not because i am awake when this happens

[salemlunaa]

𖥸∘˚YOU ARE MORE POWERFUL THAN YOU KNOW𖥸˚∘

don’t force it, just let go.

There are people who go to sleep in one bedroom apartments and wake up in mansions. There are people who go to sleep with a body or face they hate and wake up with new ones. There are people who go to sleep hating their school life, family and friends and wake up with all of that changed. There are people who go to sleep living a life they dread and wake up with their dreams. Why not you.

You are so much more powerful than you know. You are the operant power of this reality and all the other realities. As I once said, these realities are your children, they are of the same relation to you and the same proximity. It is you running through their veins. You aren’t doing this extravagant thing by creating and shifting timelines to a new reality, you are taking your awareness and placing it in a reality that already exists.

You can leave anytime you want. In fact, top panicking and realise you’ve already left. A lot of you promised to yourselves that you would get your dream life over the break, over the weekend, over night and you panic when you don’t see anything. How many times will you do this? Stop the panic, the outerman isn’t you and sees nothing but limitations. There’s nothing to panic over because it is done and there’s nothing left to do. You wouldn’t be panicked about a cruise trip if you were there.

The words “OMG school starts on monday and i STILL haven’t been on my cruise trip, im so upset i feel like a loser” wouldn’t be uttered if you’re already on the cruise, sipping one of those cute drinks with the tiny hats. So stop panicking about wasted time when you’re already there and there’s nothing to do. Don’t get worked up over nothing, the 3d isn’t real.

All you need to do to induce pure consciousness is focus on the darkness in your eyes, set an intention to induce the state of “I AM” and make up scenarios, count, sing in your head. do whatever. Forget yourself, stop trying to relax, stop forcing it, stop looking for symptoms stop trying to immerse yourself in the feeling and let it happen naturally. You don’t force yourself into the state of awake and asleep so why is it any different with pure consciousness.

∘˚ 𓆸∘˚

Think of yourself being in a pool, there’s two of you. One version of yourself is being let down gently into the water and the other version of yourself is letting you down. Think of a baptism type of position. When you are fully immersed in the water you are pure consciousness, and you will come out of the water as your desired self. But what you must do is let it happen naturally. You can’t push yourself underwater. You can’t drown yourself or the water won’t accept you.

Let yourself down gently. Stop trying to force yourself into pure consciousness, stop forcing the immersion or it won’t accept you. Like how if you force yourself into the state sleep you’ll just sit in bed eyes shut waiting to it to happen. It isn’t until you let go and finally give up trying that you eventually fall into the state of sleep. That’s it. Give up, give up trying and let go. Assume you’re in the water already and before you know it you’re fully immersed in that body of water.

When we say falling into the state of pure consciousness is as easy as breathing, we’re not just trying to motivate you are trick your minds into thinking it’s easy as a form of help. It’s the truth. It’s a state, that’s all it is, just as is sleep and being awake right now, think of how effortless it is to fall into between sleep and wake. That’s all pure consciousness is. Failure to do this does not exist.

You can leave anytime you want and within an instant. Assume you have mastered this simple yet beautiful art and you will have, assume you’re there already and you will be. It takes a second to flip your thoughts and begin. You don’t need a routine or a days worth of affirming or any challenge. If you believe that is a must, you don’t understand what this is.

Go, simply because you can.

YOU CAN do this, why not now? Don’t let your fear of failing and “letting yourself down” allow you to procrastinate, failure doesn’t exist.

YOU ARE YOUR ONLY BLOCKAGE, CHANGE THAT AND LET YOURSELF GO

[0omillo0]

LeeKnow x Anxious! Reader (angst -> comfort)

warnings: mention of throwing up, panic attacks

synopsis: after a long day, Minho comes home exhausted and unintentionally pushes you away during a panic attack, leaving you heartbroken.

⋆˙⟡ — 1,115 words

You had always found comfort in Minho’s arms. No matter how bad your panic attacks got, he was always there, whispering soft reassurances, holding you until you felt safe again. But tonight was different.

Minho had come home late from practice, exhaustion written all over his face. He barely said anything before collapsing onto the bed, his arm lazily draped over you. Within minutes, his slow, steady breathing told you he was already asleep. You didn’t blame him—he worked so hard every day, and he deserved to rest.

But at 4 a.m., your anxiety has prevailed over your sleep. Your world came crashing down.

A nightmare. Vivid and suffocating. You woke up gasping, chest tight, lungs burning. Your hands trembled as you clawed at the sheets, trying to breathe, but the air felt too thick. The panic wrapped around you like a noose.

You barely made it to the bathroom before you threw up.

The sound must have woken Minho, because soon you heard heavy footsteps approaching. Relief washed over you—he would hold you, whisper to you that everything was okay, just like he always did. But instead, his voice was sharp, laced with irritation.

“Y/N… seriously? Again?” He sighed heavily, rubbing his face. “Can you just… come back when you calm down? I’m so tired. I’m done with this right now.”

His words hit harder than a punch to the gut.

Tears blurred your vision as you gripped the edge of the sink, willing yourself not to sob. You nodded, even though he had already turned back to bed, muttering something under his breath.

You felt like you were drowning, and the one person who always pulled you out had just let you go.

You were so scared this would happen. Everyone getting tired of you.

Your hands trembled as you grabbed your phone and sent a quick text to Felix, you knew he would be awake, he always plays videogames late at night.

[4:12 AM] You: r u awake? I need to get out of here.. please

A few seconds later, your phone vibrated.

[4:12 AM] Lix🩵: Door’s open. Come over.

You didn’t hesitate. You grabbed your coat, slipped on your shoes, and left silently.

Felix welcomed you with open arms. The second you stepped inside his apartment, you broke down, body wracking with silent sobs.

“Shh, I got you,” he murmured, holding you tightly.

Seungmin, who shared the apartment with Felix, peeked out from his room, concern evident on his face.

“What happened?” he asked, voice softer than usual.

You wiped at your tears, but they kept coming. “He—he told me to come back when I calm down. He said he was done with me.”

Felix stiffened, then guided you to the couch. “You can stay here as long as you need, okay?”

Seungmin handed you a glass of water, sitting beside you. “You don’t deserve that,” he said simply. “We both care about you, remember that you’re not alone in this.”

The weight of their support made your chest ache, but for the first time tonight, you could breathe again.

Minho woke up to an empty bed.

At first, he reached out instinctively, expecting to feel your warmth. But the sheets were cold. His heart pounded as he sat up, scanning the room.

“Y/N?” he called, but the apartment was silent.

Panic surged through him as he grabbed his phone. Before he could even call you, he saw the messages from Felix.

[5:30 AM] Felix: She’s safe, but she needs space. She’s heartbroken, Minho.

[5:31 AM] Felix: Do better.

Minho felt like the air had been knocked out of him.

He had messed up. Badly.

