#i know i watched volume 7 but couldn't bring myself to care much

[sorenlionheart]

i will not watch rwby x justice league i will not watch rwby x justice league i will not watch rwby x justice league

[silverxxxxxxxsprings]

Don't Say Goodnight | a one shot story by yd (finished)

The breeze is especially cold tonight because of the heavy rain. I leaned into the window of my seat on the bus and watched the raindrops tracing all the way down. It was another exhausting day at school. These days, especially, finals week - exams and requirements are piling here and there. It looks like I haven't slept in days because I haven't, well barely.

In the city, the days go by so fast. School is fast-paced, everyone is following a routine. There's always schedules and alarms and everything feels so mundane. It's a job to catch up to the haste. I only had two exams today but I stayed in a cafe to study and finish a paper. I had to do a lot of revisions because one of my group mates got hospitalized last week. I didn’t mind doing his part, but it made everything more overwhelming on top of my own workload. Although it would've been easier to message the rest of them for help, even interacting with people felt so exhausting, so I ended up doing everything myself.

Commuting is the final nail to the coffin. Living an hour away from school takes so much of your energy and time. I couldn't care less about time because I'm an early riser, but my energy everyday I wake up is charged less than a hundred percent, not even fifty. Well at least my phone is. I was so done for the day that when I got home, I dropped to the floor immediately. I didn't even make it to bed. This has happened a lot these past few weeks. I go home exhausted but I still manage to wash up and get ready for bed. On days I am too drained, I only wash my face and sleep on the floor with my outside clothes when changing is too tiring to do.

But today, I am especially dead bat. I couldn't bring myself to get up and wash my face. Perhaps it's the weather. It hasn't rained in the city for months. It's a cold night, probably why my eyes are so heavy. My body is equally as heavy, so is my mind. Everything is so weighted and my anxiety is on the roof. I still have a lot of submissions to complete, exams to review for, plus I'm working part time over the weekend. The day I die is the day I get full sleep, an eternal rest. God, a girl can only wish.

I looked up at the snapping fingers in front of my face. The guy looks familiar. I know his face so well. He's waving at me now as if catching my attention, as if he hasn't gotten it already. But as if someone had hit the play button, I started hearing a familiar melody. A Plug in Stereo song is playing mid duration.

~With your hand in mine, we can touch the satellites

Two stars on the run, don't say goodnight~

I realized it's coming from my wired earphones and I have been listening to my playlist for hours. I always disassociate whenever the world is muted from me that I tend to forget my physical being is still on earth. The guy is mouthing words at me now. I finally removed my earphones though I could still hear the music coming from it. It must've been on full volume. The guy is still talking but I couldn't make out the words he's saying. It's like I've woken from a deep sleep and still disoriented. I looked around and the sky is in hues of purple and pink, the sunset in its finale. The guy is still talking, something about a parasitology case study. He's my classmate, I figured. But why don't I know his name? I'm not entirely extroverted but I know everyone in my class even the least I interacted with. We are outside 7/11 just outside the campus. We're still in school uniforms but we are the only people here, kinda unusual for this time of the day.

He's talking about the final exams now. As he gestured the word "a looot" with his arms stretching out, he accidentally knocked over the coffee cup at the table, spilling some of its content on my resting arm. I can't even remember if it's mine or his. Smoke is visible from the black liquid, now realizing it's his because I don't drink black coffee, but it isn't burning on my arm. Sure I flinched, because I thought it would be hot.

"I'm so sorry," the guy immediately picked up the cup and tried to clean the mess, but my mind is still in haywire. Could this be, could I be…?

"God, I really should control my caffeine intake now and actually get some sleep." I still couldn't make out his familiar face even though I know for sure who he is. He's panicking now, and I'm lightheaded. There are no other people. It doesn't make sense because this is always packed with students after dismissals, literally everyday. The only lights that are on are the ones coming from the convenience store and the nearby streetlight. But it's dark now, the hues are gone and it's pitch black, the darkness stretched out to the horizons. The only person here with me is someone familiar but nameless.

"I'm sorry about your notebo–”

"This is a dream," I said out loud to myself but the guy was caught off guard, immediately looking around. When I looked at him, he was staring seriously deep into my eyes which made me even more confused.

"This is a dream," I said once again, now talking to him.

"You aren't supposed to say that. Not out loud, at least.”

"It feels so real. It's like I'm conscious."

"That's because you're lucid dreaming. State of consciousness.”

"That's weird, I haven't done this before. How- Why-”

"Hey, it's okay. It's really weird the first time.”

