#someone help me defend our little cardinal | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kitkatopinions · 3 years ago

Note

(Rabbithole Anon) Y'know, I was going to send in an ask about just they could have made a compelling way to show how some people may have become hunters through pressure rather than an age excuse if they wanted to say some people weren't ready (joining to protect a friend who wanted to be one, wanting to travel for a variety of reasons, it being a general expectation but the person being hesitant) but it led to me wondering wait, would certain careers require a hunting lisence?

Okay, I love this rabbit hole. XD It illustrates a couple of RWBY problems here and it's the fact that they often are lacking in the character development/character journey department, and that they're often lacking in the world building department.

We actually have plenty of characters that can serve as examples for people who maybe should've thought twice about entering the Academy (when they did.) There are people who entered the Academy for the wrong reasons/not noble reasons, people who entered the Academy during a time they might not have been ready, and people who would be full on dangerous with a Hunter badge, and most of our mains fall under one of these categories (though mostly the first two.)

Ruby - Two years below the standard age of her class. Whether or not she was at the skill level of a first year (she was,) and whether or not she'd received special training from Qrow (she had,) Ruby was still essentially a kid, and her mind and body both hadn't developed completely. Ruby should have been traumatized after the Fall of Beacon and been allowed to show that more as a character, she should've had straight up PTSD, she should've been allowed to have emotion in Volume 4 than Jaune's sidekick who makes sad eyes when she sees him grieving. Weiss - Her main motivation for joining Beacon was to reclaim her family legacy. Yes, her desire was to reclaim it and use it for good, but it was still arguably more about personal and familial glory. On top of that, Weiss has been blatantly anti Faunus and has never so much as addressed that. Weiss's character journey should have reflected more personal growth, and either her unlearning much of her Faunus racism and clearly changing priorities from her name and family legacy and onto the actual people in need, or her flaws should've led her into being more of a morally gray character who displays her selfishness and pride (in a way that's actually addressed and treated like a flaw.) Yang - She expresses admiration for people like Ruby who want to help people and be kind, but her main point in becoming a Huntress was getting thrills and going where the wind takes her. She didn't join Beacon for any sort of serious purpose, and even when she rejoined Team RWBY in volume five, it was to be with her sister and not because of her own morals (not that I think she's lacking in morals, just that her main motive was different.) This could lead to her having to figure out a lot of what she actually wants, being unsatisfied with being a Huntress in Atlas, being in over her head when things get serious, being more mentally exhausted than the others after long days, etc. Jaune - Wasn't ready to enter Beacon. Idk if he just wasn't allowed to go to a lesser combat school like Signal or if he flunked out, but he wasn't up to scratch to get into Beacon and cheated his way in. On top of that, he lacked in the emotional maturity department as well when he entered. Jaune was a little more invested in his own appearance than Ruby was, but still seemed to have similar good reasons for wanting to be a Hunter. And he did grow a lot. But he was much less prepared, skilled, or equipped to deal with the training or the career and it's a miracle he didn't die in the initiation. Granted, Jaune was handled arguably better than anyone else, since a lot of this was addressed, but these days it feels like it isn't actually playing a part in his character anymore that he's way below the people around him, and I feel like it should still be impacting him. Penny: Honestly, Penny seemed very newly born during the Beacon Arc. She might have been combat ready, but she also started spilling secrets to the first person who was a little bit nice to her, and was clearly naïve and childlike. Imagine if it had been Emerald that had befriended Penny instead of Ruby. Penny dying and then getting resurrected should've been deeply traumatizing for her and it should've made her undergo some major changes and been treated with importance in the show. Qrow: Literally wanted to be a Hunter in the first place to try and learn how to murder Huntsmen. He might have changed later and it’s not exactly relevant, but he arguably shouldn't have joined when he did either. Meanwhile, Nora's just one big mystery, because we don't know why she joined, and Ren likely joined for good reasons, but neither of them have ever actually talked about their motivations. The only character we can safely say joined for noble reasons and who was up to scratch and ready when she entered is Blake, who also had good reason to not fully trust the system she was working with, so there could've been complications and character interest there as well.

Please don't get me wrong, that doesn't mean I don't think the others should've been in school, I love that they were! I just think the writers should've explored the various ways they might've been not fully ready, not completely well suited to the job they took. The characters are allowed to be flawed and to flounder and it'd make them more full, nuanced characters imo.

On top of that, we have other Hunters to look to as well, outside of our main cast. Cardin, for example, was a terrible person, still in school and already abusing what little power he had to target a member of an oppressed minority group and blackmail other kids into doing his bidding, while plotting revenge on someone for correcting him on his anti-Faunus answer to a question. People like him should not be Hunters, and he was arguably our first sign (of many signs) that the position of Hunter can and will be taken advantage of and misused by bad people. And although the After the Fall/Before the Dawn books aren't canon, while reading BTD (I haven't finished it yet,) Coco and all her team members but Velvet also struck me as people I wouldn't want to be Hunters and wouldn't want to wield any sort of power. Coco is proudly described by one of her friends as sadistic, lets her unfounded opinions of people cloud her judgement, shows respect and admiration towards criminals, and enjoys her classmates being afraid of her. Fox is self-described as sadistic as well and is a bully who tried to use a classmate's phobia against them in a brute-like interrogation. And Yatsuhashi is leagues above the two of them, but also bullied Neptune despite saying the words 'I don't want to be a bully' and threatened him.

There are so many ways the writers could've explored people who went to Beacon too soon, weren't ready, or entered for the wrong reasons. Instead, outside of one conversation in season two about the girls’ motivations and Ren exploding that Jaune cheated his way into Beacon all the way in season eight, it seems like the only take away we're supposed to get is 'all these kids are officially the thing they wanted to be in the beginning and they're all amazing at it, woo!' No acknowledgement of the fact that they could use higher education still, that some of them are still immature or naïve, that some of them are still below the combat level they should be in, that some of them kinda haven't done super well since they left Beacon (cough Ruby cough.) It's all just... Flat, lackluster. And meanwhile, characters like Cardin were written out of the show easily. We've had plenty of examples of corruption in the Hunter business, but the show hasn't paid any attention to that and still is treating being a Hunter like the only true noble goal and the only good and non-corruptible way to defend people, despite the fact that it clearly isn’t. Being a Huntress is not better or safer or more noble in-universe than being an Atlas soldier/Ace Op/Atlas hunter. I’m not saying that all of this needed to be featured, but exploring the differences in motivation and how the Hunter lifestyle affected the various mains could really flesh out their characters. Instead, by the time everyone is heading to Atlas in volume six, they all pretty much have the same reactions to everything and the same motivations and the same beliefs. The rare deviation - like Ren in volume seven and eight - is treated as bad and a mistake that must be rectified, rather than... A natural consequence of the group being full of different people with different upbringings and different motivations that result in different opinions. That sort of thing is only ever explored as a problem that makes someone lacking, and it’s really weird and it makes the show feel... Juvenile, and lacking in nuance or depth when it comes to the characters, which is a really big shame, since the characters have a huge amount of potential and exploring the differences between them and their reactions to being in way over their heads would be - I think - the natural place to take their characters? Especially because so far their storyline has been... Not the highlight of the show.

But, as for how semblances and Hunters should impact the world building, there’s a lot to say about that! They don’t explore a lot in RWBY outside of what’s relevant to the mains, leaving the world building feeling flat and like the world itself doesn’t matter much. RWBY often feels more like a video game world than anything else, which I believe @why-i-hate-rwby-now has pointed out, so credit to them for helping me realize it. There’s one large location per continent and a couple small villages where they only really talk to a town leader and village blacksmith, or encounter a fight, relevant NPCs and characters only going to certain locations that can further the plot, characters only mattering through the ways they interact with the protagonists and seemingly getting benched with nothing to do if they aren’t currently plot relevant, health bars that can be monitored over scrolls, every weapon and semblance has a name even if that name isn’t ever mentioned in show or might not really make a lot of sense, frequently encountered enemies of various threat levels who the characters can plow down without remorse because they’re not sentient or don’t have souls... The list goes on. But one of the ways that it feels very video gamey is that the magical powers actually don’t seem to impact the world.

We know people can have auras even if they don’t have semblances (Mercury, Torchwick, Watts,) and we know lots of even grown people don’t have auras (the citizens of Mantle in danger of dying of cold while our aura having mains aren’t,) but also that auras can be unlocked, by well trained seventeen year olds (Pyrrha,) and we also know that semblances can be unlocked from a very young age due to trauma (Ren, Neptune in EU) but some people are born with their semblances (Qrow and notably Blake use language suggesting they were born with their semblances,) and some semblances are passed down or hereditary (the Schnees.) Semblances can be passive (Qrow, Clover, Ironwood in word of author,) and uncontrollable, or active (almost everyone else,) and some semblances have carried personal negative effects like in the case of Qrow who was even named for being bad luck and Robyn who said people were on edge with her because she can sus out the truth via skin contact when she wants to. Also Mercury’s father was able to somehow take away his semblance.

That’s... Pretty much the extent of our knowledge and it doesn’t tell us much. What RWBY does is give each character abilities that make them iconic and different from each other as fighters, with a shield function that wears down slowly to explain how they can take certain hits and keep going while also allowing them to eventually suffer higher damage when that shield wears down. They had a character get this shield ability unlocked to explain the existence and function of it, and featured some characters who didn’t have the super powered abilities like Roman, an early enemy meant to herald in new, harder enemies who are more plot relevant, and Mercury, who makes up for it by having higher speed and functions exclusive to him through his prosthetics. And then they seemingly built a regular world unaffected by these powers. It sounds like a video game. Civilians just don’t have this power or the shield because they act as non-playable characters. In a way, it almost makes sense to me in conception, because when RWBY was originally created, it was high on visual appeal, fight choreography, and character design. The plot elements were small and the character stories seemed to be pretty simple, the only real complication to this being the White Fang plot, which has always been a major blight in RWBY. But one of the reasons why this video-game feel kinda worked at the start of RWBY was because the story and characters weren’t meant to be the focus of the story, so although the world building at the start was definitely lacking, the audience knew that things like auras and semblances were meant to hype up and add interest to the main highlights of the show: Design and fight choreography. At least that’s what I assume. But in volume three, they started to lay the groundwork for more, bigger plots, more focus on the story, the characters journeying to the outside world, undergoing personal arcs, and that’s what V4 and onward started focusing on.

To be clear, I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing. I started really liking RWBY for its potential and concepts after getting through the first couple episodes of V1, but I actually really enjoyed quite a bit of V4 and V5 even though the design drastically changed and the fighting had gone way down in quality because I found some of the new focus on characters and the plot to be compelling, interesting, or to also have a lot of potential (though I was let down over and over in regards to pay off later.) However, with the new focus on the characters and storyline rather than design and fight choreography, they really needed to do some legwork on fixing the aura and semblance systems and paying attention to world building and making sure the world felt well put together, nuanced, and real. And I don’t feel like they ever did that.

Why is Pyrrha able to unlock auras? Well, because the writers wanted to explain the concept of auras and used Jaune - the unprepared - to do it. But now, auras are actually an important part of the story - for example, the people of Mantle don’t have unlocked auras, so will die of cold, but it doesn’t affect our heroes because they do have unlocked auras. So who can unlock auras? Is it a learned skill or is it hereditary? If it’s a learned skill, why isn’t everyone eager to learn it especially in places where it’s life or death if they don’t like in Atlas? If it’s a hereditary skill, why aren’t the people who have that skill put on a pedestal and being pressured into using that skill to save civilians in places where having an aura is the difference between life and death? In either case, why aren’t there people who professionally unlock auras? Why aren’t they on the pay roll in Atlas and Mantle? If it’s a skill that all powerful hunters have, why aren’t our heroes (who we’re supposed to think are now more powerful than Atlas’s best) unlocking auras for dying children in Mantle? Why don’t specialists and longtime fighters with Qrow, Winter, Robyn, Maria, or James have this ability if it comes with skill, time, or talent?

Why are semblances unlocking or morphing in times of trauma so rare? Why didn’t the Fall of Beacon unlock loads of new semblances and new semblance abilities? Why didn’t Ruby get a new semblance upgrade when she saw Weiss getting stabbed? Why didn’t Weiss unlock a new semblance ability when her plane was crashing? Why didn’t Pilot Boi unlock his semblance during the same occasion? Why is it that Jaune didn’t get a semblance upgrade when the light bridges were disappearing? Why didn’t Blake get a semblance upgrade when Yang fell into the void? Why did Ren get a semblance upgrade because he was upset while with the Ace Ops after Oscar got captured, but Nora doesn’t get an upgrade while she’s electrocuting herself? If semblances sometimes unlock in times of truama, why is it that some characters like Oscar and Torchwick and Jaune pre-V5 who we know have encountered lots of trauma just still don’t get semblances? If you can train your semblance into upgrading, why is it that we don’t see long time hunters and fighters unlock more semblance abilities, like Qrow, Winter, Robyn, Maria, or James? It just doesn’t make any sense! And I get that stories always have things happening just because the writers want it, but in RWBY, the hand of the creator is so obvious that it’s ridiculous.

And then there are other questions. Do people avoid bad labor practices out of fear of causing a semblance awakening? Well, from what we see of the SDC, the answer is no. So why not? Why weren’t they worried about an uprising? Work rights becomes a lot trickier when you have to add in tons of qualifiers. Maybe it’s illegal to use a semblance at work, but the SDC also has a history of child workers like Adam who can’t always control it (like Neptune couldn’t control his,) so are there laws protecting child laborers? Perhaps not, since you know, they were already child laborers, so were already suffering unchecked. Are there laws forbidding the use of semblances in government buildings, non-combat driven schools, or parks and libraries? And meanwhile, how would any of this apply to people with a passive semblance? How do you figure out that someone has a passive semblance? How do people know if they’re born with a semblance? Are there people that spend their whole lives having semblances that never get discovered? Do people have semblance detection... Semblances, that they get paid to use or do so out of charity? Did the Schnees rise to power due to their powerful and hereditary semblance, perhaps? Are people discriminated against if they don’t have semblances or pressured to become Hunters if they discover they do have semblances? Shouldn’t civilians in Mantle and Atlas be joining combat schools in droves in the hopes of unlocking an aura so they can better survive? And shouldn’t there be discrimination against people with certain semblances? Outside of Robyn saying she’s personally experienced mistrust, and Qrow’s self-hatred, we don’t see any real prejudice against certain semblance types, or for that matter, any praise or extra significance pointed to certain other semblance types. It would go a long ways towards world building if there were things like people having to divulge their semblance or lack thereof before entering Beacon, or for people to have to register a semblance evolution, or for Emerald to have lied about her semblance because “everyone knows illusion semblances automatically draw suspicion,” or for Qrow to comment that he’d never seen Clover in a Vytal Tournament, only for Clover to say his semblance was deemed ‘cheating’ back when he was in school so he hadn’t qualified. And on the flip side, you could have things like semblances being judged as better and more powerful based on how useful it might be, Pyrrha keeping her semblance on the DL because it’ll just bring more unwanted admiration on her, Sun keeping his own semblance on the DL too because it always make people put a lot of expectations on him, while Neptune’s semblance leaks and he deals with people treating him like he’s selfish and cruel for not wanting to use his own “gift of a semblance.” And people like Jaune could be bullied extra because he doesn’t have his semblance yet, and people in the stands at the Vytal Tournament could be chatting about “when are they gonna pull out their semblances?” and get annoyed and pouty when people don’t. To be fair, we do get things like Mercury’s father having declared his semblance a crutch, but... Still. why isn’t there more of this?

And we see the need for Hunter protection in villages like Kuroyuri and the village that Team RNJR stops to help on the way to Mistral. Small villages outside of the four kingdoms fall to Grimm, or are in danger of falling to Grimm. Ships get attacked by large and dangerous Grimm, we see (corrupt) Hunters on the train to Argus, accompanying for safety, and we see that with a rise of Grimm activity in Mantle, Hunters are dispatched to help kids travel to school. In a world like RWBY, fighting is essential for survival outside of the Kingdoms, and became very essential in the kingdoms as well once schools started going down. You’d assume there should be Hunters accompanying everyone traveling outside of the Kingdoms, resident Hunters living in villages outside the Kingdoms as their on-hand protectors (and more than one Hunters seems to be needed.) Hunters also could be extra protection for anything that’s definitely going to increase negativity, like hiring Hunters to bodyguard funerals seems like something that could be normal in the world of Remnant, and for visiting graveyards (we see Ruby get attacked by tons of Grimm when she visited Summer’s grave in the red trailer.) On top of that, celebrities and rich people hiring Hunters seems like it’d become pretty common. But all that we see outside of Dee and Dudley are traveling Hunters stopping to help people out of the goodness of their heart while they go place to place, and Kingdom Hunters who are assigned to things like border control, clearing out Grimm near or in the Kingdoms, and things like that. What we see is a Kingdom-centered morality complex our protagonists are one hundred percent invested in, Hunters are Kingdom driven and anything outside of that is a kindness, a job they can take or leave in passing. And on top of that, it seems like there aren’t a lot of people in the Hunter profession, and I feel like there should definitely be more. There are people like Jaune who didn’t make the cut but accepted that, we can only assume that there are drop outs too, so like... How many kids are there actually in a year at Beacon? I mean, look at where the Relics were found in the forest during initiation at Beacon.

This gives us a rough idea of how many people are in each year at Beacon. Assuming everyone graduates school and there’s no drop outs and no deaths, that’s a graduating class of twenty. That’s a very small number, comparatively. The job of a Hunter is dangerous. We know of Hunters that died (Summer, Pyrrha, Amber.) We know a lot of Hunters that have other jobs that take a lot of their time (Glynda, Ozpin, Robyn,) and lots of people who quit being Hunters too (Maria, Tai, Raven,) and Hunters who aren’t always on the field like Qrow who was a teacher for a stretch and acted as Ozpin’s spy, the Ace Ops who became part of Ironwood’s inner circle and therefore had a bigger picture, and even all of Team RWBYJNR, who got their Hunter licenses but are also more concerned with bigger picture stuff (if you don’t believe me just look at volume eight where JRY stopped defending Mantle to go rescue Oscar, and Team RWBN + Penny, who were involved in big picture stuff like launching Amity and then saving Penny the Maiden/their friend.) So out of a class of twenty, how many of them are even staying on the field? For a show pushing the narrative that Hunters are the ultimate saviors who are the only true good defense for the world, that condemns even the notion of an army... Like they villainized sending Team FNKI onto the battlefield while also treating it like proof of Ironwood’s evil when he didn’t want to stay and fight when Team RWBY said to, and also made Ironwood’s desire to move into having a robotic army to get soldiers off of the battlefield part of his... Over reliance on machinery, which is full on suspicious considering their ableism towards Ironwood and the fact that he literally has to rely on machinery, but that’s a topic for a different post and this one is already so long. But yeah, my point is that we’re meant to see the army as bad. So if we’re meant to see Hunters as the only true and pure form of defense (which is already off because we know it’s corrupted,) there ought to be way more people in the Hunter field.

As for the schools, we only know of a couple of schools that exist outside of RWBY as combat schools that seem to act as basic training before people go to Beacon. We know of Signal, the school Ruby and Yang went to that Qrow was a teacher at for awhile (I have lots of teacher Qrow headcanons, but sadly Qrow being a teacher wasn’t very well explored,) and we also know of Sanctum in Mistral and (in the EU) Oscuro in Vacuo, presumably one of these existing in Atlas as well. I personally headcanon that there are a lot of these smaller combat schools littering the whole of Remnant (but then again, I also headcanon that the Kingdoms of Remnant are bigger than just one very large city, lol) and that a lot of people attend these schools even if they don’t go on to join one of the Hunter Academies, but this isn’t necessarily supported by canon, I think. But as for other schools...I think it’s fair to assume that there are at least elementary schools, since everyone can read, write, and presumably do basic math, and what we do know is that Ilia went to a prep school in Atlas (which was info dropped in Blake’s pre-V5 trailer, not even stated in the show proper,) so we can probably safely say that people who don’t go to the Huntsman academies go to some form of high school, but you’re right that we don’t see this actually in action. I personally always headcanon that Whitley had a tutor, since Jacques wanted to avoid too much outside influence.

I am so sorry that this response got so away from me and I myself got into so many rabbit holes as well. XD I just have a lot to say about the world building in RWBY (or sometimes lack thereof.) Although I admit that I’m not as into or as good at analyzing as blogs like why-i-hate-rwby-now, but yeah, this is... A very long post. Sorry!

