#if you read the previous post I made on finishing the other assignment. not to worry.

[cosmos-dot-semicolon]

this programming assignment is so fucking big and insane that I better fucking know how to do something as basic as make a game by the end of it all

[slut4thebroken]

Teacher’s Pet

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x reader

Summary | After months of trying to earn your professor’s praise, he finally gives you an opportunity to prove you deserve it.

Warnings | Smut, dub con, blackmail, coercion, humiliation, anal, bondage, praise, creampie, degradation, inappropriate use of fear toxin.

Words | 6.2 k

Notes | Started this a million years ago. Finally got the motivation to finish it cause of @hllywdwhre ‘s fic that I proofread lol. Also ty to the post that gave me the fear toxin idea 🙏🏻

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

In honor of the one year anniversary since the start of my Cillian hyperfixation <3

Dr. Crane was one of the most strict and unforgiving professors at Gotham University. He graded harshly, didn’t tolerate late or incomplete work, and no one would ever dare be late— if they were, they just wouldn’t show up because an absence was better than his response to tardiness. He didn’t have any favorite students, just some that he tolerated slightly more than the rest. That was what you hated the most. 

You’ve always been the favorite student for every single teacher you’ve had, whether they said it out loud or not. After the first couple of weeks, you figured he’d just be harder to crack than the rest. But after almost two months, you were starting to get frustrated. Nothing you did ever earned you any sort of praise. You were always early, always the first to turn in assignments, participated in class, paid attention— you were the perfect student. But he never seemed to recognize that. What made you snap was when he gave you a B on your latest essay. 

Lightly knocking on his office door, you tried to control your nerves and push down the nausea— You’ve never had to talk with a teacher about a grade before…

“Come in.” He called out. So you opened the door and hesitantly stepped inside. He glanced at you quickly, then did a double take once he realized it was you. “Close the door.” He said, resuming what he was doing. You took in a quiet, deep breath and closed the door before walking over and sitting on the chair across from his desk. 

“I’m assuming this is about your essay?” He asked, not even looking up from his work. 

“Yes.. You gave me a B, I was hoping to understand why.” You said tentatively. 

“Did you not read my notes?” Of course you did. But it still didn’t make any sense. 

“No, I did, but-” He finally looked up at you with a sigh. 

“Then you should understand why I gave you that grade.”

“This essay was practically perfect.” You argued, holding up the stapled together pieces of paper, marked up with red ink. 

“Clearly not if you got a B.” He raised his brows and you clenched your jaw, trying not to get too upset or emotional.

“Dr. Crane, I’ve aced every single test and assignment, I’d hardly say this is a fair grade.” You frowned. 

“Your argument was weak and biased.” Your lips parted in shock at the bluntness of his criticism. “And your previous assignments have no impact on my grading. If you’d like them to though, I’d be more than willing to grade them again to see if I missed anything.” 

“It- it wasn’t… I spent weeks on this.” 

“And yet… You still weren’t good enough for an A.” He said, making your stomach churn. Especially because he didn’t even say ‘your essay’ he just said ‘you.’ Looking down at the papers in your hands, you scanned them quickly as if it would magically give you the answer. “Review my notes for the next essay. Maybe you’ll do better.” 

“What is your problem with me?” You snapped, looking up at him again, watching his brows raise slightly. “Have I done something to offend you?” 

“I don’t tolerate entitled students who are used to being the teacher's pet. Whatever previous, unearned success and praise you're used to receiving is of no concern to me. It is not my fault if you came into this class expecting to be treated differently for doing the same thing as every other student.” 

“I- I’m not.. entitled. I just like my work and effort to be appreciated and not.. given a B.” 

���You want me to tell you that you’re such a good girl, turning in everything on time— as expected— and doing well on your assignments— as expected.” The faux praise, as well as the condescension that laced his voice, made your cheeks heat up instantly. 

“No, but,” 

“Then I think we’re done here.” 

The next day, you almost considered not going to class, but you’ve never had an absence on your record and you’re not about to start now. 

“We’re going to deviate from the lesson plan a little and talk about something else today; fear. Specifically, fear of rejection.” Your mouth dropped open at his words and if you had any doubts that this was because of your previous conversation, they quickly disappeared when he made eye contact with you.  

“There are a few different causes, can anyone give me an example?” This would’ve been the time where you raised your hand. But that apparently wasn’t necessary because he called on you anyway, making you freeze. 

“Um, I— I’m not sure.” You said nervously, sinking back into your chair a little. 

“There’s a perfect example right there; anxiety and social comparison. Too anxious and insecure to answer a simple question. Who else can give an example?” You stared at him with wide eyes that quickly started burning with tears. Now you felt even more stupid than you would’ve, had you just answered him and potentially gotten it wrong.

Class dragged on slowly. He talked more about causes, what it looks like, how it affects performance— especially in school— and various treatments. 

You couldn’t have been more relieved when he finally dismissed the class. You rushed to pack your things and stood up, quickly making your way to the exit. 

When he called your name though, you froze, praying you heard him wrong. “Stay back for a moment.” Your peers gave you sympathetic looks as you turned around and slowly made your way back over to his desk. 

“Yes, professor?” You asked, voice strained. 

“I hope you found today's lesson helpful.” You gritted your teeth and gave him a dry smile. 

“It was… inspiring, Dr. Crane.” You said plainly, trying to control your tone. His expression was only becoming more and more amused. 

“I’m glad. Though I didn’t see you taking notes.” That made you falter. 

“I- I was,”

“Great. Let me see them.” You looked away from him and shifted your weight awkwardly. 

“See them?” 

“Did you not understand?” Your face flushed with anger and embarrassment at his patronizing tone. 

“I did. I just wasn’t aware that notes were something you needed to see.” 

“If a student isn’t paying attention for the entirety of my class then, yes, notes are something I need to see.” You swallowed thickly, trying to come up with a response, and he watched you intently as he waited.  

“Look, professor, you’ve made your point, okay? I don’t think you need to continue humiliating me.” You said quietly, not looking at him. He let out a heavy breath through his nose and you watched in your peripheral vision as he took off his glasses, setting them down. He slowly rounded the desk and you couldn’t help it when you instinctively took a step back. 

“That’s a shame. I had hoped this lecture would’ve been helpful, but since you clearly weren’t paying attention, maybe I need to try another method.” 

“I- I was paying attention…” You muttered, keeping your head down. 

“Really? Then why don’t you tell me some of the ways one can overcome a fear of rejection.” He leaned back on his desk and crossed his arms over his chest. The feeling of his eyes on you almost made you shiver and you took a quiet, deep breath before lifting your head to look at him again. 

This is an easy enough question. You can probably figure out the answer if you just use critical thinking since he was correct about you not paying attention. 

“Um… cognitive behavioral therapy?” You waited and when he didn’t out right humiliate you, you assumed that was a right answer and continued. “Exposure therapy. Self esteem enhancement… Emotion regulation?” 

“Anything else?” 

“…You said “some.’” You muttered, briefly looking away from him again. 

“I did, didn’t I?” His tone made it clear that he didn’t care about what he previously said. 

“Um, I- I’m not sure…” 

“Feel free to use your notes.” 

Fuck. 

When you looked up and saw the almost smug expression on his face, you finally snapped. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry that for one day, I couldn’t pay attention after you humiliated me in front of the entire class.” You spat, clenching your jaw as soon as you finished speaking. The longer he stayed silent, the more uncomfortable you became under his gaze, making you look away from him awkwardly. 

“Tell me why this shouldn’t affect your grade.” You knew his question was rhetorical, but you still tried to defend yourself. 

“Dr. Crane,” You started, but he raised his brows, silently warning you to not talk back. 

“I’ll see you later today during my office hours.” He said as he packed up his belongings. 

“But,” 

“Five pm.” He didn’t let you continue as he walked toward the door. All you could do was stand there and watch him leave. 

At 4:30 you paced around your dorm, debating what to do. At 4:35 you decided not to go. At 4:40 you changed your mind. At 4:50 you were pacing outside his office. At 4:55 you finally knocked, feeling like you could throw up at any second. He called out for you to enter, so you hesitantly opened the door and stepped inside. 

“Close the door and sit down.” He didn’t even look up from what he was working on. You closed the door quietly, then made your way over to the chair in front of his desk. You tried to sit there patiently, but he wasn’t saying anything. Your leg bounced incessantly as you picked at your cuticles, over thinking more and more with each tortuous second that dragged on. 

“Professor?” You finally asked. 

“You’re early. I told you to come at five and I need to finish this.” He still didn’t look up from whatever “this” was and you were quickly growing angrier. 

Was this some kind of mind fuck? Making you sit here, stewing in nerves that were only getting worse? You weren’t sure how much time had passed because you didn’t want to check your phone and give him another opportunity to chastise you. But after a while, he finally sighed and gathered the papers, setting them in a pile on the side of his desk. 

You forced yourself to stop bouncing your leg and place your palms flat on your thighs to keep from fidgeting, trying to exude confidence you were severely lacking. 

“I’ll admit, I’ve been struggling to decide what I should do with you.” Immediately your stomach churned, getting even more anxious. “I could have you removed from my class, but that would be a lot of paperwork.”

“Professor,” 

“I’m speaking.” He said harshly, making your mouth immediately close. “However, that does mean I’ll have to put up with this for another few months… So the paperwork might be worth the hassle.” You tried not to cry at the thought. You need this class to graduate— getting dropped from it will set you back a semester unless you add another course to your already heavy schedule for next semester. You waited, not sure if he was done talking or not. After another few seconds you decided to try again. 

“Please…” You said hesitantly, waiting for him to snap at you again. When he didn’t, you continued. “Please don’t drop me, professor. I need this class to graduate.” He stayed silent, eyes dragging over your body as you did your best not to squirm. He still hasn’t said anything… Is he going to drop you anyway? With tears in your eyes, you tried again, “Please… Please I- I’ll leave you alone— I won’t bother you about grades anymore, I swear, just please don’t drop me.” You all but whimpered, feeling even more pathetic now. 

He sighed and took off his glasses, then set them on his desk before leaning back in his chair a little, still studying you. 

“I’d still have to put up with you in class as well though.” 

“Please! I’ll sit in the back and not talk— I’ll do anything, just please don’t drop me.” You cried.

“Anything?” You stiffened a little at the dark expression that suddenly took over his face. Would you really do anything? You wouldn’t mind fucking him if that’s what he’s implying— despite his off putting personality, you’ve always been attracted to him.  

“Y-yes?” You said, unsure.  

“That didn’t sound very convincing and I’m not going to force you so I’ll just go through with the drop request,”

“No! I will— I’ll do anything… Please.” He continued studying you, probably trying to gauge if you were telling the truth or not. 

“Fine. We’ll call it an internship of sorts. You’ll come with me to Arkham Asylum every Friday and help me in whatever way I may need— no questions asked.” 

“I- I don’t know if I’m qualified for that.” 

“Good thing it’s not an actual internship then.” He sneered, the patronizing tone making you blush. 

“What will you have me do?” You asked quietly. 

“It’ll be easier to just show you instead. Give me your essay and after Friday if I’m satisfied with your performance, I’ll change the grade.” Your heart practically skipped a beat— all you have to do is go to Arkham with him for a day and you’ll get an A? You’d be stupid to say no. So you retrieved your essay from your bag and handed it to him. “Good. Six pm, do not be late. I’ll meet you in the main lobby to take you to my office.” He said sternly. 

Since you left his office, your heart has been pounding. You weren’t sure what to wear so you just decided on a skirt and blouse that were professional, but still mostly casual. After that, there wasn’t much else you could do. You were too anxious to focus on literally anything so you just sat at home, overthinking. Friday rolled around and you left at five, just in case anything happened, and arrived at 5:25. So you sat in your car, waiting anxiously and watching the clock on the dashboard. You were too scared to even listen to music. At 5:55 you decided to go in, worst case you’d just have to wait five minutes for him, but you figured it’d be better to be early— even after what happened during his office hours. 

It was only a minute before six when he showed up. The second he saw you, he gestured for you to follow, so you trailed after him on wobbly legs. When you arrived in his office, he closed the door and told you to sit in the chair across from him as he sat behind the desk. 

“I want to make sure that we’re on the same page and I have your consent for anything that happens here.” The way he worded that made you nervous, but you chalked it up to the fact that you were already overcome with anxiety.

“Yes.” You tried to sound sure of yourself, but you were having doubts. What would he make you do? Would it really be worth a better grade?

“Good. Take this.” He picked up a small paper cup from his desk with one pill inside and handed it to you. 

“…Why?”

“There are certain aerosol drugs that are administered to patients sometimes. That will keep them from affecting you.” He explained calmly, easing your nerves a bit. So you took it from him and swallowed it, waiting for what was next. “Follow me.” He stood up again, this time holding a briefcase, and you followed him out of his office. He led you down some hallways before stopping outside of a door and unlocking it, gesturing for you to walk in. 

There was a small table in the corner and two exam chairs with restraints on them, one of which had stirrups. Other than that the room was bare. The door closed loudly, making you jump and turn around. 

“Sit.” He ordered, walking over to the table and setting the briefcase down before walking toward you. 

“Why?” You asked skeptically. He just stood patiently and watched you. You suddenly got hit with a wave of dizziness and stumbled to the chair to sit down. The dizziness quickly turned into exhaustion and you could barely keep your eyes open. When you started falling forward, he quickly moved closer to catch you, then leaned you back against the chair. 

Your head hurt like hell and you forced your eyes open to find that you were now laying on the other exam chair, thankfully not with your legs in the stirrups, but with the restraints on your wrists. You don’t even remember falling asleep. 

“The effects should wear off soon. I apologize for using that, but I figured you wouldn’t willingly let me restrain you and I didn’t feel like fighting you.” 

“What… what was that?” You asked through a breath. You could slowly feel yourself getting less and less foggy. 

“A drug.” He said, in the most annoyed and patronizing tone you’ve heard from him so far. 

“Why?” You whimpered, closing your eyes again because they still felt so heavy. 

“If you’re going to ask stupid questions then I’m just going to gag you. I already answered that.” You heard some rustling noises and his footsteps, then a hand was running along your cheek, startling you and making you open your eyes. “You remember our agreement?” You nodded hesitantly. It felt like your heart was about to beat out of your chest with how hard and fast it was pounding. “Be a good little girl and if I’m satisfied, I won’t drop you. I might even change the grade of your essay.” You didn’t need the reminder, but the way he said the first part was making your stomach flutter. 

“I have to say,” he removed his hand from your cheek and moved down to place it on your leg, just above your knee, “I prefer the sluttier skirts you wear to class than this.” He teased the hem of your skirt with his fingers, making you tremble. “Next week wear something shorter. And a more flattering top.” You figured by ‘more flattering’ what he really meant was more revealing. All you could do to respond was nod. 

“Good. Let’s begin.” 

He reached for the zipper of your skirt on your hip, making you stiffen. 

“What the hell are you doing?” You asked, beginning to panic again, and he paused with a sigh. 

“If you don’t consent, that’s fine… There is still the matter of your seat in my class.” He said coyly. “If you want me to let you go, just say that. I’ll fill out the paperwork first thing Monday morning.” 

“No,” You choked out. “No.. please.” You felt like you were on the verge of a panic attack. He shushed you softly, staring at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. 

“Relax. If you consent to this, you’ll keep your seat in my class. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” You nodded, looking up at him with teary eyes. “Good girl… Now be quiet and let me do this.” His tone was significantly darker and all you could do was tremble as he unzipped your skirt, then pulled it down your body before discarding it on the floor. 

“I’ve been working on a new form of a drug.” You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a strangled whimper when he grabbed your leg and placed it in the stirrup, then used the restraints to keep it in place. “We’re going to try it together.” He grinned wolfishly and did the same to your other leg. 

You heard his footsteps as he walked across the room for something, then back over to you, now wearing a latex glove on his right hand, holding a small bottle in the other. 

“Remember, you can withdraw consent at any time…” You couldn’t though. Because you would be dropped from his class and set back months. 

His hand landed on your thigh, making you jump a little, and he started slowly dragging it up. Once he was close enough, he brushed his thumb over your clothed mound, forcing a quiet sob from you.  

“You probably thought this was going to go in a very different direction, didn’t you?” He asked teasingly, making you blush. Truthfully, you didn’t put much thought into your undergarments because you were too busy worrying about your actual clothes and what he was going to make you do. You cried out when he suddenly ripped the lace off your body, feeling the burn of the fabric pulling too hard against your skin. “Ready?” He asked, almost eagerly. 

You saw now that the bottle was a clear liquid and when he squirted it onto his fingers, you assumed it was lube. As soon as his finger brushed your asshole, you stiffened. 

“Wait!” You rushed out, chest heaving as your heart pounded in your chest. “I- I’ve never…” 

“You’ve never done anal?” You almost thought he was going to give you sympathy. “Good.” You couldn’t even get another word out before he was pushing a finger in, making you tense up as you whimpered in discomfort. “Tell me when you start to feel it.” 

“Feel what?” You said through a breath, trying to relax around the intrusion. Even though it wasn’t as bad as you were expecting, your heart was pounding even harder and faster in your chest, and your breathing grew ragged. “Dr. Crane,” You whimpered, suddenly a million times more anxious than only a moment ago. 

“Already?” He checked his watch, “That was fast. Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“Anxious.” You said quickly, letting out a strangled whimper when he forced another finger inside. “M-my heart is pounding and it feels hard to breathe.” 

“That’s good… Anything else?” 

“My hands are clammy… and it feels like I'm sweating a little.” 

“No visual or auditory hallucinations?” 

“What?” You choked out, eyes widening. “W-why would I have that??”

“The drug we’re testing is my fear toxin. It’s a hallucinogenic that targets the amygdala and releases stress hormones, causing a fear response in the brain.” He explained, only making you feel worse. “So far I’ve tested it two ways; administered intravenously and in aerosol form.” 

“I don’t understand..” You said quietly, trying to calm your breathing a little. He let out an exaggerated sigh and forced a third finger inside you. 

“I guess I should really expect you to.” He almost sounded.. disappointed. The realization made the twist in your stomach even worse. “Let me dumb it down for you. In its most potent form, it causes visual and auditory hallucinations of the subject’s worst fear.” If you weren’t currently on the verge of a panic attack with three fingers in your ass, you probably would’ve rolled your eyes at his tone. 

“Now I’m testing it via rectal administration. The concentration is about the same, but the effects shouldn’t be as strong. At least, that’s my theory.” His fingers continued fucking you slowly, occassionally spreading apart to open you up more. Despite the amount of anxiety you were currently feeling, you could just barely feel your growing arousal.  

“W-why would you want the drug in this form?” You asked, gasping for air between words. 

“I’m a doctor. Why wouldn’t I experiment?” He asked rhetorically. You bit your lip and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on the anxiety rather than the arousal, but it was only becoming more difficult. A choked moan escaped you when he suddenly dragged a bare finger through your folds, spreading the evidence of your arousal. “Are you enjoying this?” His voice sounded unnervingly clinical. 

In response, you bit down harder on your lip and shook your head, denying it. You could practically feel his eyes on you, studying you closely. 

“I knew you’d be perfect for this.” He suddenly said, and you bit back a moan because he almost sounded proud. “You’re just pathetic enough and desperate for my approval to willingly become my little lab rat, and now look at you… Leaking onto my hand as I finger your ass.” He chuckled wryly. A dark blush took over your face and you whined quietly, but the flutter in your stomach was unmistakable. “I bet you want my cock also… Don’t you?” 

You let out a choked sob and turned your head, trying uselessly to hide yourself. When he suddenly pulled his fingers out, you whimpered quietly at the sudden loss. 