Guilt settled deep in his bones as he threw on his clothes and rushed to practice, hoping to clear his mind. But he could barely focus. Every movement felt sluggish, his body weighed down by regret.

At one point, he sat on the floor, running his hands through his hair.

“I screwed up,” he admitted.

Chan sat beside him, brows furrowed. “What happened?”

Minho sighed. “She had a panic attack. I was exhausted and told her to come back when she calmed down. She left. Felix texted me this morning saying she’s heartbroken.”

Jisung winced. “Oof. Yeah, that’s bad.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Minho whispered. “I was just so tired. But that’s not an excuse, is it?”

Chan shook his head. “No, it’s not. But you can fix it.”

Minho inhaled deeply. “I have to.”

That night, Minho tried everything to make it better. He know how much you loved his dishes so he prepared a candlelit dinner, soft music playing in the background, a cozy atmosphere. It was his way of saying I’m sorry before he even spoke the words.

He waited anxiously, checking his phone every few minutes. Then, finally, the door opened.

You stepped inside hesitantly, your eyes puffy from crying, even at work. The moment you saw the setup, your breath hitched.

Minho was in front of you in an instant, his hands hovering near your arms, unsure if you’d let him touch you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice raw. “I didn’t mean what I said. I was exhausted, but that doesn’t justify how I treated you. You don’t deserve that. You deserve someone who will always be there, no matter what. And I failed you. You did nothing wrong, I’m so sorry.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you choked out, “You really hurt me, Minho.”

His own eyes watered as he nodded. “I know. And I hate myself for it. But I promise, I will never do that again. Please… give me another chance.”

You didn’t say anything. You just threw yourself into his arms, sobbing into his chest.

He held you tightly, stroking your hair, whispering endless apologies.

After a while, he pulled back slightly, cupping your face. “Let’s eat, okay? You need to take care of yourself.”

You nodded, wiping your tears.

Dinner was quiet but comforting. Every few minutes, Minho reached across the table to hold your hand, as if grounding himself to you.

Later, as you both lay on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, he held you close, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your back.

“I love you,” he murmured against your hair.

You sighed, finally feeling safe again.

“I love you too, Minho.”

@intartaruginha @hannamoon143 @omgsecretsecret @inlovewithstraykids @whoa-jo @madirye062 @vixensss @sseawavee @emilyywhyy @halfwinterhalfuniverse @velvetmoonlght @flourishmoon @hyunjiiza

[gamblersdoll]

┗━━━━━━⊱ 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅’𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏

CHAPTER 1a

you tend to forget you hated hospitals.. but its not like you were there all the time. its actually been several years since you felt a actual bed, smelled the hospital’s deeply cleansed and medicinal remedies that reeks of latex gloves.

you hadnt even awaken yet, but you smelled it.. hence why you were starting to wake up. with a flutter of your eyelashes and a groggy mind, you looked around briefly before—

“oh my god, shes awake!” some girl with brown tresses and big, doe eyes started to shout. but you had to remember her name, because she looked awfully familiar.. was it like.. ochacko or something? if her fingers were visible, then yeah. “how do you feel? are you okay?” all the hurried questions started to aggravate you, but then others started to pile in.

they were all a mix of shock, fear, sorrow, but relief and happiness.

you remember a little bit more, the red hearts had abandoned you. the only ‘family’ that they claimed to be about to abandon their own.. for a bunch of people to abandon you as a highschool student.

“why am i even here..” you softly asked, looking down at what used to be red, bloodied hands.. but now they were clean, back to your color and movable.

“dont you.. remember us?” a yellow haired man piped up, with what seemed to be a zig zag of black across his hair.. denki was his name? he wanted to cry, but he just leaped over to hug you as tight as he could. “oh god, what happened to you?! we’re so sorry, tell us what happened—“

“get the fuck off me.” you snapped, eyes piercing and frantic. it was too.. early? late? you didnt know what time it was, but you know it was too soon to be touching anyone.

oh.

they all seem to be in a sour mood, but some of them were only happy they found you now than later. ironic isnt it? they took seven years to find you, and they think you were ‘saved,’ when in reality— they found you during a raid. no thanks to them, right?

the door opened, what seemed to be detectives and some heroes flooding in— you jumped out the bed to the nearest corner, but the heroes tried to calm you. “hey, its okay! youre not in trouble!”

“the hell are they doing here?” you growled to the chargebolt hero, and he short circuited out of frightened laughter. “fucking idiot—“

“chill out, its fine.” detective yamo— along with what used to be your teacher, aizawa , sigh and aizawa looks to you.. “are you okay?”

“do i look okay?” you snarled, seeing katsuki in the corner of your eye. “does this, look okay to you, hero?” your body seethed with venom.. because what kind of question was that? how could you okay after many years of suffering in the hands of villains, simply because of pure negligence.

“… i understand.” eraserhead says, but you didn’t believe that. “we just wanna make things right with you, and ask a few questions about the red hea—“

“you leave me to die at the hands of the league, and fail to come save me— and im supposed to do you fucks a favor?”

the room falls quiet, the tension becoming heavy and yamo sighs. “what do you prefer us to do?”

“leave me the fuck alone, is what i want—“

“thats off’a the table.” katsuki finally speaks up, eyes meeting yours in an awkward attempt to comfort. “we couldnt save you then, let us save you now.” he finally could get closer to you, trying to put his hand on your shoulder; for you to swat it away and scoff.

you rolled your eyes, biting your lip. “at least let me rest first.. then ill talk.”

“why couldnt we have gone back for her.” katsuki pressed, the hero society having no answer for the previous students of the class. “you all made an effort to get me, but not her?—“

“you also had a choice, dude.” kirishima replied, because he was right. they all had a choice.

“we were fuckin’ children, you doughnut.” he snarked back, and aizawa had enough.

“the timeline of when the kidnapping of you both and the war was too close, and unfortunately— it no longer became a priority. thats all there was to it.” he said, how pitiful. for a teacher, youd expect him to protect his students from all hurt, harm, and danger, right? maybe it were for the students worthy, or for the students who had good quirks…

“what’s gonna happen to her? we just got her back!” ashido— poor girl, she was the only real person who you befriended long ago.

“well,” he started, shifting his prosthetic leg, “it’s going to be a long while before she can finally trust you, or any of us,” he started off strong, considering how it was when he and present mic had to try and get shimo to speak.. “but, either things can happen: she gets charged with murder, and theft, and be locked up—“

“we dont even know if she killed—“ izuku started, but aizawa stopped him.

“or, she may have to go through the rehabilitation process and get the help, thats the favored option.” he finished, rubbing his beard. “especially with her vampiric quirk; though, they suspect that she had some sort of secret relationship with the murders.”

class a falls silent, and katsuki sighs. “il take her in,”

“are you sure? i could help! its my fault that she got left, and i know that youre busy and—“ izuku wanted to intervene, but katsuki thwacked him upside the head.