#rwde #anti rwby #rwby bashing #rwby hate #this post includes some #pro ironwood #pro james ironwood #also it's not like I've done a lot of extensive research so please be kind #if I missed something #IW antis please leave me alone

24 notes · View notes

gayregis · 4 years ago

Note

hi! why do u think Regis doesn’t not exist as a character without hansa?

i am so glad you asked this question!! it's something important to me when it comes to regis's character that was made apparent to me after i read the hansa parts of baptism of fire, tower of the swallow, and lady of the lake. this argument came to me from flipping back and forth between games!regis as he appears in blood & wine, and books!regis as he appears originally.

this train of thought stems from the differences between book and game regis, which i think i have already described at length somewhere else (edit, i found some thoughts (still couldnt find the og post i had in mind though, idk where it is, it was very long and i wrote it on a train): (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x))

but to summarize, games!regis isn't as personal with geralt, he doesn't seem committed to humanity at all, and his scenes involve more depressing and violent overtones (forced relapse? unable to control self with tempting of blood, having to be locked in a cage? what in the spiral...). in this analysis of the differences between games and book regis, i attributed some of games!regis's OOC-ness to the lack of the rest of geralt's hansa.

i think that regis cannot really be an accurate representation of his character without the presence or at the very least, the acknowledgement of, the other members of the hansa in a sincere and involved manner.

the conditions that i mean by this: when i refer to the "rest of the hansa," i mean at the very least geralt, dandelion, milva, and cahir (since angouleme was introduced later), but especially milva, for reasons i will desciribe later. when i refer to a "sincere and involved manner," i mean to say that the characters can't just sit there as pretty background or interact once and never again - they actually have to interact multiple times if not constantly, have meaningful conversations which demonstrate things about their characters, play off of each other in humorous exchanges, etc.

okay now onto my two main points

i. positive relationships with other members of the hansa demonstrate commitment to humanity

regis’s primary character goal and purpose in-universe is to be the “epitome of humanity.” i ask, how is this goal ever going to get represented or achieved if he never speaks to or interacts with any humans on a meaningful level other than geralt?

regis’s first and foremost role, that we learn as an audience as he introduces himself in his character debut in fen carn, is that he’s a barber-surgeon. this means that he is a healer, his whole job (which is quite significant in a medieval-esque setting such as this, one’s job pretty much defines their entire life, which you can see with geralt, yennefer, dandelion, milva, cahir, etc) is that he heals people and tries to help as many human lives as possible.

how is he supposed to be a surgeon if he never actually is shown healing anyone? if he doesn’t have close relationships with the hansa, who else is he supposed to heal? one of the large parts that regis provides the company in baptism of fire is that he actually functions as a healer. he assists the peasant milva gave a concussion to, he sews the head wound dandelion garnered from his and geralt’s escape from the partisan camp, and he helps milva with her options relating to her pregnancy and later immediately goes to provide medical attention when she begins to miscarry. these actions demonstrate not only his role in society and demonstrate how he fits into the world of the witcher, but demonstrate his committment to humanity and to the wellbeing of others.

but of course, he could heal random other humans. why does he need to be around the hansa, specifically?

regis has many valuable interactions with the hansa, part of which i’ll expand on in my second point, but his developed friendships with each of the members and as a group begin to define him as committed to humanity not only in a general ethical sense, but in a personal manner.

i have mentioned this “arrogant immortal vampire” archetype (think of like, a vampire that thinks they’re so much better, powerful, and knowledgable than humans just because they are a vampire) that regis is completely the opposite of, and we get to see that he is the opposite of this archetype only through his interactions with the rest of the hansa.

it’s parts like when dandelion notices, “i see you know your fish!” and regis replies modestly, “i know lots of things :)!” or when regis criticizes geralt for not having a goal and that the cardinal directions of the compass mean nothing to him, and milva disagrees and says, “but ciri’s his goal? how can you say she’s nothing?” and regis apologizes and explains he was joking, without much tact... when regis treats angouleme with distance in their first meeting and tries to accuse her of lying, but then gives her his horse and in the next book defends her against fringilla/distracts fringilla’s sharp tongue from her and onto him. regis demonstrates humility and respect for others, as well as genuine friendship to others and propensity for humor during his interactions in the hansa.

without the hansa, specifically in blood and wine, what is regis? he doesn’t interact with anyone else, only geralt, maybe another vampire. how is he supposed to demonstrate and develop such meaningful interaction, good nature, and weighty values towards humanity without ever having the opportunity to be amongst friends? he simply will be a shell of the character he is supposed to be if he is separated from the hansa which defines him.

ii. contrasts with other characters develop character

regis without the rest of the hansa will be expotentially weaker as a character because his qualities are not effectively made apparent without contrasting him against other characters.

i think milva and regis in baptism of fire have a very good character dynamic in that they are kind of opposites of one another. milva is action, force, to kill. regis is talk, placation, to heal. they address situations in extremely different manners, and have extremely different senses. this is good because they are both members of geralt’s company, and are liable to sway geralt either way, sort of representing a fork in the crossroads, or an angel and devil on his shoulders.

this is apparent in many scenes, but the ones that first come to mind are in baptism of fire, when regis describes the refugee camp in a very elaborate manner and then milva tells him “why use three dozen words, when three will suffice?” and is very blunt about the situation, and later when they are sitting by the fire as regis dispells myths about vampires, milva criticizes his philosophy and points out how generally useless it is. neither character is wrong in this situation, but their exchanges provide an opposite to compare the other to.

if regis spoke about philosophy on his own, and geralt nodded and muttered “hm...” (as you might see in tw3), or argued a little with him about what he was proposing, but ultimately conceded (as you see in baptism of fire), then what you as a reader get from this exchange is that regis philosophizes. that gives you information about his character, but it’s essentially useless - what does that say about him? he philosophizes. great, that’s good for him. but it doesn’t make him stand out as a character, because there’s no dissenting voice or someone to argue with him and point out the faults in his approach.

by milva addressing regis’s approach as not the only way to approach a situation and to give another perspective, you learn something valuable about both of their characters: regis doesn’t just philosophize, he philosophizes unnecessarily, to the point of annoying and excessiveness. milva doesn’t just come at things from a simple point of view, she is headstrong and unwilling to entertain ideas she deems stupid. this is so much more interesting than just regis talking on his own, and no one responding to it with a genuinely different viewpoint or approach. geralt may argue with him, but in tw3 geralt is more of a vessel for the player to adopt rather than a character so his responses are limited, and also in baptism of fire, geralt is more wanton to argue with regis about the actual topic regis brings up: for example, discussing vampires and the symbolism of blood. geralt disagrees with regis’s analysis of the symbolism of blood and engages with him on this, milva disagrees with addressing the whole subject in a philosophical manner entirely.

and it’s not just contrasts... it’s also the general exchanges they have as a company, like regis getting excited about what dandelion is writing in the tower of the swallow, like angouleme calling him uncle and him trying to address her formally but she gives him more sass, like when they are walking in angren and regis points out the pines, “take a closer look at those trees,” and begins to lecture them, like when regis reappears and gives advice to geralt despite geralt trying to get rid of him. it’s this kind of human interaction which demonstrates to the reader his character traits, what kind of behavior he is prone to, how he is liable to respond in a given situation.

idk how to end this but basically yeah like regis needs his friends :( i also believe that more broadly, as it relates to real life, that we are defined by the people we share our lives with and how we treat them, not by our own conception of ourselves. it is our actions towards others and care which make an impact on this world and show what our inner characters are like

#regis #the witcher #bw #arinasassymessi #ask #long post /

45 notes · View notes

c-ptsdrecovery · 4 years ago

Text

Reading up again on covert narcissism has been really helping me explain some things about my trauma and about my mom’s behavior. Like, I knew she was a covert narcissist, but I’d forgotten how tortuous the workings of a CN’s brain are. Some things I’ve realized, involving some quoting from the above source:

--They want you to feel a confusion between praise and shame, and to feel that you are less than them. It’s a combination of “How dare you achieve?!” and “But you’re still not as good as me.”

--Their praise contains negging. That’s why even when she complimented me, I never felt like I was good enough. Just like the time she read my dissertation and went, “It’s okay... bit dry.” She could always argue that I had myself said it was the more boring version of the dissertation, could argue that other things she had read of mine were better... But at the end of the day, I heard her intended message loud and clear: it’s not good enough.

--Her praise at required times (like telling me I did a good job after a school concert or something) always felt less sincere than my dad’s and I could never figure out why. Well, it’s because deep down she 1) resented that I did well, 2) resented that I had the attention in that situation, and 3) wanted to tear down my self esteem so I would see her as better than me, and so that she could more easily manipulate me in the future

--You can never do things well enough for them. They always have to do things better than you. That’s why I was never good enough at chores, especially cooking and dishwashing. That’s always why she came up with ridiculous reasons to be angry at me every time I brought her my credit card receipts. When she could no longer argue that I was spending too much or that I didn’t give her all the receipts, she began to complain that the receipts were slightly crumpled along one edge! HEAVEN FORBID!

--They refuse to acknowledge your accomplishments. They want you to KNOW they’re not impressed. ...This really explains why she intentionally (and uncharacteristically) tied up the phone line around the time I would finish defending my dissertation so that it was 45 minutes before I could get through to tell her I passed. Because she was jealous that I was getting a PhD and she wanted me to know how little my achievement meant to her. Her jealousy of my achievement was also why her worst abuse began the week I defended (and continued for three years afterward!)

--Mom used to argue that she thought well of my achievements by telling me how she was always bragging about me to her friends. Likewise, she would tell me constantly about how her friends said nice things about me to her. But these things were not about me: they were about HER. She was using MY qualities and achievements to build up HERSELF, not me. If these things had really been self-esteem building for ME she wouldn’t have said anythign about them, because she had a vested interest in me not thinking well of myself.

--I had an absolute COMPLEX about NEVER acknowledging my own achievements or qualities--to the point where I can’t take compliments or ring my own bell AT ALL because it feels SO WRONG--because the cardinal sin of our family is to think well of ourselves. We’re only supposed to think really well of HER.

--They want you to feel unimportant and small

--They want you to know they don’t care about your time or your feelings

--No one’s time, wants, or needs matter except their own

--I still get super anxious when my mom is upset about anything, because her feelings were always my problem. She expected me and everyone else to be entirely focused on her feelings when she was upset, so even if they weren’t my fault, I was made to feel that they were my fault.

--She apologized to me once for being so cold and unloving and cried at me. I said cried AT me because the only reason she was apologizing (because she’s PERFECT; why would she apologize for anyting??) was to make me feel guilty for suspecting her of being cold and unloving, and also to get attention and narcissistic supply from me as I comforted her (which I am proud to say, I did not do). She turned it from an issue of “daughter’s feelings were hurt; let’s focus on her” to “Mom is upset; let’s focus on HER”

--They demand you abide by their wishes. Even when they don’t express them to you. I was always expected to read her mind. The fact that I couldn’t was more evidence of how I wasn’t good enough.

--She forgot me at the bus stop once, and forgot REPEATEDLY to pick me up at school after practice. She had to walk a fine line between “i’m the perfect mother” and “i want you to know that you don’t matter to me/ how dare you require that i put myself out to pick you up?”

--they ostentatiously volunteer to show what a good person they are (teaching Sunday school, joining the library board, working for Christ Among Neighbors)

--she’s extra-sickening on Facebook. “Birthday blessings be upon you, (name)!” because she wants people to know how great she is

--they want to gaslight, manipulate, and confuse you in order to destabilize and manipulate you

--”You’re so sensitive”. Even though they’re obviously the most fragile ego in the room! they can take ANYTHING as an insult! you have to GROVEL to make them believe you’re saying something nice! (this is just a way to get you to say a lot of nice things about them)

--that time i told her i was feeling suicidal and she SIGHED and ROLLED HER EYES and said, “do you need to talk to somebody?” like I was ruining her evening. She wanted me to know how little she cared about my feelings while also saying just enough to have plausible deniability later if I told her her response hurt me (”but i tried to get you help! what do you MEAN my tone of voice was mean?? you always take things the wrong way. I think you hear insults where there aren’t any.”)

--They want you to feel that your emotions, which are inconvenient to THEM, are a negative part of your psyche and a reason that other people won’t like you. They want you to feel that they are in control of their emotions,and their emotions are always right, while yours are not.

--they make you feel small and stupid for needing emotional support. THEY’RE so independent! (except when you have to stroke their egos...)

--they ignore their “loved ones” (no wonder I felt so alone as a child. even now i’m DYING for attention. when other people get attention/praise for things i know i can do as well or better than them i’m TORN because i want other people to treat ME like that, but i can’t draw their attention to myself because that’s so WRONG. and also if i DO get their attention, then i can’t take the compliments anyway.)

--they don’t need to praise others because they’re so obviously superior!

--i was always uncomfortable when my mom sang. i always felt like she thought she was SO GOOD a singer, when she was only mediocre. it always felt icky to me listening to her sing or play the flute.

--they get angry when you’re sick. GOD, that explains SO MUCH. The time i kept nearly passing out and ended up just lying on the kitchen floor because every time i sat up i felt woozy again and i asked her to make me a sandwich because my low blood sugar was part of the problem and she was clearly ANGRY and COLD and didn’t say a WORD to me as she made me the sandwich. like, your daughter is unable to get off the floor, and beyond one, “are you okay” there’s absolutely NO care there. it’s no wonder i write so much hurt/comfort wherein someone is sick and the other person Notices and Cares for them... it’s wish fulfillment!

--they’re condescending.

--they forget about your requests on purpose. she’s always buying me just slightly the wrong thing for christmas and birthdays.

--i showed her some very artistic self-affirmations i wrote once and she started disagreeing with all the nice things i said about myself. because how dare i have self-esteem when SHE was there?

--they make people fight each other. kinda explains my brother and me and our undying enmity...

--they project their own issues onto you. that’s why she tells me i’m always so angry and that i hurt people a lot with my tone of voice. and that i’m oversensitive.

--they give you the silent treatment and make you beg and plead.

--they never try to make you happy (or if they do, it’s only for show. like buyign you SLIGHTLY the wrong thing, over and over again. plausible deniability. “i TRIED! i was being GENEROUS! how DARE you nitpick my presents!”)

--they intentionally ruin special days for you, especially birthdays. because they resent you being the center of attention. i remember the first time she let me have a birthday party with friends instead of older relatives (she always invited my aunts and uncles to my birthday parties instead of people my age because SHE wanted to be the center of attention at the parties, not me. the parties were for HER, not for me.) at this child’s birthday party, she organized all the games and ran them all and was very much the center of attention. the only thing i really remember from that party was the game she created and led entirely.

--they don’t really know anything about you. GOD, how very true. neither of my parents have a fucking clue about my personality, my tastes, my interests, or my sense of humor. they know about them on an EXTREMELY surface level. “oh, she likes cats. she did ballet for years. she likes trees.”

--the reason mom got mad at me when i cried as a child was not, as she told me many years later, because she was upset that she was unable to comfort me adequately. The problem was that SHE wasn’t in the spotlight. she was required to pretend to care about MY feelings. She couldn’t comfott me adequately because i sensed that she was mad about me crying, rather than loving me and having compassion. she sent me to my room when i cried so i wouldn’t be the center of attention--and also to punish me for being so.

--i’m scared of spending money because mom 1) made me feel guilty for spending money on myself, because everything should be about HER [seriously, i got seriously scolded once for buying things for myself on a shopping trip instead of ONLY buying xmas presents for the family]. 2) made me scared about our financial situation because she wanted to have money for herself first and foremost for what SHE wanted. Thus her and Dad scaring the ever-living SHIT out of me last summer about finances and then turning around and buying themselves iphones.

--i’ve always felt so alone because subconsciously i always knew mom didn’t love me, even though consciously i made myself believe it. and of course i could never know if dad did, because even now, it’s a pretty fuzzy issue (which basically means he doesn’t. le sigh)

you know what? i’m going to get out that art project of self-affirmations and add some shit to it about being able to see through other people’s bullshit. because GODDAMN, i deserve a fucking MEDAL. i’m not going to let her negging make me continue to feel bad about those affirmations. because she’s just full of shit.

#narcissism #narcissistic abuse #emotional abuse #covert narcissist

27 notes · View notes

midnghtprentiss · 5 years ago

Text

Royalty - Chapter One.

Olivia felt her body heavy the moment she put on the dress. It was not the type of clothing she wore at the convent, it was full of sparkles and lacy scraps. On his head was the crown that clearly showed his destiny. Queen of a man she knew and a desperate nation. In a place where she did not know.

"Majesty, we are ready to go. " One of the guards approached, bowing first.

"Just one more minute." Olivia stammered, approaching Sister Mary. "Thanks for everything, Mary. I will never forget you."

"You have no time to waste, Olivia. Soon you will be married to Prince Luke who will also be king. Win his heart and you'll be able to get through it." Sister Mary gave the girl a hug and then went on her way to the carriage.

The carriage was large and comfortable enough for a long journey. Olivia liked to travel around the country, even though she didn't do it very often. She liked to observe nature, people and places, which would soon be in her possession. The region was beautiful, full of chateaus and villages. As well as it was full of animals and plants different from what I was used to.

"Princess, we're coming. Get ready." One of the guards alerted on his horse.

The castle was beautiful. Full of flowers and flags showing that it belonged to the royal family. Some servants and royal guests were waiting for their carriage at the entrance to the castle. The moment they stopped, the door was opened for Olivia, who went down and looked around. The instant she saw Grace and Nora with their chaperones, she ran to meet him. Hugging them as tightly as I could.

"Olivia! How are you" Grace hugged her friend and then made room for the others.

"How I missed you. Did you travel well? We have a lot to talk about later. " Olivia smiled and looked at the castle door.

Queen Liz, King Andy. With his bastard son Calum. But no sign of Luke. The women quickly started walking in the same direction, but before a tall, blond boy came in.

"Majesty. " He bowed briefly before extending his arm.

" Luke! " Olivia shook her head and walked away. "You are ... Bigger. I have to admit that this new form of you has gone well with you."

"You look beautiful, Your Highness." He smiled, showing his flushed cheeks and stretching his arm so she could catch him.

"Call me Olivia, please. " She smiled, fitting her arm, going towards the rest of the people.

Wherever she went, people bow, whisper and smile. Olivia was the queen everyone expected to replace Liz on the throne. Liz had an ambition to protect her children at all costs, even if it cost her own life.

After the formalities, Olivia and her ladies were directed to their royal quarters. The walls were lined with light fabrics filled with flowers, while the ceiling with gold details had some paintings. Solid wood furniture with chandeliers. The bed with posts that held a white silk veil, made the whole environment less scary and cozy. Not as a child, but it was still cozy.

She sat on the bed, feeling the soft, fluffy fabric, letting her body slide in the middle and the mattress welcoming her in a simple and comfortable way. However, she was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Oli, we need to get ready for your dinner. The king wants to do especially to flatter the future queen of Australia and daughter-in-law. " Nora murmured entering the room and approaching.

"I think I'll explore the castle before I do anything." The girl stood up quickly, adjusting her cottage around her body.

"We meet here in an hour, right? " She quickly agreed and walked away.

Those walls and corridors kept secrets and saw things that can never leave Olivia's memory. She and Luke used to run and play all over this place. They created a world without even leaving, but after she went to the convent, he abandoned the games and high imagination.

She walked down the steps they were running on and where Luke had tried to steal a kiss for the first time. He was so ashamed that he had to run. At the end of the stairs there was a room, where were his old rooms. The door was open and then Olivia could see that Luke was there and where there was a bed now she had a piano.

"Since when have you played? " Olivia murmured, leaning against the door.

"Hm, hi. Since you left. I didn't have anyone else to run or imagine and you know the rules with Calum." She smiled and approached, looking around.

"I remember that room. We stayed here for hours. Imagining the future where we weren't royalty and didn't even need protection." Olivia commented, running her hands over the old furniture.

"It was good and as if we were free. Nobody else comes here. Just me. It is good to be able to work on so many memories." Luke smiled, approaching. "Don't you have to get ready for the party?"

"I can do that later. I needed to come by before. " She smiled and stood up. "I didn't mean to disturb you. Anyway, it's good to know that you take care of it here."

Olivia walked out, leaving the room behind, walking down the stairs quickly. Heading towards your room.

Her ladies were already waiting for her, with some jewelry and dresses she could choose from. Olivia was an easy person to please and that was a very good quality, but when it wasn't her days, nothing pleased her.

Grace helped her to wear a green sleeveless dress with gold details all over the sleeves and shoulders, with a medium tail and lace on the front, highlighting her well-designed medium body. The crown on his head fitted into the locked hairstyle. The ruby earrings that had been gifts from the English queen.

"You look stunning, majesty." A male voice had echoed through the room. He was a blond boy and a little shorter. "I'm Michael, your coast guard and if you want, I can be your friend too."

"Oh, hello Michael. You can call me Olivia." She smiled approaching the boy. " I would love for you to be my friend and faithful companion."

He smiled and bowed. The ladies left and Olivia followed, walking next to Michael who kept his hands close to his sword and his posture upright.

"Calum chose me along with Luke to be your guard. " He asked, looking through the corridors.

"I trust them to entrust my life to you. Thanks." As soon as they approached the main hall the doors were opened.

All attention was directed to the woman who passed by, no longer as a child, but as a woman. Noble people greeted her, others ignored her, but none of them could deny that Olivia was not funny. His light steps, straight posture and hands close to his body.

"Olivia, I want to introduce you to Cardinal Louis. He was sent by the Vatican. " King Andy approached introducing the man who smiled kindly.

"It's a pleasure, Cardinal. " He nodded and left.

"You look stunning, Olivia. " The queen said looking up and down as she looked. "Fit for a queen."

"Thanks. " The girl agreed and was soon called by the ladies. "Let's Dance." Olivia pulled her friends to the middle of the dance floor, dancing what they knew because of the dancing melody of the orchestra.

Luke and Calum watched them from a distance. They drew attention, but the pedestal was all Olivia's and no one had any doubt about it. Her presence in the country made some people fear war or worse. But without a doubt the salvation of the Hemmings was in the Pristol family, precisely in Olivia and in the future children that she and Luke would have.

"Can I ask for a dance? " Luke murmured, extending his hand to Olivia who took it without hesitation, passing it over the boy's shoulders. "You look beautiful, Olivia."

"You look beautiful, as always, Luke. It looks like we're going to have to get used to these events after we get married." He shook his head, turning the woman over.

"If we get married. It all depends on the circumstances my father decides." Olivia raised an eyebrow.

"You don't want to marry me, do you? " Olivia's voice sounded hard, but she wasn't surprised. "I'm doing what's right for my country, but I'm not going to wait too long Luke. Australia is my alliance, but it is not the only option."

Olivia moved away, leaving the middle of the dance floor, heading for a less busy corner. She smiled at Michael who kept a safe distance.

"Diplomacy is not easy, is it?" Calum's voice echoed through the background, making her jump in surprise.

"Good to see you, Cal. There were so many letters during twelve years that I can recognize you from afar." He smiled at the compliment, laughing quietly.

"How is your stay going? " The girl murmured, handing him a glass of wine.

"It is not as comfortable as the convent, but it will soon be. Or not." She shrugged. "I'm a part of the game here. I may stay until I marry your brother, if we get married.

" don't know much about diplomacy but I understand about Luke and he doesn't like that." Calum always tried to defend his brother and that was mutual.

"I don't know, Cal. If they don't find me useful, I have to find someone who thinks otherwise." Olivia smiled, placing her hands on the boy's shoulder before leaving.