“Look at me.” He demanded, in a tone that left no room for argument. As if you were in a trance, you turned to face him and opened your eyes. “You want to keep your seat in my class?” He removed the glove and tossed it aside, then worked on unbuckling his belt and opening his pants. 

“Yes.” You whispered shakily. 

“And you’re willing to let me fuck your ass to ensure that happens?” He pulled his already half hard cock out and started stroking slowly as you gaped at it. How was that supposed to fit inside you?

“I- I’ve never..”

“It’s a yes or no question.” He sighed impatiently. “I fuck your ass or you leave and I fill out the form Monday morning.” 

“I… I’m scared.” You whimpered, looking nervously between his face and his cock. 

“That’s the whole point, darling.” Right. Because he was testing his fear toxin. You blushed furiously at the new pet name. “You have three seconds before I fuck you, then fill out the form anyway.” 

Your stomach dropped at the threat and when he raised his brows, you blurted out, “Yes.” Tears were brimming in your eyes and he stepped closer, but didn’t line up yet. He just used his free hand to gently rub your thigh. 

“Yes, what?” Your bottom lip began trembling when you realized what he wanted from you. “Say it. Beg your professor for it.”

“I- I want…” You let out a strangled sob and squeezed your eyes shut again, making his hand stop moving on your thigh to grip tightly in a silent warning. “I want you to fuck my ass… Please, Dr. Crane.” You whimpered. You’ve never felt more humiliated, but at the same time… you were only becoming more aroused. Your cunt ached to be filled, and your clit was practically throbbing.

“Good girl.” When you let out a choked moan at the sudden praise, he chuckled quietly. “Open your eyes. I want you to watch.” He demanded, lining up. Only after your eyes fluttered open, did he finally apply some pressure, entering you with little difficulty. 

“Fuck- You’re so tight.” He hissed, moving his hand to your other thigh and squeezing almost painfully. Your breath and all of your sounds were caught in your throat as he pushed in deeper, not stopping until his hips were flush with your ass. “Tell me how it feels.” He said breathily, not moving yet. 

“Big.” You whimpered, barely able to get the word out. 

“Does it hurt?” You shook your head, trying to steady your breathing, but the overwhelming feeling of being stretched as well as the anxiety still weighing heavy on your chest made it feel almost impossible. “You look like you’re on the verge of a panic attack.” He sounded uncharacteristically dulcet.

When he reached for your shirt and unbuttoned it to expose your bra, your breathing picked up even more as your heart started pounding even harder in your chest. He pulled your bra down below your breasts and groped you eagerly, showing little regard for your pleasure with his rough, almost painful touch. 

“Your heart’s beating so fast. Is my little lab rat still scared?” He cooed, very obviously mocking you. 

“Professor..” You whimpered, staring up at him with glossy eyes as you struggled to cope with all of the overwhelming feelings, both physically and emotionally. He shushed you softly and brought his hands back down to rub your thighs, trying to soothe you. 

“I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to take it.” He said plainly. “You try to resist at all and I’ll keep fucking you until I finish, then you won’t have to bother showing up to class on Monday. Do you understand?” 

You nodded reluctantly and he moved his hands to grip the tops of your thighs. He slowly dragged his hips back, then forward again, forcing you to feel every inch of his cock stretching you open. It didn’t… hurt. But it definitely wasn’t the most pleasurable thing you’ve ever experienced. 

When he suddenly sped up, you cried out and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on taking deep breaths. He was grunting and moaning quietly with each thrust, clearly enjoying this far more than you, and you couldn’t help but open your eyes again to watch him. His grip tightened on your thighs, making you whimper, and you watched his mouth fall open in a silent moan as he closed his eyes. 

“Fuck…” He said breathily, letting out a low groan before opening his eyes again. “I didn’t account for transdermal administration” He almost sounded amused again, but you could barely focus on his words. “The effects are far less than what you’re feeling, I’d assume. It almost feels like adrenaline, rather than fear. Next time we’ll try it intravaginally to see if your reaction is the same or more like mine.” 

You almost forgot that this wasn’t a one and done. You have to let your professor do what he wants with you every week for the rest of the semester…

“And I think I’ll try the other forms of delivery on you as well. Not so much for an experiment… I just want to fuck you while you’re hallucinating your greatest fears.” His lips curled up into a small smirk at the thought of that. “I can’t wait to hear you scream and cry for me.” He cooed, but his tone was far from comforting and your anxiety was only getting worse as he continued sharing his future plans for you. 

He started bucking into you rapidly and his sounds got louder, clearly getting closer to his release. You could even feel yourself just barely starting to inch toward the edge. Your moans caught his attention and a pleased look took over his face. 

“You like this, don’t you?” You let out a choked moan and bit your lip, trying to quiet your sounds. “It’s either that or misattribution of arousal... but that seems less likely.” Even though you knew his guess was correct, you were still going to convince yourself that it was misattribution of arousal instead because that was far less humiliating. When he started rubbing your clit, any chance you had of keeping quiet was gone instantly. His moans got louder too when your body tensed up, tightening around his cock. 

“Oh god— Dr. Crane, please.” You sobbed, feeling the arousal steadily taking over the anxiety that had settled in your stomach. 

“What do you want?” Now that he asked, you realized that you don’t even know what you want. You wanted the overwhelming anxiety and stretch to stop… but the thought of him pulling out and ending this almost brought tears of desperation to your eyes. His fingers sped up on your clit and your back arched off of the exam chair as an involuntary mewl escaped you. 

“Please let me come.” You whimpered pathetically and he let out a quiet chuckle in response to your brazenness. 

“How curious…” He murmured, gaze dragging all over your body. “I’ll admit, I figured some part of you would enjoy getting to please me, but I never imagined it’d be to this extent.” He said amusedly and your blush darkened in response. “You want to come?”

You were nodding eagerly before he could even finish. “Please.” 

“How about this— I'll raise the grade on your essay… or I’ll let you come.” You could see the barest hint of a smirk on his lips and you let out a frustrated sob, squeezing your eyes shut. “Well?”

“Dr. Crane…” You whimpered, bottom lip trembling as you tried not to cry. When you opened your eyes and stared up at him through the tears, his smirk widened. “Please..” 

“Should I choose for you?” 

“No…” You sobbed, looking away from him and biting your lip. The whole point of this was so he’d change the grade… You can’t give in to the pleasure now that you’re so close to finally getting what you came here for. “I- I want you to change my grade.” Your voice was barely a whisper. As soon as he got your answer, he removed his hand from your clit to grab the top of your thigh again, bucking into you rapidly as he chased his orgasm. 

“We’re going to have a lot of fun together, my little lab rat.” He was clearly satisfied with your choice and while part of you was almost crying from frustration… another part couldn’t help but revel in the fact that you pleased him, even if it was at the expense of your own pleasure. 

His hips snapped into you rapidly, the force of it almost pushing you up the exam chair, but the restraints on your legs kept you mostly in place. As he focused on his impending orgasm, you were practically mesmerized. He looked so… pretty. The pleasure in his expression was obvious and there was a faint blush on his cheeks. His normally pale blue eyes were darker as he took you in, studying every tiny reaction to his ministrations. 

When he suddenly pushed forward all the way and stayed there, you let out a whine of displeasure, knowing whatever pleasure you might’ve been feeling before was about to disappear. But the choked moan he let out as he closed his eyes made you almost forget all about it. His hips bucked forward sporadically as his cock twitched inside you with each rope of come that shot out, filling you up.  

Finally his sounds quieted into heavy breathing and his body went still. You waited anxiously for what was next, not sure what to expect. Opening his eyes again, he watched as he slowly dragged his hips back until his cock slipped free, forcing out a quiet hiss from him and a whimper from you at the sensitivity. 

“Push it out.” His voice was raspy and still thick with arousal. When you pushed his come out, he let out a low groan as he watched, bending down a little to get a closer look. “Good girl.” He cooed, making you whine as the words went straight to your cunt that was still aching with need. 

“You can remain here until the effects wear off. I want to see how long that takes.” He said, almost clinically, while checking his watch. Your eyes stayed on him as he tucked his cock back in his pants before collecting the lube and discarded glove. 

“Are you going to let me go?” Your voice was quiet and timid as submission still heavily clouded your mind. He looked over at you again, almost surprised by your voice. He glanced at the restraints before dragging his gaze all over your body for a moment. Finally, he smirked a little and went back to what he was doing. 

“Soon.” You sighed in response and stayed quiet. As you breathed deeply, trying to ignore the arousal still lingering in your stomach, you noticed that the anxious feeling was starting to subside a little. Your heart was still beating rapidly, but now it was hard to tell if it was from fear, adrenaline, or your own unsatisfied arousal. 

“I think it’s wearing off.” You told him and he checked his watch again. 

“What are you feeling?” He finally walked back over to you and stared at your face with an almost impressive level of professionalism, given the circumstances. 

“My heart is still pounding, but my breathing is better. And I don’t feel very nauseous either.” 

“Next week I want to test this again so I have a control group to compare these results to. It’ll be the same thing, but I won’t finger you for as long and I won’t fuck you until after it wears off.” He reached out and gently grabbed your chin, angling your face up to look at him as he stepped closer. “Of course… that’s assuming you still want to keep your spot in my class…” He trailed off, making the statement sound like a question instead. 

“I do.” You said quickly. Especially after this… you were desperate to stay enrolled in his class, but you were also— as much as you didn’t want to admit it— desperate for more after he gave you this small taste. 

“Good girl.” Your cheeks heated up instantly and he patted one with his hand before stepping back again. “Keep being my little lab rat and I have no doubt you’ll pass my class… maybe even with the grade you think you deserve.” 

[wileys-russo]

little blurb about supportive arsenal gf finding out lessi is starting 🥹

two posts in one day, spoiling y'all

debut II a.russo

"lessi did you grab my training top by accident with yours?" you called out as you rummaged through your closet with a frown. "babe?" you called out again a little louder when your girlfriend didn't answer.

"no! are you sure you didn't already pack it?" the blonde called back from down the hall where she was sat in the spare room on the bed, laptop balancing on her knees as she worked on an assignment. your own shared bed was covered with your clothes as you of course had left it to the last minute to pack, your girlfriends own case already down by the front door ready for lotte to pick you both up tomorrow.

"oh. yeah i did, thank you!" you smiled in relief as you searched through your suitcase seeing your training kit folded neatly in the bottom, the taller girl in the other room rolling her eyes with a small smile.

the two of you headed to sweden tomorrow for your first match of the season and the qualifier of the champions league, you were over the moon to finally be playing alongside alessia than against her.

and it finally meant no more hours of travelling on the tube or cross city roadtrips just to spend a day or two together and then weeks apart until the cycle repeated. the distance wasn't easy but with time and communication you made it work, and you had never pressured one another about switching clubs.

but seeing how poorly alessia was treated by her former club, a team she'd supported since her childhood, was hard to bare when you loved her dearly. but you were there by her side through it all, the same way she was when you tore your hamstring early last year.

"i'm packed." you announced with a relieved sigh finally joining the striker on the spare bed, collapsing beside her on your back and resting your head against her hip, scrolling through your phone.

"thank god i was worried we might miss the flight." the taller girl teased, not looking away from her laptop as her fingers flew against the keyboard and you playfully pinched her leg for the comment.

the two you sat together in a comfortable silence, you swapping your social media deep dive for a book as your girlfriend tangled a hand in your hair, nails scratching at your scalp as she read through her study material.

"i'm gonna go start dinner baby." you finished your chapter, marking your page and sitting up. "hey!" you laughed as your girlfriend poked at the slit of skin which appeared as your arms up with a stretch. "what's for dinner?" the blonde asked with a curious smile.

"whatever i can make with as many items as possible, the last thing i'd like to come home to is a fridge full of expired, soggy or mouldy food." you winced in disgust, scrunching your nose at the thought. "do you want a hand?" the striker offered, moving her laptop off her knees and tugging you to lay on top of her.

"hi. "hello beautiful."

you blushed at her words as the blonde kissed your nose with a soft smile.

"no it's okay you said you need to study so you can focus when we're in sweden, i'll come get you once it's done baby." you answered her previous question with a smile, kissing her softly in thanks.

"now hit the books!" you ordered playfully, rolling off of her and standing to your feet as the blonde gave you a salute and picked her laptop back off the bed.

~

"smells almost as divine as you." you smiled as hoodie clad arms wrapped round you, the taller girl pressing her front into your back as her chin rested on your shoulder, kissing your cheek affectionately.

"charmer." you grinned, a slight blush coating your cheeks as you relaxed into her hold. "so, i have news." alessia broke the silence, unwrapping herself from you and taking a step back as you turned round and raised a curious eyebrow.

"jonas called." your girlfriend started, fiddling nervously with the sleeves of her hoodie as you tilted your head, unsure where this was going. "i'm starting on wednesday." she finally revealed, watching as your mouth dropped open, her own curling into a shit eating grin.

"baby! you're getting your debut!" you squealed happily, launching yourself at her as the blonde stumbled backwards but caught you, your legs wrapping around her waist.

"i am so proud of you less. i told you he was impressed at training!" you beamed, kissing happily all over her face as the tall blonde let out a giggle making your heart soar.

"i did smoke you at the wind sprints." "hey your legs are like half the size of my whole body you have an unfair advantage."

"but i can't believe we'll finally be on the pitch together for the same team and in the right red." you teased lightly as alessia spun you around before taking a few steps forward and placing you down to sit on the counter top.

"so long as i'm with you i couldn't care what color i'm wearing."

[nifexchange24]

Announcing: The Nirvana in Fire Fanwork Exchange 2024

Sign-ups — 1st-14th Oct

Prompt claiming — 17th-21st Oct

Assignments — 24th Oct

Check-in — 1st-5th Dec

Deadline — 21st Dec

Gift reveals — 25th Dec

Creator reveals — 31st Dec

The Nirvana in Fire Fanwork Exchange is an event for anyone who's a fan of the show Nirvana in Fire, its sequel series The Wind Blows in Changlin, the novel, manhua, audio drama and any other associated media I've forgotten.

It takes the form of an anonymous fanwork gift exchange: gifters will be matched with recipients based on prompts submitted by participants during sign-up. All participants will create a gift and receive one.

The event is open to all types of fanworks: fic, vids, visual art, crafts, podfic, etc.

Announcements will be crossposted to Tumblr, Discord and Dreamwidth.

If you would like an invite to the Langya Hall discord server, which has a channel for discussing the exchange, please let me know.

How It Works

During the sign-up period, you will be able to submit a Google Form with a list of 3 prompts for fanworks you would like to receive, as well as space to list any Do/Do Not Wants. The link will be posted on the DW community, the Langya Hall discord, and on this Tumblr.

On 17th Oct, participants will be sent an anonymous list of sets of prompts and asked to rank their top 5 choices. Once all participants have responded, the mods will do their best to match everyone according to their preferences.

On 24th Oct, participants will be sent their individual assignment: the prompt list of the person they have been matched with, along with that person's AO3 username.

On 31st Oct, the prompt list will be made public, for anyone, whether they signed up or not, to creat additional 'treats' for the prompters.

There will be a mandatory check-in 1st-5th Dec. Participants will be asked whether they are on track to complete a gift by the final deadline of 21st Dec. Participants who miss this deadline without contacting the mods will be assumed to have defaulted and their assignment will be sent to a pinch-hitter.

Gifts should be submitted to the AO3 collection (still under construction) by the end of the day on 21st Dec. Participants will still be able to make edits, but the gift should be in a giftable state by then.

On 25th Dec, the gifts will be revealed: everyone will be able to see all works in the collection, though the creators will still remain anonymous.

On 31st Dec, the names of the creators will be revealed.

TL;DR: Sign up with prompts, choose the prompts you'd like to fill, make a thing, post a thing, get a thing, shower your fellow creators with love and comments.

Minimum gift requirements

Treats

Fic: 500 words

Podfic: 5 mins

Art: 1 artwork (B&W or colored)

Video: 30 secs to 1 min, depending on complexity

Crafts: 1 picture and/or documentation of the finished project

If you don't want to sign up as a full exchange participant, you can still create fills for prompts as 'treats'. The prompt list will be made public on 31st Oct. Treats can be posted to the AO3 community and tagged with 'NIFTREAT24'.

General Points

BYOB: Bring your own beta. In previous years, the exchange has offered a beta-matching service, but we're running at reduced capacity this year, so if you want your work beta-read, please organise this yourself.

Timezones: Deadlines for participants are 11.59pm of the date in question, wherever you might be in the world. Timings for the mod doing stuff are based on 'when I have a spare hour during that day' and I can't be more precise than that.

AO3: You'll be able to add your work to the Nirvana in Fire 2024 Exchange collection on AO3 (currently under construction but you can see last year's collection here). If you need an AO3 invite, we can arrange this, but please let me know before December if possible.

Contact a mod: If you're in the Langya Hall discord server, feel free to ping me @ sinni-ok-sessi on there, or @ withans for a PM. You can also contact me @sinni-ok-sessi or via the @nifexchange24 Tumblr. Nominally I am on Dreamwidth, but I almost never remember to check it, so that's not your best bet. If you sign up, you will receive instructions for how to email me.

[tomhiddlestonfanfic]

He Loves Me Not Chapter Twenty-One

Ch.1 - Ch.2 - Ch.3 - Ch.4 - Ch.5 - Ch.6 - Ch.7 - Ch.8 - Ch.9 - Ch.10 - Ch.11 - Ch.12 - Ch.13 - Ch.14 - Ch.15 - Ch. 16 - Ch. 17 - Ch.18

Summary & Chapter Index

TITLE: He Loves Me Not

CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT: 21/?? WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Actor Tom OTHER CHARACTERS: Benedict Cumberbatch PAIRING: Tom Hiddleston/OFC GENRE: Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Romance, Teen Angst, Coming of age

FIC SUMMARY: Norah is a troubled teenager who is secretly and obsessively in love with her sister Sarah’s boyfriend, Tom. Sarah constantly worries about her younger sister, who is struggling with depression and anxiety, and one night, after a long evening at a charity event, Tom decides that he has had quite enough of Norah’s at times reckless and what could be considered rather selfish behaviour. He reveals a new side of himself as he desperately tries to help Norah break her vicious circle of self-destruction and open her eyes to the beautiful things in life. Could he be Norah’s knight in shining armor? Or will his efforts prove to be all in vain? Is his mere presence actually doing more harm than good? Could he ever love her the way she loves him?

WARNINGS: This story contains potentially triggering subjects such as Depression, Anxiety, Self-Harm, Self-Destruction, Eating Disorders, Talk About Suicide and Suicidal Ideation. It also deals with the subject of Grief and contains Previous Character Deaths. Other potentially upsetting subjects this story contains are Spanking Fantasies, Sexual Fantasies, Masturbation, Dirty Talk, Age Difference and Age Play.

WRITER'S NOTE:

I realise this might strike you as odd, me updating this story after such a long time. But I rediscovered after getting some very nice positive response on it on one of the platforms I use to post it, and I went through my notes and realised that I did have a few drafts for chapters written on it. I read through them and I decided that I feel okay with posting them now. My intention has always been to finish this story someday and give it a proper ending. Your support for my writing means the world to me. As I write, I constantly learn new things and ways to express myself in a language that is not my native language, and it's quite wonderful, really.

I want to thank you so much from the bottom of my heart for reading my work. Please, take care, and feel free to comment on my writing or just get in touch me if you want to.

Love, F.