"So you're a real person too? How is this even possible? What's your name? How did you know the first time?”

"Well for one, I do have a physical body. I don't know how it's possible but then again this is a dream so anything could be possible, and that's how you know you're dreaming.”

"I don't understand."

He leaned a bit closer and gestured to my right. There I saw our reflection on the 7/11 glass wall. He started explaining again.

"Think of anything you would've worn instead of a boring school uniform. Go ahead, anything. Then visualize yourself wearing that."

For some reason, I was just following his instructions and imagined myself wearing my favorite corduroy jeans and Rosita Espinosa t-shirt. Somehow, gone are the plain white uniforms. My face lit up in excitement. This is so cool!

"We- You can do anything you want from here. But remember, try not to talk to the others especially when you know you're in a dream. And that we don't have names, we just don't.”

"How did you know these rules?"

"It's kind of a universal thing. Anyway, what do you want to do? you're not gonna be studying even in your dreams, are you? You can be anything here, you can do anything."

As if I'm being provoked, I started visualizing places I wanted to be at. At the rooftop of the highest building in the city, in the middle of an empty highway, at the Dean's office out of curiosity, at the top of a ferris wheel of an empty fun fair.

"As much as I'm benefitting from your level of excitement, this is an incredibly high spot to be in right now." he says, chuckling nervously beside me. I suddenly remember the guy is still with me in a two-seater ferris wheel ride. The ferris wheel creaks as it carries us higher, the entire fairground shrinking below us. We are basically on the highest ground now.

I glance over at him, about to tease him for sounding scared, but something catches my eye. As he grips the edge of the seat, I notice something odd—a thin white band peeking out from under his sweater, like a hospital bracelet. I blink, and it’s gone, replaced by a watch. Must be a weird glitch, I think, shaking it off.

"This is so fun! We're the only ones here!"

As the ferris wheel turned, I stared out at the dreamscape below. The lights twinkled, distant but close enough to feel like I could touch them if I tried. Each place we had been to, every wild jump from one setting to another, had been so seamless, like the dream was effortlessly bending to my will.

The guy beside me was silent for a while. I couldn't even tell if he was still amazed by all this, like I was. The weightlessness of this world, the freedom. It was intoxicating.

“I could stay here forever,” I muttered, not really meaning for him to hear me. I was staring at the horizon, where the stars seemed to meet the edge of the earth. It was beautiful, serene, and endless. A place where time didn't exist, where pressure didn’t exist.

The guy looked at me, his smile fading a little. “Yeah… you could. But would you?”

I let his words hang in the air. Would I? I thought about the real world, about the exhaustion that clung to me every day like a second skin. The anxiety, the pressure, the constant feeling that I was falling behind. Here, it was different. There were no exams, no deadlines, no commute. No people expecting anything from me.

I didn’t answer him. I didn’t need to. The thought lingered, heavier than it should’ve been.

The ferris wheel continued its slow ascent, higher and higher, the ground below becoming a blur of colors. I glanced at him, noticing for the first time that his expression was... distant. His eyes weren't watching the view or me; they seemed fixed on something far off. Something unreachable.

Earth is getting smaller as we speak.

“Have you ever... stayed too long in a dream?” I asked, more curious than worried. But even as I said it, something about the question felt odd, like I was admitting to something I wasn’t ready to admit to myself.

His gaze flicked toward me, and for the first time, I noticed the weariness in his eyes. It was subtle, almost hidden beneath his easygoing demeanor. "I’ve been here for a while now,” he said softly, so softly I almost missed it. “Longer than I thought.”

I blinked. “What do you mean? You exist too, right? You can just… wake up whenever you want.”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked up at the sky. The stars didn’t twinkle like they should. They were frozen in place, like everything else here. “At first, yeah. But sometimes, the dream pulls you in. It becomes more real than what’s outside. And if you’re not careful… you might not want to wake up.”

I felt a strange chill, despite the warm air. “But you’re still here,” I said, my voice quieter now. “Why don’t you wake up?”

He finally met my gaze, and his eyes were full of something I couldn’t name. “I don’t think I can anymore. Not really. I’ve forgotten how to.”

My stomach dropped, but I forced myself to stay calm. This was just a dream, after all. I could wake up anytime. Right? I pressed my fingers together, trying to feel the texture of the seat beneath me. But it was soft, almost too soft, like the sensation was fading.

He gave me a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. You still can. But the longer you stay, the harder it gets.”