Attention went to the king a while later to organize a toast in honor of the future queen.

"Olivia's return represents a new beginning and reconstruction of our nation. To the Queen Olivia of New Zealand." Everyone raised their glasses celebrating Olivia's life.

At the end of the party, she decided to return without the chaperones, only with Michael who maintained the same posture, just looked a little tired. Olivia offered to take a nap, but he denied it and went about his business.

"Mike, being a woman is difficult. I have to be quiet until men want me to speak, but I'm not that kind of woman" Olivia murmured, drawing the attention of the guard who crossed his arms. "I'm Olivia Pristol, queen of New Zealand and if Australia wants me to be part of the game, so be it my way."

44 notes · View notes

luimnigh · 6 years ago

Text

The True Allegory of the Faunus Plot

Or: the Faunus Plotline is actually great, y’all are just Amero-centric.

I’ve always enjoyed the Faunus Plotline in RWBY, and I’ve never really understood the criticisms. But recently, I saw someone talking about how “Adam doesn’t fit the Malcolm X role” and I had a realization why.

For natural reasons, the African-American Civil Rights Movement and subsequent movements are the most prominent touchstone to Americans on the subject of racism and civil rights. It’s the thing that you guys automatically compare stories with racism allegories to. And while the Faunus Plotline does have parallels, it fails to follow that sort of narrative, and as a result it’s kinda throwing people off.

But I don’t think that’s a failure of writing. I think the fandom, as a whole, is looking at the wrong racism.

Now, let me be clear: no matter what race you are, if you feel that the Faunus Plotline represents you, that is completely valid. I’m not here to take that away from you. All oppressed peoples face similar struggles.

But I believe that the intent of the writers is not to create an allegory for African-American discrimination, but instead to create an allegory for Anti-Irish discrimination.

Or, TL;DR: The Faunus are Irish, Atlas is Britain, Vacuo is America, and our heroes are partaking in Gulliver’s Travels.

Confused? I’ll explain under the cut.

Part One: The Faunus As Irish

I started recognizing the parallels between the Faunus Plotline and the history of Ireland around the Volume 4/Volume 5 hiatus. It started off, as the plotline did, with the White Fang.

The evolution of the White Fang matches incredibly well with the evolution of the Troubles in Northern Ireland. In the mid-1960s, inspired by the African-American Civil Rights Movement, an Irish Civil Rights Movement sprung up in Northern Ireland. While there was no official legislation discriminating against the Irish specifically, there was rampant institutionalized discrimination; voting laws that ensured only homeowners could vote (not many Irish owned homes, and many avenues towards homeownership were discriminatory); and gerrymandering that ensured Unionist control over local government, even in locations where Unionists were a minority.

These protests maintained a policy of non-violence. But they were often met with violence, from both counter-demonstrators and police forces. Which lead to protestors arming themselves for self-defense

Thanks to police violence, the situation in Northern Ireland deteriorated into rioting and violence in the streets. Which lead the British Military being brought in to restore order, which lead to an escalation of tensions as they took the Unionist side of the conflict The situation was exploited by a paramilitary force called the Irish Republican Army, which originally advocated for self-defense, but after a schism in the group, became determined to wage an armed struggle against British Rule in Northern Ireland.

You might be seeing the parallels now.

They waged a campaign of guerilla warfare for several decades, striking not only military and political targets, but also commercial targets. They were held in high esteem by the majority of the Irish population of Northern Ireland, seen as defenders of the community. They were seen by some as holding themselves to “standards”. For example, alerting authorities of bombing targets in advance so that they could evacuate the area of civilians, causing only infrastructural/material damage. Despite this, there were still civilian casualties across the entire campaign.

Over the course of the Troubles, civilian deaths began to sour opinion towards the IRA. People turned away from them due their growing disregard for such civilian casualties, ultimate leading to a growth in popularity for the peace movement. This ultimately culminated into a series of ceasefires and the IRA coming to the table and signing the Good Friday Agreement in April 1998, a peace deal which stands to this day. The last of the public goodwill towards armed conflict died in August 1998, when an IRA splinter group bombed the town of Omagh, killing 29 people, all civilians.

You can see the parallels right? The White Fang began as a peaceful Civil Rights Movement, were forced into a policy of self-defense due to violence against them, and the movement was co-opted by a faction advocating waging a campaign of violence, but violence that they held to “standards”. However, over the course of the campaign, these “standards” began to be disregarded and ultimately the Faunus turned against the White Fang. Hell, both armed campaigns had tacit approval from the people of the “homelands” (Menagerie/the Republic of Ireland) for the majority of the conflict.

But the parallels with Irish history aren’t just limited to the Troubles. The Faunus Rights Revolution took place in the aftermath of The Great War after promises of equal rights turned out to be false. Meanwhile, the Irish War for Independence took place in the aftermath of The Great War (World War I) after promises of a devolved parliament turned out to be false.

And there are even parallels between the epicentres of discrimination for both peoples.

Part 2: Atlas As Britain

Let’s not beat around the bush here: in history, Britain has treated Ireland and the Irish horribly. And Atlas seems designed to parallel Britain in many ways, especially the British Empire at its height. The largest fleets in their respective worlds; centres for the development of science and technology; stuck on a cold, wet island with limited resources; having a neighbouring land that it controls and takes resources from; a history of discriminatory practices against races it believes are beneath it.

Hell, stop for a minute and think for me? Give me a named character that practices anti-Faunus discrimination.

Cardin Winchester? Based on Henry Beaufort, the Cardinal of the English City of Winchester.

Roman Torchwick? Visually based on Alex DeLarge from A Clockwork Orange, a work set in a futuristic Britain.

Caroline Cordovin? Based on the nursery rhyme The Little Old Lady Who Lived in a Shoe, itself speculated to be about Queen Caroline of Great Britain.

And I know what you’re about to say: the Schnees. They’re German, right? Yeah, but that plays into the theme of “Atlas as Britain” too. The Schnees are surrounded by Royal imagery (“a royal test”, “ice queen”). They’re Atlas’ Royal Family.

Did you know that since the 1700s, the Royal Family of Great Britain has been German? First the House of Hanover, then the House of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, which changed it’s name to the House of Windsor due to a rise in Anti-German sentiment in World War I.

Honestly, though? While I’d noticed the parallels between the history of the Faunus and history of the Irish before, I didn’t personally see the parallels between Atlas and Great Britain until the Volume 6 finale. Which also convinced me these parallels were intentional.

You see, after seeing Atlas for the first time, the second thing to pop into my head (right after “Cloud City”) was “Laputa”.

The Castle in the Sky from the Ghibli film? No, it’s namesake.

Part 3: This is where Gulliver’s Travels comes in.

You’ve heard of Gulliver’s Travels, right? It’s that kids story with the guy who washes up on the island full of little people.

Yeah, most of what you know about Gulliver’s Travels is wrong. It was written by Jonathan Swift, the pre-eminent satirist of the day, and it’s work of satire. It’s supposed to be a crude parody of Robinson Crusoe, with subject matter not meant for the eyes of children. The version you see as a child is heavily sanitized, and usually has most of the story cut.

See, Gulliver ends up in four different lands. First, Lilliput, where he is big and important. Lilliput obsesses over trivial matters, and when Gulliver is sent on a war mission for Lilliput, he completes it but not to their satisfaction. Ultimately, while doing something he believes is helping (putting out a blaze in the Queen’s Palace), he commits a faux pas (he did it with piss) and ends up having to leave Lilliput.

Yes, I am drawing parallels with the Beacon Arc.

Then, Gulliver ends up in Brobdingnag, the land of giants. This is usually the furthest the adaptations ever go. In Brobdingnag, he’s small and unimportant, but still a curiosity that people want to possess and objectify. Unlike in Lilliput, he lacks agency, despite meeting with the leader of Brobdingnag himself. He’s even kept in a house for the majority of his time there, only taken out when wanted.

Yeah. This is starting to sound a little familiar.

On his third voyage, he ends up in Laputa. Laputa is a flying city full of upper-class scientists. It takes the resources of the land below, Balnibarbi, and if they ever seek to rebel, they use their air superiority to violently crush the rebellion (usually by throwing rocks down, occasionally by landing the city on the offending rebels). The men of Balnibarbi are obsessed with science, but not to any useful pursuits, attempting things like extracting sunlight from cucumbers. They’re so self-absorbed they literally cannot see things going on right in front of them, including the affairs of their neglected wives.

Laputa was designed by Swift explicitly as a condemnation of the colonial practices of the British Empire, and “science for science’s sake” attitude of the Royal Society of London.

In fact, in a series of paragraphs considered too bold to print, Swift details the successful rebellion of the city of Lindalino against Laputa. They build giant towers of magnetic materials to prevent Laputa from flying above them, and would tear the city apart if they tried to land on top of them.

Lindalino is supposed to represent Ireland, Dublin specifically. (Lindalino -> Two “Lin”s -> Double “Lin” -> Dublin) Swift was Irish himself, and a known supporter of Irish Independence.

It was when I saw that Atlas was a floating island full of scientists, and the epicentre of anti-Faunus discrimination, that I began to believe this couldn’t be coincidence anymore. It had to be purposeful. RWBY was making reference to Gulliver’s Travels, and specifically to a part of it that was based on Anglo-Irish relations, while setting the stage for a large-scale Human-Faunus conflict. I could accept that the previous parallels were accidental, an unconscious thing added to the story, but Atlas having striking similarity to Laputa was too much of a coincidence to reasonably be a coincidence.

Part 4: Vacuo, and the future.

So where does Vacuo fit in?

Well, Vacuo is a lawless desert, but it’s also a place where Faunus aren’t discriminated against. The one Vacuoan Faunus we meet is totally disconnected from the struggles of the rest of the Faunus, and has to be educated about what “his people” go through on a regular basis before deciding to take up the cause.

Vacuo is America.

“Lawless Desert” is a pretty apt description of the entire Western genre, which is uniquely American concept. And the disconnect of the Vacuoan Faunus parallels the disconnect Irish Americans have from the struggles of the Irish. Irish Americans don’t face discrimination at all nowadays, they’re considered “white”. Bernadette Devlin, a major figure in the Northern Irish Civil Rights Movement, found she had more in common with African Americans than Irish Americans when she visited the United States.

As for the Gulliver parallels… well, the fourth place Gulliver ends up in is the Land of the Houyhnhnms, a race of talking sources who’s society Gulliver becomes enamoured with, to the point of being blind to it’s faults, like it’s mistreatment of the Yahoos, a race of human-looking animals. This doesn’t even change when they cast him out as danger to their society, and he grows to shun his own people and continue to talk to horses once he arrives back in England.

Swift meant this as parody of those who became enamoured with “exotic” countries, claiming them to be objectively better than their own, while being blind to the flaws of said nations.

Yeah, Jonathan Swift was dunking on Weeaboos back in 1726. Truly a man before his time.

I guess what this means is that while Vacuoan society is better in some respects than the rest of Remnant’s, it’ll still be worse in others, though our heroes will be attracted to it’s virtues.

Conclusion

So yeah. This is what I think of the Faunus Plotline. As an Irish person, I find it to be a great allegory for discrimination, because it parallels the situation my people have faced in the past. If you’re a person who hasn’t liked the Faunus Plotline so far, I hope this perspective/theory has helped or will help you enjoy the Faunus plot more. In the end, we all deserve to enjoy the stories we consume to the fullest possible extent.

So, thanks for coming to my TED Talk, next time I’ll be telling you guys why I think Remnant doesn’t use the Gregorian Calendar.

#rwby #faunus #irish politics #irish history #british history #gulliver's travels #little dash of #GUN Theory #rwby gun theory

498 notes · View notes

triple-a-enderdragon · 5 years ago

Link

Uh oh sisters, things are amping up!

First | Previous | Next

High above a little explored area far from the main island, False and Biffa glided toward the target location as Grian silently flew low to the ground. Without the need for noisy rockets, he could ghost over the treetops with nary a sound, keeping an eye out for anything out of place. Earlier, Grian had noticed he'd gained— along with his wings— better hearing and low-light vision; both of which helped him spot something amidst the foliage. Rolling over midair, he used the light undersides of his wings to flash a signal to the two Strikers flying above.

The three hermits landed in the treetops not far from where Grian spotted their target. He noted, amused, that Biffa had one of his axes already drawn. False had noticed this as well, and beckoned them both closer.

"Alright, it seems they've only gotten iron gear, so it's safe to say they haven't been here long," False whispered. "First order of business is to find their spawn. Grian? You up for the task?"

Grian looked at her, confused. "Shouldn't we see if they're hostile or not?"

False stared back. "No. If a fight breaks out, they die, then respawn, we will have to find them all over again. And they will know we're looking for them. So, you up for the task?"

"Uh, yeah. I can do that." Truth be told, Grian only agreed because he was worried Biffa would lose his patience and attack. So the winged man took off once more, now with a new target, leaving False and Biffa behind.

False looked at her frontline attacker, coiled up to strike, and said, "Remember, do not attack unless I signal it."

Biffa just glanced at her, making her a bit worried.

"Biffa."

"Right, right. I hear you. Wait for the signal."

That was the best she was going to get. So, making their way to the forest floor, False took point. When a flash of iron against the setting sun caught her attention, she signaled to Biffa to come up from behind; a flanking move, but one he should understand nonetheless. He wasn't as quiet as either flanker, but he was smart enough to time his movements with the sounds around him.

Now that Biffa was on his way, False made her presence known. Instantly, the intruder— a woman from what she could tell— pulled out a bow and leveled an arrow at False, who raised her hands in a peace gesture.

"I'm not sure if you noticed," False said, "but this world is taken."

The woman scoffed. "Yeah, by me. You best move on."

False was taken aback by this. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure I heard you correctly." She pulled her diamond sword out. "But I'm sure it's best if you move on."

The woman smirked. "Oh, you want to fight? You and what army?"

It was then False noticed the woman was looking behind her.

~~~

Back in Ren's base, Impulse was trying to contact Grian. Tango's message to Stress had gone through and she was on her way, but Grian wasn't answering and Impulse wasn't sure what to do.

"Tango?" he asked.

"Hm?"

"What happens if there are only three of you?"

That caught Tango's attention. "What do you mean?! Is he not answering?"

"No, but it's only been a few minutes." Impulse said.

"It's been more than ten! He should have noticed it by now!"

"It is getting late, maybe he—"

Impulse was interrupted by something hitting the floor. He and Tango turned to look at Ren, who'd knocked over a chair in his haste getting up.

"Ren? Something wrong?" asked Tango, uneasily. The look in Ren's eye was wild to say the least. His head snapped up at the sound of Tango's voice.

"Uh, yeah. Just gotta get out for a bit. Got really agitated— don't know why. See you." With that, Ren was out of the room.

"Agitated, huh? Hope it passes quickly," Impulse said.

Tango sighed. "I know how he feels. The past few days I've been on edge. Even accidentally set part of my base on fire before we came to see you."

Impulse started to say something, but was yet again interrupted, this time by Stress popping her head into the room.

"Oh! There you are. Took a while to find you in Ren's maze of a base. I tried to come as fast as possible, to avoid the stupid phantoms trying to eat me."

"Phantoms? Stress, when was the last time you slept?" Impulse asked.

"A few days ago, I've been too amped up lately. That's also when the itch started." She looked a little uneasy. "That's weird now that I think about it."

Tango looked pale. "An itch?"

~~~

/This whole thing is an absolute mess./

-Really? I believe they have a chance to get through this.-

/Says the one who entered at the last minute. You really threaded the needle there, finally choosing an avatar./

-You know I'm not one to rush into things, Earth! A delicate balance existed before Fire started his antics, only now can I step in.-

/If you had stepped in before, this might not have happened./

-You don't know that!-

\Is this what you dragged me here for? You two bickering? All this arguing affects our chosen, and they have enough to worry about as is. And Air, you waited even longer than I did.\

-Well, I'm sorry, Water, for waiting before I drastically alter someone's life....what do you mean, 'affected'?-

\You haven't noticed? Of course not.\

"Why was I dragged to this meeting? Nothing's getting done except finger-pointing."

/I cannot leave you, remember?/

"Yeah, well, this was pointless, so I'm taking you with me."

/Wait—/

~~~

In an instant, False was aware of two things; a presence behind her, and Biffa in the exact same position across the way.

So these people were hostile. Upside, Biffa wouldn't leave disappointed. Downside, now she couldn't tell Grian to destroy their beds. She couldn't even know if he'd found them. Things were getting interesting.

The woman looked at her with false concern. "What's the matter? don't think you can handle it? Going to go cry to mommy, hmm?"

"No, I'm just wondering why you haven't attacked yet." False felt a buzz from her communicator.

"I'm giving you the chance to leave and find your own world."

"Oh, that's a kind offer, but I'm afraid I can't take it." Another buzz.

"Fine." The woman gave a nod, and False could feel a blade prick the back of her neck. Fortunately for her, Biffa's response to her own signal was decidedly more violent.

In an instant, he was hacking his way through the woman's defenses and False was hardpressed to defend herself as well. Trading blows with the man behind her, she quickly broke down his fighting style. He was taking full advantage of his longsword, keeping her at a range her shorter blade lacked in. Nothing a bit of deft footwork couldn't change. False heard a sickening crunch from her left, signaling the end of Biffa's fight.

A parry and an overhand backhand sent the man's items flying, scattered by the intensity of the blow.

With both threats down, False was able to check her comms.

[Grian to: falsesymmetry, Biffa2001] I've found the beds. What do?

[Biffa2001 to: falsesymmetry, Grian] take em out

...

[Grian to: falsesymmetry, Biffa2001] theres another theres another

False looked up at Biffa, who had read the same message. Launching themselves into the sky, they were greeted by the last fleeting rays of the sun. Getting back to Grian had become a race against time.

~~~

Impulse was on his way back to Xisuma's base. At this point, he'd spent little time elsewhere; keeping the world sufficiently monitored was more time consuming than he'd expected. On the flight over, he and False had had a short but fervent conversation.

[falsesymmetry to: ImpulseSV] Grian's with me, needed him for something.

[ImpulseSV to: falsesymmetry] Did something happen?

[falsesymmetry to: ImpulseSV] Intruders, but we're taking care of it.

[ImpulseSV to: falsesymmetry] When you're done, sent him to Tango's base

[falsesymmetry to: ImpulseSV] Will do.

Flying into X's base, he almost missed a strange build in the dimming light. Impulse was not keen on approaching the build, all too aware of any deathly possibilities, but he was compelled to.

It was an altar, that much was clear. Shaped like a compass rose, each point had a symbol embossed on the surface. Water to the north, air to the east, fire to the south, and earth to the west. The Four Cardinal Directions, the Four Elements.

Four of his friends.

Impulse shook himself out of the daze. This could wait, it was fairly obvious what it would be for.

He headed for the control room, the deep ache in his body keeping him aware of the late hour. He never should have left. Between now and the time he'd left for Ren's base a few hours ago, an intruder had wormed their way in. He was grateful for False's swift reaction to the problem; if she had waited for him, it would have been much more difficult to deal with. Especially down two Strikers.

Thrown off by his exhaustion, Impulse was violently reminded of the two hermits trapped in the Nether. Utterly frustrated and overwhelmed, he started crying. Tango had said he was livid with what was happening, and Impulse was starting to feel the same way.

Take a deep breath. Calm down. He could not fall apart; a plan was in place. Tomorrow, Tango would do what he needed to do, and everything would go back to normal. Hopefully.

Now calmer, Impulse walked to the middle of X's base, the dying light making the altar more sinister than he thought necessary. He took off, heading towards his own base. In less than a day's time, he would be back here and it would all be over, one way or another.

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft au #time to strike back #ttsb #chapter 7 #chapter seven #it's all a race against time #biffa2001 #falsesymmetry #grian #rendog #impulse #tangotek #stressmonster #tinfoilchef #tfc #act 1 #act one

6 notes · View notes

bleached-d-soul · 6 years ago

Text

Bad Gone Worse

The 30$ commission for @the-wayward-arc. If you wish to see a story written by me for you, be sure to contact me for details!

____________________________________________________________

When you are a kid, gettin called to the principal's office could have meant a lot of things. Detention, expulsion, award, praise, and many things in between. But it was almost universal for all the students to experience this growing sense of dread as they stepped inside the room and were asked to sit down.

And although Jaune was a teacher himself, the same heavy feeling remained at the pit of his stomach.

"Jaune, do you have any idea how much trouble you are in?"

Mr. Alabaster, or Alan as he asked everyone to call him, wasn't what Jaune would call your typical principal of a prestigious academy. Where you'd expect the man commanding respect and authority, the elderly headmaster was rather soft-spoken and nonconfrontational man. Though, Jaune figured, it came with the territory of being in charge of the school as prestigious as this one.

You had your usual elite schools and then you had Atlas Academy. The place was the school for the highest of the elites, compared to which the other fancy places might as well have been inner city. Politicians, celebrities, business titans and tycoons all had their kids enrolled in this place. And, needless to say, everyone, his present company included, was intimidated with the sheer power some of the students wielded here.

"Alan, I-"The man silenced him with a raised hand, eyes and voice tired. Judging by a small glass of expensive whiskey by his side, the man had already had his ears told off. The man offered Jaune a glass of his own and he accepted it. He never liked alcohol much, but the situation seemed appropriate for it. With both glasses empty and the tension in the air a little bit thinner, Jaune began to speak.

He told Alan of the circumstances which led to the incident. How one of his students, Oscar Pine, had approached him about the multiple instances of bullying. Without much investigation, Jaune determined that it was at the hands of his classmate, Cardin Winchester. Jaune wanted to resolve it as peacefully as possible. He had to make it clear that bullying would have consequences. And, for a while, it seemed that Winchester actually understood that. Bullying stopped and Oscar seemed to act just a little bit less anxious.

But as it turned out, all of that was just leading to the punchline of a very cruel joke.