If you are having a hard time and think that stories containing any of those subjects might have a negative effect on your wellbeing, I advise against reading it and wish you the best of luck. Please, take care of yourself.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE Noncompliance

'Maybe you’ll get a replacement There’s plenty of me to be found Mongrels who ain’t got a penny Sniffing for tidbits like you On the ground, ah, ah

So goodbye yellow brick road Where the dogs of society howl You can’t plant me in your penthouse I’m going back to my plough'

Norah stared blankly out the car window, not taking notice of the change in scenery outside as she listened to the lyrics of the song. Tom had made her playlists of music that made him think of her in one way or another. She found it sweet that he thought about her enough to produce playlists with hours of music for her. Some of the lyrics and music really spoke to her in a way she had not anticipated. She felt a strong love for music and sometimes looked up more songs by the bands and artists on the playlists because Tom’s song recommendations had awoken an interest in her. Listening to Tom’s playlists made her feel closer to him in a way, but he was still always out of her reach somehow, even when he was sitting right next to her, like now.

Sarah was sitting in the backseat reading through the paperwork related to Norah’s admittance to the treatment facility called Willow’s Creek. Norah had been assigned to stay in a section called ‘The Wood Anemone’. After learning about her doctor’s decision to send her there because of the incident at new year’s eve, Norah had promptly refused to look in the brochure about the place. She had dramatically torn it into pieces and spread them out in her doctor’s office like confetti after having it handed to her. Sarah had made sure to keep the rest of the papers away from Norah, fearing that she otherwise might do the same to them. Norah felt furious by how things had ended up like this, especially after having that nice doctor, Darius Feresteh, who her ordinary doctor was supervising, getting her hopes up about her actually having a choice in all this. It was a small comfort that Darius had actually seemed quite openly displeased with his supervisor when the decision had been made and offered Norah some encouraging words before she left the doctor’s office that afternoon her fate had been sealed and decisions had in their usual fashion been made over her head.

Darius had taken her aside and looked at her with compassion in his warm, kind eyes. ‘I’m really sorry about all this, Norah. I didn’t expect them to disrespect your right to make your own decisions like this. Maybe I’ve been too naive to realise just how great the discrepancy between how I think things should be done and how they are actually done is. But I know you will get through this and I’ve met patients who have been to Willow’s Creek and completely turned their lives around. I’ve visited the place a few times and let me assure you, it really isn’t as bad as you might think it is.’

It was a rainy Sunday afternoon, the tenth of January 2016, to be more precise, and Norah felt like a convict being transported to the penitentiary where she would serve her sentence. At least she got to sit in the front seat with Tom, rather than in the back of a police transport, Norah thought to herself. She had recovered from the incident at new year’s eve, at least physically. The bruise on her cheekbone was barely visible even when she was not wearing any makeup to cover it up. As they approached their destination, Norah checked her makeup in the mirror to make sure that she looked presentable. She didn’t want to make a bad impression on the other teenagers living in the treatment facility by looking unkempt. One of the upsides of having short hair was that it was a lot easier to brush and style than her long hair had been. Norah sighed heavily once she saw the sign that read ‘Willow’s Creek’ and turned to look pleadingly at Sarah in the backseat.

“Please, don’t make me go,” Norah begged. Sarah looked up at her sadly and shook her head in response.

“I’m so sorry, but your doctor has decided that this will be a safer environment for you right now,” Sarah said regretfully. “It’s only for a while. I think you even might enjoy yourself here, there are horses and -”

“I won’t,” Norah interrupted irritably. “I’m going to hate every damn second of it.”

When the car came to a stop in the parking lot Norah looked up to see that there was a woman and a man approaching the car. She crossed her arms to express her dissatisfaction and refused to make eye contact with any of them as they looked at her.

“It’s going to be alright, Norah,” Tom said and undid her seatbelt before gently patting her shoulder. “The grown up thing to do in situations like these is to face reality and try to make the best of it.”

“Clearly I don’t qualify as a grown up yet, since I apparently have no say in this. So you can take your grown up advice and show them up your-” Norah got distracted by the car door suddenly opening next to her and didn’t finish her sentence. She looked up to find Sarah smiling gently at her and sighed heavily in response.

“It’s time,” Sarah informed her as if she didn’t know it already.

“I don’t want to,” Norah mumbled.

“I know. I don’t want this either, but we have no other choice,” Sarah replied.

“There’s always a choice,” Norah muttered.

“Even if I would insist on keeping you home, your doctor would have the law on her side and make you go here either way. The difference would be that I would no longer have a say in how long you would have to stay here. It’s better this way,” Sarah explained. Norah knew this already, but she still felt upset with Sarah for bringing her there voluntarily. “Come on, it’s time to go.”

Norah held back a smile at her sister’s words as they reminded her of a Pink Floyd song that Joe had introduced to her. ‘That will keep you going through the show. Come on, it’s time to go.’ She thought about Joe for a moment and felt a bit more at ease. He had encouraged her to use the place to her advantage, just like he had done when he was in rehab. His stories of success and setbacks made her feel a little bit more at ease.

“Norah, come on,” Sarah said, bringing Norah back to the present.

“Fine,” Norah muttered and reluctantly got out of the car. She grabbed her backpack from the floor in the front seat and put it on. Tom had already grabbed her bag from the car boot and carried it for her. Sarah was carrying a bag of things she had insisted on packing for Norah.

The woman and the man introduced themselves as Jane and Max. As they walked towards one of the buildings, Max spoke with great enthusiasm about the place, making sure to mention all the good things about it. He spoke excitedly about going horseback riding, painting, playing musical instruments, practising yoga and mindfulness, and doing different sports. Jane smiled gently at Norah when they briefly made eye contact, but Norah didn’t return the smile, instead she quickly looked away in an attempt to discourage the woman from speaking directly to her. It seemed to work.

They showed Norah her room and put her things there, before walking to an office. Norah slumped down in an armchair near the door. Sarah and Tom sat down on each side of her, while Max and Jane seated themselves across from her.

“Sarah and Tom, are you in a hurry to get somewhere, or could you stay for about an hour while Norah gets settled?” Jane asked.

“We can stay,” Sarah confirmed.

“That’s nice. Then you can help Norah unpack and add a more personal touch to her room,” Jane said with a gentle smile. She then went on to talk about the rules, or common values, they had at The Wood Anemone.

“You will have your own personalised schedule to live by,” Max proceeded to say once Jane was done talking. He said it as though it was something to be excited about. He felt a bit too positive for Norah’s liking. It was bound to get on her nerves if it would turn out he always was like this. “Do you like horses?” he wondered.

“Umm, sure,” Norah replied.

“Good. Then I’ll put you on the list for our twice weekly visits to the stables. Do you know how to ride a horse?” Max asked her.

“Not really,” Norah replied.

“Then this is a perfect opportunity for you to learn something new,” Max said with a smile.

“She’s great with animals,” Sarah told him. “When we were kids she wanted a pegasus. Norah, do you remember that?”

“No,” Norah replied, even though she vividly remembered how Sarah had made her believe that flying horses really existed. She resisted the urge to smile at the memory, because she didn’t want anyone to get the impression that she was anything but dissatisfied about being there. It had to be made clear to everyone involved that she did not want to be there.

Jane and Max told her about what an ordinary day in the treatment facility could look like, and explained to her that her days would be customised to fit her personal needs and preferences. Norah seriously doubted that she would be able to enjoy her stay there no matter how much they tried to adapt things after her preferences.

“Well, I would prefer not to stay here, because I really don’t need to be here,” Norah told them irritably. “Could you customise my schedule based on that?”

Max smiled at her. “Come on. I promise you, it’s not nearly as bad here as you think it is,” he said encouragingly.

“It’s probably worse,” Norah muttered.

“Give it a week and we’ll evaluate your time here. If you still hate it here by the end of the week, we may need to consider other options,” Max told her.

“What other options are there?” Norah asked.

“You could always be transferred to another treatment facility, perhaps a bit closer to home. But I don’t think that will be necessary,” Max replied confidently as the five of them left the office together. He seemed to have great faith in that place’s ability to help people. “I will be one of your contact persons here at The Wood Anemone. The other two are called David and Samantha. You can of course talk to all the other staff members here when you need help with anything, but the three of us will have the most knowledge about your situation and personal needs. So you should mainly turn to us about things regarding your stay here.”

‘Great,’ Norah thought sarcastically to herself and sighed. Of course she would have to be assigned with a chatty contact person. She was hoping the other two would be less upbeat and energetic than Max. She found his cheerfulness somewhat disturbing, and they had only just met. She quietly wondered how his good mood would affect her if he kept this up. It would probably drive her insane.

“It was really nice to meet you, Norah. I will see you again tomorrow,” Jane said before saying goodbye to Sarah, Tom and her colleague, wishing them a good day.

“Let’s get you settled,” Max said cheerfully. “Did you bring any posters for your walls like we suggested in your admittance letter?”

“No. I never bothered to read the damn letter,” Norah informed him irritably.

“I see. That’s perfectly fine. We have a bunch of posters to choose from if you like. The idea is that by personalising your own room, you might feel more at home here faster,” Max explained. Norah glared darkly at him before turning away from him.

“That’s a nice concept,” Sarah said and smiled as she took a closer look at the room Norah had been assigned. “Look Norah, the walls are bright purple instead of sterile white,” she pointed out.

“Great,” Norah said sarcastically as she went to lay on the bed, kicking her boots off. It was the new ones that she had gotten from Tom.

“Is it comfortable?” Tom asked her and gently pushed her legs aside to sit on the edge of the bed. “It’s bouncy,” he commented and Norah bit her lip to hold back a smile at how dorky she found his comment.

Sarah smiled at the two of them before proceeding to open the bag of things she had packed for Norah. “Do you need to look through her things or anything?” Sarah asked Max.

“It’s standard procedure,” Max explained with a shrug and an apologetic smile.

“I understand,” Sarah replied and unpacked the bag, putting everything out on the desk by the window so Max could look through everything. Norah just remained on the bed while Sarah and Tom, under Max’s supervision, proceeded to unpack her clothes for her, putting them in the closet.

“You don’t need to unpack everything, I’m not planning on staying that long,” Norah muttered irritably as she watched them go through her stuff. She always hated that part when it came to psychiatric wards and treatment facilities. It made her feel like a criminal.

“Norah, could you come over here for a moment, please?” Max requested from where he stood leaning over the desk. Norah was taken aback by the seriousness in his voice and reluctantly got out of the bed to walk up to him. Her heart sank once she saw the small razor that had been hidden beneath the pencils in her Faber-Castell metal pencil case.

“I must have put it there years ago and forgotten about it,” Norah told him awkwardly.

“I understand,” Max replied and gave her a gentle smile. “I just want you to be completely honest with me. Okay? No one’s upset with you, Norah. But it’s important that you tell the truth. Do you have anything else among your things that you’re not supposed to have?”

“Not that I know of,” Norah replied truthfully.

“Norah, do you smoke?” Max wondered as he reached into her backpack and took out a lighter.

“Umm, no, not really,” Norah said.

“Do you burn yourself?” he asked.

“It’s happened,” Norah told him honestly.

“I appreciate your honesty,” Max said and put the lighter in his pocket. “I’ll confiscate this.”

“What if I start smoking? Will I get it back then?” Norah questioned, causing Max to smile.

“If you need to smoke, someone from the staff will lend you a lighter,” he explained.

“You’re not planning on picking up smoking, now are you?” Sarah asked her with a sigh.

“Why not? Tom smokes, even though he says he has quit. You’re addicted to caffeine and sometimes you drink too much wine while studying,” Norah pointed out provocatively. “You call me self-destructive, but you’re just as bad, if not worse. You’re denying yourself rest and time to recover after intense periods of stress. It’s just a matter of time before you crash and burn, you know.”

Sarah looked at her little sister with sadness in her eyes, but she still managed to force a smile. “Don’t worry about me, Norah. I’ll be fine. Just focus on taking care of yourself and doing things that are good for you.”

“Only if you promise to do the same,” Norah demanded. “Take at least one day off from studying every week.”

“I’ll take one night off, every week,” Sarah negotiated. “The course I’m reading right now demands a lot of time and effort.”

“I suppose things will get easier for you now that you’re finally rid of me,” Norah remarked. “Maybe this is exactly what you need; a proper break from my melodramatic self.”

“You know as well as I that I want you to be home with me. Your doctor gave me no other choice,” Sarah defended herself.

“She presented you with a perfect opportunity to not have to be the bad guy and still get rid of me,” Norah said irritably. She felt like she truly no longer cared about what anyone thought about her. She wanted to get under Sarah’s skin and hit her where it would hurt the most. “She presented you with an offer you could simply not resist. But not in the Godfather kind of way,” she added, looking at Max. “I can assure you that there were no horse heads in any beds.”

“I’m relieved to hear that,” Max replied humorously.

“Norah, would you please stop this?” Tom requested. “I know it may feel good to hurt somebody else when you yourself are hurting. But it usually doesn’t feel good afterwards.”

“And what do you know about true pain, Tom? You’re like the luckiest and most popular person I know. You’re well-respected, have a girlfriend that would do anything for you and you’re pretty much flawless. I mean, seriously, what the hell do you have to complain about?” Norah questioned.

“I suppose that what hurts me the most right now is loving and caring about someone who clearly doesn’t love herself,” Tom replied. “You’re correct in assuming that I consider myself a lucky person. But that doesn’t mean that there are no downsides to my life and career.”

“Poor little rich man,” Norah muttered sarcastically.

“There are things that are more important than money, Norah,” Tom replied, seemingly genuinely hurt by her words.

“That’s easy to say when you have all the money you need, and even more,” Norah muttered, holding back her bad conscience about what she was saying. She was entitled to feel hurt by the fact that they would be leaving her there all alone with strangers. It felt even worse as she thought about what a relief it would be for them to not have to look after her anymore.

“I know you’re hurting, Norah. And I’m so sorry about that,” Tom said and slowly approached her. “You have every right to be angry with us, because we’ve brought you here against your own will. But hopefully, one day, you’ll understand our decision.”

“I’m not an idiot. Of course I understand,” Norah said with tears in her eyes as Tom embraced her. “But it still fucking hurts,” she cried.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” Max told them quietly before leaving the room with the razorblade and the lighter.

Norah opened her eyes as she kept hugging Tom and looked directly at her sister, whose tears ran down her face.

“I love you,” Sarah said and walked up to take her little sister’s hand in her own. She kissed it. “I love you so much it hurts.”

“I love you too,” Norah replied sadly.

Norah still felt sad and let down as the three of them arranged her unpacked things together.

“What’s this?” Norah asked as she was looking at her desk. There were two pairs of black pants and a pair of shoes she hadn’t seen before.

“It’s riding pants. One pair is for the winter season, and the other pair is for when it gets a little bit warmer outside,” Sarah explained. “And the shoes have steel toe-caps in case a horse steps on your feet.”

“So you’ve taken for granted that I will want to ride the horses?” Norah asked her.

“I know how much you love animals, so I assumed that you would want to spend time with the horses now that you have the opportunity to,” Sarah replied.

“Thank you,” Norah said appreciatively and put the clothes in the closet. She held back a smile at the sight of two jigsaw puzzles with a thousand pieces in each. One of the puzzles had the painting ‘The Scream’ by Edvard Munch on it and the other one had ‘The Starry Night’ by Vincent van Gogh.

“I bought a game called Pandemic,” Sarah said and moved the various toiletries away from the rectangular cardboard box. “I figured you could play it with the others.”

“You want me to socialise,” Norah concluded with a sigh and walked up to the sink attached to the wall to look at herself in the mirror. Her mascara and eyeliner were slightly smudged from her crying earlier, so she grabbed her makeup bag and proceeded to fix it. She caught Sarah and Tom smiling at each other, as if they were happy about her new found vanity. Months ago, Norah wouldn’t have bothered to put any makeup on to begin with. But she felt differently about that now. She wanted to look good and not make a fool out of herself in front of the other people staying at that place, especially not those her own age.

Right after Sarah and Tom left, Max sat down with Norah so they could fix her week plan together. Norah frowned when she saw the meal times on her week plan. According to the plan she was expected to eat six times a day, just like she had when she had been underweight. In the last few weeks she had skipped having snacks once, twice, sometimes three times a day.

“This must be a mistake,” Norah said. “I don’t need to eat snacks between meals anymore.”

“You’ve stopped having snacks in between meals?” Max asked her with a slight frown and looked through his papers. “According to my papers, your doctor hasn’t authorised that.”

“I’m not underweight, so I don’t need to eat that much,” Norah told him decidedly and crossed her arms.

“According to your doctor, you still need to follow your meal plan,” Max insisted. “Look Norah, you’ve only just reached a weight that’s acceptable. It’s a vulnerable time period for you and you will need extra support to keep up the good and normal eating habits so you don’t start losing weight again.”

“Normal?!” Norah questioned angrily. “My sister doesn’t normally eat six times a day. If it hadn’t been for me, she probably would have skipped most meals to study instead.”

“Your sister strikes me as a very dedicated person. Based on my conversations with her, she cares about you a lot and wants you back home as soon as possible,” Max said. “When it comes to the number of meals you need to eat, I really have no say. It’s up to the doctors.”

“To hell with the doctors then! I won’t do it!” Norah informed him angrily, causing Max to frown slightly at her.

“Noncompliance to your treatment plan won’t get you home any faster, Norah. If you want more freedom, you have to prove that you can handle it by taking responsibility,” Max reasoned. “I know it might sound a bit harsh, but that’s the way it is. It’s for your own good.”

“I thought you said this was a treatment facility, but it sounds more like a correctional facility,” Norah told him bitterly.

“Trust me, this is not a correctional facility by any means. They’re very different to this,” Max assured her.

“In what ways?” Norah questioned.

“A lot of ways,” Max said. “You won’t be under constant surveillance here, you will not be locked into your room at night and you have nowhere near all the restrictions people in correctional facilities have. Trust me. This place is very different and much preferable.”

“To me this feels like a prison,” Norah said with a frustrated sigh.

“You haven’t even been here for two hours yet,” Max pointed out. “So how can you possibly know what it’s like already?”

“I already know that I hate it. It’s really a waste of resources to have me here. Please, give this ‘opportunity’, as you all love to call it, to someone who will actually do something with their life, instead of me,” Norah told him.

“Is that the real problem here?” Max asked her pensively. “Do you feel guilty for taking up a spot and are you afraid of disappointing people?”

“I always disappoint people,” Norah said quietly and laid down on the bed. “That’s the only thing I’m really good at in life. Being a fucking disappointment.”

“That’s not true and you need to stop thinking it is,” Max told her insightfully. “You seem tired, Norah. Do you want to take a break and talk more about your week plan later tonight or tomorrow instead?” he asked her.

“Yeah, I want a break,” Norah told him.

“Okay,” Max agreed and stood up, gathering his papers. “Can you set an alarm for ten to six PM on your phone? You’re expected to be in the dining room ready for dinner at six on the dot. I suggest you use the toilet before that, because you won’t be excused from the table during dinner but will have to finish your food before you can leave and then you will have an hour of quiet time in the big common room after you have finished your meal.”

“That’s not fair! I’m at normal weight so I don’t need quiet time, damn it!” Norah protested and felt like acting out her anger in some way.

“I understand that it makes you upset and that’s perfectly fine,” Max validated her. “But like I said before, this is a vulnerable time for you in your recovery process. You’ll need extra support to get through this. It won’t be as bad as it sounds, Norah. You’ll notice that the routines here are quite different from the routines in locked psychiatric wards. Things are not as strictly regulated here, but a ground stone for the treatment here at Willow’s Creek is mutual trust between attendants and staff members,” he calmly explained to her. Norah absolutely hated the fact that the staff insisted on calling the patients attendants, as if that would really make any difference. In her ears, it was nothing but a silly change in wording to make it sound more convenient for the people working there and reading about the place. It didn’t change the fact that the people treated there were in fact patients with limited power over their own lives. When Norah kept glaring at him he sighed and asked her “Do you have a list of things you can do when you feel upset to regulate your emotions?”