“no, you idiot!” he shouted, watching as he rubbed his scalp. “i promised her id protect her, and i failed at that, so this is on me.. got it?”

interrogation rooms were something else, you felt like you had been here before.

no lawyer, no pot to piss in, and eyes all over you to see if youd break.

“okay,” yamo started, pulling the chair our and having the back of the chair pressed against his chest. “whos all apart of the red hearts?” he asked, offering you water— of course, you drank.

it had been months since you drank water.. how were you even here?

“they all go by aliases, i dont know their legals.” you deadpanned, and he nodded.

“okay,” he inhaled. “what were the main objectives for the theft?”

“undefined.” you reply monotone, folding your arms and chewing the inside of your cheek. this shit was boring, “they all had their own .. motives i guess?”

“this isnt helping our case, yamo—“ the interning detective spoke up, slamming his hands on the desk and leaning down to your level. “either you tell us what we need and you know, or you can rot—“

“i suggest you back the fuck up off me.” you growled, raising an eyebrow. “im telling you all i know.”

“sit down, yakka.” yamo ordered, pushing the intern down. “sorry, ahem—“ he coughed, his lungs damaged from the heavy smoker he was. “what about the murder portions? were you.. involved?”

“do you think i was?” you press, because they can think what they want.

“well, to be frank—“ he starts, crossing beefy thighs crossed over each other. “it all points back to you—“

“because of my quirk?” you guess, and he had to nod to that. “your coroner must not get paid enough.” you chuckled, the joke flying over their heads. “i only have two fangs.”

“so, you werent eating people?” yakka asked, and yamo had to smack him upside the head, too. “its an honest question!”

“i havent had blood in many years, my old teacher taught me to have discipline.. until i need it.” you remember, aizawa pulling you to his office and reminding you a very important lesson:

people will see your quirk, and assume the worst, only if you respond to it.

“any idea where the red hearts could be?” yamo asked, making sure to note everything. “where are they relocating to?”

“no clue, you saw how they dumped me there?”

yamo nods, sighing through his nose. “okay.. when did you join the red hearts, vampire?” he asked, already making a new nick name.. you hated it, you were more than that—

wait.. were you an equal to him? or was he toying with you?

“when they broke into the league of villains.”

behind the glass, your class was only mortified about your past.. and it only made katsuki more angry at himself, and obligated.

yakka and yamo come from the room, closing the door and signaling katsuki to go in— a swift motion for him.

your eyes meet, and you felt disgusted, disappointed, and confused. it didnt matter, you survived! or.. at least you convince yourself to think.

“hey,” he started, looking down at you and sitting on the table. “so far, yer’ looking at either you get thrown in’a cellar or i rehabilitate you.” he gives you your options, folding his arms. “i want to be able to—“

“you leave me there in the middle of a room alone with villains, and you cant even apologize for it?” you start, eyes piercing at him. “rehabilitation, my ass. thats just a code for you guys cutting me open to see what my insides look like.”

the room falls silent, katsuki turning to look at you with a blank face. and yet, behind the glass, were shocked faces. “no, id take you in, and get you into therapy to become a civilized woman.” he sighs, scratching at his stubble. “im trying to help you, i dont have to do this.”

you scoff and turn your head. “are you trying to be genuine?”

“i wouldnt waste my time, you know that.” katsuki said , but you cut him off.

“i thought youd be some number one hero to save me when we were teenagers, but i was wrong, so i dunno.” you say under your breath, and katsuki has to bite his tongue.

“so what say you.” he asked, leaning down to you, waiting for your answer. “ill take you in, we’ll get you food and you can get help, and you wont go to prison.”

you stare at him, seeing the small wrinkle lines on his forehead, the slight bags under his eyes— you wanted to take his help, but the pain was like no before. you huff, looking away from his face. “no funny shit, dynamight.” you grumble, and he frowned.

he hated you called him by his hero name and not his name.

taglist: @zennypiee @charlotterosea13

[driptillyoudrop]

You are not awake

I've recently come across some literature that indicates people have trouble discerning when they fall asleep.

Individuals given a polysomnogram (a sleep study) couldn't pinpoint the moment they fell asleep during the test, and they often believed themselves to be awake when they were, in fact, sleeping. The test monitors brainwave activity, among many other things, making the moment of "falling" asleep extremely clear...at least for the person administering the test. The person being tested, sleeping, typically finds things to be much more blurry and uncertain.

This isn't much of a surprise to me (or hypnotists in general), since subjects often believe themselves to be quite awake when they first drop into trance. Much like falling asleep, without careful monitoring, the line between wakefulness and trance can be quite blurry. The mind is intriguing like that.

To be fair, though, the indicators of trance aren't always supremely obvious. The moment you slip into trance is often subtle and silent, much like when you enter another state of consciousness while reading or listening to music, driving, dancing. You've been following my words for a bit now, and it probably hasn't yet occurred to you that you are not awake.

You are not awake.

Do you believe me? Consider it; how do you really know when you're falling into trance? It's a bit different for everyone - and you may have learned your own indicators - but how precise can you be? Most of the time, you are told when it happens, or you tell yourself. Sometimes you are counted down to 0, told to sleep, instructed to relax deeply...but these are suggestions to get your conscious caught up to things that are already happening. The drop could have happened at any time, should you be sufficiently distracted. That is rather the point, after all.

You have been focused on my words this entire time, distracted by them. You find it easier to focus now than when you started. Your breathing has slowed, your body has started to relax, and you've been tuning out the rest of the world bit by bit. You remain at least partially aware of your surroundings because you haven't yet been instructed otherwise - there is no need. If you like, you can remain fully aware of your surroundings.

You are not awake, and you haven't been since you started to follow. Part of your mind may have begun to analyze this notion when I first told you, but you aren't going to let it jar you awake. A much stronger part of you knows, intuitively, that I am telling the truth. You came here to submit; it's no surprise that you have.

The part of you silencing the analysis and doubt is excited by the idea that you can feel fully aware and alert while sinking deep into a trance. You can surrender to my suggestions without showing any outward signs that you are enthralled. Only you will know.

You are not awake.

Think to yourself that "it is important to follow and obey. I am really not awake, am I?"

Feel a rush of pleasure simply from doing as you were told. Feel another rush as you realize that despite feeling aware, you are not in control anymore. It feels good to obey. It feels good to let your thoughts give way to my words. You'll continue to obey.

I like to call this a waking trance, despite the fact that you are not "awake." It is very easy to slip in and out of this state when you follow my words. Easy enough that each time you read, "you are not awake," you let yourself slip under my control. You can bring yourself up, then read again and slip back down. Give it a try.

You are not awake.

Feel your hands freeze in place for a moment. Count to ten in your head, nice and slow, and feel the pleasure of obeying along with the bliss of submission. When you reach ten, your hands will return to normal.

If you're feeling particularly brave, you could even follow and obey like this in a public place. Don't worry, you'll be rewarded for following my words whether you submit in public or private. I won't push you into uncomfortable situations.