Jaune sighed as he recalled the events of weekend's trip to the Emerald Woods. The massive and thick forest was a frequent site for the locals. Nice thick woods with a giant lake full of things for young men and women to enjoy. They were supposed to stay there till Monday, but circumstances didn't allow for that. It happened so fast. A peaceful day relaxing near the lake was interrupted with the cry for help. Oscar was drowning, begging for someone to save him.

Jaune wished he could say it all ended after he pulled Oscar out, but he couldn't. The danger passed but the question of circumstances leading up to the incident remained. So Jaune demanded to know what Oscar was doing in the middle of the lake. Especially after he spent the whole time staying away from water.

Unsure and doubtful, the boy pointed at Cardin. And as the boy described how he had been grabbed and thrown into the lake, the bigger guy didn't even try to deny it. Once the truth was delivered, Jaune turned to Cardin, expecting... Y'know, something. An apology or at least some show of regret. Instead, the bully just scoffed and gave Oscar a wolfish grin:

"The day ain't over," Jaune stood in shock as Cardin cracked his knuckles. "Plenty of chances to get the job done."

The next few minutes were a blur. All Jaune can remember is how he was on top of Cardin, his fists slamming into the bastard's face with all the viciousness he didn't know he had. Then he was being pulled off by the students. And the next thing he knew, he was taken by the police. He only got out today and the first thing he got this morning was a message from Alan, which brings him back to now.

The elder man sat silent before downing another glass. As he offered Jaune a second one, he could faintly hear the principal softly curse under his breath.

Jaune chuckled at that, albeit humorlessly. His situation was, to put it lightly, was shit. He knew he had done the right thing. But right or wrong, it mattered little when you assaulted a minor. In the eyes of the law, everything was painfully simple: A teacher assaulted a student. A student with quite rich and influential parents, who had their own powerful friends. Jaune was still surprised they hadn't pressed charges against him yet.

"This is very serious, Jaune," the man sighed. "You know that, as teachers, we must never lay a hand on a student. Especially in this place!"

Not when the parents of students could squash you like a bug. He knew that, "I remember the guidelines, sir," Jaune said with a bit more bite than he intended. He apologized, quickly reminding himself that the principal wasn't at fault. Bigger men than him would be cowed under the pressure this place had. Still, it didn't make him hate the situation any less. "I just don't think that Winchester deserves to be let off that easily after endangering another student's life. He must learn that there are consequences."

Oscar was a good kid. A talented young man, wise beyond his ears. He was honest and cared for others. Wasn't this the kind of people they wanted the future leaders to be? Wasn't it the reason why Jaune became the teacher in the first place? If not any of those things, then what did he work so hard for?

After a few minutes of silence, Jaune decided to cut the chase. He knew, from the very first night in the slammer, that he wouldn't be defending his case today. He knew that the reason why the principal invited him was not to hear his side of the story.

"I suppose my resignation is already filled in, huh?" Jaune chuckled as the man placed the form before him. A simple piece of paper, but it meant giving up on teaching here. The place had it fair share of spoiled brats, but there were just as many good kids as well. Pyrrha, Velvet, Ren, Ruby, Oscar and so many more of the people he would never see after signing it.

But what else could he do?

"It's not as bad as it might seem, Jaune," Alan said. He actually sounded like he believed it. "Many of your students were ready to back you up if needed. They respect you, something you should be proud of. To have your students respect you... Most of us never achieve that in our entire careers. But unfortunately, Winchesters are petty and prideful. Even if your students testified against Cardin Winchester, his family would make sure to ruin you otherwise. If you resign, they agreed to let the issue go, with their signatures and all."

And didn't that sound just generous, Jaune frowned. He could have done something about it. Go to social media and expose Winchesters for what their son and, by extension, their entire family was. Jaune doubted he could actually win against them, not when Winchester Network pretty much ran the news. He could hurt them. He could get people to criticize them or even call for Cardin's expulsion.

But in the end, it didn't matter. The daily life was filled with so many controversies and scandals that his would be forgotten within a week. That is, if Winchesters didn't use their PR team to spin the tale and paint him as a deranged child abuser. With a final stroke of his pen, Jaune handed in his resignation form and extended his hand, "Thank you for everything, sir. I am sorry for causing you so much trouble."

"Don't apologize. You did the right thing, Jaune," the man smiled sadly. "I just wish we all could do the right thing as well."

BGW

"I am sorry, but we don't think you'd be a good fit."

"You lack experience."

"There are no available positions right now."

And countless variations of the same rejection were all that Jaune thought about these days. He tried at every school he could find but was met with rejection every single time. Was he really that inexperienced ot inadequate that he couldn't teach at any school in this area? A small part of him hissed that it had to be the work of Winchesters. Saying they wouldn't do anything was one thing. But honoring that agreement was another.

Jaune sighed in exhaustion as he fell on the couch in his new apartment. Smaller but cheaper, the only thing he could afford right now without proper job on hand. Was it how his teaching career ended? Over not even two years in because he wanted to do the right thing? Was it universe telling him that he should search for his calling somewhere else?

He could always try and find a job at some company. He could learn how to do the job there and it would pay his bills better than the odd jobs he'd taken up in time not spent getting rejected. All he needed to do was to give up on his dream. After all, who needed teaching anyway? It was hard job with zero respect for it. Unless you mentored the next Nobel Prize winner, who'd care about you? Who needed the job where, for all the time anf effort you put, people would always look down on you because of different paychecks. Who needed any of that? Who wanted any of it?

Jaune did.

And no matter how much he might have hated some parts of the job like grading exams or assigning detention, he just couldn't imagine himself doing anything else. He wanted to be a teacher. It wasn't just the job for him, but rather his passion. He wanted to share his experiences with the younger generation and make an impact in their lives.

That was what being a teacher meant to him.

But he could get back on track? Should he change his name? Maybe change his hair and wear glasses? He could always try and look for the job in another state. Yes... He could do the last one. Winchesters might have been powerful but there had to be a limit to even their reach. And once he found it, he could go back to doing his job. Yes, all he needed to do was just hold on a little longer.

He would find a new job. And then he would forget all about this black line in his life.

All he needed was...

A phone call.

"Huh?" Jaune picked up his phone, confused by the unknown number. Let alone at this hour. "Hello?"

"Mr. Arc," not a question. A statement. Done in the voice and tone that sent shivers down his spine. "My name is Cinder Fall, I am calling you on behalf of Grimm Academy. Are you free to speak to right now?"

"Of course," Jaune answered, sounding a bit more eager (and desperate) than he wished to. "I am free to speak."

"Your resume has impressed our Headmaster, and she wanted me to conduct an additional interview with you. Will you be available this Monday, 8 AM?"

"I can there at 7," he joked, feeling relieved at the invitation. When the woman on the other end didn't laugh, he coughed awkwardly, "I mean, I will be there on time."

As he wrote down the address and her contact number, Jaune felt the confidence return to him. He reminded himself not to get too full of it quite quickly. The others also invited him for an interview only to turn him down there and then or, in some cases, by a phone call. The job at Grimm Academy might be his last shot at teaching without moving somewhere far away and he was sure not going to waste it.

Even if he didn't quite remember applying for it.

"Must be all the stress from job searching," Jaune reasoned with a deep sigh. There was no way the school would contact him if he didn't apply. And anyhow, he didn't have time to check if he did. He had the whole weekend of preparing for the interview. Whoever this Cinder was, she sounded like someone who would judge him from the very moment she saw him.

He had to make sure that interview went perfectly.

No doubts. No distractions.

BGW

The place was full of distractions.

Jaune buried his face in his phone, trying very hard not to look at any of the girls passing through the hall. Which wouldn't be much of a problem if every single one of them didn't look like the most gorgeous person he'd ever seen. Jaune was proud to say that, in all his years working as a teacher, he never looked at his students like that. He loved them, but in the same way he felt about his sisters.

Never more than that.

The girls here were different. Not just in the way they looked, but they way they carried themselves. There was something powerful - something dangerous - about each girl who passed him by. And by Gods, he could feel their eyes on him. Some were amused. Some were indifferent. Some judged him. Some looked at him like a prey - a lamb to the slaughter.

Maybe he was better off leaving?

"Mr. Arc. Punctual, I see."

Too late. He couldn't run now.

"Miss Fall," Jaune smiled, doing his best to look confident. "Pleasure to meet you."

And he wasn't lying. From the voice, Jaune knew that the woman was young, hardly older than him anyway. But he didn't expect the woman to look like this. Long silky black hair, the skin that seemed so smooth and pure of any flaws, the hourglass figure hugged tightly by her suit. But above it all, her eyes were the true focus of his attention. Full of the cold fire and burning ambition, even from behind her glasses, those eyes seemed to peer deep into his soul.

And she didn't seem impressed.

"Pleasure is all mine," the woman said, not sounding particularly sincere. "Shall we go to my office?"

He nodded and followed silently, not daring to speak lest he says something wrong and gets in trouble. As they walked towards her office, Cinder decided to give him a brief tour and history of the Grimm Academy. And Jaune found himself more and more surprised by how rich the school's history was despite how he found nothing about it on the Internet the night before.

It was an all-girls boarding school. And, similarly to Atlas, it was the school for the society's elite. The daughters of the rich and powerful. He was surprised by that, seeing how little resemblance there was to the students back at his old school. And how high the truancy and delinquency were here. You'd think that the kids at such elite school would be more concerned with keeping up reputation and whatnot.

"Now, let's begin the interview."

Jaune took a deep breath and relaxed himself. The questions were, surprisingly, ordinary. Where did he study? Beacon University. What classes had he taught priorly? Literature and Drama. Why did he want the job? He chose to omit the fact that he wasn't being hired by anyone else. The interview went on like this for good fifteen minutes before Cinder made the last mark on her checklist.

Taking her glasses off, the woman stared into his eyes long and hard. The brief few seconds the eye contact lasted seemed to stretch into hours of her searching his very soul for something. A flaw. A leverage. A weakness to exploit.

"One last question, Mr. Arc," the brunette finally said. "How good are you with women?"

What?

"What?" he said out loud. "W-What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said," Cinder smiled. A smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "How well are you with women?

Jaune sat silent, waiting for Cinder to tell him it was some joke. When she didn't, he wrecked his brain, looking for a way to answer that question without sounding like a pig of some sort of sexual predator. "I-I would say I am quite good at that. I grew up with seven sisters so I know a lot about most of the stuff girls have to go through today. I am also a pretty good listener so I would say I am pretty good with women."

Cinder looked him up and down, eyes again searching for something. Something he didn't quite understand. And, judging by the way her lips curled into a small smile, she found exactly what she was looking for.

Though Jaune's wasn't sure whether it was a good thing or not.

"Congratulations, Jaune," the woman smiled, this time with her eyes as well. "You are officially hired. Welcome to Grimm Academy."

He let out a sigh he didn't know he was holding back. "Thank you so much, Miss Fall. You won't regret it, I assure you," he said. Quickly though, he decided to ask the question of his own. "If it is not a secret though, why did you ask the last question?"

"You may call me Cinder. As for your question," Cinder smiled, this time her smile much more mischievous and amused. A smile that a villain had when the heroes fell right into their trap. "Tell me, Jaune, what do you know about our school?"

He raised an eyebrow in confusion, reciting the information Cinder gave him along with what little pieces he found on the Internet. An elite school. High salary. Away from the big city. Cinder seemed amused by it so he asked, "Is there something that I missed?"

"You are quite correct, Jaune. But you did miss one thing. There are countless boarding schools for society's elite, but only Grimm Academy provides the parents with what they are seeking. Do you have any idea what that is?" he stood silent. Cinder answered for him, "It is secrecy."

"Secrecy? Like from paparazzi?" It would make sense. The school was pretty secluded in this area, guarded by walls and some very intimidating-looking guards. One of the bigger challenges was keeping media away from them. Somehow though, the extent to which they went didn't fit in with that thought. "I am missing something, aren't I?"

"Not exactly. You see, Jaune, Atlas, Vae and Mistral are the kinds of schools the elite send their kids to uphold family honor and reputation. Those who graduate from there will enjoy all the positive presumptions that come with the diploma of the school," the brunette smiled. "Grimm is the other side of the coin. We do not Parents send their kids here to preserve what honor and status they have. We are the school where parents send rebellious and disobedient girls to make sure they don't hurt their reputations. In short, we are-"

"The delinquent school," Jaune whispered in shock. That explained the attitudes and the general atmoesphere in this place. "All the girls here are delinquents..."

Delinquents with money, power and connections, Delinquents who could squash him on a whim.

"They might be very handful," Cinder smiled. This time, her smile spoke of all the pleasure she took in his horror. "They have gone through quite a lot of teachers before you. Which is why I am looking forward to working with you."

Her eyes flared dangerously. Hungrily.

"For however long you may last."

BGW

"Alright, settle down, class," Miss Fall said with the voice that accepted no disobedience. "Let me introduce you to our new Literature teacher, Jaune Arc. Please, make sure he feels welcome here."

While Jaune didn't expect any actual warmth in welcome, he at least counted on a few complimentary claps. No such thing, apparently, as the gathered girls simple sat silent, either staring at him or busy with their own things.

"Well, my job here is done," Cinder said as she left the class, "Don't eat him too fast, girls."

Jaune honestly didn't doubt that they could. After a moment of awkward and defeaning silence, Jaune said, "Alright class, I know, the Fall Semester just started and you already have a new teacher. So how about we use today's class to get to know each other better? Back in my last school, we had this game which really helped in this. So, who is up to play?"

The girls gave him a collective look, some annoyed, some apathetic and some actually interested. Not good kind of interested, however. Rather, it was the same interest one watched a person fall down the stairs. Then, as if connected in a single hivemind, the girls exchanged glances and the identical smirk spread on their lips. This didn't seem good. One of the girls, with short brown hair and fox-like grin, raised her hand and spoke, "Cool, we'll play. What are the rules?"

His instincts told him to forget the game and run. To get his things in the car and get the fuck away from this place. Then again, if he was the type to listen to his instincts, then he wouldn't be in this mess in the first place. He was in too deep now. He couldn't just run away. He had to push through this class and establish himself as a trustworthy and open teacher.

And hey, just how bad could this backfire on him?

"Well, the rules are pretty simple. You say your name and tell a fact about yourself. Something fun that could let us know each other better. And in exchange, you may ask me a question to which I must answer," Jaune smiled, seeing that some of the girls perked up at the idea. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. "Of course, whether the answer or the fact are true ot force depends on both of us. But I really would like if we spoke only the truth here. Any questions? No? Then let's begin."

A couple of hands rose. The girls here seemed more open about this kind of stuff. He could still remember how awkward the kids back in Atlas were around him when he suggested this game. Poor Ruby quite literally froze when he picked her to answer.

"You," he pointed at one of the twins, the girl with a red feather in her headband. The girl stood from her seat and smiled charmingly. "Your name is...?"

"Miltia Malachite," the girl curtsied, getting a few laughs from the class. Ah, nothing like good friendly ribbing. "The fact about me is that I really like submissive guys. I enjoy making the guys moan and cry and beg for a sweet relief. So are you Dom or Sub, Mr. Arc?"

He choked on his spit as his brain processed the question. For a brief moment, he wondered if it was his ears playing with him. Surely, a student couldn't ask her teacher such question in broad daylight in front of her classmates, right? Right? However, as he looked at the room, he saw neither surprise nor shock, only the growing amusement the girls had at his expense. All eyes on him, Jaune couldn't help but feel naked. Naked... Along with the classroom full off such attractive young women... "Shit, stay down, boy! Now is not the time...!"

"I guess I am neither?" Jaune managed to blurt out awkwardly. "I-I mean, uh... Next question, please?"

More hands were now up in the air. And now they didn't seem that innocent. Or harmless. Still, he had to continue. Eyes searched through the classroom, Jaune purposedly ignoring Miltia and her sister. After a couple of minutes, his eyes landed on the girl with bright orange twintails with neon blue highlights, "How about you?"

"Hi, my name is Neon! And I like partying, the harder and longer the better" the girl grinned cheekily, fully aware of the words she had just used. "What about you, teach? You like partying long and hard?"

Shit, was everyone's mind in the gutter here?

"Sure," he did his best at hiding any embarrassment as he answered. "I am not much for raves but hey, if the party is decent enough, I will surely join in!

"Even orgies?"

Jesus Christ!

"Next question, please!" Jaune begged not so subtly.

More than the half of the hands stood proud and eager, no doubt waiting to ask him their own embarrassing question. He knew that whoever he asked next would pull the same stunt. The best he could do right now was minimize the damage. Eyes desperately scanned the room, looking for someone innocent. Or the closest thing to innocent among the girls here.

Finally, he saw the small girl with hair of pink and brown. She looked innocent enough. "You. Yes, your question?"

The whole room fell disturbingly quiet. The air suddenly felt heavier and colder. Some girls even gave him sympathetic and pitiful looks. The girl stood up from her seat and walked over to him. And with each tiny slow step she took, her smile grew wider and bigger, filling him with dread. As the tiny girl stood in front of him, Jaune felt infinitely smaller than anyone here.

She started typing something on her phone. A second later, female monotone spoke, "Hi, my name is Neo...," Jaune stood in surprise as he listened. Was she mute or just shy? Probably mute. No way a shy girl would get that kind of reaction out of her classmates. "I love ice cream, clothes, knives and night city life. Now for my question, Mr. Arc..."

Her grin turned devilish.

"How big is your dick?"

Jaune groaned in frustration as some of the girls whistled and laughed, "It is average, Neo. Now go back to your seat." It was clear that his game didn't work. He'd need another way of breaking the ice with the girls here if he wanted to have a proper influence on their lives. Preferrably, one without such exploitable rules. "Now let's change the-

"You mind if I check for myself?"

The voice came out of nowhere. Was it Neo's? He turned around fast, but not fast enough. Just as he was about to say something, Neo was behind him, her hands firmly on his belt. The shock - the sheer disbelief at what was happening to him right now - stalled him enough for the girl to unbuckle his belt and, in one swift motion, pull his pants along with his underwear down to his knees.

In that moment, Jaune's entire brain just froze as he started to think over where his life had gone so wrong. Or how much worse it could become now. Nobody would care if he was pantsed by the girl. Hell, he would be lucky if anyone actually believe that the girl half his size managed to to do it without him noticing. One call... It would take one damn call and he would be led out in handcuffs before locked away for God knows how long.

His life... was over.

"E-Excuse me," Jaune choked out as he shakily pulled his pants up. The bell rang but none of the girls moved from their seats. Figures, they were probably wondering when he would run. Well, he wouldn't give them the satisfaction! "Time for lunch so... Have a nice meal."

He kept his face as straight as he could as he watched the girls slowly leave. Once he was all alone in the class, he let the mask slip and shatter as he felt his spirits crashing down. Feeling like he would collapse any second, Jaune went to the teacher's lounge. There was no point in waiting for the next period. The girls no doubt had already called the police on him. If he was going to be taken by them, he might as well have some nice rest. One final power nap before being locked up in a cell in shame and humiliation.

Coming here... was the biggest mistake of his life.

BWG

There were many things Vernal disliked. Rules, authority figures, that Yang bitch who thought she was some tough shit, the list went on and on, being extended every time Vernal found something new to feel angry or pissed about. But the top spot on that damned list could only belong to one thing and one thing only.

Boredom.

It was just a tough fucking luck that she ended up here in the first place. She had a great thing going on before. With her mom, one of the biggest punk rock stars, she has been free for most of her life. Mom drank, took drugs and slept around, never listening to anyone or anything. And, by extension, Vernal was free to do the same. It was a good life. Freedom and hedonism incarnate.

But then he came along and had to ruin everything. That man - that fucking snake - invaded their lives and talked her mom into placing her in this damned school to try and reform her. Said that she had to do better. Be better. Fucking asshole, who was he to talk to her like that when he was just a lawyer? Hell, her mother's scandals were pretty much why dickbags like were needed in the first place.

Needless to say, she used any and every opportunity to stir up some trouble if only to annoy that old fart and show him he couldn't control her. Unfortunately, none of that went as viral as she could hope, seeing that the bitch that ran the place had vice grip on what made its way out of here. And in her free time? Vernal was just looking for something to entertain herself with.

"Holy shit, did you see the size of it?"

"How the fuck is he walking straight with that thing between his legs?"

And it seemed she found herself something new. Vernal was no virgin, of course. One of the first things she chose to do to piss off her dad was getting fucked as soon as she could by the first guy she found. Said guy was all that her dad hated about guys: loud, rude and one leg in a juvie. Needless to say, the guy turned out to be just talk and nothing more than that.

The guy was loud, quick and weak. It didn't help that he thought her choosing him made them an item. As if. Even if she was looking for some long-term thing, it wouldn't be with some toothpick.

Especially now that she had found herself a nice meat rod around this place.

When she first heard they were getting a new teach, Vernal wasn't all that excited, just like the rest of their class. They had gone though so many of them that it wasn't fun anymore. Ignore them. Sit in your phone. Or play the same game they did with the blondie. Eventually, they all quit and ran in tears. But it got boring and old really fucking fast. So when the fresh meat walked in, she gave him around a month before he ran home.

Then Neo showed that nine inch long four inch thick meat popsicle. And now Vernal planned to make sure he stayed around. She was just getting tired of all the toys she managed to sneak in. Plus, the guy looked like a total wuss. She could have him as her personal dildo with legs without any mushy stuff. Which is why he needed to stay. It wouldn't be any good if she lost such catch.

"You think we should gang up on him?" Melanie suggested, licking her lips in anticipation. "I mean, everyone loves twins~"

"Oh, we definitely should," Miltia agreed and did the same, clearly imagining being rammed in by that thick cock. "But how do we do that? The guy seemed really shaken up. No surprise if he runs off the moment the class is over."

It was a problem, Vernal mused to herself. For a guy that big, this Jaune certainly lacked the confidence or any self-esteem. He seemed idealistic, which was dumb, and honest, even dumber. Not someone she was looking to hook up with for something serious. She needed a real man. The kind who knew how to do things right and kept his head high.

Then again, she wasn't looking for anything more than a living dildo right now. Now, all she needed to do was claim him first.