“If I had one, I would probably tear it apart right now,” Norah muttered bitterly.

“I strongly suggest that you don’t destroy information booklets or working material when you get upset, Norah,” Max advised her. “At this stage in the process, compliance is key. You need to show that you can take responsibility before you can move on to the next step.”

“I thought this place was supposed to make people like me more independent, but if you’re requiring blind compliance without questioning, it’s in fact doing the exact opposite,” Norah argued, crossing her arms.

“You need to show that you can act responsibly before gaining more freedom to grow independent, and one way of doing that is to adhere to our regulations,” Max informed her. “Freedom under responsibility. It’s one of our mottos. I strongly suggest that you read through the material we sent you.”

“I don’t have it, after I tore apart the brochure, my sister took it from me,” Norah explained, causing Max to sigh.

“If I give you a new set of material, do you promise you won’t destroy it in any way?” Max asked her.

“Sure,” Norah replied. “Could you give me something I can destroy too then?”

“You don’t need to destroy things, Norah,” Max told her and looked at her sympathetically before leaving the room.

Norah laid back down on the bed and quickly fell asleep. Of course she forgot to set her alarm, resulting in her getting woken up by Max after she had failed to turn up to dinner on time.

“I thought I told you to set an alarm so you wouldn’t be late for dinner,” Max told her.

“I never said I would, though,” Norah replied irritably as she forced herself to get out of bed.

“This is your first warning,” Max informed her brittly as he led her to the dining room.

“Warning?” Norah questioned confusedly.

“You can ask the other attendants to explain it to you,” Max suggested and walked with her all the way to the long table where he pulled out an empty chair for her. “This is your assigned seat. Since you were late for dinner, someone has already put food on your plate for you. When you’re on time, you can do it yourself,” he explained to her in a clear voice. “Do you have any questions?”

“Yeah, why are you such a dick?” Norah asked him irritably and stubbornly refused to sit down by the table.

“Second warning,” Max informed her calmly but with a warning look, causing her to frown.

“But I just answered your question,” she objected.

“You were being deliberately rude,” Max remarked. “If you were wondering why I’m so strict, you should have phrased it differently.”

“Is this some kind of test?” Norah asked him confusedly and he smiled at her.

“No, but you’re clearly testing the limits, which is why I have to put my foot down,” Max explained to her in a way that she couldn’t help but find somewhat condescending.

“Blind compliance is not independence! It’s sheep mentality! Which is the complete opposite of independent thinking! Are you a fucking shepherd?! And we’re nothing but sheep in your eyes?!” Norah questioned angrily, raising her voice a lot more than intended. She could feel the other patients and staff stare at her as Max pulled her aside, a few metres away from the long table for some privacy.

“Either you sit down and eat with the others right now, or you get to sit over there with me and my colleague and eat. Which one do you prefer?” Max asked her. He was firm, but still surprisingly calm.

“I don’t want to sit with you,” Norah muttered.

“Then I expect you to act responsibly and not raise your voice like that again. I really should give you a third warning for this outburst of yours, but I’m going easy on you since this is your first day here. But keep in mind that this kind of behaviour is not acceptable here,” Max told her firmly. “Is that understood?”

“Yes,” Norah said, feeling so small and powerless all of a sudden. She had no idea how this place worked and just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

“Good,” Max replied with a breezy smile and walked off to a smaller table on the other side of the dining room.

Aileen frowned in confusion at his sudden change of demeanour as she sat down at the long table and noted that there didn’t appear to be any staff members sitting with the patients to supervise them during the meal. She counted it to twelve patients around the long table, herself included. The staff members were sitting at a table near the kitchen area and didn’t seem to pay too much attention to the patients at all.

“You must be the new girl, I’m Lexi,” the girl seated to her left greeted her with a polite smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Lexi. I’m Norah,” Norah introduced herself.

“Can I give you a piece of advice?” Lexi asked her.

“Sure,” Norah said.

“Don’t argue with the staff like that. You don’t want to get on their bad side. They’re nice to you if you’re nice to them,” Lexi told her.

“And if I’m not nice to them?” Norah wondered.

“Then your stay here will become more difficult and quite possibly longer,” Lexi replied. “Noncompliance to the rules equals more restrictions. If you want more freedom, you have to dance to their pipe.”

“Like the rats in the story of the pied piper,” Norah reflected. “The rats all drowned, you know. Do you think they see us as vermin?” she asked, nodding at the staff’s table.

“You have interesting thoughts,” Lexi told her with a smile. “They’re not tricking us, though. They’re trying to help us adapt to the expectations the real world is going to have on us once we get out of here.”

“That’s what they’re brainwashing you into believing,” Norah replied.

“That sounds paranoid,” the boy to Norah’s right commented with an amused look on his face. “Don’t let the staff hear you say things like that, because they will use it against you,” he advised her.

“So you’re paranoid too then,” Norah concluded with a smile.

“I prefer the term realistic,” the boy replied humorously. “I’m James, by the way.”

“I’m Norah,” she replied. “What does a warning entail?”

“If you get three warnings, you lose a privilege,” James replied.

“So they’re using punishment?” Norah said incredulously. “Such assholes.”

“I know right,” James agreed with an amused look on his face.

“Don’t listen too much to James. He’s been here for five weeks and is still not allowed to leave the facility at all,” Lexi advised Norah. “I’ve been here for four weeks and can leave the facility alone and with friends.”

“He’s not allowed to leave at all?” Norah questioned confusedly. “Not even with his family?”

“Nope, I’m still in the red group,” James replied.

“Why, though?” Norah questioned.

“Because he insists on being rebellious and irresponsible. He’s run away twice already even though it’s futile,” Lexi said.

“I really don’t get why they’re not just throwing me out,” James said with a sigh. “Any other place I’ve been to would have done that by now.”

“So that strategy doesn’t appear to work then,” Norah reflected. “That’s rather discouraging.”

“Were you planning on trying it?” James asked her amusedly.

“I suppose I considered it,” Norah admitted. “They’re not supervising the meal. Will they notice if I don’t eat it all? Are they surveilling us in other ways? Does everyone mind their own business or are there informants among us?”

“I’m pretty sure they have their ways, because they tend to find things out sooner or later. You should be careful with who you trust,” James told her and shot Lexi a dirty look. “Lexi’s been climbing the ladder suspiciously fast, for example. I wouldn’t trust her if I were you.”

“I’m far more reliable than you are. They trust me because I’m doing what they’re asking me to. Don’t take out your own failures on me,” Lexi told him irritably. “Grow up and start taking responsibility, rather than blaming everyone else for your mistakes and failures. It’s not noble or cool to stand up to authorities just for the sake of it, James. It’s stupid.”

“It might not be functional at all times, but surely there’s something commendable in standing up for what you think is right,” Norah reasoned.

“That’s not what he’s doing, though,” Lexi objected. “I would understand that, but what James is doing is just immature and self-destructive.”

“Can’t it be both?” Norah questioned, causing James to grin at her.

“I like this one,” James established and quickly finished up his food before leaving the table with his plate, glass and cutlery to place in the dishwasher. “Thanks for the dinner, whoever cooked it,” he said with a grin and playfully saluted the other patients around the long table. There was something about James that made Norah feel instantly drawn to him; he had charisma and there was something interestingly mischievous about his demeanour.

“Are you required to say thank you for dinner?” Norah asked Lexi who smiled at her.

“Yes, you’re expected to do that because it’s considered polite,” Lexi confirmed. “They like good manners. You should really read up on the rules and routines around here, Norah. It will make it a lot easier for you to adapt to this place. Have you downloaded the app yet?”

“There’s an app?” Norah questioned with a frown.

“Yes. Your login information should be in the admittance letter you received before you got here,” Lexi explained. “We’re not supposed to take out our phones during meals, unless we have a really good reason to, but I can show you how the app works later, if you like,” she offered.

“Okay, thank you, Lexi,” Norah said appreciatively.

“Don’t forget to eat, Norah. You already have two warnings,” Lexi reminded her.

Norah sighed heavily and reluctantly ate from the vegetarian food option that had been placed on a plate for her. Lexi was soon done with her own meal and left the table, thanking two other patients for the dinner before placing her plate, glass and cutlery into the dishwasher. Norah looked around her immediate surroundings to make a risk calculation. The table was nearly empty of patients by now and no one was really paying attention to her, so she placed some food in a couple of napkins and hid it in her pocket. Her plate was nearly empty, so she followed the other patients’ examples and thanked the patients Lexi had thanked for the dinner earlier, before throwing away the leftovers in the compost bag and placing the plate, glass and cutlery into the dishwasher. She discreetly took the napkins with food from her pocket and pushed them down into the ordinary trash bin, and washed her hands in the kitchen sink afterwards.

Realising that she did not really know what to do next, Norah reluctantly walked up to the table where Max and his colleague Jane were at.

“Umm, what do I do now?” Norah asked them tentatively.

“Did you finish your meal?” Max asked her and she nodded. “All of it?”

“Most of it. I just threw away a little bit of rice in the compost because the ratio was off. There was too much rice in relation to the lentil stew,” Norah explained.

“That’s why you should make sure to be on time, so you can balance the ratio the way you like,” Max told her. “You were supposed to finish all the food on your plate, not throw some of it away in the compost.”

“But I saw plenty of others do it,” Norah argued.

“Not everyone has the same history of illness as you do, Norah. You all have individual rules,” Max explained. “But I appreciate your honesty about throwing away the rice, and it gladdens me that you thanked the chefs for the dinner and cleared your place at the table,” he commended her. Norah felt impatient as she stood there and listened to him. She found him insufferable at the moment. “I’m also pleased that you came here to ask about what to do next. Of course, it would be optimal if you actually had read the information you received from your doctor before you got here, but asking for guidance is the next best thing.”

Norah couldn’t resist sighing audibly and let her impatience show as he never seemed to get to the answer to her question on what to do next.

“Okay, but what am I expected to do now?” Norah asked him impatiently.

“Have one hour of quiet time in the big common room. I told you that earlier,” Max reminded her.

“Okay, so do I time it myself then?” Norah asked him and he nodded. She gave him an odd look and began walking towards the big common room while checking the time on her phone. ‘19.07’ She then sighed and turned back towards Max, realising that she still felt pretty much clueless as to what to do. “What exactly does quiet time here entail?” she asked frustratedly, causing him to smile at her and get up from his seat.

“Why don’t you go sit in the big common room and I’ll be there in a moment with all the information you need,” he suggested and she nodded in agreement.

Norah walked to the big common room that she had been shown during the tour Max had so enthusiastically given her, Sarah and Tom a few hours earlier. Max had been talking so much during the guided tour of the place that she had eventually just decided to block out most of his words by discreetly placing a headphone in one of her ears to listen to music in order to make the whole ordeal less insufferable.

There were surprisingly many of the patients in the big common room, Norah noted. After quickly counting them, she concluded that two thirds of the patients she had seen at dinner were in there. The big common room was a large open area with different sections. There were two different TV sections in opposite corners of the large room, allowing two different groupings to watch different things together without disturbing each other. There were a couple of desks with computers placed against a wall, various reading corners with lamps and tables with chairs that opened up for various activities. There were shelves with books, board games, puzzles and various art supplies.

“Couldn’t you decide where to sit?” Max asked her with a friendly smile as he walked up to her with a file folder and other various supplies in his arms. “Let’s sit over here, then,” he decided and walked up to an empty table.

Norah followed him and watched as he placed the pile of things on the table’s surface. Max smiled as he saw the sceptical look on her face and pulled out a chair for her so they would be seated next to each other.

“Will this be another infodump of yours?” Norah asked sullenly as she reluctantly sat down next to him.

“I’ve noticed that you’re not too keen on me talking too much, so I’ll try to restrain myself and keep it as brief as I can,” Max assured her. “You wanted to know more about quiet time, right?” he asked and turned the pages in the file folder. Norah frowned upon noticing that some of the pages were laminated.

“Yep. Keep it short and simple, please, because I’m dumb as a bag of rocks,” Norah requested.

“Do you really expect me to believe that after your rant about sheep mentality and independent thinking? You made it quite obvious that you’re a thinker, Norah,” Max told her. “You’re not dumb, you’re rather impatient and have a limited attention span. That’s something completely different.”

“Nah, I’m just dumb,” Norah insisted and looked down at the page he had turned to and sighed frustratedly at their circumstantial wording and consistent use of the word attendant instead of patient. She already hated the place and seriously doubted that it would get any better with time.

A week passed by and Norah had been devastated at the fact that in accordance with their routines, patients weren’t allowed to leave the facility at all during their first week at Willow’s Creek. She felt tricked, even though the only reason she hadn’t known about how things really worked at the treatment facility when she had been coaxed into getting into the car that day, was that she had straight out refused to listen to or read any more information about it after the decision about her going there had been made over her head. It had all been made available to her, but she had been in complete denial about the fact that she was going whether she liked it or not until the very end.

Norah had lost both her phone and internet privileges within the first twenty four hours of getting there, so she couldn’t even vent about her misfortune to anyone on the outside. Instead, James had become her primary conversation partner since he appeared to be the one who she could relate to the most of the other patients. Max and her other contact persons in the facility had hinted to her that Lexi or some other of the more treatment compliant patients would make a more appropriate company for her.

Norah found herself sitting in an office for an evaluation meeting of her first week at Willow’s Creek with Sarah, Tom, her contact person Dave, the facility’s psychiatrist, psychologist and a social worker. Norah kept spacing out, not really paying attention to what was being said during the meeting, but stared out the second floor window at the treetops of the woods situated near the building they were currently in. There had been several ‘mindfulness walks’ in those woods during the past week which she had appreciated more than she liked to admit. While being deprived of other privileges, Norah had at least been allowed to participate in some outdoor and group activities despite not adhering to the regulations as much as the people there wanted her to.

“Norah,” Dave said and gently touched her shoulder, attracting her attention. Everything about him was gentle and he was so mild mannered that she couldn’t help but like him.

“What?” Norah asked dazedly and looked at him.

“They were asking you about the roof incident that occurred a couple of nights ago,” Dave informed her. “Could you explain to them what happened?”

“Oh, that was just James and I stargazing,” Norah told the others with a shrug. “The sky is so much clearer here at night than it is in London. We looked for and listed different star signs we were able to identify because we had read about them in a book. It was purely for educational purposes, and not at all unnecessary risk taking behaviour, as you put it,” she added and glared at the psychiatrist. “You can’t really stargaze in daylight, now can you? So it had to be in the middle of the night. You’re making a big deal out of nothing, really.”

“You can stargaze from the ground,” the psychiatrist informed her brittly.

“Well, what’s the fun in that?” Norah questioned irritably. “It wasn’t like we were on top of a high rise or anything. We weren’t really taking that big of a risk climbing out a window and onto the roof on a building that only has three floors. It’s not that high a fall if anyone was to tumble down, and it was grass on the side we were at, so there wouldn’t really be that hard of a surface to land on anyway,” she argued.

“It’s January, Norah. The ground is still pretty hard from the cold, even if it’s covered by grass,” Tom pointed out, supporting the psychiatrist’s view. “It’s also pretty high a fall if you would tumble down from that roof, so you could actually hurt yourself quite severely if you’re unlucky. Possibly even die.”

“But we didn’t fall!” Norah reminded them irritably. “We were actually really careful, believe it or not.”

“Norah, can you please promise me not to do it again?” Sarah requested and gave her a pleading look.

“You don’t trust me anyway, so what difference does it make if I promise you anything or not?” Norah questioned.

“If you really want to regain my trust, you should do it by making promises and keeping them,” Sarah told her.

“But I don’t want to make that promise, because I’m not sure I can keep it. I really enjoyed being on that roof and looking at the stars,” Norah told her honestly. “We used to do that as kids with Dad, remember? Get up on the roof in the middle of the night to look at Orion’s belt and all those other star signs. This experience reminded me of how many good times we had with Dad. Even if a lot of the things he did weren’t conventional, I wouldn’t change any of it for the world. I miss him, you know. I miss him so much and James kind of reminds me of him sometimes. He makes me feel closer to him.”

Sarah’s eyes filled with tears at her little sister’s words as the memories of various night time adventures with their father came rushing back to her. Their childhood had been rather odd in some ways and at the same time so ordinary in others. Their parents had complemented each other in a way that made it all work out somehow, providing them with both stability and excitement.

“Is it possible for me to meet this James?” Sarah asked and looked questioningly at the psychiatrist who seemed a bit taken aback.

“Why do you want to see him?” the psychiatrist wondered.

“I want to talk to him and make sure that he understands how important it is that he doesn’t put Norah at risk again,” Sarah explained. “I don’t want to discourage their friendship altogether if it means so much to her, but I want James to understand that he needs to be more careful for both of their sakes. If Norah cares for him, then so do I. Does he have a lot of people who care for him and let him know about it?” she wondered.

The psychiatrist looked thoughtful for a moment and shared a look with the psychologist.

“Mira, what do you think about Sarah’s suggestion?” the psychiatrist asked the psychologist.

“I think it sounds like a good idea,” Mira said honestly. “Provided that James and his legal guardian agree to the meeting, I think it could be very beneficial for him to hear those things Sarah just mentioned. It might inspire him to take better care of himself.”

“I agree with you,” the psychiatrist said after a moment’s consideration. “Do you think you could try to contact his legal guardian now and see if he agrees to the meeting?”

“Of course,” Mira said with a warm smile and left the office to tend to the task right away.

Norah was a bit taken aback by the sudden turn of events and shift of atmosphere in the room. She felt really grateful towards both Sarah and Mira at that moment, and even towards the psychiatrist, who surprisingly enough had appeared to be reasonable and compassionate for once.

“Did that just really happen?” Norah asked Dave quietly and he smiled amusedly at her as he nodded to confirm that it had.

“Norah, can I have your attention for a moment?” the psychiatrist asked in her usual assertive manner. Norah forced herself to look at the woman who always looked so stern and uptight with her neat clothes and grey hair up in a bun so tight that it was almost painful to look at.

“Doesn’t it hurt keeping your hair in such a tight bun?” Norah asked spontaneously, not intending to be rude, but out of pure curiosity. “Is that why you’re often so bitter? Because you’re in constant pain from head to toe with that bun and those high heels you’re wearing?”

“Please, excuse her,” Sarah interjected and smiled apologetically at the psychiatrist. “Norah hasn’t been socially interacting with that many people for the last few years, so she sometimes just speaks her mind and doesn’t really consider how what she says might be perceived. She often doesn’t mean anything by it… Actually, she’s always been like that,” the older sister realised. “There would often be misunderstandings at school when she was younger related to social difficulties, but our mother didn’t want to go through with letting her have a neuropsychological assessment.”

“Is that so?” the psychiatrist asked with interest and scrutinised Norah with her small grey eyes. “Now that you say so, it doesn’t seem all that unlikely that there may be some underlying neuropsychiatric condition that could explain some of her divergent behavioural patterns and unevenness in cognitive and social functioning.”

“And now they’re talking over my head again,” Norah mumbled and walked up to the window, opening it to let in some cold fresh air. “I just needed some fresh oxygen. This is a rather small and not all too well ventilated room for so many people,” she explained when she had turned around to find the others staring at her like she had done something inappropriate.

Dave smiled at her as he walked up to her and waited for a moment to let some more air into the room before shutting the window again.

“You know, people usually forewarn the others in a room before opening up a window in the middle of winter. It gets pretty cold,” Dave informed her amusedly as they both walked back to their seats.

“I suppose that would be the customary thing to do,” Norah agreed and smiled when she noticed that Tom was looking at her with a hint of amusement. She liked it when she managed to awaken positive feelings within him. She really wanted to make him feel happy. “When can I go back home again?” Norah wondered as she laid down in the armchair, swinging her legs over one armrest and resting her head against the other.