I looked down at my clothes, my Rosita Espinosa t-shirt, the one I had conjured just moments ago. It felt real, but it isn't. Nothing here is real. And yet, the thought of leaving felt… wrong. Why would I go back? Back to the exhaustion, the anxiety, the weight of it all?

“I don’t think I want to,” I said, barely above a whisper. “It’s better here.”

He nodded, not surprised. “That’s what I thought too.”

The ferris wheel stopped at the top. The world below us was empty now, still. I knew, deep down, that I could wake up. I just had to make the decision. I just had to want to wake up.

But I didn’t.

“I think I’ll stay for a while,” I whispered, more to myself than to him.

He didn’t say anything. The silence stretched on, and slowly, the details of the real world—my exams, the papers, the people—began to fade. Everything outside this place felt distant, like a forgotten memory.

As the ferris wheel descended, I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes. There was no rush. There was nothing pulling me back anymore. And when I opened them again, the world around me was brighter, clearer than before. I looked down and there are people now. Families were walking around, friend groups laughing as they waited in line for the next ride. The air was filled with the smell of popcorn and cotton candy, mixed with the cheerful sounds of chatter. Kids ran towards the colorful carnival games, their faces lit up with excitement. Nearby, the merry-go-round spun happily while a cheerful tune played, blending perfectly with the joyful laughter echoing the overall setting. Suddenly, it's so full of life.

The guy was still beside me, his expression calm, observing how I visualized the place to my liking. But something in his eyes told me he understood. He’d seen it happen before.

Two stars on the run.

I wasn’t going to wake up.

Not this time..

---------

i already know how the story ends but i'm still figuring out how to write it. this isn't even the final script but i have a feeling that i'm going to abandon this just like my every other unfinished one shots. i'm posting this here in case it'll be deleted somewhere. i really like the plot of this one.

this is (btw) inspired from a looot of my media consumption mainly the short anime series Insomniacs after School (by far the !best! romance anime i've watched. very interesting and unique plot), the book Something Spectacular by april_avery on wattpad (i read that book in highschool; changed the trajectory of my life), the movie Your name (dare I say my favorite movie of all) and the songs Don't say Goodnight (hence the title) by Plug in Stereo, Bituin by Sugarcane, Walking back home by Vira Talisa, and Sparkle by radwimps.

final note: this is finished.

[astertimberwolf]

Unpopular opinion but:

I'm gonna be happy if this version of RWBY dies. I don't want volume 10 after the flop that was this last season.

I couldn't bring myself to watch past episode 7 of volume 9, simply by how off-putting and upsetting the writing was, considering what has been done to / how much they butchered the characters (and how someone on the writing team pushed their gross Weiss x Jaune shipping fetishes / preferences onto the show, making the ship temporarily canonical by implying Weiss is into older men... simply because she loved and looked up to her grandfather?! YIKES. I wanna puke. This was so unprofessional that, had I been upper management, I would have had Kerry —or whomever came up with- and greenlit this — FIRED ON THE SPOT).

I'm tired. Really, REALLY tired. They've dragged on despite people losing interest, telling them what was wrong with the show and what to change- or telling them to stop altogether... And l'm not even going to get into the horrid treatment some of the people working inside CRWBY have had to endure.

I feel like Kerry (or whomever is left in charge now, since I know Miles left the show & writing team) has danced on Monty's corpse / grave long enough and has now retorted to the last, cheapest tactic ever, in an attempt to bait all the queers that used to love RWBY back to the show- All because of the lack of audience, stemming from the alienation they've caused over the years- of not grasping what made RWBY, RWBY (or well, what made it popular...).

A last minute, poorly written (and forced!) Bumblb kiss is not gonna save whatever this dumpster fire / bad televised fanfiction (in terms of writing) is supposed to be.

I'm sick and tired of being quiet and forcing myself to sit in the sidelines, pretending I don't care or that I don't have an opinion on this.

They have ruined a show I used to love and dragged it through the mud. All because of greed, ego and incompetence at its finest- incompetence to admit that they simply didn't have the resources, skill(s) and financial means to keep the show going and reflect what made it great and popular to begin with.

I know I'm gonna get hate for this and I accept that. If you're still pleased with whatever the hell RWBY is nowadays, good for you, I guess... But I just can't agree with- or support this anymore.

I'm fed up. It's been unfun. Let's never meet again.

May the show rest in peace, alongside Monty, as it should have, right from the get-go, ever since V4 or V6 came out- where they ran out of Monty's notes, planning and writing. I didn't know the man personally, but I sure as hell can tell you, if I had been him, I would NOT have been happy with what they did to what was basically a passion project to him.