"Think we should wear matching panties?"

"How about none at all?"

And that meant making sure the twins didn't even come near him anytime soon.

"Eh, I don't think he would go for that," Vernal said simply, putting just enough disinterest to make it seem like a random comment instead of planned one. She sat silent for a few moments before she 'noticed' the twins were waiting for her explanation. "I mean, have you seen that guy? Hell, have you heard the guy? He looks like he wouldn't kiss you till your third date or something. I doubt he'd have the balls to fuck any of his students."

All true, if anyone asked. But to Vernal, it didn't matter if he had balls for it or not. She would get that dick for herself regardless of that.

"So what do you think we should do?" Miltia asked annoyed. "Sing him a serenade or some shit?"

"I think you should start slow," Vernal smirked at how the girls seemed to eat it up. Yes, getting fucked by that log would be nice. But doing so while leading the others on a wild goose chase would make it even better. Like eating the last dessert after telling the girls they were out. "Apologize for those questions and play perfect little students this guy dreams about. Turn in your homework in time. Show eagerness to learn and shit like that. I bet he'd fall in love with you in a month or so. And then you could have your way with him."

When Vernal got up from her seat, the twins were still in deep thought. Could they really wait for months until they got that thing inside of them? Was it worth the wait or holding out? In the end, it didn't matter to Vernal.

Because she was planning to stake her claim tonight.

BGW

"Is that what's bothering you, Jaune?"

He sighed as he took a cup of coffee from Cinder. He couldn't keep silent and confessed. Surprisingly though, Cinder offered to listen to his side of the story and, if possible help him out. So he talked and now he waited for her to say what he could do.

"I think you should show them you are not to be messed with," Cinder said, without a hint of joke or sarcasm. "The girls here are as problematic as they come. Soft approach will not work with them. Trust me. many have tried and failed. The only way to succeed here is to be ruthless."

Ruthless? But he was nothing like that. "And how can I do that?"

"Try it on me," Cinder suggested, a strange fire dancing in her eyes. "Give me an order."

An order? "Uh... Raise your hand?"

She rolled her eyes, "Seriously?"

"Sorry, never tried that before," he took a deep breath and focused. "Cinder, raise your hand."

She smiled.

"No."

What?

"And what are you going to do about it?" she asked, getting closer. Her soft silky breath tickling his neck. "What are you going to do now that I have defied you, Jaune? Will you back down and surrender? Or will you push through and conquer those that disobey?"

"Conquet," he whispered, inching closer to her. "I will make them listen."

"I don't hear the confidence, Jaune," she pressed herself against him. Her body was hot, his own heating up. "Show me how you will do it. Show me how you will dominate those girls!"

Everything happened in a blur. Her clothes were torn off and thrown away into the corner. Like a wild animal, Jaune descended upon Cinder, attacking her neck with his mouth. Biting into her soft smooth skin felt intoxicating, but not as mindblowing as was locking tongue and lips with her. His hands were left free to explore every inch of her body. Her supple breasts, her toned and firm ass, her drenched and dripping pussy.

He was surprised when she pushed him onto the sofa. Eyes burning like that of a predator, Cinder licked her lips before mounting him. He watched her push herself down his cock, the soft and heated moans escaping her lips. Very soon, she was thrusting herself up and down his cock with wild fevor.

"Oh yes! Oh yeah, just like that! Don't you dare stop! Keep going!"

Jaune grunted and moaned as Cinder rode him like there was no tomorrow. Her toned ass slapped against his crotch, the sound of their unrestrained sex filling the whole room. The tight walls of her pussy burned like wild fire, her hissed pleas and challenging to fuck her even harder making it impossible to hold on for long. After what must have been an hour of constant fucking, Jaune felt his cock throb.

"Cinder, I am going to-"

He was close. So close. Any second now he would-

"Wake up!"

A harsh slap and Jaune was back to reality. Vision fuzzy and head slightly ringing from the sheer force behind it, Jaune forced himself to look at the person in front of him. It was Cinder, but not as naked or horny as in his dream. Dreams... Oh Gods, he wasn't talking in his sleep, right? "Uh... Hello? Is everything okay?"

Amber eyes narrowed, "Okay? No, everything is not okay. Do you have any idea what you've done?"

What he has... Oh right. Guess it was time to face the music. The police was probably waiting outside for him. Might as wellleave with as much dignity as he could. But not before saying his piece, "It was an honor working here. I really wish you the best of luck in the future."

Cinder looked confused for a second before scoffing, "Oh please, don't be so dramatic, Mr. Arc. You wouldn't be fired over such small thing. Honestly, it used to happen to me a lot as well."

W-What? Jaune looked at Cinder, for a brief moment imagining her without her skirt and panties, standing in front of the whole class. Damn it, not now, libido! "What do you mean?"

"Teaching by its nature is not an easy job. You try to give each and every student as much focus and effort as possible, but even then some slip through your fingers. The mental strain that comes from trying to get and keep them interested in the class is nothing to laugh at either. And the girls here can be particularly exhausting with some of their antics. Plus, I am aware of how the circumstances of your resignation took tool on you," Cinder nodded in understanding. "So it's natural you fell alseep in here. It happens to the best of us as well."

Fell... asleep? Did that mean she didn't know about him getting exposed to the whole class? Wait, the girls had an entire lunch period to tell someone or post about it on social media. And if they didn't, did that mean they had no intention of doing so? But why? They didn't seem to particularly like him, so wouldn't getting rid of him one of their main priorities right now?

Guess he only could find out for himself.

"Yeah," he said, feeling much less weight on his shoulders. "Sorry about causing trouble, Cinder."

"No problem," she smiled candidly. "But do keep in mind: this was your first, last and only warning," the warmth left her voice, eyes drilling into him without mercy. "While I may understand your situation, it is no excuse to slack off here. You've been given an opportunity to be an educator once again. Make sure to not waste it."

He felt like he had done that already.

BGW

Jaune was not a pervert. Sure, like pretty much all the guys he knew, he watched some porn. And yes, he did have a dirty fantasy about a girl or two he had known. But he was not a pervert.

So was it him or were the girls in his class acting sexy all of a sudden?

"So when the protagonist chooses to sacrifice himself, is he truly being selfless?" Jaune talked, hoping the lecture would distract him. That he would get so swallowed up in one of his favorite stories by Ozma Oum. Didn't work. He gulped as his eyes stayed on girls a little longer than he would feel comfortable telling anyone about. Did they always keep four buttons loose? And was it him or did some of the girls wear shorter skirts than before?

"Keep in mind that, at this point, he has lost his allies and home. His name is stained and the world is against him. So is his sacrifice final act of his selfless life or is he just putting an end to his life in the only way he knows he will gain recognition?"

He looked away and up from their blouses and skirts. From their exposed cleavages and thighs. He would focus on their faces. That's right! If he kept his eyes on their faces, there was nothing suggestive that he could find. Just focus on their eyes. And mouths... Sucking and chewing on the pencils and pens.

"Mr. Arc?" one of the twins, Melanie, asked in concern. A genuine, which was even more surprising. "Are you okay? Do you need a glass of water or something?" Her sister nodded, which was strange. Good kind of strange though. The girls acted different from how they acted before, which should have worried him but didn't. "We could bring some medicine if you want."

"N-No, thank you though," he smiled. "Really, thanks."

The bell rang. The class came to an end. And so did the torture and testing of his limits. "For your homework, try to analyze the ending of the book and come up with your stance on the main characters' fates. No need to write anything but be prepared for very intense discussion."

The class dispersed, though not without some of the girls swaying their hips on the way out. He paid that no mind, instead focusing on getting his things and going back home as soon as he could. He was just about to leave when someone tapped him on his shoulder. It was the same girl who asked him about the rules of the game he tried having this morning.

Vernal Wennbar if he remembered right.

"How may I help you, Vernal?"

The girl massaged her neck awkwardly, the look that clashed with the rough appearance she had. Maybe he was just assuming? "I was just having some trouble with the material, sir. I mean, I can understand what the book is all about but it is really hard for me to express it in words. And we have the paper to write on it so I wanted to ask if you could, y'know, tutor me on it a bit?"

Jaune wanted to say "No", if only because he hardly had any strength left with all the stress of the day. But one look into Vernal's honest pleading eyes... How could he, as a teacher, refuse his student the help in improving herself? It was always hard to ask someone for help with the schoolwork. Let alone your own teacher, ironically enough. Which is, why, ignoring a very bad feeling in his stomach, Jaune agreed.

BGW

"Well, here we are. Welcome to my place."

Vernal smiled politely as she entered the dump he called home. It wasn't small, but it wasn't exactly the kind of places people like her were used to. Not that Vernal complained. She wasn't like Weiss or Coco or any other one of those bitches. She knew what she came here for wasn't his apartment or some other shiny stuff. Vernal was here to get means of getting regularly laid.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

"Alright, let's start."

Even if that meant listening to his annoying drivel. He was passionate about the book, at least. Without his notice, she carefully added a couple of drops of the special mixture into his water. Nothing that would hinder his ability to satisfy her. Just a little of help to rip his inhibitions apart. The blondie was so into teaching her that he never realized what was happening.

Good. Just as she liked it.

He was excited enough to talk and help her through all the stuff she presumably didn't understand or struggled with. Passionate enough to miss her turn on the phone and place it on the table. Excited enough to miss her get closer to him until it was too late. She watched his face grow hot and his eyes stay on her cleavage and legs just a tiny little bit longer before he hurriedly turned them away.

Impressively enough, he actually managed to keep himself in control for almost two hours. Two hours too long before she finally decided waiting was no longer an option. If she were to seize control of him, she had to do it now.

"Vernal? Is everything okay? Why are you loo-"

She smashed her lips against his. Her tongue pushed past his lips till it managed to reach his own. He was slow and passive, too shocked to properly react. Vernal smirked to herself, enjoying the moment to seize as much control as possible. Without much carem she pinned him to the floor and began removing her clothing. The sight of her naked tanned skin seemed to shake the teacher out of his shock.

"S-Stop!" he pushed her back, not enough to push her off the top of him though. "W-What... What was that?"

"A kiss," her frowned. "What, don't tell me you never kissed a girl before. Or were you saving it for the marriage?"

"I am serious," Jaune glared. He managed to slip from under her. Clearly pissed off, he started gathering her things. "Seriously, I think that the day couldn't get any crazier and then you decide to do this. Damn it, why couldn't it be just a normal school?"

A normal school, huh? She wished it was like that too. In normal high school, she could just bribe a teacher to let her skip class or whatever. Plus, she could cause much more trouble and piss off that bastard even more. Yeah... Going to a regular high school would be a bliss.

"Seriously," Jaune scoffed as he handed her all the stuff she brought. "I understand that you are young and think it was funny. But trust me, at some point you will have stop with pranks like this. If you keep acting like that, you will only get yourself in unnecessary trouble."

Vernal felt the hand grip her heart. Cold, ugly and deformed hand was wrapped around her heart so tight she could barely breathe as she looked at Jaune. His eyes, so lost and awkward before, were now similar to the eyes that man had. Similar in all the ways that pissed her off.

"What kind of child are you? Do you have any idea how much trouble you have caused me and your mother? If you don't stop fooling around, you will never be anything more than a troublemaker."

Nothing more than a troublemaker, huh? Fine by her.

"Y'know, teach," Vernal said, dropping all that innocent girl facade. "You shouldn't talk about being responsible and shit like that... Not when you have been nothing but a naughty little pervert yourself."

Before he could even ask, Vernal showed him the picture she took with her phone. It was shaky and somewhat blurry around the edges, but it painted a very juicy picture. A student with only her shirt on her back and the teacher with his hands all over her. Their lips locked. Their eyes closed. And both looking to be enjoying their state. A picture could say a thousand words, indeed.

"Combine that with girls' testimonials of you flashing them today and what we have is an open-n-shut case of a perverted teacher trying to sink his claws into poor innocent girls," Vernal sniffed mockingly. The blondie looked deathly pale. Good, that would show him how to talk down to her. "From what I heard, you got fired for hitting your student too, right? That certainly doesn't paint you in the best of lights now, does it?"

"Y-You are the one who kissed me!" he pointed out. "You are the one who attacked me. I didn't even do anything!"

"And you think it will matter? All that could or would be said is on the photo here. And this doesn't look good at all. Not for you, at least."

He moved to take her phone.

Too slow and too sluggish. She didn't stop him though, "Deleting it won't matter. It's all on my Dust Disk now. So unless you know how to hack into my account before I can do anything with it, you should be a good boy and listen to whatever I say."

The teacher gritted his teeth but did little more. Good, he seemed to understand. "Why are you doing this?" he asked with the heavy dose of frustration in voice. "You want me to quit teaching? Or give you a better grade? Cause I can do the former but not the latter."

Oh, an idealist, how cute.

"Nah, I don't care about getting A's," she looked him in the eyes and smirked, "Though I am interested in that D of yours you showed us today."

"W-What?"

"You heard me," she kneeled before him, giving him a wolfish grin. "Take off your clothes. Now."

After a few silent minutes, Vernal watched him follow her order. It was nothing like in porn where the dude would rip off his clothes or even take them off sexually. He did it slowly, awkwardly and unsure. Obviously, he wasn't used to the stuff like that. Too bad for him, of course. She enjoyed how vulnerable he looked quite a lot. Finally, mhe stood before her in all his naked glory.

Now to get to the fun part.

"You know, teach, you are a really lucky guy," she said as she wrapped he rfingers around his hardening member. The heat it radiated sent arousal down to her very core. The fact that actually struggled to get it in her full grip certainly didn't help her growing excitement. "With this bitch breaker between your legs, all the girls in our class are dreaming of getting fucked by you."

And that was their class alone. Wait till the rumors spread and the senior heard all about him. Not that it would matter, of course.

"Too bad for them, cause I am claiming you tonight."

Hard and hot, his meat rod stood proud, easily big enough to cover her face. What would intimidate or even scare off the other girls only intrigued Vernal further. Her mouth watered and her loins burnt in anticipation of receiving all that dick inside, but she forced herself to keep it under control. She would have him begging her to fuck him first. So that by the time she was done with him, their teacher was properly house-broken and obedient little dildo.

"Do you like it?" she whispered into his ear, dragging her hand up and down his shaft, occasionally pausing to play around with the head of his cock. "I bet you jerk off when thinking of all your female students. You probably imagine them fucking and sucking you till you cover them in your hot thick cum every single fucking night, is that right?"

"I don't!"

She squeezed harder and moved her hand faster, making him groan and grunt and pant. "Liar," she smirked as she felt his cock throb. "Aw, you are close to cumming now, aren't you?"

The teacher protested weakly, a signal for her to crank it a bit higher. Removing her shirt and bra, she wasted no time in wrapping her breasts around his cock. Or trying to. She wasn't as flat as that washboard Weiss but she doubted even Xia Long cow could properly get this monster between her tits. And it seemed to be working as he struggled to not cum from the contact with her bare chest.

He failed not even five minutes after she started titfucking him. With a groan, he started releasing one thick rope of semen after another, covering her face and chest in his cum. She scooped some of it up and brought it to her mouth. Salty, bitter and sour, her first instinct was to spit that shit out. But not even a second after that, she found herself hungry for more. Dragging her fingers all across her chest and face, she wasted no time in devouring as much of it as she could while it was still hot.

And by the time she was done, the teach was ready to go again.

"Do you want to cum again, teach?" Mumbles. Barely audible whispering. He refused to look her in the eyes. "I can't hear you, speak the fuck up!"

"Yes," he moaned as she mounted herself on the top of him. Her wet, dripping cunt burshing right above his hardened meat rod. Just an inch separated the two, the heat from their respective organs enticing and intoxicating. "I want to fuck you... So Vernal, please..."

She smiled, "Good answer, teacher! Here is your reward!"

And with that cry, she slammed her hips down. She felt his cock pierce all the way inside, stretching her pussy to the limits. Vernal gritted her teeth as the wave of delightful pain washed over her. Again and again, the insane mixture of pain and pleasure coursed through her body, sending her mind into a frenzy. Her body covered in sweat, she grinned down at the teach.

"So? Still think you can talk down to me?" She was about to say more but then she realized something as she looked below herself. The blondie's cock pierced its way right up to her womb... But she still had good five inches left to go. "Shit..."

"Vernal, don't push yourself," the teach groaned from under her. "Y-You proved your point, okay? Now how about we calm down and talk it out? Seriously, you shouln't be doing this sort of thing with-"

"Shut the fuck up!" she slapped him across his face, cutting him off. Who did he think she was? Some damn pillow princess? A no good virgin? "Just shut it and be a good fucking dildo with legs, will you?"

She could do this. She could totally do this. She could fucking take this cock and break him in. Just fucking watch her.

Vernal took a deep breath as she forced herself further down his cock. She felt her breath get stuck in her throat as she took one inch after another, her body shaking as she struggled to stay sane. Finally, she managed to get all of that meat inside her now much more crammed insides. She did it! She had it all inside!

But she couldn't move.

Vernal could tell that if she moved even a little, she would break. Body and mind, she would end up breaking like some damn virgin. But she couldn't show that weakness in front of him. The moment she showed it, the damn teach would try and take over. She couldn't let that happen. She just needed a few minutes to catch her breath, "So how does it feel, teach? You love my pussy wrapped all around your cock? I bet you are going to cum any second now. Too bad that I have no interest in weak spineless guys like you... If you beg me enough though, maybe I will let you be my fuck slave!"

The teach gritted his teeth as he tried to get her off. Fuck, he must have seen she was losing control. She needed to reestablish her dominance now. And do it fast, "Why are you fighting back, huh? I bet your only experience was just some pity sex! Or maybe you were just a virgin, huh? I bet you never even touched a woman. Feel grateful that you get to have sex with me, you spiiiiEEEEH!"

Suddenly Vernal was on her back, the teach towering over her. It was only now that she realized that his muscles weren't just for show. Unfortunately, she found that only by struggling and failing to break his hold on her. Shit! Oh well, she was nothing if not resourceful. Teach might have enjoyed a momentary advantage over her, but she could crush it without any trouble.

"Is that it, Arc?" she sneered, throwing a vicious glare his way. "What now, you are going to fuck me? Make me pay for treating you like this? Well, go right ahead, cause after that you are the one who is screwed!" There was a change in his eyes. He seemed shaken. Hesitant and fearful. "That's right, now you understand, don't you? So if you know what's good for you, then you better get back down on your knees and do as you are told."

She felt his grip loosen and now she patiently waited for him to assume his position on the floor. One minute, then another... Why the hell was he still not on his damn knees? Before she could rip into him again, she felt her body pulled forth. Her cry of surprise was quickly muffled with the teacher's lips. A part of her resisted and screamed at her to bite his lips off.

But that part was small and quiet compared to the rest of herself that revelled in the sudden surge of pleasure. It grew even smaller and quieter as he invaded her mouth with his tongue. As he examined and tasted every single bit of the inside of her mouth. His tongue felt like the living fire, sorching and boiling her from the inside. She could feel her boyd tremble as she came closer to orgasm from this kiss.

From the damn kiss alone!

But what her body was going through was nothing compared to the things this bastard was doing to her mind. Little by little, but her defense and drive to dominate over the blondie was crumbling to dust. The desire to have him under her was slowly falling apart, burned down by the growing flames of something more. Something so much stronger...

She felt cold. Suddenly, all that fire and lust were gone, ripped away from her core without mercy or warning. She stared at the teach in shock, breathless and paralyzed by the sudden cold that now was in her body, "W-What... Why- What gives, teach?"

Her words came out much weaker and less demanding than she was used to or comfortable with. Somehow, she didn't care all that much. She just needed to cling to that warmth that had been stolen from her.

"C-Come on, you are not mad, are you? I was just fooling around, you know. So how about we just forget about the threats and enjoy our time together? I promise I will make it worth your while," she let out a small needy whine, burning up in shame and arousal as she refused to let go of his shoulders. When the blondie said nothing and just looked down on her, she felt her temper flare up again. "You fucking piece of shit... You think you are some tough shit? I can destroy with a word and a damn photo, so you better go ahead and start fucking me, you bast-!"

She was silenced once more. This time, though, much more roughly. The teach was more confident and bold as his hands started freely roaming all over her body. He kneaded and squeezed her breasts, making her moan against his tongue in weak and clingy moans. He moved his mouth to her neck, covering her tanned skin with sorching kisses and licks. She gritted her teeth in a desperate attempt to retain some semblance of control over what was happening.

It all broke apart once his hands went to her ass. Her eyes widened in shock as she felt his fingers trace around her tight little asshole. The fear set in, making her shake as she cried out, "W-Wait! Not there, please! Time out, please time ou-!"

Her pleas fell on silent ears as the teach mercilessly plunged two fingers of each hand inside and spread her apart. The sudden simulation proved too much for her as her whole body shook in orgasm. Her eyes rolled back to the back of her head as she struggled to keep her mind intact. All a failure as her brains turned to mash, an idiotically wide smile across her lips.

"T... This was fucking amazing...," Vernal thought as she rested her head on Jaune's shoulder. Without much thought, she started breathing his smell in. Her head spun as she found herself growing intoxicated with the smell of his body. Without more said, Jaune placed him down on the sofa. Taking the cue, she laid back and spread her legs, exposing her dripping pussy. "Go on ahead, teach... Finally fuck me for real!"

Her shirt landed on her face.

"I think you should go now."

Wait.

"What?" she rose to her knees, throwing the damn shirt away. She wasn't planning on wearing it. Not unless she got fucked into a damn coma before. "You are not fucking serious now, are you? You think you can just make me cum once and send me back home. Well, think again you dipshit cause I-"

"Quiet." She instantly fell silent, surprised by herself. Moreso, she was shocked by the sheer power in his voice. And how much pleasure listening to him brought her. "Give me your phone."

A small part of her rose in protest. This was her sole leverage and only means of keeping him under her. If she gave it away, she wouldn't hold any ground. Their school would cut any dishonest claim down and prevent her from harassing him into obedience! She had to hold onto that damn fault at all costs.