“It’s still too early to set a date,” the psychiatrist told her. “The average commitment period for attendants here is somewhere between three and a half to five months. We want to achieve long term results with sustainable changes. We are very keen on seeing our attendants succeed once they’re discharged. The transition period sometimes takes a couple of weeks, which is one of the reasons that the average treatment period here is so long.”

“That’s too long,” Norah said despondently and looked at the psychiatrist. “Do you think my time here might end up being shorter than it is for the average patient? Or attendant, as you like to call it,” she corrected herself.

“No, I don’t think so,” the psychiatrist told her honestly. “I know it’s not the answer you wanted to hear, but I want to be honest with you. You really shouldn’t rush processes such as these if you can avoid it. It’s good that you’re eager to go back home, Norah, but we really shouldn’t rush this. Especially considering your long history of mental illness and everything that has happened in your life. You need time and therapy to process it.”

“I can live at home and do outpatient treatment, like it’s usually done. I really don’t need to be here,” Norah argued. “It’s a nice location and all, but I don’t think this place is right for me. I’m more trouble than it’s worth.”

“You sound an awful lot like a certain young man whose name I won’t mention,” the psychiatrist stated as she looked thoughtfully at Norah. “Like with him, I think this is precisely the right place for you to be right now. I truly believe that we can help you here. You just need to let your guard down and start to accept the help and guidance we have to offer. This can turn out to be a life changing and positive experience for you if you just let it.”

“But why do you think independence starts with blind compliance?” Norah questioned with a frown. “It doesn’t make sense to me.”

“If you start to act responsibly and make a habit out of it, you will have an easier time adapting to society’s demands rather than getting overwhelmed by them once discharged. In order to become truly independent, you also have to be responsible,” the psychiatrist reasoned. “Complying to treatment and adhering to rules is in itself a responsible behaviour.”

“Not if the treatment is faulty and the rules are senseless,” Norah objected spontaneously.

“Norah! That isn’t a nice thing to say to someone who’s trying to help you,” Tom chided her.

“What?” Norah questioned with a frown as she sat up straight in the armchair. “I just meant that if the treatment were to be faulty and the rules senseless, it wouldn’t really be responsible or wise of an individual to dance after the piper’s tune just to either drown in a river or to never be seen again. Now would it?”

“Norah, why are you likening this situation to an old folklore?” Tom questioned and sighed.

“Am I?” Norah asked confusedly. “I was speaking hypothetically, Tom. I thought that was pretty obvious. It would be ridiculous to take offence by a hypothetical scenario. I’m not saying that the psychiatrist is like the pied piper.”

“Surely you must understand that it can be interpreted that way when you say it like that?” Tom asked insistently.

“Then the person would be reading too much into what I’m saying,” Norah told him. “It’s just a bunch of humbug. Like everything else I have to say, it ultimately doesn’t matter. That would be truly nonsensical; if someone was to listen to me when I speak of the pied piper, but not when I expressly say that I neither want nor need to be here,” she reasoned.

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[weenwrites]

Hello! Just finished reading your Rachet soulmate au post. I loved it!🧡🧡🧡 Could you do one for Starscream too?🥺🥺🥺

Soulmate AU Part 2

Summary - In a world where people are bound by destiny to meet their soulmate, how would a cybertronian react to learning their soulmate is a human from Earth? Characters - Starscream Content - Angst, Fluff Category - Headcanons Trigger Warnings - None

✎ A/N: Sure thing! Also I'm real happy to know you enjoyed the previous ones I did!

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]

First Words/Soulmate's Name: Starscream would come to the realization that his S/O was most likely an alien from another planet, and he did have a couple expectations. That the universe would match him with someone whom he'd consider worthy, but he's heard about other peoples' soulmates and how they're sometimes a disaster or how sometimes someone's soulmate is the person you'd least expect, but he still can't help but get his hopes up.

He used to bear his soulmark so very proudly, (also in hopes that it would help him find his soulmate quicker) so you can imagine how upset he is when he discovers his soulmate is a human. Other bots aboard the Nemesis would occasionally mock and ridicule him for being destined to a human soulmate, so much so that he now hides it and actively tries to avoid meeting his potential soulmate by staying away from human populated areas.

He tries to keep himself and his potential soulmate from ever meeting, no matter the cost, and no matter how much other people tell him that he can't stop something that's fated to be, it doesn't deter him from trying in the slightest.

A Beautiful Flourish of Color/Something Else: He'd have absolutely no idea that his soulmate was a human, so even after he came to Earth, he wouldn't hide it out of shame. But he would worry over loosing it or the possibility that it would get damaged, so he tries to take care of himself the best he can (which he always has, ever since he learned he was destined to have a soulmate).

How it Goes: The first meeting, no matter where or when it happens, never goes well. No matter how nice you seem, or how friendly you are towards him, he holds so much resentment towards you—despite not knowing you—that he's the one who ruins the first meeting. If, for some reason you stick around, and he sees you frequently, he always acts so snappy and gives you an attitude, more than he does anyone else. It'll take a long time for him to even consider giving you a chance, and whether you meet before or after his encounter with M.E.C.H. will make it harder to get close to him.

He tries to avoid you like the plague, but chances are that Megatron's decided to punish him by assigning him as your guardian and you as his charge, so he can't really stay away from you. Not when he's now responsible for your general safety. He's thought of trying to get rid of you, but Megatron made it clear that he has to keep you alive unless he wants to be punished.

He'll give you an attitude, he'll poke and cringe at you, and he'll point out how much he despises you. He does you the bare minimum by giving you even a crumb of his time, and he complains about how 'needy' you are. You might have even heard him talking to Knockout, ranting about how much he hates the universe for offloading onto him the burden that is watching after you.

If you keep on trying to befriend him, he happens to warm up to you in time. How this happens, he does not know, but he seems more open to talking to you than he was in the beginning. Although, he's still as snappy and rude at times, so it may seem like hardly anything's changed between the two of you.

The more he learns about you, the more he truly begins to open up and be less harsh and rude. And the closer he grows, the more he regrets all the things he's said and done. Only in private does he become more vulnerable and open with you, and only then will he understand why Primus gifted you to him.

[the-ampersand]

Elemental Crystals devlog 1

This is going to be a series of posts about my musings and reasoning for designing the ttrpg project I am working on, Elemental Crystals (maybe a placeholder name). As it stands it could be defined as a Golden Sun inspired NSR, but it sits somewhat close to some trad sensibilites, so we will see if that stays like that in future devlogs. Let's dive in!

I have been a huge Golden Sun fan since it was published and given to me as a present from my aunt when I was about six years old. It has some very interesting perspectives and design choices that I have never found again in a videogame. I am not that much of a videogames guy to try to make a successor videogame of any kind. (I also lack the skills to do so and the will to learn them). I am a ttrpg nerd. So that's why I am writing a ttrpg inspired by Golden Sun and its mechanics.

There are two of them that I feel like they are the soul of Golden Sun and I wanted to translate to translate to ttrpg mechanics:

Magic unconstrained to combat/utility

The djinni based class system.

Let's investigate each one separately.

Unconstrained magic

Golden Sun has a cool magic system called Psynergy. Each character has te ability to cast a bunch of spells depending of their class and equipment, typical stuff. Most of the spells are battle focused. They are cool and bombastic effects that deal damage of an elemental type:

There are others that are only used in the overworld, in towns or in dungeons. Utility stuff to solve puzzles and interact with the environment:

But the coolest ones, in my opinion, are the ones that can be used both in battle and as an utility. Like Whirlwind, that can be cast to deal damage to enemies with powerful winds and to remove vines and leaves to open hidden paths or to release stuck objects:

This is not a really novel idea. (Pokemon does something very similar). But I always found quite amazing that there were spells that I could use to attack and to solve problems. There's a rupture from other rpgs like Final Fantasy or Dragon Quest where your spells and abilities are almost exclusively constrained to the combat minigame.

I have previously said that I am not a huge fan of the distinction of combat as a separate minigame in ttrpgs with differentiated mechanics and procedures. In my opinion, following what Blades in the Dark proposed, combat can be treated just as any other conflict and can use the same resolution mechanics and procedures.

So, with all that in mind, my first objective is to make a magic system useful both inside and outside of combat. Because there wouldn't be a combat to be inside or outside of to begin with.

Djinni based class system

While the previous point wasn't exclusive to Golden Sun, this is The Thing that made Golden Sun special, even though you could finish both games without

In most role-playing videogames you can give your character a class or a job (this harks back to the very beginning of D&D, but can be traced even further back with different soldier types in wargames). Many games gave you the ability to change your class during the game or even on the fly. But Golden Sun took it to an altogether new level. It is quite a complex system and mastering it is difficult enough as to prompt some people to make half an hour videos about it. I recommend this one if you want to know more:

Or you can read the pretty in-depth guide of the official wiki:

The most important things of this system are:

You unlock new classes by collecting elemental critters called djinn.

The combination of dijinn assigned to a character and this character's "natural" class determine the final class of the character.

The class gives bonuses to various attributes and the spells available to the character.

The class of a character can change at a moments notice by "preparing" the djinn.

"Prepared" djinn can later be used to cast strong attacks called summons. And after a short rest, the djinn become available again, resetting the character's class.

No character can have more than one djinni more than the rest of the members of the party. You need to share the djinn.

This system felt like quite something special. You could just go through both games just by setting djinn of an element to its corresponding character and be powerful enough through level ups and grinding to beat almost any boss. But you would be missing out on the more exotic classes and spells. There were some secrets that you could only find by mixing up the djinn a bit. It also lead to some interesting effects in combat, like losing a spell at a crucial moment because you prepared a djinni beforehand or an enemy taking a character back to its "natural" class by disabling all their djinn.

This is really cool! I have never seen it anywhere again! It can also be quite difficult to pull off in a ttrpg because you don't have a computer telling you which abilities you have at a moment's notice. So this needs to get heavily simplified. That's the second objective, to build a class system similar to this one, allowing for shifting available spells and that requires cooperation and some planning between the different characters.

Summarizing

The plan is to create a ttrpg system that is able to:

Change the spells available to the characters with relative ease, exchanging among them something akin to the djinn of Golden Sun. Maybe Crystals.

Offer tools that are useful in many situations: either in combat, exploring dungeons or even in a social conflict. Because there wouldn't be a mechanical distinction between those.

It all needs to be simple enough to be managed armed with pen, paper and a rulebook.

Also, considering my own sensibilities I want:

As a proper nod to Golden Sun, I'd love the game to be centered around the Aristotelian four elements of nature: Earth, Fire, Air, Water. Maybe with some silly alchemy references, just because.

The system to be as streamlined as possible. The NSR movement has made a number on me and I prefer simple and minimalist system that puts the precedence on the narrative coherence of the world and avoids rules referring to themselves as much as possible. This includes:

No distinction between combat/out-of-combat (as previously stated).

No "builds" for characters. The character should be ready to go with one or two decisions. Mechanically simple (not plain) characters make for interesting stories.

No leveling systems that require tracking XP or something like that. Character progress and development could exist, but narrative should take precedence.

To encourage cooperation between players. The djinn system already does this, but I want to make sure I write it down.

The game should a degree of tactility or physicality. I would like to find a way to intermingle the basic resolution mechanic with the use of spells in a more satisfying way than just adding or subtracting bonuses, that would be great. (Think of Mothership's death mechanic) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E98kJ3UAm5U

And the thing is that I believe that I have found a way to do all this.

I still need to playtest all this to hell and beyond. And to actually write it down. But I think there's something that could be really cool in all this. And I would love you to join in and either give some critics and opinions or tell me this is nonsense. I hope we will have some interesting conversations along the way!

Anyways, thanks a lot for reading. I will be writing the next devlog asap!

[cryptic-tales]

Infernal Me // Chapter II The Ghost in the Library

Cardinal Copia x Fem!Reader

After your unfortunate meeting with the Cardinal, things only get weirder.

Content: Fluff, Dorky Copia, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers

A/N: I'm gonna post the rest of the chapter here since I forgot to do that. Playlist for this fic is coming, thanks everyone for reading <3

< previous next>

read on ao3

A few uneventful weeks have passed since the incident. During that time, you've dedicated yourself to studying and completing your duties as a Sibling of Sin. From the job that you were assigned to by The Ministry's administration, to doing other minor tasks, like cleaning the chapel and organizing the books in the library, you barely had any time for other leisure activities. With the anticipated summer approaching, you only found yourself buried under the never-ending pile of assignments that you needed to finish before the end of your course. The Ministry was bustling with life. Everyone was in high spirits knowing that the Summer Solstice Festival was getting closer every day. You wished you could share their enthusiasm, but a memory of a certain event has haunted you for weeks.

Embarrassed and flabbergasted, you decided to not think about that strange Cardinal until the memories of the whole event would eventually disappear. For a while, it actually worked. Not even a week after the whole ordeal, you managed to stop thinking about it almost completely. You found yourself thinking about your Ancient Languages course. Even as you stayed up, studying for exams, the event completely dropped your mind.

Yet, every time you saw any figure in a black cassock, your memories would betray you all over again. Each time you would see one of them walking somewhere and minding their own business; not paying attention to you in the slightest, your whole body would freeze in fear. You either stood or sat in place, not moving a muscle until you could get a closer look at their face. So far, you've never run into that peculiar man again. All the Cardinals you've seen turned out to be people you've never met before. None of them had a white eye.

You could remember those mismatched eyes as they stared at you in shock - the mark of favour. You did your reading on the topic and found out the meaning of the eye. It's a gift from the Olde one himself, one that signified a high position in his ranks. Only granted to men chosen by Him. It was an obvious sign that the man whom you had trampled the other day wasn't any other worshipper of Satan. It made you feel even more humiliated. Why you, out of all people, had to be put in that situation?

Sometimes, you felt pathetic for even thinking about that event still. If the said Cardinal wanted to punish or humiliate you for what had happened, he would've done so already. He didn't seek you out, and neither were you trying to identify him, so it felt silly to worry about it. You couldn't help it though. Your anxiety told you that everybody knew what had happened and they all thought you were a disgrace. Maybe, the fact that you haven't made any close friends in the Ministry so far, was one of the factors that contributed to your current mindset. Even though you had a person or two that you would speak to semi-regularly, you would eat most of your meals alone in the dining hall and spend your time in the quiet solitude of the library.

On a positive note, things started getting better. After what felt like an eternity of trying to fit in The Ministry, you had finally found a routine that suit you. You attended the lectures and worked hard as an assistant to Sister Isabella. She was a kind older woman, who worked as a supervisor of Garden's Maintenance. You helped her with organizing the meetings and schedules for Siblings of Sin that were taking care of the Ministry's greenery. From tasks like cutting grass to maintaining the fountains and plants. It was no surprise that Sister Isabella was often booked and busy. Keeping up with her tight schedule would prove to be quite difficult. You were sitting by a small desk in her office, talking with a meek Brother of Sin named Cornelius. You knew him from your Demonology course. Cornelius was always nice to you but preferred to keep to himself. He was nervously gesticulating with his hands. Trying to explain why he wouldn't be able to attend to the greenhouse in the East Garden the following Monday. Then, a loud knocking on the office's doors paused the awkward conversation.

"Yes? You may come in." You called out. Brother Cornelius found himself at a loss of words as an imposingly tall, masked figure opened the door and walked towards you. Putting a letter on your desk before bowing, the Ghoul left as quickly as he had come in. You recognized him as a messenger Ghoul, one that many higher-ups would use to deliver important parcels and letters. After a quick look at the letter that he left on your desk, you recognized the red wax seal on it. It was a signature of your Ancient Languages professor, Sister Alya.

"What is it, something important?" Cornelius asked curiously, trying to take a look at the piece of paper in your hands.

You hid it from his view, "No, it's nothing important. When it comes to the greenhouse, you need to find a Sibling that will switch their schedule with you." You passed him a sheet of paper with a few names on it. "I suggest you do it yourself, as it would take a long time to do it through me or Sister Bella. I'm sure that would be no problem since you all work in the same groups, correct? When you find someone willing to do that, let me know."

Taken aback by your firm response, Cornelius nodded his head shyly. He looked like he was about to say something before the nerves got the best of him. You gave him a quick smile before putting a few sentences down in your notebook. After Brother Cornelius had bid you farewell and left the office, you found yourself alone again. In the quiet privacy of Sister Isabella's empty office, you pulled out the wax-sealed letter and looked at it for a while.

A million thoughts raced through your mind, making your head throb. You had no idea why Sister Alya would send you a letter, and why she would use a messenger Ghoul. You always assumed they were asked to deliver very urgent messages, you couldn't think of anything urgent that she would need to tell you.

Realizing that you couldn't keep looking at the letter and thinking about the worst-case scenarios, you decided to open it. With a quick move, you've broken the seal and opened the envelope. Taking out the sheet of paper that was inside and reading through it carefully.

Sister,

I would like to speak with you. There's an opportunity that recently presented itself, and I'm sure it will interest you. I'm sorry if this message seems a bit cryptic, but I'm in a hurry as I'm writing this. Please come to my office today after dinner, I want to discuss this with you.

Yours truly,

Sister Alya Clemmons.

The paper felt expensive to the touch, it smelled of Sisters Alya's signature perfume. You stared at the black letters for a long while. You thought about every word before neatly folding the letter and putting it back in the envelope. It didn't sound that bad. Actually, the letter sounded positive. At least you knew you weren't in trouble, but the 'opportunity' that Alya mentioned did indeed sound cryptic. With a more positive attitude, you decided that you couldn't wait to find out.

You managed to finish filling in the paperwork before noon. When Isabella came back from her morning meeting with Sister Imperator, she was in a wonderful mood. You knew it meant that she would let you leave early.

"Finished already?" She asked, surprised. Her bright green eyes shone with some indescribable energy, one that was hard to find in a person her age. "Alright dear, you may go now. Go for a walk, and drink some coffee. Do you have any chores yet to finish?"

It wasn't unusual for Sister Isabella to bombard you with questions. They were always sweet, almost in a concerned grandma kind of way. You found it comforting that she was so worried about your well-being. Making sure that you were eating, getting fresh air and drinking enough water.

"No Sister, I'm pretty sure I don't have any chores left to finish today. I think I'm just gonna head to my room and take a nap," you answered, giving her a brief smile.

She nodded, "Alrighty then, enjoy your free day."

With that, you turned and headed to the exit. The heavy, oak doors closed behind you. The corridor outside was empty except for a group of Siblings of Sin standing by the window. Paying no mind to them, you turned right and began walking to the living quarters. You thought briefly about going to the canteen first and getting a coffee but got a better idea. Stopping for a moment to think, you turned swiftly on your heel and went in the opposite direction.

The weather was chilly and cloudy, leaving everybody feeling a bit under the weather. You were no exception, yawning loudly while pulling your black cardigan tighter around yourself. You felt sleepy, even though you got a full night of rest. It seemed everything and everyone was a bit sluggish, Sister of Sin passing you slowly like barely-awake zombies. Strolling through the hallways, you finally found yourself outside of the library.

The huge archway that led inside was barely lit up by a small chandelier hanging high up above your head. As you stepped inside, you found yourself in the grand library. Looking ahead, you had a view of the labyrinth of bookshelves on the ground floor and no soul in sight. A faint clicking of a typing machine could be heard somewhere in the distance, piercing the silence. Above you, there was the second floor of bookshelves, a skylight above that let the natural sunlight in and a huge, heavy-looking chandelier.