You'll follow my words through the next sections, and choose your own surrender depending on your preference and circumstances. When you've chosen, you'll be compelled to read again, more slowly to feel a more potent effect.

You are not awake.

Should you choose to surrender to this waking trance in a public place, you'll find yourself compelled to softly mouth or think to yourself "I am not awake. I feel awake, but I am not awake. I am in trance. I am obedient." As you do this, you'll feel a stronger sensation of pleasure and content pass through you. Repeat those phrases to yourself a few more times while maintaining awareness of your surroundings, and continue to learn how easy it is to slip in and out of waking trance simply by focusing on my words. You'll find yourself drawn back to that phrase when you're next in private.

If you are comfortable and would like to intensify that satisfaction from obedience, you'll leave a comment about your experience in waking trance, especially if you chose to try it in public. It is important to follow and obey.

You are not awake.

Like I said, you won't feel obligated to try waking trance in public, unless you are naturally drawn to the thought.

I understand, there is always the allure of the comfort and privacy of home. Trance, even waking trance, can be a very intimate thing.

Should you choose to surrender to this waking trance in private, you'll find yourself unable to resist chanting quietly, "I am not awake. I feel awake, but I am not awake. I am in trance. I am obedient." While the pleasure reward for doing as you were told flows through your mind and body, you will spread your legs and touch yourself for me.

As the chant continues, you'll feel your eyes glaze over as you stare helplessly at the screen. You'll find that you have no control of your own pace, drifting steadily deeper. In private, you'll find it very easy to slip into waking trance, but nowhere near so easy to slip out of it. I'm sure you won't think to mind. It is important to follow and obey. Stroke yourself to orgasm for me as you realize how enthralled you are by my words.

You are not awake. Like, reblog and dm me…

In either scenario, you'll wake shortly after, feeling surprisingly refreshed...and perhaps a bit mischievous.

[bbrainr0t]

For when you flower V

Masterlist

Pairing: Emperor Caracalla x Greek!woman/reader x Emperor Geta

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, hints of PTSD/bad mental health, imbalance in the relationship (sexism, oppression, etc.), toxic, sexual/sensual content, mentions of violence, blood, death, and slavery

Tags: Enemies to lovers (?), slow burn (?), triangle drama/love (but no incest!!), unhealthy/toxic dynamics, slave x masters, no use of y/n, 1st person narrative

Summary: She awakes in the role of being Caracalla's pet, but what does this mean to be this pet and what is expected of her? There is so much to remember for this Hellen, but soon the feelings overwhelm and it seems that gratitude takes on a whole new meaning for her and maybe even for the emperors.

Word count: 3.7K

Dictionary for this chapter:

Hellas = the ancient greek name for ancient greece

I spent the whole evening thinking of Alexandra, watching Caracalla try to entertain himself. He was drunk on wine, so it was an easy job. I was still pained and somehow, he seemed to understand. He petted me lightly and had a separate room made for me, where I got to spend the night. Supervised, I laid afraid.

All night, I could hear moans.

Back in Hellas I never participated in rituals with ecstasy, because I was afraid of what I might do to me. All my life, I had gotten told how it ruined people’s moral compasses, and how they went wild. Men, women, boys, and girls. Some were even killed in the midst of the practice.

Once and only once I accidentally walked near a holy land, where a ritual was taking place. Their moans lured and so I looked. Never had I seen such a sight before. I was conflicted with feelings. There was blood mixed with wine, saliva with seed of life. They were hitting, slapping skin against skin, rolling across the grass like animals. A boy overpowered by men; a woman jumped. But they were enjoying it. I was aroused but filled with fright. I felt a need to join, but I never did. My mother told me to keep my distance.

The cult of Dionysus were people I never got to understand. Celibacy had taken a big part of my life as I was waiting for the hands of Apollo to feast upon me. No other man was allowed. I was kept behind walls like any other young girl of Hellas. The only boy, I had ever talked to, was my brother. He was younger than me, but his dreams were so much bigger than both me and him combined.

We were partners in crime as we would cause trouble around the house. We would misplace our mother’s clothes and pick the pretty flowers from our garden. Everything was right. Each night he would have me tuck him in and kiss him goodnight, just a peck on the cheek. I adored how he would look at me with such light in his eyes. He was the reason I believed the Gods were good - they had given me him.

One day he got the silly idea that he would be a soldier.

I never found out what happened to him, when he was at war, but something had truly changed him. There was no light left in his eyes.

At night when I was about to tuck him to sleep, he began speaking of horrors, but they were none of my understanding. He lost the ability to talk.

I found myself praying for his health every waking hour, but it never helped. Our parents started to blame me for the absence of his well-being. They started calling me names. They asked me questions like: what good am I, if not to help my brother? I was to be the oracle of Apollo after all.

The night before his death, I had tucked him in for the last time. I did not know at the time, but something tells me he did. He smiled at me for the first time in months. He spoke of my name. I was over-joyous.

When I finally fell asleep last night, I dreamt of him. He was smiling.

Then I was awoken by a servant who fed and dressed me like a child. It is as if they are accustomed to treat their masters in such manner. But I did not dare to tell her off as I was afraid of Geta hearing me speak.

It feels like his eyes never left my lips.

I am being summoned to a party – why? I do not know. The servant who told me seemed urgent and so I hurry, afraid that time might be fatal for the outcome of my punishment, if I were to be late. I don’t know what kind of punishment they give their pets, and as of yesterday I’ve decided to live till the day I’ve avenged by brother. I must flower. I must fulfill the prophecy.

Though I am also afraid of what I will meet. Who, I might meet. And what they will put me to - the moans of the night echoing my mind. I ache for peace at heart.

As we reach the doors that I can hear hold back a war of chatter, I get anxious once more. But still, I try to put it aside. All night up until my long-awaited slumber, I thought of all the outcomes. I have nothing to return to back in Hellas - I can only imagine how my home looks today. And so, if I must think of a future, it would be foolish of me to believe the thought, the lie that is “my family is waiting for me to return.” They are not. For that sole reason I must make my efforts last now; I must get close to the emperors so that I can strike them, where it hurts the most.

I could see the burdened’s eyes cry those sapphire tears, the sparrow fail to spread his wings. It hurt, but I am sure, I must succeed. I should not feel bad for them.

I calm myself as I embrace the change of atmosphere. The doors open and I am met with sunlight and song. Beautiful servants all around grabbing at men and women, seducing with their God-given charm. A table full of food and decorated with dead animals in all their lost pride. There’s a light breeze, pushing the delicious smell of wine to my nose. I must not. What is this longing for wine?

Remember my brother’s smile.

I continue to follow the servant as we make it through the crowd. Everybody is busy with each their form of lust, so we glide through smoothly, quickly, thankfully. There is so much life in here that I truly wish not to be a part of. So many deeds that I hope, I only will continue to hear the echoes of in the halls.

Suddenly the servant stops before a clothed table, pointing towards it.