"Here you go, sir," she said without a hint of sarcasm. That small part of her whined and cried out in despair as she stared at him in anticipation of another command. Obedience was a new experience. Following someone's commands and doing so without snark or bite... She would stab herself in the throat before she admitted it but it felt good. Or rather, it felt to obey Jaune...

She watched him delete any evidence she had on him. Then he tossed a phone back to her, "Now you may leave."

She didn't want to. She couldn't do it!

"T-Teach... Sir, please, let me stay," she got down on the floor. Without taking her eyes off his face, she crawled up to him, making sure to sway her hips as seductively as possible. Jaune appeared unimpressed, which made getting his praise all the more important to her. "I am really sorry about earlier... Please, let me just show you how sorry I am! Okay? Please?"

At this point, she was pressing her face against his hardened cock, intoxicated by the smell alone. She salivated, drool dripping down from her mouth as she fought the urge to just swallow it all in and skullfuck herself on that meat ro of his. But she would wait. She had to wait if only to prove she could be good for him. So she whined and cried and begged and humiliated herself, all but humping his leg at this point.

"I think I finally figured you out," Jaune smirked as he cupped her face in his hand. His grin was wolfish, the kind of grin a predator had before playing with its prey. He pushed her on her back, hand roughly pressed against her swollen cunt. "For all your talk, you are just a masochistic pig, aren't you? Is that the reason why you talked shit to me? To try and push me? Well, mission accomplished!"

Without a warning, he plunged his fingers inside her, spreading and playing with her insides. She winced and wriggled in her place, suppressing the pathetic whining that was about to emerge from her throat. SHe was amazed by how easily he could bring her to the brink of orgasm. How little effort he took when it came to bringing her under his control.

Maybe he was right? What if she was just wishing for someone like him to come along and take control of her, To make her obey...

"Ah, no cumming yet, Vernal," Jaune chided as he squeezed her breast. "You are not going to cum without my permission. Not if you want me to eve fuck that needy little cunt of yours ever again."

She obeyed and fell silent, trying to focus on not cumming. She held on for the good five minutes before she was close to breaking into tears. As if to mock her unberably growing arousal, his cock stood tall, hard and fat, the precum leaking and dropping inches away from her mouth. She tried to lick some of it up but a harsh slap conveyed a silent rule against doing so.

And so she laid, Jaune playing around with her body like his personal toy, as his precum kept teasingly dropping on and dripping down her face. It wasn't long before her mind was rotting away, ripped into shreds as she focused solely not cumming her brains out. Not until she got fucked by Jaune. But the longer she held onto this orgasm, the harder it became to not lose it and go insane.

But she could wait only for so long before she was reduced to a sobbing mess.

"S-Sir," she looked at him up with tears in her eyes, body trembling in the need for release. She had to cum. She wanted to cum now! She needed to cum or she would go crazy! "Please, just let me cum! I am begging you, please, let me cum just this once! I swear to God, I will be your good little girl if you let me, please!"

And she meant it. Every goddamn fucking word. If only he let her cum, she would do whatever the fuck he wanted. She would be a good students and a good little fucktoy. Whatever he wanted, whatever he needed, she would give him all that he asked of her. Just one little orgasm. Just one chance to cum, that's all that she was asking for.

"Very well," Jaune finally chuckled as he kneeled before her. Without much care, he spread and pressed her legs down. She was shaking with excitement, barely keeping herself from cumming there and then. It became much harder the moment she felt his tip brush against her swollen leaking pussy. "Make sure not to cum right away though. Otherwise, I might throw you away,"

And he meant it, she knew that. With a cock like his, Jaune could have any slut at his beck and call. And, as much as she hated to admit, no guy would pick one girl over the whole damn school of hot bitches. But she wouldn't give up on him that easily. She was first and she had the right to his cock. To hell with whatever shit others would throw his way, she had to make sure Jaune saw her as his number one.

"Nghh!" she grunted as Jaune drove his cock inside her. Inch by inch, he took his sweet time in penetrating her already sensitive pussy. All in another show of dominance and control over her. To remind her how easy it was for him to drive her to the edge and keep her there. "Ah... Ah... Sir, please... Hurry up and fuck me, please! I don't think I can hold on any longer!"

"Is that so?" he asked, twisting her nipple between his fingers. He pulled and squeezed it, enjoying her pathetic moaning. He was grinning as he listened to her incoherent cock-drunk pleadings. "Then why should I keep you around, huh? If you can't handle that much, then shouldn't I look for someone who can? What good are you if you can't even satisfy me properly, you little whore?"

Vernal groaned and moaned as he slowly fucked her. Torturously slow, he drove his cock in and out of her slopping cunt. She bit her lips as with each slow thrust, Jaune was reaching and piercing all the way right to her womb. And with each one of those thrusts, he was breaking her already vulnerable psyche even further, feeding her addiction to his cock.

"Do you love it, Vernal? God, you are so tight, did you want my cock that much?" she refused to answer, all too lose in the pleasure. Her brain was melting as she tried to drink in every single bit of the experience. She cried out as Jaune pulled her up by the hair till she was facing him. "Hey, answer when I am speaking to you. Or do you have nothing but cocks on your mind?"

"Cock..." Vernal moaned desperately. "Faster... Please. faster... Fuck me with your cock faster... Faster and harder... Please!"

Vernal care little for how she sounded at this point. She didn't care if Jaune fucked her senseless or treated her like a walking fucktoy. As long as she got fucked by him without mercy and care, she could live with that. And it seemed that her pathetic whining got the desired result for the next moment Jaune slammed all the way inside her. She felt the breath ripped out of her as he pulled her closer to his chest.

"Yes! Just like that, sir!" she cheered as Jaune rose to his feet, his cock lodged deep in her crammed pussy. In any other situation, she would be eager to take the inititiative, but with Jaune, Vernal found herself the happiest when she gave up on any semblance of control. "Please, teach me a lesson in obedience! Fuck the proper discipline into this useless little brat! Hyaaaa!"

Vernal cried out as Jaune's palm swiftly landed on her ass. She yelped in surprise as the teach continued to fondle her toned ass, painfully squeezing it until she was moaning in sweet pain. Then, without as much as a warning, he proceeded to rain down merciless spanking on her now much more sensitive ass. That only drove so much closer to the orgasm she was despertely holding back. And now she felt she could no longer restrain herself.

"S-Sir, please! Wanna cum! Let me cum!" She felt his cock swell and twitch inside of her. She could tell he was close. A warm feeling swelled in her heart at the thought of cumming together. "Please, let's cum together, sir! I wanna cum with you! Please, please, please!"

"Let's do this," Jaune whispered into her ear as he slammed his cock inside all the way through. "Better not spill a drop!"

Her back pressed against the wall, Vernal felt Jaune erupt inside of her, his hot thick semen filling up her womb. Her head was spinning now, she drunkenly reached for Jaune's mouth with her own. She had no strength to beg now, having screamed her lungs out by now. She was only lucky that the teacher was all too accepting of her, locking lips and tongue with her.

His cock still inside her, their mouth still locked in passionate makeout session, the two went to Jaune's bedroom. They exchanged hot hungry kisses as they laid on his bed. Vernal reluctantly let go of her teacher's mouth. She didn't wish to lose that warmth but she was so hungry for some semen in her mouth she couldn't wait anymore. Carefully, she cralwed back till she was in front of his flaccid cock.

Even soft, it was still too big to fit inside her mouth. But as long as Jaune was satisfied, she would happily conquer this challenge. And so with, eyes locked on Jaune's expression. Her heart grew warmer when she saw a smile. It soared even higher when he rested his hand on her head, like an owner would praise his pet for following commands properly.

"You are hard again, sir" she mewled, taking a long lick up his shaft. Sweaty and bitter, tasting of the mixture of her own pussy juices and his semen, the flavor was all too strong to resist. "Just how long can you go on for?"

"Wouldn't you like to find out?"

Oh, how she would. It took her a gargantuan effort to open her mouth wide enough to fit the thing inside. It took even more time and effort to force the cock down her throat. It hurt and scratched the insides but with each pang of pain she was growing wetter and hornier. By the time she managed to swallow his cock, she felt dizzy and was about ready to pass out.

But Vernal was nothing if not stubborn. So she pushed through the pain and exhaustion and willed herself to start deepthroating him. She started slow, Jaune gave her all the time she needed to get used to it. Not that she planned to take too long. Eyes still locked on Jaune's face, she started moving her head faster, tightening her throat around his cock even further.

She didn't care for pain and discomfort as her mind focused solely on the small but honest smile on Jaune's face. Obeying him... Pleasuring him... It felt so much better than when she was trying to bring him under her command. Her heart swelled when his hands rested on her head... and froze as she was pushed all the way down on his cock. Her vision blurred and mind swam as Jaune started dragging her mouth up and down his thick girthy cock, treating her as nothing more than a hole to fuck.

And by Gods, wasn't it the hottest thing ever!

"You and the rest of the girls... Teasing and pushing me the whole day, you came here just to get fucked into a mess, didn't you, Vernal?" he lifted her up, holding her mouth inches away from his swollen head. "Admit it!"

"Yes, sir!" she cried out, eyes frantic and hungry for more. More pain. More pleasure. More humiliation and disciplining. "I really needed to be put in my place, sir! Thank you for fucking me, sir!"

More rough and heated skullfucking followed, her mouth stretched and jaw practically unhinged in a desperate attempt to accomodate his cock. She was running short on air and her nostrils flared in undignified pursuit of oxygen. Jaune chuckled as he lodged himself all the way in her throat, his cock throbbing and pulsating in a warning of upcoming release.

"Gagkhnhhh!" Vernal choked and gagged, the violent burst of semen flooding her throat. The hot sticky thick goo cascaded down her throat, burning down and away any and all memories of other tastes. Food or drinks, no mater how delectable and rare, vanished from her mind as Jaune's semen took the main place as her favorite flavor for everything. "Ahhh..."

As Jaune pulled out of her mouth, Vernal started frantically licking around her lips, desperate not to waste a single drop of his delicious cum. As she did so, her eyes wandered off and landed on the mirror in the room. In its reflection, the girl that defied any and all authority was nowhere to be found. In her place, naked and sweaty and covered in drops of cum, was a woman living for the pleasure of her man. Broken, degraded and des[erate for more humiliation and abuse at the hands of the man holding her head.

And she loved every single thing about that woman.

The makeup smeared all over face. Her hair, disheveled and covered in sweat and cum. The shameless expression on her face, mouth wide open with the tongue out. And the eyes that spoke of nothing but pleasure found in obedience.

"Hey, don't space out, slut."

Jaune gave her a scornful playful look before throwing her down. She whined in desperation, fearful of being denied another good dicking. Not a case, she caught on quickly, as Jaune pressed her into the mattress, head down and ass up in the air. He pressed his thumb against her puckered asshole, roughly massaging the growingly sensitive spot. Was he going to- Oh Gods!

"Oh, so you were a virgin down here, huh," Jaune chuckled as he no doubt watched the blood trickle down her legs. "I thought a slut like you would have fucked in the ass a ton of times by now."

The verbal abuse shook het to the core, the desire to agree and degrade herself with words rising to the top but failing to be voiced. Vernal was unable to answer, her mind abuzz with all the sensations her body was going through. The mere pulsations and heat from Jaune's cock spread through her entire being like the wildfire, scorching her already burning flesh even more. Shaking and twitching, barely holding onto whatever remained of her brain, Vernal turned to Jaune and whimpered pathetically, "P-Please, sir... B-Be gentle, please!"

Jaune smiled at her. A false reassurance since the next second he tore through her without mercy, care or pity. Vernal let out a shriek, mind going blank as her body spasmed and shook with the violent squirting. Orgasms rocked and shook her body as she desperately and unsuccessfully tried to stop herself from cumming like a faucet. The seemingly endless squirting didn't stop or even slow Jaune down as he mercilessly thrusted into her at the pace one could only call mindblowing.

He was going to fuck her brains out. He was fucking her brains out already! Her pussy and womb were by now shaped solely for him, addicted to the pain and the feeling of him inside of her too much to ever be satisfied by anyone else. Her breasts and ass burnt whenever his hands were no longer squuezing or spanking them, so needy for his rough and rude treatment. And as for her heart and soul?

She had given up on them the moment she tasted his cock.

Now she was only embracing it.

"Beg to cum, Vernal!" Jaune ordered her, his hot breath scorching her neck. "Beg for it like a apthetic little whore you are!"

And she was happy to obey.

"Please, sir, please cum inside me! Mark me as your little pet! Please, I want your cum inside me!" she mewled and cried, thrusting against his cock, trying to get him as deep inside as she could. "I am your whore! Your pet! Your cum-addicted student! So please, sir, mark me as your own forever!"

Jaune kept thrusting but gave her no permission.

"Please! I will be good! I will be whatever you want, sir!" she grew desperate, feeling her own orgasm build up to the breaking point. "I will be your little fuck slave until the rest of my days! I will be your obeident little student if you want! I will be the best cock whore you could wish for, just please let me cuUUUUM!"

Jaune came with a final grunt, marking her asshole as his with his hot semen. With this, all three of her holes now belonged to him. Vernal let out one final moan as she collapsed onto his bed, the cum oozing out of her abused asshole. Her eyes wandered off to Jaune and saw that he was fast asleep. Perhaps that little medicine she used made him overexert himself? Not that it mattered, really.

Crawling over to him, Vernal laid by his side. Jaune showed her that he was the dominant one. And, with all the pleasure she received under him, it wouldn't be anytime soon when she decided to challenge him on that one. But, as submissive as she might have been with him, she remained an Alpha among the girls. And she planned to keep it that way.

"Smile for the camera, sir," Vernal purred as she planted a kiss on his cheek as she snapped a quick picture. Admiring her work, Vernal threw her phone off to the pile of clothes on the floor. Too tired to walk back to the dorm and not very willing to do so anyway, Vernal covered Jaune under the sheets before cuddling next to him. His body was still hot and sweaty from their intense fucking. And she pressed harder against him.

Maybe making it a long-term thing wasn't such a bad idea, after all? Jaune wasn't exactly as rough or confident in his daily life as she would like. But if his actions in bed were any indication, maybe she could bring it out? Yes, that sounded great. It would taker some time and effort, but hey, all things worth something did. He already was a beast in the sheets, now she needed to make sure he showed that outside his bedroom.

And make sure none of the other girls sunk their claws into him.

"Sweet dreams, Jaune."

She knew she was going to have them.

BGW

"I bet you jerk off when thinking of all your female students. You probably imagine them fucking and sucking you till you cover them in your hot thick cum every single fucking night, is that right?"

Neo let out a silent moan as she came for what must have been the tenth time by now. Her skirt and panties were long since discarded, now lying in the puddle of her juices on the floor. She didn't care for the clothes, far too focused on drinking in every moment of what she had just watched. A shame that Vernal got to him first. A real damn shame, if you asked Neo.

She was the one who showed his cock. And, technically, she was the one who saw it first in the class. Hell, if not for her, none of them would know about that bitch breaker he had between his legs. It was her right to break him in first. To make him into her obedient little pet. And for that flat whore to just swoop in and try to steal him? Neo had half a mind to publically punish the bitch.

"Please, teach me a lesson in obedience! Fuck the proper discipline into this useless little brat! Hyaaaa!"

It seemed, however, that the teacher did more than good on that frontier. As much as Neo would love to leash and lead that bitch around campus, watching her try and be a Dom only to get fucked into submission was so much more satisfying. The poor little Vernal who thought herself Alpha Bitch bit off more than she could chew, that's for sure.

"I am your whore! Your pet! Your cum-addicted student! So please, sir, mark me as your own forever!"

And now Neo had just the kind of blackmail to bring that bitch under her heel.

With that kind of leverage, she could have both Vernal and Jaune as her personal little toys. Oh, how exciting it would be. She had no doubt that, with her experience, breaking Jaune down would be a piece of cake. And she would hae Vernal watch it all. Hell, that Wennbar whore would be lucky if Neo ever let her be fucked by a dildo again. For all those times they butted heads together, Neo would reduce Vernal into the lowest of the low, her own bottom bitch who'd do whatever she was told.

Yes... That sounded just nice.

"I really don't like the look on your face. Thinking of doing it all by yourself, again?"

Neo huffed and pouted, throwing an annoyed glance towards the other two in the room. Or rather, the only one of those two whose voice mattered.

"Bite me, Fall," Neo snapped, masturbating even more furiously to the sound of Vernal's pathetic whining and begging. "If you don't like it, then you should leave me alone."

The raven-haired teacher smiled, though her eyes promised her harm if she spoke like that again today. No matter, she knew she could take her in a fight if necessary. "You sure are talkative today, aren't you? Do I need to remind you who set up those cameras in his apartment so that you could rub your brains out like a needy little whore?"

"The slut eating you out like it's her last meal?" Neo raised an eyebrow, pointing at the mocha-skinned kleptomaniac. Emerald didn't pay any mind though, too absorbed in eating out her owner and mistress. Like a starved dog, she was lapping up Cinder's juices, her tongue exploring every inch of the woman's folds. "She is so pathetic I can't even watch it."

"Is that so?" Cinder smirked before snapping her delicate fingers. Like she was burnt, Emerald rose to her feet, showing off her naked body. Neo would lie if she said Emerald didn't have a nice body. She wasn't thing like Cinder or muscular and toned like Arslan, but she wasn't unattractive either. She had fat in the right places, just enough to squeeze and pull and play with. "Emerald, bring me some of the toys. I am feeling playful right now."

The girl obeyed, eagerly nodding. Not even a minute or two after, she presented Cinder with thick black strap-on and a whip. Her favorite combination, no doubt. Neo was about to get back watching Jaune fuck Vernal into submission when she got hit with a strap-on of her own, bright pink and as big as Cinder's. Emerald looked at Neo, fearful and worried. Like a puppy lost, she was so afraid of bigger dogs.

As she should have been.

Turning up the volume of the video, Neo pushed Emerald onto the floor, pressing her head down with her foot. She could see the mocha bitch leak down there in shame and humiliation she loved so much. She tried to hide her face from Neo, but the fake silent girl knew how much she was enjoying it. What a masochistic pig!

"Aaaargh!" Emerald cried out as Neo started violently slamming her hips against her ass, pushing the plastic cock all the way down there. Emerald was shaking violently, obviously resisting the orgasm in something stupid show of loyalty to her mistress. Good, she wanted to beat that orgasm out of her anyway. "Cinder! Mistress, please make her stop! It hurts! It hurts! It hurtsssss!"

She came, squiting all over the place. Eyes rolled back and face melted in an absolutely stupid expression, she kept pathetically calling for Cinder to forgive her. Her legs trembled and shook before she orgasmed again. And again and again, obviously messed up from all the weeks of denial Cinder put her through to train her into a fully-obedient little slut.

"So what was this about?" Neo asked as she kicked Emerald in her still drenched twat, making the little piggy masochist squeal and moan before cumming again. "Trying to get me under you?"

"Not quite," Cinder smiled as she walked up to Neo. Emerald, smelling the aroma of her Mitress' dripping cunt, stumbled and crawled up to her. On her knees, hands out like dog's paws and tongue out, Emerald was whining for attention. For the chance to earn forgiveness of her Mitress. Not that said Mistress cared one bit. "That was a demonstration of what you could get with me on your side. Did you enjoy fucking my little pet here like that? Or maybe you enjoyed watching her serve me every whim and command?"

Neo said nothing. Both were quite hot indeed. She often imagined Cinder just as broken and pathetic, with herself in the role of the Mistress.

"I have the means to make sure Vernal and the others will be like that. All I need of you is to work for me. You do as you are told, and trust me, in a couple of weeks, Vernal will be at your beck and call, ready to humiliate and degrade herself for your amusement."

The images of that scenario started popping in her mind. Neo could imagine the school life with herself in charge. Making the girls in the entire class walk around the school with fist-sized dildos up their asses and cunts. Pathetic little whores like Vernal and Ciel and Coco being reduced to sobbing messes as she kept them denied for weeks or even months. How those older bitches would step over each other in a desperate attempt to win her favor.

She would the Alpha Bitch of the school, the top of the fucking food chain. And with that kind of power, it would be also natural to bring some of her influence later in her life once she graduated. As for Cinder... She knew that the Deputy Headmistress was always looking out for her own interests. And she would discard her if the opportunity presented itself.

But if Neo managed to grab control over Jaune... She could imagine Cinder, broken and pathetic, smiling like an idiot as she was being fucked into submission by her blonde hunk. Yes... She could totally pull that one off.

"In that case," she smiled and extended her hand, stepping on Emerald's fat ass in the process of walking to the teacher. "You got yourself a partner, Cinder."

And soon an owner and mistress.

"Let's get to work then."

#rwby #rwby fanfiction #Jaune Arc #Vernal #jaune x vernal #rogue knight #commission #Bad Gone Worse au

216 notes · View notes

vmfx · 3 years ago

Text

RANDOMS AND BLANKS.

Summertime draws to a close. The kids are going back to school to pursue not only their careers but also young college girls, ridiculous party weekends soaked in alcohol and day-after results of blackout gaffes posted on Facebook. As usual when summer is over, my manager scrambles to fill in the blanks for adequate staffing.

He has hired every walk of life imaginable. Everyone, from 45 year-old has-beens, sleepy-time addicts wearing low-cut blouses with short skirts, round-the-clock drunks, and future sexual predators, each one besting the last. None, however, raced out of the gate as fast as Kieran.

He started working with us during Labor Day weekend. Real upbeat, eager to learn, lots of energy. We both associated real well and he laughed hard at all my jokes and stories I had. Kieran, on the other hand, wasn’t joking when he told me about his stories, mostly random and out of leftfield. Such as when he disclosed to me about his ADHD and how he took lithium to treat it. That was not the reason why he was kicked out of his house from the last episode: that went to his previous stint as a male stripper.

During one busy weekend taking care of a huge mob of customers, he randomly nudges me for my attention. We both hurdle behind the counter.

“You see that lady I’m helping out that’s right in front of you?” smiled Kieran.