You made your way deeper into the library, passing by study desks hidden between the shelves. You passed by countless shelves filled with religious texts before finding yourself in the secular section. Never-ending rows of books sorted by different categories and arranged alphabetically surrounded you. So far, there wasn't a book that you wouldn't be able to find there. In the small Abbey you grew up in, most of the library’s assortment consisted of books on Satanistic practices and rituals, severely lacking in any other genres. Here, you could finally enjoy some popular literature. That’s why, on slow days such as this, you would find yourself there more often than not.

Tucked away in the corner of the library, on a beautiful ruby rug, stood two armchairs. Both of them were big in size and covered in delicate, red fabric. Right behind them, there was a window draped in thick, brown curtains. The soft cushions of the chairs looked so inviting when they came into your view. You approached the shelves first before heading to your favourite reading spot. Slowly scanning over the titles displayed, your hand lingered over a mysterious book you’ve been eyeing for some time now. Right before grabbing it, you changed your mind and reached for a collection of Poe’s short stories you’d started reading a while back. With the current weather, some murder mystery seemed to be a perfect choice.

You were finally about to make your way to the reading nook. So far, you’ve never run into anybody in that particular spot. You had a few places where you would go to wind down after a day of hard work, this one, in particular, was your favourite. You would change locations often, especially if this one was already occupied by someone. You last wanted to impose and interrupt someone’s alone time. That’s why, when you peeked through the gap between the neatly organized tomes onto the next aisle and saw a figure moving soundlessly among the shelves, you stopped in your tracks. A man adorned in a traditional black cassock was a few feet away from you, yet he didn’t even notice your presence. He was mumbling to himself, looking over the titles on the shelves while rubbing his chin in concentration. You were surprised you didn’t hear from or see him earlier. About to back out slowly, trying your hardest not to turn his attention from the books, you froze. Like a bolt of lightning striking you, you were shocked by a sudden realization.

Your eyes were immediately drawn to black circles of makeup surrounding his eyes and leather gloves covering his hands. They creaked quietly when he moved to place his palm against his forehead, sighing heavily. He unexpectedly moved in your direction and you felt all your insides drop. He walked past the spot from which you were looking at him, and went further down the aisle, before stopping suddenly, clapping his hands and letting out an audible “Ah!”. You watched as he picked one of the books and quickly skimmed through the pages. As quietly as you could, you moved closer and saw his white ghoulish eye moving quickly over the text. The other one of his mismatched irises was so dark you could barely distinguish it from his black paint. Now, you felt the familiar burning of hot embarrassment under your skin. Making you want to shrivel up and die. There was no mistaking it. It wasn’t just some ordinary cardinal, but THE cardinal. You remembered all too well his little pencil moustache and sideburns, the pale white paint covering his face. Feeling like a deer caught in headlights, you began to back away, your eyes not leaving the figure. Despite your obvious staring, he didn’t seem to notice you, or maybe he was pretending to be oblivious. Either way, he was in his own headspace, moving towards the reading corner with a book in his hand.

You were about to disappear behind the nearest bookshelves and dash out of there, when your back collided with something hard. A sudden wave of pain shot through your body, making you yelp. The hard corner of one of the shelves hit you right between your shoulder blades, shaking the whole construction shake. The sound of man’s footsteps came to a halt. You didn’t want to look in the direction of where you assumed he was. You contemplated if making a run for it was worth making a fool of yourself in front of a higher-up. From where you were standing, there was no way he wouldn’t see you leaving towards the main hall. You held your breath and kept your eyes on the carpet, waiting for the worst to happen.

“Is someone there?” He called out, the sound of his voice immediately familiar to you. He sounded like he got a bit startled though, his voice shaking with an almost pathetic edge to it.

You stayed quiet, biting your tongue. Your right hand flew to your face, covering your mouth and nose to muffle the sound of your breathing. Praying to Satan that the Cardinal would decide not to investigate further and move on, you held your breath.

The Unholy One seemed to be having one hell of fun toying with you, though. Seconds felt like hours as you waited for anything to happen when ever so slowly, a head peeked at you from the other aisle. First, you noticed his biretta, and then the rest of his head appeared. His stark white eye looked right at you, the look in it completely undecipherable. You felt as if your whole body was burning, sweat covering your skin underneath the uniform.

He seemed to have relaxed at the sight of you, his features softening. The cardinal heaved a sigh of relief as he came out of his hiding fully. He laughed, waving his hands around as he spoke, “Sweet Satanas! You scared the living daylight out of me, signorina! I thought I ran into another spirit roaming the building…”.

He stopped in his tracks. His mark of favour looked like it was glowing, piercing right through you. You felt small under his watchful gaze.

“Hello, Uhm, Cardinal.” You finally spoke up, waiting for his reaction. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” your hand played nervously with the hem of your cardigan.

“Yes, uh” He began but stopped himself. You wondered if he remembered you from that incident, causing him to act so uneasily. His eyes were now shifting all around the place, looking anywhere but you. He opened up his mouth, looking like he was about to say something, but no words left his mouth. His mannerism was nearly identical to what you saw all those weeks ago.

“So, what brings you here?” You inquired, albeit absent-mindedly. You immediately realised how stupid the question sounded, but you had to fill the awkward silence somehow. You watched as the man in front of you raised his eyebrows, his mouth agape.

“Of course, well, you see,” he stumbled with his own words, “I was sent here by Papa! Yes, Papa sent me here. To, uh, fetch him a book…”

You took a quick glance at the tome in his hands and realized it was one of those cheesy romance novels that were popular among the Siblings of Sin. There was a whole series of the said books by the same author in the library, and you often heard Sisters talking about them during lunch. As soon as he realized that you were looking at it, he hid it under his arm. You could swear his pale face got a bit darker in colour as his gaze shifted towards you.

“I didn’t know Papa enjoyed such literature,” you spoke, “I’m sorry for scaring you, Cardinal.”

He nodded, “No, I’m sorry for scaring you, Sister. I didn’t expect to find anyone here, heh.”

You only dreamed of leaving this place and going back to your dorm. Oh, how you wished you had gone back to your room when Sister Bella let you go. You waited for an opportunity to excuse yourself, but it seemed that Cardinal had other plans.

“I’m sorry Sister. I don’t think I got your name?” He asked politely, taking a cautious step towards you. As he got closer, you could now see that his dark eye was, in fact, a rich green colour. A detail that you seemed to forget about earlier.

You swallowed, about to introduce yourself, when a sound of laughter interrupted you. It was coming from somewhere in the library and getting closer, soon joined by the sound of voices and footsteps. There was a group of Sisters approaching, and for a moment you thought they sounded familiar. Cardinal clicked his tongue, “I think it’s my time to leave. It was wonderful seeing you here, Sister. I hope we’ll meet again soon, eh, see ya!”

“Yes, it was wonderful…” He didn’t even give you time to finish, giving you a quick smile before turning away from you and heading towards the main hall. He tripped on the edge of the carpet while doing so, almost falling face-first onto the floor. Miraculously, he regained his balance quickly enough to walk away. For a man as powerful as him, watching him act in such a dorky way was definitely endearing.

As he left, you heard brief pleasantries exchanged between him and the Sisters of Sin who were approaching. Soon enough, from between the tall bookshelves, emerged three girls. Among them, you recognized a familiar face.

“Oh! Hello!” Sister Erin called out to you, a warm smile gracing her features. “I would say I didn’t expect to see you here, but that would be a lie. How are you doing?”

You knew Sister Erin from your Ancient Languages lessons. In a way, she was the exact opposite of you. Extraverted, talkative and fearless, while you were too afraid to talk to people. Always afraid that you would make a fool of yourself. Also, while you were one of the best in the class, Erin would spend most of the lessons slacking off and doing anything but studying. You knew she didn’t care about her courses, only doing them to get a better position in the Ministry.

“I’m doing fine, thank you,” You answered, not looking at her face. Her curious brown eyes were slowly assessing you.

“You sure? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” She inquired, laughing quietly, “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be mean. By the way, I don’t think you guys know each other,” She said, gesturing towards her companions. This is Sister Marika and Sister Liza, they’re new here. Freshly transferred.”

You smiled politely, shaking their hands while giving them your name.

“By the way, there’s something I need to tell you,” Erin suddenly changed the subject, the tone of her voice getting serious.

Her words piqued your interest. You looked up, searching Erin’s face for any clues on what she was about to say, “What is it?”

“We saw Professor Alya on our way here, she was coming back to her office and she asked about you. I think she wants you to come to her office as soon as possible.” She explained, playing with a strand of her long, black hair. “I don’t know If you’re in trouble or not, but I’d hurry up If I were you,” As she finished, there was some playfulness to her voice.

Your whole face lit up at her words. She must’ve noticed it, “I assume it’s nothing bad then, right?”

You nodded, “Yes, thank you, Sister Erin. I’ll see you around.”

“Sure thing, bookworm. See ya.”

With newfound energy, you held the tome of Poe’s short stories under your arm while making your way out of the library. The corridors were empty as you made your way towards the East wing, your encounter with the mysterious Cardinal still fresh in your memory.

Your feet carried you towards your teacher’s office. The halls were quiet and empty on your way there, save for a few ghouls running around. Once you finally found yourself in front of the heavy, oak doors that led inside Sister Alya’s room, you stopped for a second. Sighing heavily, you tried to get your breathing under control before entering. You’d hate for her to figure out how nervous you were about seeing her. Not to mention you had giddily run almost all the way to the office wing, tiny droplets of sweat forming on your forehead. You hastily wiped them off and knocked on the door, awaiting the response.

Not even a few seconds later, the doors opened, and Sister Alya greeted you with a quick smile, “Sister, it’s good to see you. Please take a seat”.

She hurried you inside, motioning to an empty seat in front of her desk. You glanced at her workspace and realised how meticulously organized it was. Despite being so small and cramped. It was nothing like the mess in Sister Isabella’s office, or as she liked to call it; “controlled chaos”. You sat down in the chair, feeling Alya’s piercing gaze on you as she moved to the opposite side of the desk. The soft, velvety fabric of her office chairs felt pleasant under your palms. You watched as she sat down with a loud sigh.

“The weather is awful today, isn’t it?” She started, taking a cigarette out of a fancy dispenser standing on her desk. With delicate hands, she placed it between her black lips before lighting it. “I swear everyone is acting off because of it, haven’t you noticed?”

It took you a few seconds to realise that she was expecting you to answer, “Yes, Sister. I mean, Professor. I noticed everyone is a bit under the weather today,” You nodded sheepishly.

“Hmm.” she took a drag of the cigarette and exhaled the smoke. Looking at you with her green eyes, she inquired “Say, Sister, do you like when it’s gloomy outside?”

Surprised by her question, you took some time to answer, “Yes, I think so. I like it when it rains.”

In your head, you wondered what it was all about. You came here anticipating some news about this opportunity she mentioned in the letter. So far you’ve been greeted with awkward small talk about the most trivial and unimportant things. You answered politely, but deep down you couldn’t wait to get to the point. Growing frustrated, you moved around in your seat anxiously. Sister Alya seemed to catch up on your very subtle body language. She exhaled the grey cloud of smoke before sitting up straight and putting her elbows on the desk.

“I’m sorry for keeping you in the dark about the nature of our meeting, but you’ll be happy with what I’m about to tell you." Now, that piqued your interest, “Are you familiar with any high-standing clergy members? Cardinals, to be exact?”

“What do you mean by that?” You spoke without thinking, flabbergasted by her question.

“Do you know any of them, not personally of course? Are you aware of the amount of responsibility that comes with this position?”

You stared at her, mind going completely blank. Of course, you knew some of the most popular Cardinals. They would lead the Dark Masses more often than not. Aside from that, some of your fellow Siblings of Sin would gossip about them. Your mind conjured up the image of the Cardinal you ran into on two separate occasions. Immediately, you remembered his shocked face and funny pencil moustache. Shaking those thoughts away, you

“Yes, I believe I do recognize a few of them. I am also aware of their responsibilities. I know they take care of Dark Rituals. Depending on their positions they either work in archives or assist Papa in his duties." you said, your hands mingling with the hem of your habit in your lap as you spoke. Sister Alya seemed satisfied with your answer, distinguishing her cigarette in an ashtray before readjusting her short, brown hair and looking at you.

“I’m glad to hear that. Now tell me, Sister, have you heard of Cardinal Copia?”

You shook your head, “No, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of him or had the pleasure to meet him,”.

“I’m not surprised to hear that. He’s a senior member of the Clergy, been here for many years. He’s not a very… public person, so to say. Not popular amongst the Congregation, but he’s well respected in his own circles,” she took out another cigarette and lit it up. You recalled that during her Latin lectures, she would often take cigarette breaks. You wondered, how did she manage to keep her voice healthy enough to teach Siblings of Sin, “He hasn’t given a sermon in years. Cardinal is a very unusual person, keeping to himself and all. Yet, he is still a brilliant scholar and very successful in what he does. He used to be a Latin teacher, too. For many years, actually, before he climbed up in the hierarchy and gave up on the position. He translated many ancient texts and sermons,”

You listened patiently, wondering what it all had to do with you. You watched as rings on Alya’s fingers glimmered, and then you looked behind her, outside her office window. You noticed that the sun had come out from behind the clouds.

“That’s very interesting, but what does it have to do with me?” you finally inquired when silence befell the room.

“There was a meeting today, of the whole Congregation. I don’t want to bore you with the details, but during the meeting, Cardinal Copia insinuated that he would like an assistant who would help him with the work. I told him you’ll be willing to take the position,” She finally said, waiting for your reaction.

“What? Why me?” You were shocked. It was absurd, how was getting new responsibilities thrown at you supposed to be exciting? You felt anxiety growing in you, slowly making you lose your head. All a sudden, the small space of Alya’s office felt almost claustrophobic.

“Calm down, Sister. I only did this because working directly under a Cardinal is a wonderful opportunity. He can help you learn things that you could never learn during the lectures. Think of it as an apprenticeship.”

You doubted that. The prospect of giving up on your current job for Sister Isabella, and diving head-first into the unknown, was horrifying. Especially now, that you finally got comfortable with your routine. You felt like things were finally getting better. But, the things that she had told you about Cardinal Copia made you stop and think. If he was so respected and such a gifted scholar, then maybe you could learn from him. You heard about Siblings of Sin who had no trouble getting the best jobs in the Ministry after working as assistants for senior Clergy members. Not to mention, the whole purpose of your relocation to the Ministry was for the sake of gaining experience as a future scholar. Almost as if she could see the gears turning in your head, Professor Alya sat back and smiled.

“I see you need to think about it. If I were you, though, I would take it. Of course, you would have to give up on working for Sister Isabella. I know it's hard considering how cosy your current position is, but I can assure you Cardinal Copia is no tyrant. I’ve spoken to him many times and he seems to be a very kind man, albeit a bit strange” She said.

You looked at her, thinking of something to say, “I’m beyond grateful for the opportunity you’ve presented me with. I need time to think about it,”

“Yes, I understand,” she hesitated a bit before, gathering her thoughts. For a brief moment, you thought she was going to say something.

“Yes, is there anything else you need my help with?”

“Oh, nothing. I'm wondering. You know you can always come and talk to me when you make up your mind, yes?”

“Yes, I know that. May I go now?”

As if taken aback by your sudden and firm response, Professor Alya sighed and sat back in her chair. Not taking her eyes off you, she spoke “Yes, Sister. You may go now, and enjoy your day off.”

Something deep inside you told you that you wouldn’t. You got up from the chair, almost knocking down a lamp that stood next to the desk. Embarrassed, you apologised before walking out of the office. Professor Alya shook her head in amusement as she watched you leave, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Now, this is gonna be interesting”.

[ravendruid]

Be In My Eyes - Chapter 25

You can read the previous chapters here or on AO3. This chapter was inspired by this drabble. If you've read it before, I took the liberty to change things around. I hope you have as much fun reading this chapter as I had writing it. Summary: Keyleth steals clothes, Vax is too stunned to speak, everyone sees the tension between Keyleth and Vax.

Keyleth was so exhausted after a day of classes that had run later than usual thanks to a stupid group project her teacher had assigned, that by the time she got home, everyone in apartment 7B was either already asleep or out partying. She considered going to bed right away without eating dinner but her stomach growled loudly to remind her she hadn’t had anything to eat in almost eight hours, so Keyleth ignored the scream of her muscles as she crossed the kitchen to reach the fridge. According to the calendar on the door, it had been Vax’s turn to make dinner, and if Keyleth knew him well enough, he would have left her serving in a tupperware for her to heat when she got home. Seeing that she was the only vegetarian in the apartment, Keyleth often had to make her own meals on the side whenever it was other people’s turn to cook, but Vax—so kind and caring—always made sure to cook something different for Keyleth so she wouldn’t have to. It never failed to warm her heart to see Vax set a plate in front of her at dinner, not because he made the effort to use different proteins for her—sometimes even going as far as making a full meal for Keyleth—but because Vax went above and beyond to look up vegetarian recipes, seasoning techniques to make the food taste better, and, above all, Vax always cooked without Keyleth asking him to, and most of the time without her knowing (as if Keyleth needed any more reasons to fall for Vax). Just as Keyleth expected, there was a glass container with a post-it note on the lid waiting for her, which she promptly read: Missed you at dinner. I really loved this recipe, let me know what you think. – Vax <3

Waiting for the food to heat was torture, but Vax’s handwriting on the post-it note was worth coming home late. It meant more to Keyleth than just dinner, and she knew it meant just as much to Vax. “Why is he so perfect?” Keyleth mumbled, walking into the laundry room where she dumped her sodden socks in her hamper. She hated doing laundry this late, especially when she was so tired, but she really needed the pair of pants she had bought at lunch the day before. The party at Glorious was the next night, and Keyleth was excited to see her roommates’ reactions—a certain someone in particular—when they saw what she was wearing (although Keyleth still hadn’t figured out how she was going to steal her victim’s clothes). 

The answer came to Keyleth unexpectedly when she was about to switch her laundry. Someone had forgotten to empty the dryer, and just her luck, from the looks of it, it was the person she needed to forget their clothes the most. Keyleth did what any good roommate would do and carefully folded her roommate’s clothes and set them on top of the dryer before she put her clothes in the dryer. What if one of her roommate’s t-shirts accidentally found itself mingled with Keyleth’s clothes? She hadn’t seen it bunched up in the corner of the dryer when she added her clothes, and she especially didn’t notice it the next morning, until she was folding and putting away everything. Only one thing left to steal. Keyleth chuckled. 

It was hard to keep it a surprise once the girls started getting ready, but the good part about finally being able to share the name Keyleth had picked was that Vex could finally help her with the make-up and hair, and Vex even stole the last piece of the puzzle for Keyleth. They had about five minutes left until everyone was meeting in the living room to reveal their outfits, and Vex was finishing the last touches on Keyleth’s eyeliner. A glance at the mirror in the bathroom made Keyleth arch an eyebrow impressed. It wasn’t a look she ever thought she would see on her, but Keyleth had to admit she looked good in it.

Pike and Vex were the first out of the bedroom, followed by Grog and Scanlan, and then Percy and Vax. Keyleth heard her friends laugh in the living room although she wasn’t able to discern what they were saying. She was too busy panicking in the bathroom, pacing back and forth, and reminding herself to breathe. It’s going to be fine. She reassured herself. What if they hate it? What if he hates it? Keyleth stopped, looking at her reflection. Her face was pale with fear, her freckles more prominent than usual, and her hands were shaking slightly. They are your friends, she reminded herself. They will not make fun of you for trying out something new. Besides, it’s a costume party, not you trying to find a new style or a new personality. Keyleth knew she was right. Logically speaking, it wasn’t her tonight, so her friends would not be making fun of her. Keyleth took a long breath in, paused, and then released it. With a last glance at the mirror, she exited the bathroom and the bedroom, nervously rubbing at her hands. 