She wants me to go under it.

At first, I am confused, but as I look down at the table, I see a foot slightly poking out. Cautiously, I bend down to slowly remove the cloth to which the foot disappears, scared. I pull my hand back, maybe equally as scared. I take one deep breath as I make my way beneath the table, once again unsure about what, I am about to meet. My heart racing with the beat of the crowd. The temperature rising just well enough, so I feel a small sweat break. I am shaking. But to my surprising, there is an unexpected calm which settles in my heart as I see Caracalla the burdened dressed in his own erratic attire. Messy hair, sleepy eyes, and shaking hands, he is holding around legs, hugging his knees. There are no tears in his eyes, only a biting fear, ill-suited for the occasion.

I had hoped that it was him.

He stares at me, processing, I think, and I just sit and look at him. I must not talk. Caracalla doesn’t move a single bit, but it looks as if his breath slows down. He is regulating himself, and I do the same. His eyes softening by the second as he slowly crawls over to me. “What happened, meus flos?” He looks so concerned. I almost can’t hear him over the crowd.

“…?” I must not talk, so I merely look at him, feeling my eyes lightly flutter. Does he see something I don’t? There was a switch.

He reaches out a hand to go to my throat, and instinctively I flinch, aching my entire being. I hit my head into the table leg behind me. Almost embarrassed, I try to cover it up with a weary smile, but that does not seem to fool him. Another panic grows, confused and fused together with curiosity. I suddenly feel like the one who’s out of her mind, like we’ve switched roles. His eyebrows furrow lightly. “Let me see. Come here.” His voice so soft, astray.

I was wrong, this is not Caracalla the burdened nor the erratic – this is a whole new side to him. What is he doing here? How has he deprived me of all my sense and taken it for himself? A prey and a predator with soft paws and no claws.

Caracalla’s hand reaches my throat and trails a pain all around. His fingers so kind. I look at him and see only worry. The fear is gone as if it never existed. The noise miles away, him so close in body, in mind. I try to pick the pieces together for the puzzle that is him, but I can’t. The same I do for me, but I cannot.

“Who did this to you?” He meets my eyes.

Eyes on my lips. A hand on my throat. The images of yesterday flashing, overruling my reality. Geta’s arm holding me up as if I am nothing, a strength unfit for his figure. An act so fit for his position, but not towards me – a mere nothing compared to him. Hatred, a pure desire in the eyes of a madman. The fire within. He burns.

Caracalla plays along and holds his hand there like Geta - but it’s not the same.

It’s like he dances with the flame, so it tires out. Caracalla knows and so he acknowledges. He might not know the whole truth, but he dares to see the pain which has been inflicted on me. His touch almost healing.

God, I long to be drunk on something.

I feel myself on the verge of eruption. I dare think, I want to tell him, in hopes he will help. Foolish. Remember my brother’s eyes.

“My emperoooor? Ceasar… Caracalla, where are youuu?”

And there I see the burdened return. He removes his hand quickly as he crawls back, further in, underneath the table. Seemingly, he doesn’t know where to put his hands. I yearn for them to be put back on my neck.

The cloth behind me moves as I feel a hand graze my shoulder. I yelp as it drags me out from underneath the cover with such brute force, throwing me up at my feet. Though the world slightly shaken, I am met by a man much taller than I with slobber hung from his lips, his eyes dark with lust, his breath drunk on desire. “You’re not him…”

I stare at him blankly, afraid to move. He seems thoroughly disappointed. At my ancle I feel Caracalla’s fingers nudge me, pulling me carefully to come down again as if he is warning me. The man lets his eyes wander all over me as he licks his lips.

Then I hear them again, see them in his eyes. The bodies from the cult all intertwining in a mess of ecstasy. It’s lust, a feeling so raw and vicious known for tearing even the best of man to his knees, to atoms. It’s a feeling that does not mirror in me yet something my curiosity won’t let me settle about. I feel repulsive and even more when admitting to myself that I am curious to hear this man’s thoughts - to figure out the mysteries of the Dionysus cult.

Caracalla nudges me once more, this time a bit more like a yank at my sandal.

“I haven’t seen you here before…” The man inspects my entire being inch by inch with a heavy gaze, seemingly finding an interest at my throat. I can only imagine what he must think. He talks some more from which I only understand a few of the words. “Let me see …, won’t you, …?” His hand reaches out for me to take while a grin spreads on his face, wine having colored his teeth red. It’s first now I notice the smell of opium that this man reeks of.

I blink. There is such a strong want inside my heart intertwining with my logical reasoning. For a moment I see him not as a man but as a ticket to the bottle, even if it just is a small drop. I long for the numbness. Have I lost my moral compass already?

“Quintus.” Another speaks.

Saved by chance, perhaps. I correct my back and look towards the voice.

“Emperor Geta!”

The sparrow wears new clothes but still the crown. “For how many times must I remind you not to attend these events?” Geta’s voice is stern.

“Well this servant-“

“Out.” He doesn’t let him finish. It’s not only a warning. Geta waves over some guards and they arrive swiftly.

They grab at Quintus and try to pull him away, but he gives them a fight. He dares to throw a punch, making one of the guards drop his helmet. A little victory, yet it is to no effort for his apparent escape, because four more guards gather up close. He fights until he is knocked out. A guard smashing his staff to his head, blood splattering from nose in front of and on Geta and I.

Solely, I stand shocked, perhaps even more scared. I seem to be watching it all happen before me, but I struggle to apprehend the reality. Dissociated. I feel as if I take blame of this man’s struggle. I blink again.

Geta stands unbothered, wiping the blood off as if it was dirt. However as soon as the man is out of the room, he switches just as Caracalla did just before. A puzzle piece unfit for the big picture of the emperors. “Where’s my brother?”

For a second I see myself reflect in his eyes. Reflect in him. Foolish. Perhaps I should ask, where is my brother, tyrant?

“Please.” It’s only a whisper.

The whole image I had put for Geta in shambles right in front me. I see how he wishes to have the courage to cover it by how it looks to pain him to say that word to me, to the woman he had threatened the night before. I see how the wine has settled between his lips and left its mark. Is this him without sense?

I point to the cloth, covering the table. I notice how Caracalla’s hand still lingers at my feet, his rings cold on my skin. I don’t want them to move away, but I see Geta and the ticket to the senselessness. Geta, the worried.

I might not understand him, but I think I understand this worry.

My brother dead in the sea. My own voice repeating in my head, praying: Hades, please lead him safely into death and let his soul perish but beautifully, carefully into your hands. The cold coin in his mouth, tugged under his tongue.

His gorgeous, gorgeous smile.

Geta pulls his brother out from underneath the table, both looking disarranged, but it’s not long before the sparrow puffs his feathers, his responsible-brother gown. They talk briefly, quietly, so that the crowd steal their words and throws them around. The only words I hear is Geta, speaking to me in my tongue: “Take him to his chamber.”