“Is that your ma’?”

“No, that’s my 3rd grade teacher. I stabbed her. I got kicked out of school for it.” laughed Kieran.

“You what?”

“Yeah. I stabbed her. Wait, hold on…Mrs. McNaneman? I’m Kieran. Remember me? I was a student of yours years ago!”

I look over my shoulder through the corner of my eye as his victim teacher customer frantically denies herself when she realized it was her former student that attacked her. It was not the only nudge I got from Kieran as the next day he tells me about another wonderful stunt of his.

“Hey, you see that black chick I’m helping out?”

“What about her?” This cannot be good, I thought.

“She’s my next-door neighbor. I fucked her” grinned Kieran as he pressed me to buy his latest back-flips and cartwheels.

**********

One week passes and our daring cowboy Kieran has already given away enough ammunition for his fellow co-workers to shoot back at him. The claims were so outrageous that the drama kings behind the counter were alread talking about him as the latest piece of hot news. It was discovered that Kieran just got engaged to his girlfriend of six weeks after he met her on an online dating site. But these male fishwives gave it up when they realized that it was his decision to be happy and it had nothing to do with them.

Kieran still lived his life spontaneously as so much complicated. He even brought the chaos to work with him when, one evening walking away from the kitchen, I am introduced to a stand-off between him and a father-son duo across the counter. The father gives up and walks away, but his 50-year old son decided to stay and defend his family honor. A verbal firing match ensues between the son, Kieran, and another kid DeGennaro.

“Leave right now. If you don’t like it, go talk to the manager” said Kieran’s ally.

“I don’t need to talk to the fucking manager!” the son fired back.

This is what I run into. The shot heard around the store stopped half the shoppers dead in their tracks. The commotion lasts around two minutes before the duo splits and everyone else in the store moves on with their lives. Kieran frantically tells me the whole story while riding a 90 mile-an-hour heartbeat. All he did was make a joke with the father, but the son took it a little too seriously. Obviously Kieran was shaken. Eventually the order was sealed and delivered to the father, and Kieran & Friends resumed their duties. It was over.

..or so we thought. Thirty minutes later, someone pays us a visit.

“Which one of you guys just disrespected my father? I want to know. NOW.” A vicious and angry daughter of the family, complete with a Long Island circus seal dialect, was looking for some heat. It was about to go down.

My co-workers and I were caught off-guard not only because we didn’t expect it, but with such venom and razor-sharp veracity towards us. I kept my mouth shut as one of my guys denied himself. And then we have Kieran, who slipped and gave himself away.

“It was YOU!” The daughter fingers him as the fire-starter with a big bolt of lightning.

“My father who is mentally ill and had just come out of the hospital was looking forward all day to go shopping. How would YOU like it if someone disrespected YOUR father?”

This woman had absolutely no shame as she turned the entire market into a one-woman pageant with her trash talk-show performance. She reduced Kieran to a young deer in truck headlights as she constantly threw verbal punches, not allowing him one single opportunity to defend himself let alone say a complete word. All the customers, cashiers, and bystanders froze in their tracks to see this loudmouth stereotype completely fly off the handle. Soon after, our manager / ex-police officer Doug comes over and attempts to perform animal control to calm the beast down. As he nods his head to try and reason with the lady, she calls him out with a big “you don’t care!”, walks away from him and out of the store, thus declaring herself that day’s winner and champion.

And all that Kieran ever did was told a joke to her father.

**********

It took two weeks before Kieran was let go. Being an hour-and-a-half late did him in, or so we believe. I had nothing bad to say about him. My co-worker friends think otherwise. They were considered normal compared to Kieran and his silly antics that he brought to the table. No one knows where he is now and no one cares unless they wanted to discuss how fucked up he was, a customer reminded us again.

“So how was it working with Kieran?” says an older man stopping by for an order. We all turned around wondering how he knew such a thing. DeGennaro gave him a total timetable of two weeks and he was right.

“Two weeks? I’m surprised he lasted that long!” says the old man. We all laughed because it was true. “I’ve known Kieran since he was born. Man, that kid’s a short bus!”

We all burst out laughing. DeGennaro had a curiosity, and stepped up to the plate.

“So, how’s his mom doing? I heard she recently had a heart attack” he inquires.

“What heart attack? She never had one!” said the man.

“Wow…must’ve been a miraculous recovery!” DeGennaro was surprised.

We all turned to each other wondering how Kieran could ever do such a thing. We all declared this an unforgivable cardinal sin for Kieran to fake his mother’s death and to lie about his own family like that. We were all swindled.

#VMFX #Long Island #wow #whoa #drama #WTF #personal

0 notes

pope-francis-quotes · 6 years ago

Photo

28th June >> (@zenitenglish) Pope Francis’ Homily at Consistory to Create 14 New Cardinals (Full Text) “Whoever would be first among you must be slave of all” Pope Francis on June 28, 2018, held a consistory in St. Peter’s Basilica, for the creation of 14 new cardinals. Following is the Vatican-provided text of the Holy Father homily for the occasion. “They were on the road, going up to Jerusalem, and Jesus was walking ahead of them” (Mk 10:32). [1] The beginning of this typical passage in Mark always helps us realize how the Lord cares for his people with a pedagogy all his own. Journeying to Jerusalem, Jesus is careful to walk ahead of his disciples. Jerusalem represents the defining and decisive moment of his life. All of us know that at important and crucial times in life, the heart can speak and reveal the intentions and tensions within us. These turning points in life challenge us; they bring out questions and desires not always evident to our human hearts. This is what is presented, with great simplicity and realism, in the Gospel passage we have just heard. At the third and most troubling announcement of the Lord’s passion, the Evangelist does not shrink from disclosing secrets present in the hearts of the disciples: their quest of honors, jealousy, envy, intrigue, accommodation, and compromise. This kind of thinking not only wears and eats away at their relationship but also imprisons them in useless and petty discussions. Yet Jesus is not concerned with this: he walks ahead of them and he keeps going. And he tells them forcefully: “But it shall not be so among you; whoever would be great among you must be your servant” (Mk 10:43). In this way, the Lord tries to refocus the eyes and hearts of his disciples, so that there will be no fruitless and self-referential discussions in the community. What does it profit us to gain the whole world if we are corroded within? What does it profit us to gain the whole world if we are living in a stifling atmosphere of intrigues that dry up our hearts and impede our mission? Here, as someone has observed, we might think of all those palace intrigues that take place, even in curial offices. “But it shall not be so among you”. The Lord’s response is above all an encouragement and a challenge to his disciples to recoup their better part, lest their hearts be spoiled and imprisoned by a worldly mentality blind to what is really important. “But it shall not be so among you”. The voice of the Lord saves the community from undue introspection and directs its vision, resources, aspirations, and heart to the only thing that counts: the mission. Jesus teaches us that conversion, change of heart and Church reform is and ever shall be in a missionary key, which demands an end to looking out for and protecting our own interests, in order to look out for and protect those of the Father. Conversion from our sins and from selfishness will never be an end in itself but is always a means of growing in fidelity and willingness to embrace the mission. At the moment of truth, especially when we see the distress of our brothers and sisters, we will be completely prepared to accompany and embrace them, one and all. In this way, we avoid becoming effective “roadblocks”, whether because of our short-sightedness[2] or our useless wrangling about who is most important. When we forget the mission, when we lose sight of the real faces of our brothers and sisters, our life gets locked up in the pursuit of our own interests and securities. Resentment then begins to grow, together with sadness and revulsion. Gradually we have less and less room for others, for the Church community, for the poor, for hearing the Lord’s voice. Joy fades and the heart withers (cf. Evangelii Gaudium, 2). “But it shall not be so among you”. Jesus goes on to say. “Whoever would be first among you must be slave of all” (Mk 10:43.44). This is the Beatitude and the Magnificat that we are called to sing daily. It is the Lord’s invitation not to forget that the Church’s authority grows with this ability to defend the dignity of others, to anoint them and to heal their wounds and their frequently dashed hopes. It means remembering that we are here because we have been asked “to preach good news to the poor…to proclaim release to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord” (Lk 4:18-19). Dear brother Cardinals and new Cardinals! In our journey towards Jerusalem, the Lord walks ahead of us, to keep reminding us that the only credible form of authority is born of sitting at the feet of others in order to serve Christ. It is the authority that comes from never forgetting that Jesus, before bowing his head on the cross, did not hesitate to bow down and wash the feet of the disciples. This is the highest honor that we can receive, the greatest promotion that can be awarded us: to serve Christ in God’s faithful people. In those who are hungry, neglected, imprisoned, sick, suffering, addicted to drugs, cast aside. In real people, each with his or her own life story and experiences, hopes and disappointments, hurts and wounds. Only in this way, can the authority of the Shepherd have the flavor of Gospel and not appear as “a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal” (1 Cor 13:1). None of us must feel “superior” to anyone. None of us should look down at others from above. The only time we can look at a person in this way is when we are helping them to stand up. I would like now to share with you a part of the spiritual testament of Saint John XXIII. Progressing in his own journey, he could say: “Born poor, but of humble and respectable folk, I am particularly happy to die poor, having distributed, in accordance with the various needs and circumstances of my simple and modest life in the service of the poor and of Holy Church which has nurtured me, whatever came into my hands – and it was very little – during the years of my priesthood and episcopate. Appearances of wealth have frequently disguised thorns of frustrating poverty, which prevented me from giving to others as generously as I would have wished. I thank God for this grace of poverty to which I vowed fidelity in my youth; poverty of spirit, as a priest of the Sacred Heart, and material poverty, which has strengthened me in my resolve never to ask for anything – money, positions or favours – never, either for myself, or for my relations and friends” (29 June 1954). _________________________ [1] Jesus uses the same verb, proago, when he tells his disciples that he will “precede” them into Galilee (cf. Mk 10:32). [2] Cf. JORGE MARIO BERGOGLIO, Ejercicios Espirituales a los Obispos españoles, 2006. © Libreria Editrice Vatican JUNE 28, 2018 16:31CATHOLIC CHURCH

2 notes · View notes

junker-town · 4 years ago

Text

NFL mock draft 2021: Quarterbacks dominate top of board with one big surprise

Our latest NFL mock draft features a furious run on quarterbacks at the top of the order.

The Miami Dolphins shook up the top of the draft order Friday with a duo of trades with the San Francisco 49ers and Philadelphia Eagles respectively. The order should remain relatively static until draft night, when there will undoubtably be more moves when teams jockey for the player they’re aiming for.

There has been a lot of movement in player rankings after the pro day workouts, so today we dive into the latest where there will be more than a few shocks in the first round.

No. 1: Trevor Lawrence, QB (Clemson) — Jacksonville Jaguars There is nothing that changes at the top of the draft, and for good reason. There is no doubt selecting Lawrence first overall is the correct move, despite hype about other quarterbacks. Lawrence represents the perfect mix of NFL readiness and future potential. He’s everything the Jaguars need to get back on track. This is FINALLY the franchise quarterback Jacksonville has been desperate for.

No. 2 : Zach Wilson, QB (BYU) — New York Jets This pick is a representation of the Jets showing some confidence and betting on themselves. Incoming coach Robert Saleh isn’t beholden to continue the Sam Darnold development project, and the upside of Wilson is too good to pass up. New York will hope it’ll be a long time before they pick top three again, so striking now and getting a passer they believe can become a franchise QB is the correct move.

No. 3: Mac Jones, QB (Alabama) — San Francisco 49ers The bomb drops here and the NFL world is in shock. Rumors abounded that the 49ers liked all the passers at the top of this draft, but nobody thought that meant Mac Jones. Here’s the deal: Trading up to No. 3 to take Jones might seem stupid, but San Francisco has a window that’s still open, and getting a NFL-ready quarterback to step in now keeps it going. Jones might not have the long-term upside of Justin Fields or Trey Lance, but he also doesn’t carry the risk. At worst the 49ers get a low-level NFL starter, and that is too appealing to pass up here.

Gary Cosby Jr via Imagn Content Services, LLC

No. 4: Justin Fields, QB (Ohio State) — Atlanta Falcons I have no doubt the Falcons are fine going in another direction here and waiting to find a QB in the future, but after the 49ers take Jones, the choice becomes obvious. Fields is given a chance to sit for a year in Atlanta behind Matt Ryan and learn the Falcons’ system, an ideal place for him. This is an organization who isn’t afraid to take big swings in the draft to land elite talent, and this falls in that tradition.

No. 5: Penei Sewell, OT (Oregon) — Cincinnati Bengals The bottles will be popping in the Bengals’ war room before this pick is even announced. Never in their dreams did Cincinnati think Sewell would be available at the fifth pick, but the unprecedented run on quarterbacks allowed Sewell to fall. Joe Burrow needs protection, badly, and Sewell will lock down his blindside for the next decade.

No. 6: Trey Lance, QB (North Dakota State) — Carolina Panthers [TRADE] The Panthers had been hoping all offseason that they wouldn’t be making a pick during the draft, instead wishing this pick could be flipped to the Houston Texans in a deal for Deshaun Watson. However, Watson’s off-field issues, paired with a reluctant Houston front office leads to this moment. Miami gains the Panthers’ 2021 second round pick in exchange for falling back two places, with Carolina terrified someone else would jump up to get Lance. The Panthers were heavily scouting Lance at his pro day, and don’t want to enter the season without a long-term plan.

No. 7: Micah Parsons, LB (Penn State) — Detroit Lions This is one of those picks that just makes too much sense. On paper the Lions need more help on offense, but their linebacker corps is slow, and in dire need of an upgrade. Couple that with Detroit’s woeful 26th ranked pass rush, and a new defensive-minded coach who will love Parsons’ versatility out of the gate, and it’s a recipe for success.

No. 8: Jaylen Waddle, WR (Alabama) — Miami Dolphins The newly pick-flush Dolphins have every tool to put together an elite team, assuming they make the rights moves. The defensive side of the ball is coming together well, but in order to take the next step the offense needs a major upgrade. Picking Jaylen Waddle, the draft’s most electric receiver, is just too beautiful considering it reunites him with Tua Tagovailoa. Waddle is a Swiss army knife, who can adapt to passes at all three levels and allow Tagovailoa to find a rhythm with ease.

Photo by UA Athletics/Collegiate Images/Getty Images

No. 9: Caleb Farley, CB (Virginia Tech) — Denver Broncos If this draft broke in a way that allowed the Broncos to get a quarterback I assume they’d go in that direction, but instead of reaching for a passer, Denver waits and gets the best cornerback in the draft. Denver allowed 66 percent of opposing passes to be completed last year, and Farley will go a long way to fixing that.

No. 10: Patrick Surtain II, CB (Alabama) — Dallas Cowboys With Dak Prescott under long-term contract and the offense largely solidified it’s time for the Cowboys to fix their defense. The secondary is an area of major concern, and Surtain is a major talent with stunning size at the position. He’s going to be a leader on defense from day one, and a lockdown corner for the Cowboys.

No. 11: Kwity Paye, EDGE (Michigan) — New York Giants I wish I loved anything in this world as much as Giants GM Dave Gettleman loves large linemen. That said, getting Paye at this spot is a major boon to a pass rush in need of help. Paye is an excellent hand in the dirt 4-3 end with the size and speed to get penetration on speed or power moves.

No. 12: Ja’Marr Chase, WR (LSU) — Philadelphia Eagles There’s a lot of temptation to take DeVonta Smith here, and personally I like Smith better. However, for the fit, Chase works better in the offense the Eagles are building. It remains to be seen how Jalen Hurts will operate as a full time starter, but his legs and creativity will warrant a receiver who is better picking up yards after the catch, and a powerhouse with the ball in his hands, regardless of where he catches the ball. This selection adds more electricity to the burgeoning offense.

No. 13: Rashawn Slater, OT (Northwestern) — Los Angeles Chargers The Chargers hit one of the home runs in the 2020 draft with Justin Herbert, who was electric his rookie season. Now they just need to protect him better. This is an oddly similar situation to Cincinnati, who benefitted from a QB-heavy top to the draft to select someone above their station. Slater would probably go in the 8-11 range in any normal draft, so they’ll be thrilled to get him here and keep Herbert upright more often.

No. 14: Christian Darrishaw, OT (Virginia Tech) — Minnesota Vikings Minnesota needs trench help on both sides of the ball, and a major talent upgrade at cornerback. Right now this board isn’t shaping up for the secondary, with both the top corners taken, and it’s a little early to take an interior defensive lineman. This is all fine though, because the Vikings need serious help at left tackle. The team was forced to release starting left tackle Reilly Reiff due to salary cap concerns, so Darrishaw can step in from day one and start.

No. 15: Kyle Pitts, TE (Florida) — New England Patriots Kyle Pitts is an athletic freak. This is a man who is a 6’6, 240-pound tight end who can run faster than a good chunk of NFL wide receivers, and put the work in as a blocker as well. Bill Belichick has always had an affinity for tight ends in his passing game, and Pitts could be the best he’s ever coached next to Rob Gronkowski. Furthermore, it’s the ultimate “show me what you got” move for Cam Newton. Newton’s best seasons in Carolina were when Greg Olsen was healthy, and Pitts is a player in the same mold who can stretch the field, and serve as a safety net.

Photo by Hannah White/Collegiate Images/Getty Images

No. 16: DeVonta Smith, WR (Alabama) — Arizona Cardinals Yes, the Cardinals need help on defense. Yes, taking a receiver would be a bit of a luxury move. No, I do not think there is any way on this earth Kliff Kingbury sees Smith on the board at his pick and doesn’t select him. Larry Fitzgerald was the sure-handed cornerstone of the Cardinals passing attack for almost two decades, and Smith has that same kind of potential. Putting him across the field from DeAndre Hopkins would immediately lock in Arizona as having the best receiving tandem in the NFL, and continue making Kyler Murray’s transition into the NFL as easy as possible.

No. 17: Azeez Ojulari, EDGE (Georgia) — Las Vegas Raiders A hybrid defender who can fit a lot of roles, Ojujari might be best as home as the Will linebacker in a 4-3, but he has the speed to be moved all around the defense. This is a kind of versatility Jon Gruden will love on the Raiders’ defense, at a position they need more help on in order to make a playoff push.

No. 18: Alijah Vera-Tucker, OG (USC) — Miami Dolphins The Dolphins have multiple picks in this draft because they traded away starting left tackle Laremy Tunsil last year — and haven’t really recovered on the line. It’s unclear exactly where Vera-Tucker projects in the NFL. He started at LT for USC this season, but there are legitimate concerns his lack of arm length will force him to play guard in the NFL. Either way, he’s an excellent, instinctual lineman who help Tua Tagovailoa have a cleaner pocket in his sophomore season.

No. 19: Jaelen Phillips, EDGE (Miami) — Washington Football Team Is it greedy for one of the NFL’s best defenses to keep loading up in spite of the other side of the ball? Yes. Do I think they’d do it? Also yes. There’s a strong likelihood Washington takes a top RB here, but I think a player like Jaelen Phillips would be even more impactful. Najee Harris or Travis Etienne would certainly balance out the offense better, but a rushing rotation of Phillips, Chase Young, and Montez Sweat would be the most terrifying group in the NFL. Ron Rivera is a defensive guy, and that’s a hell of a toolbox to give a coach like that.

No. 20: Jeremiah Owusu-Koramoah, LB (Notre Dame) — Chicago Bears There is a chance the Bears trade up for a quarterback in this draft, but at least for now I’m operating under the assumption they stay put and try for a season with Andy Dalton (yuck). That said, whatever bad taste Dalton leaves on the offense can easily be washed away by adding one of the most explosive defensive players in the draft to a unit already featuring Khalil Mack. Robert Quinn is a decent player opposite him, but now at age 30 the slow down will be happening. Owusu-Koramoah can be a rotational linebacker, even move back and play as a third safety when needed.

No. 21: Rashod Bateman, WR (Minnesota) — Indianapolis Colts The Colts have a major interest in learning quickly whether Carson Wentz can regain his form, and a key part to that is getting him a weapon. Michael Pittman Jr. had a promising first season, but T.Y. Hilton is getting on in age. Bateman has ideal size, athleticism and speed to be a No. 1 receiver for a long time.

No. 22: Baron Browning, LB (Ohio State) — Tennessee Titans The Titans went a long way to helping their defense in free agency by signing Bud Dupree and Janoris Jenkins, but there’s still work to be done. Browning is a prototypical linebacker with great speed and versatility. He can be spelled in his first season without too much pressure being on him to start from the jump, and develop into a defensive cornerstone.

No. 23: Jaycee Horn, CB (South Carolina) — New York Jets Robert Saleh strikes to get a defensive player who can help the Jets immediately. The son of former NFL receiver Joe Horn, Jaycee has great size and speed, and is comfortable being on an island covering a top receiver.

No. 24: Najee Harris, RB (Alabama) — Pittsburgh Steelers There’s debate on who the better running back is between Harris and Clemson’s Travis Etienne, but there’s nobody more Steelers than Harris at the position. A Derrick Henry-esque runner, Harris may not possess Henry’s top gear speed, but he’s still a bruising runner who can pick up hard yards and move the chains. Exactly what the team has been lacking.

Photo by Alika Jenner/Getty Images

No. 25: Teven Jenkins, OT (Oklahoma State) — Jacksonville Jaguars You’ll probably notice a theme here of teams selecting quarterbacks, then getting protection. It’s because it’s just a no-brainer. Jenkins is definitely more of a developmental project than the other tackles taken so far, but he offers tremendous versatility having played almost every position on the line. Jenkins can be moved around, coached up, and help make Trevor Lawrence’s debut easier.

No. 26: Jayson Oweh, EDGE (Penn State) — Cleveland Browns An athletic edge rusher, Oweh perhaps projects more to the role of a 3-4 pass rusher, but we’ve seen that the Browns don’t saddle themselves too much with prototypical size. They’re happy to use speed rushers on the edge, and Oweh can step into the rotation immediately and be spelled with Takkarist McKinley while adjusting to the NFL.