—

Keyleth hadn’t emerged from her bedroom yet and Vax was increasingly nervous with every minute that passed. With everyone else in the living room, it was plainly obvious who Keyleth was going to be dressed up as, but not even the irony of the situation was enough to ease his mind.

Vex’ahlia looked incredibly funny in a yellow crop top, sweatpants and fun buns. Between her legs where she sat on the couch, was a canvas tote bag with painting supplies and a fake stethoscope peeking out from the opening. From all the people she could have picked, Pike was an incredible opposite. Sitting next to Vex was the disciple of the Everlight herself, wearing khaki pants, a white buttoned shirt and a dark blue blazer that looked far too large on her, but the funniest thing about Pike’s impersonation of Percival was the plastic toy glasses that had clearly been hand-painted gold. Vax couldn’t tell which of his male roommates looked the funniest, though. Percy, who dressed in gray sweatpants (that had Vex’ahlia gasp and give the man a hungry look), a tank top, and was carrying a backpack and a soccer ball under his arm; Grog in a flashy purple buttoned-up shirt (that he purposely left unbuttoned until halfway down his torso) with matching purple pants and Scanlan’s beret; or the theater major himself, who was wearing a skimpy black skirt, fishnet stockings, one of Vex’s very revealing tank tops, and, to top off the look, a dark-brown haired wig that he wove into a really bad braid. The only thing right about Scanlan’s look was the faithful make-up. Thinking about it, as Vax gave everyone a second look, if anyone were to win a prize, it would certainly be Scanlan.

When Vax picked the slip of paper a couple days ago, he never imagined he would have to sneak into the girls’ bedroom to rummage through Keyleth’s closet in search of something he could wear. He tried to avoid buying clothes unnecessarily since he and Vex’ahlia didn’t have much money to spare, but thankfully for Vax, Keyleth was pretty lithe like him. He had chuckled at the array of colors in her wardrobe—of course, it would look like a unicorn threw up in there. Keyleth wouldn’t be his brilliant, happy ray of sunshine otherwise—but Vax settled for something dark that he felt still defined Keyleth perfectly. Vax picked a dark green sweater with a large sunflower embroidered in the center and an orange butterfly next to it, and a pair of light jeans with hand-painted daisies along the legs (something else that Vax noticed about Keyleth’s wardrobe was that most of her clothes were altered). He braided two pieces of hair at each side of his head and met them at the back, fastened by a green bow that he had seen Keyleth wear before, and Vex’ahlia helped him curl his hair like Keyleth’s. Vax hoped that he looked enough like her that everyone would give him a break for keeping his boots since he couldn’t fit in Keyleth’s canvas sneakers and couldn’t afford to buy himself a pair. 

Vex’s reaction to his final look had been unexpected. Vax thought his twin would tease him endlessly for pulling a paper with Keyleth’s name, but instead, she merely shook her head in amusement and muttered something about fate and soulmates. It never occurred to Vax that his sister believed in such things, but then again, he also never thought she was going to get involved with someone like Percival after everything their mother went through with their father. Everyone else’s reaction, however, had been as he expected. Scanlan mentioned how weird it was to see Vax wearing clothes that weren’t black, and Grog had pointed out that he needed to eat more protein and work out more because he fit Keyleth’s clothes too well. As for Pike, she had been the nicest one, merely complimenting him for a job well done. From everyone so far, Vax had been the one who wore the most pieces of clothing of their pick.

“Should someone go check on Keyleth?” Vax asked when Keyleth didn’t show up ten minutes after the scheduled time—if Vax knew her well, Keyleth was probably freaking out in the bedroom—but just as soon as Vax spoke, the bedroom door opened and Keyleth turned the corner. Vax was glad he was sitting down because he would have probably fallen on his ass otherwise.

For what Vax assumed was the first time in Keyleth’s life, she didn’t have a single piece of color on her. While it looked strange, it was also incredibly sexy, especially because Keyleth was wearing Vax’s favorite t-shirt (so that’s where it went!) underneath his leather jacket—certainly stolen by Vex’ahlia—a pair of black pants and Vex’s boots that were a cheap replica of his. Keyleth’s nails were painted black, her make-up was a perfect imitation of Vax’s eyeliner, and her hair had been straightened and was tied back in a half-up style like Vax always did. Keyleth looked beautiful in black—but then again, she would look beautiful in a potato sack— but she was also visibly nervous.

“Sorry I made you all wait,” Keyleth apologized, rubbing her hands in front of her in what Vax knew well as being a gesture of anxiety. Keyleth’s eyes shifted to him and she took a step back, aghast. Vax grinned at her and extended an inviting hand that Keyleth took hesitantly, he then pulled her to his side and wrapped his arm around her waist. Vax was perfectly aware that they had five pairs of eyes on him and Keyleth, but he didn’t care about them. All Vax cared about was the pair of bright, stunned green eyes and the smile on Keyleth’s face once she realized they were dressed up as each other.

“Let’s go before you two start making out,” Vex’ahlia rolled her eyes and grabbed the tote bag at her feet. Everyone else followed suit out of the apartment, leaving Vax and Keyleth still standing close to each other for a moment. 

“We should go,” Keyleth mumbled after the last person left, closing the door behind them. 

“You look…” Vax placed both hands on her waist and pushed her away softly to look at her again from head to toe. “Absolutely stunning, Keyleth.”

Keyleth’s cheeks bloomed pink. She looked him up and down, taking notice of everything, then back to his eyes and said, “You don’t look too bad either, Vax’ildan. Green looks great on you.”

“Not as good as you in black, Kiki. Damn,” Vax bit his lip. Keyleth squealed and hid her face in her hands but Vax pulled them away, leaned in to kiss her cheek, and whispered, “You look so hot. Gods be damned.”

Keyleth giggled. Vax had expected her to pull away and hide herself in a shell of bashfulness but she hadn’t done anything to show him she was embarrassed, quite the opposite. Keyleth was staring at him differently, almost as if she was hungry for something she had never had before. Vax didn’t want to assume she wanted him the same way he wanted her, lest he make a fool of himself, so he ignored the urge to lock the apartment door, kiss her, and take her to his bedroom. No, if Keyleth wanted him that way, he would wait until she made a move. He would wait his entire life for her.

“We should go,” Keyleth finally broke away from him, although she clasped her hand in his and pulled Vax behind her. The others were already waiting for them at the atrium, and even though most of them pretended not to notice Vax and Keyleth holding hands, Vex’ahlia didn’t seem to care about hiding it, not with the wink she gave them before she turned around and grabbed Percy’s arm as they all strode out of the building.

But as soon as Vax and Keyleth stepped into the cold autumn air of Emon, Vax felt a weird weight on his chest like something bad was going to happen. Worst of all, he had left his knife behind, safely stored in his nightstand drawer. Shit. Maybe it was just anxiety from going out for the first time in a while. Maybe it was because Keyleth was holding his hand tightly like he was her lifeline. Vax tried to ignore the heaviness of his chest and focus on the warmth and softness of Keyleth’s hand in his and the way she had looked at him before. Relax.Everything will be alright. Nothing bad will happen tonight.

[dragoncookies]

(PT 2) STELLARLUNE ANALYZATION: Chapters 3-5

(foreword) This is a series where I go through each chapter of Stellarlune and dissect it for y’all. I bring up things you might have missed, the importance of what is said and what happens in each chapter, how it might relate to the book as a whole or how it might relate to the series as a whole. This book might seem boring and useless, but when you look at it, it’s really just a book that steps back and reflects on the whole series. It’s like the series is taking a refreshing deep breath and putting everything from the past together, so it can go and deliver a WILDLY  wonderful ending. All I can say is that the book gets way sweeter on the second read, and it might be too early to say, but my guess is that it’ll age finer than wine.

(excuse my grammar/spelling mistakes)

Chapters 3-5:

I’ll be honest, these chapters were a little sluggish, but at the same time...it was interesting to read about Gisela and Cassius lore. I’ll say why later in this post, but It was dark and creepy and tense; well written. There’s also a bunch of notable tid-bits in these scenes from Cassius’s memory and just what he has to say. He’s not a useless character or a 2d character, that’s for sure. Lets dive in, shall we?

SUMMARIES:

(because I forget too)

Ch 3 summary: Sophie shows up at Cassius’s house and they banter for a bit after Sophie tells him that Keefe ran away. Sophie originally went there to get Cassius’s pathfinder so she could look for Keefe in the Forbidden cities, but Cassius tells her he’s working on another assignment from the Black Swan that has to do with the trollish treaty and such after what happened at Everglen (in flashback). He also has a memory he recovered that Lady Gisela tried to wipe from his mind, so Sophie agreed to watch it. 

Ch 4 summary: Sophie and Cassius watching the memory

Ch 5 summary: Sophie and Cassius banter about the following→ Cassius’s parenting, whether or not Sophie should keep looking for Keefe (she shouldn’t) or if letting Gisela finish the final step of Stellarlune on Keefe is a good idea.

Ch 3:

Sophie REALLY hates Cassius. Like, the Cassius slander is HEAVY throughout this chapter. She just gotta quip at his behavior for every reason. 

One thing that is made strikingly clear by Sophie’s conversations with Cassius is how emotionally driven she is, especially when compared to Cassius’s almost purely objective approach to things. They’re almost foils of each other, in this sense.

Also, the dialogue in the first few pages of this chapter is lowkey entertaining, even from Ro. 

“’If Keefe had come home with me-’

‘he would’ve run off even faster,’ Ro finished for him. ‘Probably would’ve left a Keefe shaped hole in one of these walls.’” (page 36). 

Haha funny for no reason. Anyways.

Ro is REALLY given an actual purpose (as are a shocking majority of the characters) as I continue to reread through stellarlune. As much as I cannot stand how nosy and obnoxious Ro can be, her background has a whole chunk of the dialogue in this chapter. I will have far more to say on Ro’s character when we get to the part where she actually leaves later on so stay tuned for that.

Now, with Lord Cassius here, we have been shown an important revelation on the current state of political affairs in the Lost Cities, and a reminder that the Black Swan is a little bigger than we thought. It makes me curious as to what other things go on behind the scenes in the Black Swan. 

Also: Sophie said she really does hate secrets. Why did sophie say she hates secrets when her wanting privacy is literally the whole point of conflict between her and Fitz for the entire previous book and the rest of Stellarlune???? Smh.

The troll treaty negotiations are stalled at the moment!!!! Empress Pernille has closed the borders and doesn’t want the elves messing with them atm, basically. This means there MIGHT be more mutant trolls. Wild. The trolls want to be isolated from everyone…which is kind of what the neverseen wants if we’re being honest…scary. 

One question: Why does the black swan want to protect the councilors from being overthrown if there’s so much emphasis on how the councilors are flawed? What is the point? 

CH4:

This is where I notice things really start to get interesting in this book. 

I love when Shannon describes telepathy. Like all the “swooping and spinning” and “sinking into warmth” and describing the mind like a room makes me imagine Sophie and everyone else as little glowing people in the mind, navigating the endless maze. She describes it so vividly, its so fun to imagine being Sophie when she gets blasted by wind or goes on a rollercoaster-esc loop, or goes somewhere small and quiet, or just somewhere blue. Like that is so cool, who goes ahead describes a mind like that? And every mind in the series is different too. It's just so cool. Anyways. Back to Gisela and Cassius lore. 

This chapter really makes you think about Cassius’s and Gisela’s relationship. Its important to understand, since Gisela is like a main villain giving her character depth (like what her relationship with Cassius was exactly like) makes her feel like a REAL person, more like us. Which makes her scarier. 

This scene is where Gisela throws away her act of just wanting Keefe to be strong to make her and Cassius look good. 

Man, from the first read, it really seems like Shannon is trying to redeem Cassius with this memory. “gosh Shannon, please don’t redeem Cassius…please stop trying to redeem him”, but it’s less “poor Cassius” and more we just get to understand Cassius, because what I get out of this is that Cassius really loved Gisela, and Gisela was just using him to have a strong baby (which is sort of like the entire flaw of matchmaking…hmmm…). Like when Gisela starts explaining all these wack things she’s doing, he’s just completely shocked. Like she really flat out told him that his role was done, and he’d already provided his DNA so she didn’t need him anymore. No wonder Cassius said the memory was personal, I would be HEARTBROKEN. He’s not the best, but maybe there’s a reason he’s so cold…

If you hadn’t before, you REALLY start to see how creepy Gisela is, too. At the end of this chapter, Gisela just drugs him, and as his world slowly fades to black she whispers “don't fight it, it’ll all be over soon enough” (paraphrasing page 57). Damn she's creepy. Just, her carelessly messing with Cassius’s heart for her own gain, and doing painful horrible things to herself, to Cassius and to their relationship...she’s so sick omg. She really built Cassius the whole illusion of a happy marriage. What if Cassius was actually a happy surfer guy before Gisela? Maybe thats why his getaway is on the beach. Who knows? Maybe Gisela ruined an avid beach-boys listener and a regular cowabunger. Its all so messed up, but the theme of the importance of family is strengthened through all of this. 

What I start to wonder as I read through this chapter is…why? Why does Gisela want Keefe to be super powerful? WHY does she want to rule the world? 

She mentions she wants to harness all the elements because she believes it will make her ultra-powerful, but for WHAT? 

Gisela talking about the elements also reminds me how elemental elves are. They really are such nature-y beings. Little hippies. Talking to plants. Never killing animals. Using scrolls. No technology and A LOT of living with nature’s cycles. They see so much power in elements that Gisela is convinced she can be all-powerful if she uses all them. I ought to start seeing the elven world in a more woodsy aesthetic lmao. Alas, Shannon’s world-building never ends. 

The most important thing we learn in this chapter is that Keefe needs to go through one last step to really finish his transformation of his abilities. Yay!

Ch5:

Cassius’s mind was really messy after the memory, so he definitely did love her and he’s definitely messed up by that. Even Shannon’s most hateable characters get backstory and understanding, so you don't have to like what they did but it makes the story she’s telling so enriching. 

This chapter highlights how stubborn or blindsighted by emotions Sophie can be, but at least she can be persuaded. She neglects that Cassius has an OBJECTIVE approach and thinks he has a COLD HEARTED approach, and struggles to wrap her brain around the concept that Cassius could actually, in fact, be right in his suggestion that Keefe needs to finish the process of his new abilities to function properly. The fact that she sees “cold hearted” and “objective” as synonymous proves that she’s just a very emotionally driven person, which is important to understand, considering the entire series is from her point of view and if we really want to understand the story we have to understand how Sophie might tell the story. 

Also, Sophie JUST NOW realizes how she probably should have read through the archetype before she burned it. Nice one girly. I’m sorry I bag on her so much during these first few chapters, it gets better later I promise.  AND WHAT WAS THIS SHANNON:

“Lord Cassius couldn’t be right...

...

...

...could he?” (page 62). 

TAKE AWAY HER ENTER BUTTON. Made me chortle a little but like Shannon what. 

Not much else to say about this chapter. The last page was a masterpiece, though. 

“Let him take care of himself, he’s been doing it his whole life” (page 66). 

I’m not all about the endless Keefe sob story we get throughout the series, but the way it's told on page 66 is quite sad and impactful. Like oof, the self-actualization from Cassius and the cold hard truth…ouch Shannon. That hurt. Chefs kiss to the writing but yeowch. 

Overall, these few chapters are pretty satisfying because both Cassius and Sophie change a little. Cassius starts off presented as his usual hateable self, but by the end of these chapters you feel a little heavier, a little older and a little colder because of him. He just gets deeper as a character. Sophie changes her mind about finding Keefe and actually listens to Cassius’s reasoning, which is important because it changes the trajectory of this section of the book. It would have been ooc for her to just not care or decide on her own not to find Keefe because she cares about Keefe ALOT (a lil too much sometimes I’ll be honest), but it did take 5 chapters to get to this point. She also could have gone on a mission to look for Keefe, but thank goodness she decided not to, for the sake of the plot and the other characters. Victory!

She really does talk to herself a lot. 

Anyways, stay tuned for more!

[boypussydilf]

prithee, dearest mutual, won't you elaborate on such a story? i simply MUST know more for I haven't considered such a thing

You know I made that statement with a great bearing of confidence and self assurance, thinking without thinking about it that this was a scenario I had considered or read about in the past, but upon taking time to think about it I. I got nothing. Either I’ve forgotten it all or I’ve never actually thought about this before and just momentarily convinced myself I did.

like. i stand by my belief that statistically, such a scenario surely must exist. a situation in which akira is being decidedly Insane and Not Normal about it and akechi is actually being quite a bit normal* and in fact is kind of looking at akira like hey what the fuck man. Though when it comes to the specific topic of Being Weird And Insane About Social Interactions i am not sure if there ever would have been a point where akira was in “I am going to get a good grade in interacting and also in fulfilling my assigned role as The Hero” (Now there’s a whole other tangent about akira like he’s taking everything very seriously because it’s very important and concerns a lot of people but also this is his game where he plays the heroic protagonist role knowingly and especially when it comes to akechi but Anyhow that’s a subject for another time) mode while akechi was just there to like, chill.

In summary; despite my previous confidence i am actually unable to come up with what on earth this concept entails, at least at the moment. But it is too funny to simply pass up. *extends my hand* We can embark on this journey……. together

*”normal” is so so relative when i say it to describe either akechi or akira like akira is a normal boy sometimes but even then. They just ar operating on some completely different scale

Oh god i was a bout to finish this post and then I *walks back into the room* now there’s ANOTHER interesting base to operate from another topic to consider before I even consider the actual point. Actually. Wait I don’t know if th question I was about to propose is valid I think the answer is held within the game itself I just…. I havent seen akechis confidant in so long ……………. i’ve abandoned my boy…… I’m. I’m starting to lose track of what I even have or haven’t said I’m just going to post this

[rezdragon]

2014 and My Writing

I just wrote about this in the script I'm working on, but I thought I'd go a little more in detail in a separate post. I've talked about this before on Twitter a few years back, but writing a script about it has put some fresh perspective into my head. Let me tell you about the time that I went from obsessively writing nearly every day, to not writing at all for three years.

I say that I have always been a storyteller, as growing up, I made tons of stories with the toys in my room and each day was like a new episode in the complicated plot of "The Beanie Babies On My Bed."

2006 is when I really started using a computer regularly, but it was 2007 when I wrote my first short story, which was like twelve pages long (which is long for a 12 year old). And from then on, I was hooked on writing. Every year or so, it seemed like I had some kind of new story going on. Not because I finished the previous ones mind you, I would just get bored of it, or the idea became too big and I couldn't finish it. Orintheous' first backstory was developed around this time (that's how old she is).

When I was introduced to Smash Machinima in 2008, it was a match made in heaven for me. A lot of the stuff I was writing was just loose video game fanfiction and now suddenly I could make that real? Sign me up, 13 year old me was PUMPED.

And so in between my school work, I would be writing up scripts and other various short stories for machinima. I still have dozens of scripts for projects that never got a voice. This absolutely affected my attention in class except for English. Thanks to my constant writing, I excelled at English, especially the writing assignments.

My high grades in English continued into my high school years (also where my deep depression started), and by 10th grade, I was completely BURIED in writing a novel with a fantasy setting (Note: Do not have your first novel be a fantasy setting). I filled up several notebooks with drafts of short stories, scenes, and scripts. And when I wasn't trapped at school, I'd pour hours into Microsoft Word, making more short stories, scripts, etc. I just loved writing.

One of my proudest moments was in my creative writing class. The teacher gave us the blank assignment of writing a short story, but it had to be under 5 pages. I, the obsessive writer, argued that 5 pages was too short, and told her I had a 12 page story for her. She told me that if that story sucked and wasn't written well, she would outright give me an F on the assignment for making it over 5 pages.