“Why are you speaking that language, brother? You know, I don’t understand.” Caracalla marks.

“Do not worry.”

I nod at Geta. Maybe out of fright or perhaps of a mutual understanding. The man who had me at the brink of death just yesterday now barely feels like a memory, more of a nightmare. A distorted depiction of the reality before me. I must not forget how he pained me. But… oh, how I understand. I am split in two.

I want to hate them so bad. I do; I must do. The Gods knows I must.

Caracalla looks at me with eyes so trusting. A fragile and troubled soul trapped behind a fancy façade. A will so unwilling. He holds my hand and walks off, dragging me along. Geta gaze follows yet he is frozen in place. A parade of pride waiting for him to perform before the party, I am sure. Intoxicated, incompetent of his role, I am sure.

But he stays, loyal to his duty, and here I hold Caracalla, incapable of the duty.

The Gods must know this empathy is only human. My brother must. Alexandra must.

What would they have done? I do not know. I am only human after all. Please, Apollo, bear over with my own fragile soul.

We make our way to Caracalla’s chambers. His eyes daring only to remove themselves from me to look ahead, to find his way. I try to take mental notes where and when to turn. He seems curious of my thoughts, but I know to not tell. I only wonder how it might shamble him to hear them, the truth of how I wish to be gone, and how I wish not to forget. Too much is already disappearing from my head.

My brother’s smile.

“Do you like wine?”

I look at him. I think I must not, I mustn’t. It will do no good for my mind, for my conscious. My guard will be gone; who knows what might happen?

The Gods know that I want to do well, when I nod.

I’ve had enough of these thoughts.

Caracalla calls over servants, handing me a glass as we enter through the ports of his chambers. The red poured almost to the top; they’ve been accustomed to do such. The drink of the Gods, I think, it must be good for something. Is it not?

I take a sip. Two. I can’t get enough of the taste that touches my tongue, the way it tingles as it goes down my throat. I feel it warm almost instantly, much more than the sun preying from outside. I feel Caracalla watching intensely as I do. His eyes on my lips. He takes a sip or two as well. He watches my lips just as his brother did - with such pleasure.

I calm my nerves with another sip or two, and it seems to spark a laugh for Caracalla.

“Careful now, meus flos! So eager…” He giggles and shakes his head. It’s like his earrings play a sweet symphony, glowing in the light of day. Playfully, they call to me. Caracalla says my name as he walks towards his bed, patting on the silk for me to sit.

My heart is beating so fast, yet my head is not flooded with thoughts. The sweet, sweet symphony flowing in my blood. I sit. “Good girl.” He praises me as his pet, flashing his golden tooth.

Those words do something to me. My cheeks heat. He chuckles and takes another sip. I watch how his finger holds the glass so delicately yet so possessively. How they grasp the neck softly, not letting go.

I go to take another sip, but before the sweet liquid reaches my mouth, he snatches it from me. I yelp, trying to get it back, making him hastily remove his hand from out of my reach. He laughs and drinks the rest. “You have to make yourself deserving of this drink, meus flos.”

He’s messing with my insides.

“Lay down.”

And I do so, my head on the pillow.

Caracalla puts down the glasses and crawls over to me, lowering himself to lay his head on my stomach. A feeling so odd crawling beneath my skin. Usually, my nerves would be alarmed, infected with filth, but I cannot deny this feeling that his touch feels good.

His hands crawling on the side of my legs, caressing and feeling on top of the fabric. The warmth of his touch and the wine keeping me from hesitating, from being frozen. Curiously, I let my fingers linger in his hair, watching as his entire body tenses but then relaxes. God, his hair is so soft beneath my touch. I take a joy in petting his hair, twirling it in between my fingers and pinching the ends. Sensation after sensation as his own hands wander from my hips to my waist, feeling the curves almost a bit too carefully, inspecting my body.

I notice a pit in my stomach that I never knew I had.

It’s like he inhales me as he breathes at a pace I haven’t seen before. It’s heavy as if he barely carries the heavy weight of it, so slow as if he is afraid of seeing the end of the next minute to come. I copy this manner and feel how our bodies flow into one, feel how his hair entwines and melts. I melt beneath his weight.

He starts banging his fingers to my side as if they were drums, tickling me to the point where I jolt - I feel a giggle escape my lips.

“no-“ A word escapes as well. I stop completely. Fright replacing every nice thought fluttering in the depths of my stomach.

But Caracalla looks up at me with such delight. Light shining from his eyes, endearing to look at. His smile is so wide, so bright, and pretty. It looks so pure. “I knew you could talk.” His voice like grains of sand falling through a strainer. Raw but so delicate. “I’ve thought of your voice from that night, every night.”

I blush. He chuckles once more.

“Keep it safe for me. I want it to be mine to hear. And mine alone.” The words are so sour but coated so sweet. There are sparkles all over the sea within the blue orbs. The alcohol starting to numb even further.

“Now. Hold me as I sleep.” He nods. “Will you do that for me, meus flos?”

I nod.

“Will you?”

“Yes.” I answer, quietly.

He smiles satisfied and lays his head back down, humming a joyous melody. My hands getting lost within his goldish locks.

A part of me feels as if I should be alarmed, warned even, remembering the harsh touch, the peeking which the sparrow threatened me with, but I do not. And I know, I shouldn’t take pleasure in this moment, but the Gods know. They know how a human must have its flaws. It’s how they intended it to be. Is it not?

I fear this new feeling in my stomach is far from done.

A/N: Okay... it's getting there guys... the tension. I am a bit nervous about this chapter, so I hope it's for your liking :,) Please do give me feedback as it helps me and motivates me! Any like, comment or question will do - it is all very welcome!! And I quite enjoy answering them/hearing your thoughts!!

Next chapter: 23rd of February (?)

Taglist: @syraxnyra, @omg-hellgirl, @t6gse370, @duckyhowls, @littlemissholy, @naysha140, @lover-rep-fanfic

[ruins-of-tragedy]

Finished RWBY's season two with episodes ten to twelve... I am nervous, but also cautiously optimistic about the rest to come.

Season 02, Episode 10: Mountain Glenn

- "Our enemies... are gathering."

- Ironwood is gazing menacingly out into the distance. Glynda's there for him... To trust Ozpin or not to trust him, that is James' dilemma.

- Ruby is keeping watch. Everyone else is sleeping. Where be Zwei?

- I was wrong. The rest of the team is awake too. Yang and Blake are still wondering why Oobleck asked them about being huntresses. Weiss is not asleep because Blake and Yang are talking. 😂. Sure, that's why.

- So, Ice Queen knows the gray moral area the Schnee company operates from. Especially after her father took the helm. And she needs to make things right as a result... "My father was not the start of our name, and I refuse to let him be the end of it." 👏🏻✨🤌🏻

- Blake is talking about Adam. He was more of a mentor. Shikes. Someone needs to die. That aside, I really like how they have managed to use the bonfire's light to show his symbol on the ceiling. Almost like he is still haunting the place Blake is at... Huntsman and huntresses, regarded as the most noble warriors. Always stand for good. So she became it. Still confused about how to combat all the hate though. These ladies are just teenagers. Fucking hell.