I got an A.

In that same class, we had to submit poetry to this American Poetics Society or something like that, and I wrote a poem in 20 minutes about how I hated summer. And not only did I get a A on that assignment, that poem got selected to be in that year's published book of young authors (a book I SADLY COULDN'T BUY).

I kinda fell out of writing by 2013 because of d e p r e s s i o n, but I still had a lot of pride in my writing. Once I got out of school (and machinima) I sadly didn't have much to write about anymore, but I still kept up on it with fanfiction.

And then we get to college.

So in 2014, I was forced to go to college for a number of reasons, but the bottom line is that I did not entirely choose to attend college. To make it worth my while, I went for a degree in Graphic Design. I took a few fine art classes too, and I did learn something from those that I still apply to my work today. And I also took English 1, under the guise that it would be an "easy class" for me to get out of the way early.

It was not. Suddenly, the writing that let me fly through high school English without a thought was getting C's and D's. Even long essays I had to write about books we read were failing. I also couldn't pass any of the tests; I couldn't understand what was happening. For the first time in my life I was failing English? Me? Someone who considered themselves a writer?! And don't think I didn't try. The professor I had wasn't an asshole, he was great, and he tried his best to help me pass the class, but something just did not click and I failed English 1. This was during an already rough time in my life, so I didn't take this failing very well. I stopped writing, just full stop. And I wouldn't write again for some time.

Fast forward to 2017, I'm watching all of my old machinima from back in the day, feeling a little sad that I never finished what I had started. I decide to jump back in (for various reasons), and I was planning on working on a previously failed machinima series, but then I made a joke video on April 24th of 2017...

This joke video was a machinima called "Orintheous Declares War On RyeDragon." It was a word for word remake of a video made by PMK94 when he declared war on me for switching my Smashsona to Lucario back in 2009. That original video spawned an entire video series where PMK and I went back and forth trying to one up each other like the children we were.

Well, this joke video, made 8 years after the original, woke PMK up from retirement, and he responded to the video with a machinima of his own. I was so thrown by this because I honestly did not expect this and I thought: "I have to follow this up with my own video."

And for the first time in 3 years, I wrote an original script, performed it, and published it to the world, that video being "Orintheous' Plan Begins." And once again, PMK and I went back and forth with each other, spawning the original Orintheous' Revenge.

The scripts for the original OR were the first bits of completely original writing I had done in 3 years. I mean it when I say I went from writing almost nonstop to not writing at all. I didn't write anything in those three years and I honestly feared I would never regain my love for writing. But a silly little series about recolored Charizards reignited my spark, and while it took awhile to make a flame, that flame exploded in 2021.

By 2021, I got my love of writing back in full force, and once again, it was thanks to Orintheous' Revenge. I spent the first half of 2021 working religiously on writing the plot and other elements for OR, just like I had done before for my fantasy novel. Orintheous' Revenge was merely the warmup though, preparing for the main event of 2021, which would be The Disaster Archives.

All of the writing I do for TDA today would not be possible had it not been for Orintheous' Revenge. College nearly killed the writer in me, but Orintheous, the god of life, brought it back. As I am currently writing a 46 page script about the events of 2021, three years after the fact, it honestly feels weird to me to even think about the fact that I went three years without writing anything. I'm back to being incredibly dedicated to it, just as much as I am to my art.

I have always been a storyteller, and I will tell my story, either with recolored Charizards or beanie babies on my bed. I'm not super vocal about calling myself a writer, but if you ask me, I will gladly tell you:

"Yes, I am a writer."

More specifically, I call myself a script writer, as I love writing dialogue. I don't think I could ever write a novel again haha.

[thetravellingvagrant]

Day 9: In Which I Am Largely Satisfied

I...don't really know what to write about yesterday, if I'm honest. I think it was probably the least interesting and blogworthy day of possibly any trip I have undertaken, so please do be aware and pre-warned that this entry may be even less of a zinger than usual.

It began with me waking up at a fairly comfortable 8am after a night of weirdly disjointed sleep, which gave me ample time to deal with the morning's necessities. Owing to getting my exit strategy down to a fine art at this point, I found myself shitted, showered and packed with an incredibly pleasing and uncharacteristically huge glut of free time on my hands before I was due to catch my bus. I had also made sandwiches.

I hoisted my insanely heavy bag back onto my back, wiped down the desk, which I had, over the course of the previous few days absolutely coated with butter in the pursuit of making lunch in lieu of a useable kitchen and set off, walking the same route to the nearby metro station that I had for the previous two days, getting off at the same stop and walking, without incident to a bus station I had already been to.

The bus station is modestly sized and intuitive to navigate, so I found my stance within seconds and waited there for a not-uncomfortable amount of time before being allowed on board the bus to my next destination: Granada.

Taking my seat on the bus was a bit of a faff, I suppose, as I was asked to move from my assigned seat by a couple who wanted to sit together and then from whichever of their assigned seats I was now sat in by another, different couple, who also wanted to sit together, but all of this was done very politely and in good humour, so it is understandably hard to spin any kind of tale out of. I had even managed to nab myself a window seat in the process, so...hurrah.

I did have someone sit next to me in the end – a diminutive French woman, though she spend the first two hours of the three hours jaunt asleep, head lolling backwards and mouth hanging open, while I used the time to catch up with this scintillating blog. For the final hour, she did wake up to take a picture of the bus we were on from what had to be every conceivable angle possible, in order to post a million different stories on instagram with captions reading things like “this girl is on a bus!”, which I know because I was looking over her shoulder - sue me – and yeah that was slightly irritating/borderline deranged, but it wasn't that intrusive and only lasted about fifty minutes before we were deposited in Granada and I would never have to see her again. This isn't foreshadowing for once.

I hadn't eaten lunch on the bus, as I was sitting next to someone and so didn't want to assault them with chewing noises and the faint waft of meat – not that it stopped the French girl from tucking into a box of penne pasta and bin juice, three inches from my face – so when we arrived in the city, I walked to a nearby park, where I sat on a bench and had some lunch, in what is becoming a bit of a tradition on this trip.

Lunch finished and podcast enjoyed, I hopped – again without incident or significant effort – onto the city's easy to navigate metro system and within fifteen minutes, stood outside my hostel for the next few days. This would be the first – and indeed only – time I would be in shared accommodation on this trip. That, at least, should provide some juicy bloggins, I thought.

It, however, did not. This was largely due to this hostel – Broz Hostel, if you find yourself here and without a room – is about the best shared accommodation I have ever lived in. It's spremely comfortable, has private lights, sockets and shelves on every bunk; the beds aren't made of rickety old metal bars that squeak and let all your shit fall off the side in the night; there are thick blackout curtains on every bunk that offer comprehensive protection from both light and the accusing stares of others and most surprisingly of all, all of my dorm-mates are deathly, deathly quiet and respectful and friendly (when they whisper a pleasant greeting to you, for fear of upsetting anyone else in the room). I just cannot generate material, today.

I had a nap not long after I arrived; my sleep from the previous night not having been the best, then set about having, as noted that it would be in the previous entry, a right nice rest day. I spent the majority of it finishing up my Christmas shopping, which satisfies the rare double-whammy criteria of being unpublishable due to both potential spoiler and just not being at all interesting in the slightest. Killing it, today.

With my shopping handled quickly, efficiently and without...too much faff, I jumped out to a nearby supermarket to buy the ingredients for a lovely salmony, lemony pasta without difficulty or embarrassment, then went home to make and eat it in a disappointingly quiet and well stocked hostel kitchen. I burned it – the food, not the kitchen – and it was slightly too salty for my tastes, but it was also the first time I had cooked myself anything proper on this trip, to date, so I award it 10/10. Would – and probably will – make it again, tomorrow.

I sauntered back upstairs to my bunk and worked on presents a little longer, definitely being the loudest person in the room in the process, until about 1am when I found myself too tired to continue and turned into bed. It was exactly then that two drunk girls returned to the room, whispering in that incredibly loud way that drunk people trying to be quiet do, which just exaggerates all their plosives in their speech and is actually, probably, more distracting than just speaking normally. Especially if they just spoke normally outside the room, instead...

“Oh boy” I whispered to myself, rubbing my sleepy little hands together with glee, getting ready to enjoy being absolutely furious for a little bit, “This'll be something I can complain about, at least...”

They stopped whispering forty five seconds later and went to bed, very quietly. The loudest thing in the room now just the noise of me – for some reason – still rubbing my hands together.

I eventually stopped doing that – it was a bit weird, to be honest – and followed the drunk girls' suit, turning in for a night of basically fine and, crucially, very quiet sleep. Tomorrow's entry will be better. Probably.

[frustrated-researcher-diary]

#2 Small progress

As I wrote in my previous entry, last week I was unmotivated and a little bit sad. From this perspective, this week I made some small improvements. On a desperate (of many) attempts to snap out of this mood, I looked on Youtube for videos on how to find my motivation back: some might say that this is a stupid thing to do, but I was really grasping at straws. Anyhow, I found this:

As the expert said in the video, our drive to get things done can be compared to a carriage driven by two horses: high ideals and appetite. The former motivates us to accomplish tasks - no matter how boring or daunting they might be - because we deem them important and meaningful. The latter pushes us solely out of stimulation and curiosity. To be motivated, a good combination of the two is required. This also applies when it comes to being a researcher. I surely have many high ideals, but for so long I lacked in "the appetite department."

In this week, however, I figured out that I need to exploit my competitiveness. I have always been a competitive guy. And I get a thrill when an opponent loses, or I see somebody's face clearly surprised by something I did that they did not believe I was capable of, or when I simply refute what my inner voice is telling me ("You will never make it, you are just wasting your time, etc").

So, this week I set my mind to get something done (presentations for a tutorial) and prove to my inner voice that I can actually finish things within a deadline and complete them. And I managed to do it, finally! Now I need to keep pushing and apply this way of thinking also for the other tasks that I was assigned. I really want to show myself that I have a shot as a researcher.

On a side note, here are some of the thoughts I collected during this past week:

1) As a researcher, I need to become irreplaceable. I must continuously develop a new set of skills and knowledge my bosses do not have (either because it would take so much for them to cover them, or because they simply do not want to cover them out of lazyness). Most importantly, I do not always need to explain every nook and cranny of my discoveries. Otherwise, the bosses could simply absorb what I know (and so I become replaceable again) and ask for more.

2) Contrary to my well-radicated belief, I did not become a post-doc out of charity of my own bosses. I was proposed a post-doc because they thought they could exploit me so that they too can make progress. I may be on good terms with them, but they are still my bosses. I must not fall under the illusion that I no longer need to impress them and deliver.

3) Being a post-doc is uncharted territory for me, but the same goes for my bosses. This is the first time that they had a PhD student who then went on to pursue an academic path. They surely know how to conduct scientific research, but this may not apply to manage a new workforce. Without a shadow of doubt, their suggestions are extremely valuable, but believing everything they say and taking it as truth may be a terrible mistake.

D.

Ps: next week I want to prepare another presentation for an upcoming tutorial, correct a paper to submit it for a conference, make some progress on a code, implement some changes on a paper that was rejected (see entry #1), and go back reading new papers to get updated. I wrote this so that I could check next week if I kept my word.

[artshineaura]

mlp:fim halfway point thoughts

so i just finished MLP season 5, which means im just over halfway through the entire show, so i thought itd maybe be neat to give my thoughts on the show so far. ill go through season by season, giving each season a rating out of 10. warning this is,, a *long* post so i dont blame anyone for not reading through it all xd

season 1 (6/10)

a pretty,, alright starting season. theres plenty of good episodes and a fair few eh boring episodes. the first 2 parter is a neat intro to mlps characters and world, although i dont remember too too much from it since i watched the 2 parter a month or so before getting really into the show more recently.

season 1 isnt amazing but its not bad at all, you can definitely tell, like many other shows, that the show was still finding its footing during the first season, i specifically remembered being confused by big mac talking perfectly fine in episode 3 or 4 and then past that point almost always just saying "eeyup" or "nope"

also season 1's ending is,, odd. the gala episode they end it on is fine but it just feels like any other normal season 1 episode.

season 2 (7.5/10)

season 2 is definitely where the show picks up quite abit, theres definitely less boring eh episodes and more good episodes, and ontop of there being more good episodes, the good episodes are much better than season 1. both of the 2 parters here are really good, discords introduction as a villian in the first 2 parter is great and immediately made discord one of my favorite characters. the last 2 parter a canterlot wedding is really really good aswell, the first part is abit boring and slow by itself, but when you put part 1 and 2 together the slow pace really doesnt bother me too much.

also i really started to like the cutiemark crusaders in season 2, i started off thinking "ugh another episode based around these ponies?" and ended off the season knowing any cutiemark crusaders based episode would be for sure atleast good.

season 3 (5/10)

season 3 is a,, weird one. for starters its the shortest season, and unlike season 2 (and future seasons after season 3) it only has one two parter, that being the first 2 episodes, rather than the final episode, which is abit of an odd choice.

this season has many more boring not so great episodes than the previous seasons do. to make up for it some of the good episodes here are *really* good, babs seed, the discord reformation episode and the final episode come to mind. but those episodes dont stop most of this season from feeling very eh.

not even the two parter here is good, its a pretty unmemorable boring adventure to save the crystal kingdom (which just kinda shows up????) from a boring villian which barely even feels like a villian. plus a big thing here is that twilight and spike struggle to just let spike save the crystal kingdom because twilight would fail her lesson then? i dunno about you but in a high stakes situation like that where its possible me and an entire kingdom is about to die, i wouldnt care about some assignment.

thankfully the season pulls it together right at the very end with a pretty awesome music filled finale episode, its not a 2 parter which again is odd, and it definitely means the episode feels kinda rushed, but the idea of the mane 6's cutiemarks being mixed around and needing to be restored to their original ones is fun, plus twilight becoming an alicorn at the very end was great to see, i felt twilight after all shes been through really deserved it.

season 4 (9/10)

the best season so far. the season starts out with a pretty good, even if slightly unmemorable 2 parter. after that, the episodes start out pretty good and start to become really *really* good. some of the best in the show kind of good. theres very few bad episodes.

the season i will say felt slightly off at the beginning, even if the first few episodes were still good, im not even sure why it felt somewhat off, it just did.

this season also seems to somewhat try to be more story based, with this rainbow thing that each main character gets after going through a certain lesson, and that helps them find out a certain thing thatll help unlock a chest with 6 keys found at the beginning of the season. its a cool idea but i feel like the season doesnt commit enough to the story focused stuff for it to really feel substantial.

the final 2 parter here with tirek is amazing also, my favorite episodes in the show. it legit got me to tear up at some moments, specifically the ones where discord has to face the mane 6 after betraying them and losing his powers, with him feeling very sorry and such.

each episode in this season really got me excited to watch more, it was genuinely so good

season 5 (7.6/10)

this season starts off with alot of the momentum season 4 had, but kinda starts to fizzle out near the end. this season seems to focus a decent bit on cutiemarks, with the first 2 parter here being focused on starlight glimmer and her town of ponies with all the same cutiemark, making them all equal, so that their differences cant interfere with anything. of course starlight glimmer gets stopped and the citizens of the town get their cutiemarks again, but starlight does show up again later in the season. i really love the first 2 parter with starlight, shes a really good villian and the first two episodes of season 5 shows it really good, but the last 2 parter, when it comes to starlight is kinda lame. i love the time travel stuff with getting to see multiple entirely different versions of equestria, seeing chrysalis and the changelings again specifically was great, im kinda surprised it took this long for them to return at all. but starlights redemption is very rushed feeling and it feels very,, artificial? i dont think thats the right word but it just feels too easy. it doesnt feel nearly as well done as discords redemption or smth.

overall thoughts or whatever

i absolutely love this show, its definitely become one of my favorite shows ever, its atleast in my top 5, maybe even top 3. the show makes me rlly happy just watching it, as odd as it sounds. i dont know entirely how to describe it but like, it kinda makes me feel younger, except now in a fem nonbinary not a boy this time kinda way. i really do regret not watching this show ive been interested in for like, forever, just because of gender.

cant forget all of the fan content ive watched and such during my watch through of the show. i genuinely dont get why so many people find the fandom so weird, theres just so many awesome fan songs and animations and fanart, etc.

anyways uhh idk how to end this lol idk i just love the show

[thelastofhyde]

the likeability paradox. ( teaser )

this fic has now been posted, read here !

pairing. joel miller x fem!reader

synopsis. joel miller is not a man who strives to be liked, with a chip on his shoulder and a scowl on his face, until his world is flipped on its axis when the pretty young thing, with an irritatingly unwavering smile and the literal sun shinning out her ass, that lives under bill and frank's roof says those five damned words: i don't like you, joel.

warnings. enemies to lovers ig, slow burn (i have intentions to drag this out into several long oneshots that can be read separately), unrequited love (except you will never catch joel miller admitting he feels anything beyond grief, hunger and exhaustion), pining, sunshine!reader, grumpy!joel aka canon joel, kinda perv!joel (if you squint), implied queer!tess, undefined age gap (reader implied late-20s), canon violence, smut (oral- f receiving, fingering, praise, degradation, possessiveness, panty stealing, dirty talk, dubcon ig, hints at ass-play, discussions of a lacklustre sex-life pre-apocalypse). this is set prior to ellie!!

word count. 10k. ( predicted )

hyde’s input. was hoping to finish and post this today in celebration of pedge's bday, but uni assignments got in the way and here i am posting a teaser instead of the full fic :(

nsfw beneath the cut, 18+ only !! ( unedited )

his only saving grace is that he can't see you.

hearing your pretty whines, and hand-muffled moans, and heavy intakes of breath is enough to curse him for the rest of his waking days, condemned to wander the wastelands of earth knowing the noises you make on the brinks of pleasure, with a touch-starved man satiating his hunger for flesh and blood with the sugary sins of your soaked cunt.

burrowing deeper into you, his consciousness rips through the fog of his lust to curse out his perversions as the tip of his hooked nose bumps against the puckered entrance of your ass. it does nothing to stop him tearing his tongue away from your clit, flattened as he drags it over the expanse of your cunt, and over your taint and up the crack of your behind.

"n- ah," you can't deny him while sounding so eager for more, the tip of his tongue now circling your back entrance, mimicking the treatment previously given to your little pearl. "no, don't, not there."

next time, he thinks, we'll try that next time.

sights returned to his previous desires, he works to rip every sigh, and every whine, and every dirty little song you'll grace him with. the sound of whatever record tess has put on in the other room becomes a safety blanket, dousing you both in the warm protection of not being overheard.

and, then, he does it, he makes the ultimate mistake.

his eyes flicker to the left and he finds himself faced with the stove that sits within bill and frank's- and, by an extension he does not enjoy to remember, your- kitchen. there's little that's remarkable about the appliance, just your standard, everyday oven that he's sure you've spent countless hours cooking up those comforting meals he's come to anticipate each time tess tells him they're due a visit.

except, the oven door is made of glass.

glass which now paints the most pornographic masterpiece for no eyes but his own. you, with hands gripping the island's counter like your life depends on it, and the skirt of that goddamn dress he's envied all evening for the way it got to rest against the warmth of your thighs, and your head thrown back, curving your spine in a way that has him wondering about the other ways he'd be able to bend and break you beneath his touch. and then there's him, down on his knees like a devotee laying himself down to worship his goddess, face burrowed in the space between your legs, mouth devouring you from behind with the help of his hands, the same ones that had strangled a man less than a day before and reigned fire down on countless others for years, that now grip the meat of your thighs to pull you back onto him, fucking his tongue into your sopping heat.

the image will haunt him more than any man he's killed.