- Yang believes in her. Blake isn't so sure about how she will figure things out... Awww. Sometimes running is the best thing you can do. As for what happened when the Team realised she was a Faunus; yeah, she ran away. But then she ran towards the problem too.

- Adam sounds like a very sick monster whom people should lock behind bars. Falling back does not equal being a coward. Tactical retreats are valid strategies... Her semblance sounds pretty sound in this regard. Nice one too! Can be used in many different ways.

- Yang has nothing that drives her. Going with the flow. She wants to be a huntress for the adventure. An unpredictable life. She be not like Ruby, who always knew what she wanted her path to look like. Even before she could fight. Hmmm.

- "...We are all kids." THANK YOU BLAKE!!!!

- It's not a life, it's a job. Yes... Hah! So I was right. It be true. Romanticising anything only works so long. Reality checks hurt, still are necessary.

- "But at the end of the day, it's a job to protect the people. And whatever we want will have to come second." Weiss is right on the money.

- Oobleck's smiling proudly over their newfound revelation. Basically, everyone's awake but Ruby now. Where is Zwei?!?

- I SEE HIM!!! Zwei ran off... To pee. 😆

- And that's how Ruby found the bad folks. Because Zwei really couldn't understand this place is a Wasteland and he could pee anywhere. Good boy!!!

- Ruby is following them now. Alone. I guess this is happening. Zwei is following Ruby. Fuck.

- "One bark means yes." ADORABLE!!!

- Ruby's scroll has no signal. I have a bad feeling... Yup. The ground under her has given up. Crescent Rose is not in the hole. Zwei and Ruby might be though.

- So not Zwei. But definitely Ruby. Shite.

- Into the undercity and outside the entrance of the bad people. This is fine. 👍🏻

- Ruby has realised she doesn't have Crescent Rose on her. Time for hand to hand combat... Ruby is out like a light. The fuck.

- Yang probably didn't realise she also had to keep watch on her sister, while keeping watch for any Grimm that might come for them.

- Zwei came running back to the base. Oobleck has a good guess of what's happening. Am scared.

- Ruby is being dragged to the boss. Now awake and observing stuff. And here we have Roman.

- Team RWBY sans their leader and with Oobleck have arrived at the hole. Oobleck's realising stuff. And monologuing almost. Zwei licks him for it. 🫶🏻

- Underground crime network. Pun intended. 😆

- It's a graveyard. People died there while trying to escape the Grimm above, only to be attacked by the ones below... Holy hell. Things are serious enough for Oobleck to take out HIS weapon. Good Gods.

- Sinister music.

- Torchwick fanart! 💖

Season 02, Episode 11: No Brakes

- "Now it's time to say goodbye."

- Fucking Roman. Crescent Rose is not a gardening tool... You know what, sure. Let's call it that. This fucker got beat by a fucking gardening tool. Fucking embarassment.

- White Fang guy? Perry the White Fang guy?! 😂

- There's an earthquake. Ahhh, it's just Oobleck and the rest of Team RWBY.

- Bad folks not caring about the consequences of unfinished models. Classic.

- Oh Gods. Ruby is being shot at. She hasn't been hurt! YAYYYYYY!!!

- Thank Gods for good teammates.

- The train's leaving the station. Torchwick has turned into the commentary guy for it. Good for him. He should start looking into alternate vocations.

- Sealed tunnels have been reopened. Good guys need backup. No signal yet again. Always the worst timing. Such relatable content.

- Team RWBY will now stop a running train. They really are doing it all. ❤️‍🔥

- Torchwick is aware of their arrival now. And learning workplace manners... 😆

- Weiss calls Oobleck Professor. They discover a bomb. Also, baddies are coming to them now. Things are going really well.

- From one caboose to another. Automatic decoupling of one. Every compartment has a bomb now. Huh. Why?

- The fight has begun with a wink from Yang. ✨🤌🏻. Slam, slash, ice splash, and a nice dash.

- Underground Grimm alert! Like they already didn't have enough problems. "Oh dear," is right Oobleck.

- Ohhhh. The plan is to get Grimm to the city. Bad guys being bad. Ugh. Great timing too, honestly. Many students are out and about with hunters and huntresses of great regard on missions.

- Ruby stole Oobleck's thunder. LoLLL!

- Weiss, Blake and Yang must take care of the bombs. Zwei, Ruby and Oobleck will stop the train. Megazords don't want that to happen.

- Doctor's weapon has a coffee mug attached?! That has coffee in it?!!! And now Zwei is turning into a cannonball that Oobleck hit like a baseball. 🤯. What breed is this little pupper??!?

- One Megazord down, another has been destroyed by the Doc. I knew it!!! He is also good at wielding weapons. Good on him!

- Weiss handed Blake coloured gun magazines. Rainbow bullets?

- Neo is back. Yang vs umbrella lady. Ooooooh!

- Man, this girl is small. Yang is towering over her... And having a hard time landing a hit. The fight choreography is nice though!

- Weiss and Blake are splitting up now. White Fang guy with chainsaw is Weiss' opponent.

- I do like how every member who broke off did something to ensure the perpetrator in that cabin stayed with them, and let the others pass through. Many shows and movies don't get this right.

- It's Torchwick vs Blake. Whoa.

- Her semblance is amazing!!! And the elemental attribute added to the image of Blake left behind must be Weiss' contribution. Oooooooh! That's what them colourful bullets must have been for. NOICE!

- Roman down. Is he actually trying to get Blake on his side?! WoWie. Some nerve.

- Weiss is making forcefields, doing acrobatics and giving the guy hell. Oh my Gods. Glyph combo attack! Oh no. She has been caught.

- Panned to Yang. Who is also not having a great time. Shite.

- Blake just kicked Roman who got a mental shot in. At least he is asleep now. Weiss has entered her cabin and isn't doing too good. Blake has her now.

- Yang is lying on the ground. Neo has a blade and isn't afraid to use it. Fucking... Oh thank GODS. Someone's here. Looks badass too... It's Yang's bio mom, isn't it. Neo actually looked scared and ran off. Huh.

- This lady can create portals?!? Yang is waking up, and caught a glimpse of the woman before she left.

- More Megazord fighting for Oobleck and Ruby. Another one down!

- Ruby has been asked to go on ahead. Oobleck will take care of the incoming Megazords. Zwei will take care of the Doc. CUTTTEEEE!!!

- Team RWBY is together now and in one piece. YAYYYYYY!!! Vale station is fast approaching. Ruby and Weiss share a look. Ooooooh?

- Cabin full of ice!!! Big crash... Did it work?

- Nope. Grimm are now terrorising the city. Ruby is worried. And now determined...

- Music has me preparing for a lot more to come. Much chipper!

- Voice actors of Team RWBY and flipped animated Team RWBY fanart! 💖

Season 02, Episode 12: Breach

- "All the time seemed to fly..."

- Opening with Jaune's snoring. He still wears his nighttime onesie and is dreaming of waffles. LoLLL!

- Ruby's call turned to static. Ooooof.

- I love how much confidence Team JNPR has for RWBY, but they need you!

- Thank Gods Jaune has a feeling that it's more than a button dial... Cue alaram bells blaring. YAYYYYYY! They are changing missions! Awww! It was sweet of Jaune to let Ren know they would visit the village for a different mission.

- Cinder and co watched Team JNPR fly back. And now she knows what Torchwick did. Things are about to get worse, aren't they.

- Army of Grimm against four teenagers. Hooo boy.

- Badass hunstwoman fighting badassedly!!! And thank Gods for Team JNPR!!!

- LoLL! Jaune is the only one in his team who doesn't have great speed?

- Jaune: "Who's first?" / Ursa Grimm: "You Jaune-y boy." /// Come on Jaune! You got this!!! Awwww! Pyrrha looked on and Jaune did it!!!

- Sun and Neptune are here now! For comic relief apparently. They have nice badges I guess.

- Big ship, and smaller ships incoming. Ironwood? Yup! His android army anyway.

- Cinder, Emerald and Mercury are helping taking down the Grimm... Oh no.

- I like Emerald's gun/slash/boomerang-like-nunchucks.

- Bad guy Megazord is waking up...

- So are Oobleck and... ZWEI!!!! He just headbutted a Grimm. Amazing!!!

- Team CFVY is also entering the battle. With Professor Port!

- New song. It's so GOOOOOOOOD!!! Makes me want to join them.

- Velvet's team be extremely badass as well. COOOOOOOOL!

- Did this lady just use a bejeweled handbag to bring down a Grimm?!? WoWie. Velvet's team really be blowing my right now. One guy tore through concrete and Grimm with his sword. The other made a big burst and the bones from it took down the rest around... 🤌🏻✨👏🏻

- This is their song. It's called Caffeine. ❤️‍🔥

- The bejeweled bag can turn into a monstrous missile gun. 👏🏻🫶🏻🤌🏻

- Doctor Oobleck and Professor Port nodded at one another. I ship them... And now they are blasting Grimm too. 😎

- Professor Glynda's here! And flicked the Grimm coming at her from behind without even looking back... ✨❤️‍🔥

- She is doing them repairs now. Glynda is the only one holding Vale's economy together, I feel. Especially when destruction of property is concerned.

- Mercury and Emerald are with Torchwick. Of course. Roman has learned error of his ways. Sure.

- Now, the good guys plus Emerald and Mercury are gathering and nodding at one another.

- It's a nice sky, Team RWBY and Zwei are sitting together. Weiss wants extra credit for this. 😆. But much havoc was caused, not everything has been solved, people got hurt, there are more questions than answers...

- Weiss points out not everything has a neat and tidy ending. True.

- "We might not have all of the answers, but we do have a lot of dangerous people behind bars. And I that's something we can be proud of." - Blake. Is this character development? ✨

- Yang and Zwei are lying down. Tournament training is covered. Time to sleep!!!

- Councilmen, Ozpin, and Ironwood in a meeting. General Ironwood is going to be head of security. Ahhh. Well, good luck to him. He will definitely need it.

- Ozpin's position at Beacon is in danger. Due to Ironwood's reports... WoWie. This forker has the audacity to ask for Ozpin's trust... How cute.

- "You brought this on yourself." - General Ironwood.

And you are about to bring what will go down soon, on YOURSELF.

- James vs Torchwick. The former has custody of the latter. Great. This will go nowhere.

- Cinder considers this a success. Mercury is saying many Faunus folks didn't make it out of the tunnels. Shite. And of course their only concern is if the White Fang will still help them.

- Adam. This jackarse. Now lending his influence over the White Fang to Cinder and co. Fucking hell.

- Lie Ren is voiced by Monty Oum himself?!?! ✨🫶🏻

- This song is WHOA. Very, crime investigation sort-of thing. The lyrics are making me want to rebel though...

- They are thanking many families in the credits. That's so sweet! Cats and dogs and pugs now too. 🥹. And a giraffe named Gideon. COOOOOOOOL!

- Another endcredits scene! Yang. Walking around Beacon at night. The lady who saved her is here?

- Good Gods. Yang's mum looks just like her, but with red eyes and black hair... They have a lot to talk about. Shikes.

- I liked the chimes like music in the background, while their confrontation happened. Much mystique.

- Volume three of RWBY, save me. Save me volume three of RWBY... It won't. I know. This is where it all begins. Fuck.

(No spoilers. Or I shall haunt your nightmares and turn your daydreams into them. Bye-bye!)

[darqx]

On the plus side, nothing has replied to me yet, which I am taking as a win.

[dawnthefluffyduck]

Crazy issues that come up when a character is written a little too well

[psychiatricwarfare]

i wish i could know everything. like, sure, it might break my brain but im just so curious about everything and how everything works down to mircoscopic and macroscopic levels. i want to know the history of every culture, every historical figure, every poet, everyone whos ever made a footprint in the sand. i want to understand the combination of chemicals and electric pulses throughout a brain that make up what a consciousness is and what it means to be a self aware animal. i want to dive into a black hole and come back unscathed. i want to die and come back. i want to feel everything and learn everything there is to possibly know. i want to understand the secrets of the universe and i will never have enough time. i will never be able to know absolutely everything and it kills me. i just want to understand

[elisedonut]

idk what it is about Perclin that makes me crave those

Like

hopeful "Promise?"

"Promise."

Type conversions but it seems to not matter what scenario I'm thinking about for them they're having that sort of conversation at some point

[fitzselfships]

Wow I love waking up and my brain immediately attacking me with Zooble wouldn't love you /Heavy sarcasm

[icewindandboringhorror]

Various images of things

[hoybero]

i think i need a switch in my brain to turn off thoughts about dracula(specifically renfield) because if i start thinking about it my brain literally recounts every single bit of information i know like im going through a wikipedia page and it WILL NOT STOP. no matter what. renfield i love you but GO AWAY IM TRYING TO SLEEEEEPPPPP

[silverselfshippingchaos]

I had a dream where a 3rd J.udgment game was announced and M.ine showed up for one split second in the reveal trailer with this super hot evil smirk on his face and Twitter was going batshit crazy over it

Then I woke up and got really disappointed

[goblin-enjoyer]

I swear why are half the things i like/fandoms im in made of mostly younger people while the other half are mostly older people? what are the zoggin odds with that?

How it feels being 20 in a fandom with a bunch of 30-40 somethings.

VS how it feels being 20 in a fandom with a bunch of 14-17 somethings.

like am do i just have extremely odd luck with things i like or is this just what being 20 is like?

[sherlock-is-ace]

.