No. 27: Tevon Moehrig, FS (TCU) — Baltimore Ravens The Ravens need a safety, and Moehrig is the kind of impact player they’ll love to tinker around with. Comfortable working the middle, he’s a ball-hawk who will make plays in his area and relish the opportunity to make a play. These are qualities the Ravens love, and they’ll suit him well in Baltimore.

No. 28: Greg Newsome II, CB (Northwestern) — New Orleans Saints The Saints bled talent on both sides of the ball due to difficult salary cap-based cuts. Greg Newsome II helps turn the tide. He’s a raw prospect with tremendous upside, and it’s worth rolling the dice on what Newsome II could become, rather than what he is right now.

No. 29: Kadarius Toney, WR (Florida) — Green Bay Packers Honestly, I just want to see this — because Aaron Rodgers throwing passes to Toney will be FUN (except for opponents). A lightning fast slot receiver, Toney perfectly compliments Davante Adams and gives the Packers some offensive depth. We saw in the NFC Championship what happens when Adams was taken out of the game and Green Bay crumbled. Another big play threat is just what they need.

Photo by Matthew Maxey/Icon Sportswire via Getty Images

No. 30: Gregory Rousseau, EDGE (Miami) — Buffalo Bills A varied, devastating pass rusher, Rousseau can adapt to almost any scheme and make an impact. He’s comfortable working from the outside and inside, giving the Bills a defensive tool to wreck havoc with.

No. 31: Jalen Mayfield, OT (Michigan) — Kansas City Chiefs Do you remember the Super Bowl? Remember how overwhelmed Patrick Mahomes was without Eric Fisher? Remember how bad the rest of that line was? Yeah, I do. Let’s fix it. Mayfield can play either tackle spot to varying degrees of success, or kick inside and be an effective guard.

No. 32: Zaven Collins, LB (Tulsa) — Tampa Bay Buccaneers The Buccaneers don’t have a lot of needs, and the ones they do they tend to fix in free agency. Collins has the ability to play a lot different places and make an impact, allowing Tampa Bay to play around with him until they part ways with veterans and he finds a long-term spot.

0 notes

idonthavewritersblockyoudo · 7 years ago

Text

The Rules of Holding Yourself Together

Rule #1: Exercise at least 5 days a week. Always run at the same time every day, whether this be before or after school.

Rule #2: Track your food intake as accurately as possible.

Rule #3: Do not weigh yourself more than three times a week

Rule #4: If the scale tells you something you do not approve of, do not indulge yourself. Even a pound over is cause for a moment’s consideration into what you put into your body.

Rule #5: Wake up at the same time every day, and do not press the snooze button.

Rule #6: Get to school prior to 6:15 and do your homework in the hour-and-a-half before school

Rule #7: Do not express yourself within school. Express the self you have learned to be safe

Rule #8: Go to bed at the same time every night and have the same routine

Rule #9: Do not tell people the truth about yourself or your life

Rule #10: Do not let people in

Rule #11: Never put yourself into the position of having to shut someone out by never letting them in in the first place

Rule #12: When speaking to your parents, turn into a blank mirror of them when possible

Rule #13: Never question your parents, hold in your opinions

Rule #14: Don’t trust anyone

Rule #15: Contain yourself and do not let others see your emotions

These used to be my cardinal set of rules. Every one of these dictated and ran my life, whether or not I wanted them to. But they were all broken, within a couple months. But not in the order they appear in.

Some of these rules. It’s good I’ve broken them. But some of them, it’s not so good. But either way, I’ve broken them all, and there’s no turning back.

Rule #13: Never question your parents, hold in your opinions

It had been my sixteenth birthday. Usually, a momentous occasion in most girl’s lives. Mine was not. The day itself had been good, I had had multiple excellent interactions at school and I had left feeling happy and overjoyed. The day did not end that way. I remember sitting in front of my house in my father’s car, crying as my father berated me for defending my English teacher’s opinions on teaching. He had dismissed her idea that not having straight-As was okay. He wanted to talk to me about having a B in her class. He belittled me, for defending her after he dismissed her as a person. I loved my sophomore English teacher, and he had torn her and me down in an instant, and me along with her. I didn’t stop crying for the rest of the night. After that day, I never took another ride home from my parents unless it was absolutely necessary. Something inside me broke that day, and I was never quite able to hold my tongue in the same way, remembering the way my father had treated me.

-Rule #4: If the scale tells you something you do not approve of, do not indulge yourself. Even a pound over is cause for a moment’s consideration into what you put into your body.

I stopped eating, at some point. I don’t remember so wholly losing my appetite but I lost fifteen pounds in the months between December and March. I lost my appetite, somewhere along the way. I would find it again in the months to come, but only for need of comfort I could not find anywhere else. For those few months, I lost the will to eat. And with it, I lost the will to justify. I no longer needed to weigh myself to justify eating a bowl of ice cream - I didn’t even want the ice cream. That part of me was lost, and I never wish to regain her. I remember on many occasions standing on that scale and just sobbing because I hated myself so much. Those days are gone.

-Rule #15: Contain yourself and do not let others see your emotions

It had been an inconsequential moment, in the grand scheme of life, but that moment was momentous for me. After my birthday, I had started staying at school every day. I would stay in one of my teacher’s rooms, but once March began so did spring sports and my teacher was a coach. So I moved rooms, to sit in another teacher’s (who I had freshman year) room. I think anyone would be curious as to why someone would rather spend 12 hours at school a day instead of going home. So my old teacher asked me, one day early into March. I told him a little, as much as I was willing to and I kept things vague. “Well, it could be worse, right?” he had asked me. In that moment, that question, cut through my protections. And my face dropped and I played with a origami bird on his desk. “It could be worse, right?” he asked, as if looking for confirmation. I just shrugged, and in that moment I was back in control of myself. But the moment had come and gone and my emotions had shown through. And he had noticed.

-Rule #2: Track your food intake as accurately as possible.

At some point, laziness overtook me. I didn’t feel the need to, I didn’t have the energy to. There was so much going on in my life I couldn’t remember or recall every thing that I had put into my body, every single thing that had graced my lips. As hard as I tried, tracking things like water intake and food amounts. They had always helped me in the past when I binge ate everything in sight, but in losing one aspect of control - food tracking - I found another - a control over eating. I found out how to stop myself and control myself, mainly by just eating nothing at all. I would often forget to eat for hours, or maybe even a full day, drinking just liquids. It was not on purpose in any way, but it broke the habit.

I can’t say it was healthy in any form, to not eat, but it made me less obsessive. Less careful. It was what I needed in that moment, having picked up my sister’s eating disorders and weight-consciousness from her.

Tracking everything I did, and do, helped me hold myself together because everything fell into a rigid pattern. I still track my grades, finances, and mental health by a handwritten chart. I’ve found, one of the best ways to control yourself is to track every single thing you do, by hand and app. The combination of the two is amazing for feeling in control, especially when there are no other aspects of your life you can control.

-Rule #9: Do not tell people the truth about yourself or your life

Breaking these rules, was not an effort simply on my part. In my opinion, I still think he was just curious in the beginning. He didn’t really know me back then, as a person. He just saw me as a former student, a possible future student, some girl who had a lot of emotions and a lot of walls. But you can’t really know someone in that sense. I could have sat in one of his classes every day for three years and joked and talked with him but that doesn’t mean I would ever let him in or that he would ever care for me. I guess I had always trusted him, at least a little bit.

I think in some ways, our closeness just fell together. It wasn’t intentional or thought out, on my part or his. I just needed someone and he happened to be there. I think, if I’d tried to impress him, or tried to get close to him, I never would’ve gotten there in the first place. Things just shook out into the right conditions. He was careful with his words, his questions, cautious of setting me off into a spiral. Gentle, would be the right word.

I think, what made me tell him the truth, was that he reacted well. I never felt uncomfortable telling him something about my life. I always have felt that way around other people. I knew at that time, none of the people I interacted with on a daily basis truly wanted to know about my life. I knew I was a hindrance, an annoyance. It was in the way they teased me, it was in the passive-aggressive comments and the way they ignored my tear-streaked face. It was in the way they would make jokes about my problems, about how my home life was always fucked up, so why should they care about it? I don’t blame them, fully. Fifteen year-olds don’t really know how to deal with their own problems, let alone others. I still blame them for being terrible people, and I hate to admit that I don’t think I ever will forgive them fully. I don’t think that gap will ever be bridged and I will always hold myself back around them.

But my friends actions did cause one thing within me; I was desperate for someone to listen to me. Between my family, who I could barely if at all stand to be around, and my friends who I never felt wanted by, I was desperate for at least one person to just be willing to talk to me openly about my issues. And I found that in him. He would talk to me, give me advice, and he just listened and I never felt like he didn’t care. Even when he wasn’t listening, I never felt ostracized in the same way and I never felt alone. My desperateness mixed with his nosiness caused me to break one of my cardinal rules. And I stopped lying so much. I remember clearly the day I told him about my birthday, that day in April. I remember where I was, the feeling of the cool desk and the sticky spring air. I remember his water bottle and the drawings on the whiteboard behind him and the harsh fluorescent glow. It was a breakthrough, because it was the truth, whole and unfiltered.

He had asked me why I had started staying later at school. With a moment’s hesitation, considering it, I told him the truth. About my birthday, about what my father said to me on the car ride home, the way I had felt like nothing to him or anyone else. And my decision to stop that from happening again, by just walking.

“Why do you ask?” I had asked him, “do you want me to stop sitting in your room?”. I’d said it like a joke but my heart both dropped and leaped into my throat at the same time. I was so used to rejection, why would this be any different? I’d given him the perfect opportunity, if he wanted me out I’d be out of here and never step foot in this room again.

“No,” he said, looking a little surprised. “I just wish you had some place to go home to that you actually liked and felt comfortable in.”

I almost cried when he said that, but instead I just shrugged, taken aback that I hadn’t been pushed away. That had been the first time he really expressed he cared about what happened to me, and I could remember, in that moment, making the decision to stop lying so much. To let down my defenses more about my family.

-Rule #1: Exercise at least 5 days a week. Always run at the same time every day, whether this be before or after school.

I walked home, every day after school after January 23rd. After my birthday. I ended up usually walking home and then immediately running, but eventually that became a drag and a hassle and I just wanted to sleep after that ordeal. So I just stopped running daily. I started going on runs once or twice a week, five or six miles in a day though. I felt fine. I was still walking every day. Everything was okay. I was okay. But I wasn’t okay. Exercise is the best habit to have, even if it sucks for a while being in shape and working out is the best and greatest gift you can give to yourself.

Exercise had been the cardinal rule. The original rule that started it all. Exercise had brought me out of the depths of my first real bout with depression. It was the thing that got me through being truly alone for every moment of my life. I had nothing. I was nothing. I spoke to no one but my parents, every day in and out and I felt like an empty vessel, a dead weight that simply dragged itself down. And exercise helped me out of that. It helped me feel better about myself and better about who I was.

I still walk. Every single evening I walk home from school, like clockwork. I’ve been doing it for almost a year now, although admittedly it wasn’t nearly this cold last year so it’s more of an ordeal now, walking home in 12 (-11C) degree weather. The walking is good for me, it clears my head. I still try and run, now. But it’s a rule I’m sad to have broken. Standalone, it was a good rule.

-Rule #3: Do not weigh yourself more than three times a week

The scale in my house is on the third floor. The whole third floor of my house is my parent’s floor, their library, their bedroom, their walk-in-closets and their bathroom. The scale stands in front of a mirror. That room is always bright, because of the windows and the light heather walls. The light bounces, the room is quiet. Two to three times a week I used to go up there, strip off my clothes, and weigh myself. It was a habit I picked up from my sister, who weighed herself daily the last time I lived with her. She was obsessed with her weight, the number controlled her. And because of how much I looked up to her, that number controlled me.

I didn’t break this rule going over. I just stopped. I stopped weighing myself, I stopped caring. I remember sitting in the Doctor’s office when she told me I’d lost fifteen pounds since December. She asked me if I’d been dieting and I shook my head, genuinely surprised because I didn’t feel any different despite the drop. I couldn’t tell you now what my weight is.

I don’t believe in scales anymore. They can never do anything but make you feel worse about yourself in the long run. Maybe you step on and you love that number now, but you know what? Once that number raises or drops you’ll just hate yourself. And in truth, that number doesn’t fucking matter.

-Rule #14: Don’t trust anyone

Trusting him came naturally. I learned to read him, over time. His worry turned to concern and that concern turned into care and suddenly I knew someone in my real life was actually looking out for me. That the job my parents had thrown into the dirt had been picked up and dusted off by one old teacher. He became my mentor, then more than ever. He made me feel more like a person and less like something to be used by other people. Less like a doll for someone to rant and rave at and more like a person, someone to interact with.

The more time I spent in his room, the happier I felt. The more time I spent away from my friends, the happier I felt. I hadn’t realized it at the time but my friends, the people I had placed trust in, were toxic and terrible. Everything they said and did was like poison to me. I spoke about that, to him, and he had only laughed and rolled his eyes and called them my ‘followers’ because that’s what they were. He still calls them that, when they’re not around sometimes. He’s gotten very good at picking up when I want to be left alone, and he’s also gotten very good on picking up my frustration when I am not left alone. He wrote it in my yearbook, that he forgave me for my ‘noisy followers’ and I couldn’t help but laugh.

I felt so at peace, knowing someone was there that cared about me. And so, I let him in. I remember the day I told him a half-truth. A truth about a specific and terrible event in my life, but not the truth of its causes. Even when I trusted him, I also knew that there are certain lines for teachers, certain things that cannot be said. I’ve always been hyper-aware, hyper-afraid of breaking that line and forcing him to report something. We both knew my family was utter garbage but I just couldn’t tell him how much they were utter garbage, for his sake.

I told him something I’d only told to four people beforehand. I had told one of my best-friends, and she had thrown her arms around me and held my hand and let me cry into her shoulder and it had been exactly what I needed at that moment. And when I told my other best-friend she stared at me and aggressively tore me apart and then shut me out of my friend group because of her inability to deal with me even telling her I had a serious family problem. I’d shut down after that, my faith and trust in other people lost. Months later when I had at least semi-recovered from a wound that still pains me to this day, I worked up the courage to tell one other friend, and my cousin. When I told him, he took it well. He told me to go see a counselor and he told me that everything would be okay and he said he hoped I’d have a good weekend with such sincerity I started to cry a little bit.

It had taken a lot for me to trust him with that but when I did he accepted it, and he accepted the trust and emotions he knew went with it.

-Rule #12: When speaking to your parents, turn into a blank mirror of them when possible

It started with little comments. Things that weren’t necessarily combative, but they quickly turned that way. My relationship with my parents has never been ‘good’ by any means, but it turned worse and worse as time went on. I started to question them, and my anger and frustration for their views started to grow more clear in their words and actions. My father is a truly terrible person, and his words and actions reflected this. His opinions on other people, other races, other genders, other skin colors, other sexual orientations, reflected this.

His views bounced and exemplified my mother, who had been raised as a democrat but somehow had adapted to his views after years of marriage. It frustrates me, to have to listen to the things that come out of their mouths. It upsets me greatly, and genuinely disettles me. That they believe rights should not be equal. That people, unbeknownst to them including their own daughter, shouldn’t get the right to marriage or anything else.

And I stopped being able to hide those feelings. I stopped being able to hide myself and just reflect anything they said back at them, without agreeing or disagreeing. Being blank had always been my mechanism, a safety net for me to fall under, but as their views got more and more radical it became harder for me to try and survive.

It always angered me, when people told me I should yell at my parents, scream at them. Those people don’t understand what it’s like to be truly terrified of the reactions of your parents. I was always afraid of what would happen to me if I spoke out against them - I still am. But now, I have just stopped being able to contain myself. As soon as that rule, of being a mirror, was broken it was broken for good. Just like a mirror, those shattered pieces could not be put back together.

-Rule #7: Do not express yourself within school. Express the self you have learned to be safe

It was one of the early days sitting in his room, when I told him I was queer. He had asked me, gently, if I was okay. And I had told him the truth. I wasn’t. I was upset. I’d watched ‘One day at a time’ the night before on Netflix. I’d watched Elena come out to her mother, and I’d watched her mother accept her with open arms.

“I don’t know what I am right now. And I’m not in any rush to label myself. But I know I like girls. I don’t know if I like guys and I don’t know if I like anyone else but I know I’m not straight. And I also know, that I can never tell that to my parents, because if I told them, my father would never speak to me again,” I had told him. For once, I met someone’s eyes -one of my biggest flaws in human interaction is avoiding eye contact, a trait I picked up from my autistic mother and sister - I met his eyes and in that moment I knew the truth had come out. I was queer. And my parents were homophobic. And he accepted me.

He was the first person I ever actually came out to. I still refuse to label myself any further. I think labels are in large for people who cannot find their own identity, or base a part of themself on that identity. I also see how they change over time. That most of the teens I know who are LGBT have shifted their labels at least three times, if not more. And I don’t see the point. In trying to fit myself to an identity that I will change within six months. I’m still waiting, to find myself, before I decide to stick that label haphazardly across myself. (That is just my opinion. That is not to say it’s right, or holds true for everyone. Just for myself, as a teenager).

With that one step, I forged forward. And I started to let bits and pieces of my personality flow out. I started to let the undercurrent of the real me come out. I talked with my geometry teacher about rap, I asked him for recommendations. I was nice to people I had previously just not spoken to whatsoever, or brushed off. They were nice people, I made a lot of friends. I found welcomeness and acceptance in other people, a girl from my English class first semester, a girl in my Euro and French class. On and on I found people, mostly other LGBT girls, who loved and accepted me for who I was and I felt comfortable expressing myself.

I always had a ‘safe’ version. A personality that wasn’t really me. A try-hard girl who always had to be the best and brightest. Not to prove anything to anybody else. But to prove it to herself. The only way she survived was by working herself to death. She was always worried about the future and always worried about what was to come. She forced herself to work, saying it was the only way she would ever become something.

I let go of that girl, and I let myself shine through. Now, I’m more interested in color-coding my planner than always being right in math class, and I spend more time playing games on my phone than anything else. But that’s okay. I no longer feel the need to be the best at everything, because now I’m more comfortable just being myself in class. Instead of sucking up to my teacher I show him memes and gossip with him about T.V. shows. Instead of doing that extra-credit worksheet in math I sit by the teacher’s desk and trade food with him - me giving him cookies and him giving me goldfish. I’ve found a certain solace, in just letting myself be.

-Rule #10: Do not let people in

I’d let him in. My now-mentor was someone I looked up to and trusted and thought the world of and I felt so much better just knowing someone cared for me because a lot of the time it felt like no one did. I had my best friend, who lives in California, I had my sister, who was at college, and I had my cousin, who I rarely spoke to but loved dearly. But they all were so far away and life is hard and things are busy and it’s so hard even when you love someone with all your heart when they’re fifty or one-hundred or one-thousand miles away. It’s so hard to remember anyone cares about you at all when your whole life is just a toxic negativity.

And then one person came into my life and lifted me up and told me everything was okay and that things would be better and suddenly I had a place to go and a place to feel like I had a home and I knew every inch of his room and I could read his moods as quickly and easily as I could read a book. I knew his own emotions better than I knew mine. He was the father I never got and the person that I knew genuinely cared for me and I loved him. I still love him, the same way all children are supposed to love their fathers. While my own father treated me like dirt and threw me away and never gave me any treatment at all, he cared about me.

And so I let him in. One day, late in June, I looked back and reflected over the past three months and the way my life had changed and all the rules I’d broken and how much happier I was. How happy I felt with just one person looking out for me.

-Rule #5: Wake up at the same time every day, and do not press the snooze button.

Depression solved rules five and eight for me. I had no control, really. I relapsed hard into my depression in August, and everything around me faded away. Reporting my sexual assault, which had happened just before school ended, the perpetrator being another student, I felt empty and lost. I had died. That girl who had come to life the school year before, breaking all her rules and forging ahead, had died. The girl who writes this now is what is left in the rubble, and I can’t say she’s particularly anyone good.

It’s hard, when you’ve broken every other part of your routine, when you feel like never getting up at all. To force yourself to get up at the same time every single day when you don’t really want to go to school. All you want to do is sleep and never wake up, just sleep your life away. This school year I’ve picked up the nasty habit of hitting the snooze button. As I stay up later I push back my alarm, and I can say it’s done nothing but harm to me. But I have very little control, over it anymore. I have very little control over anything it seems.

-Rule #8: Go to bed at the same time every night and have the same routine

It started with little things. A couple minutes here, a couple minutes there. And then, I was staying up until 1 AM, or not sleeping at all. My insomnia, which I had carefully spent years rearing under a strict wake-up and sleep schedule, with specific routines and rituals tried and true to force me to fall asleep within an hour or two, broke and shattered. Once it might take me fifteen minutes to fall asleep, forty five minutes top. Now it takes me usually over an hour and a half, if I get any sleep at all. My routine shattered and so had I.

-Rule #6: Get to school prior to 6:15 and do your homework in the hour-and-a-half before school

This was in part, due to my homeroom teacher. Last year he lived five minutes from school, and would get to school by 6:30 every morning. This year he got married, and he moved to another state, about forty minutes away if traffic is light. He gets in around 7:15 now every morning. There’s another teacher whose room I could sit in, but I don’t really like sitting in her room.

It’s his old room. This school year, he got kicked out of his room. The room I knew so well last year, the room that became my home, became my current history teacher’s room. And it’s not the same anymore. They painted the school, so the yellow walls are gone. The posters and the semi-neat mess that littered his room is gone. The board which had once been covered in drawings was now covered in neat, font-like agenda’s and there was no place in the room for self-expression. The room suffocated me and I hate being in there for the 45 minutes I have to every day. I show up to school at around 7:20 now, twenty-five minutes before school starts.

There’s nothing left for me at school. I used to find peace and solace in the mornings but it’s no longer like that. I can’t focus on my work and with my fluctuating sleep schedules, I saw no point in continuing it so I dropped the idea as a whole.

His room had been my home, and now it’s gone. I still sit with him, in the main office for his department where there are just desks in a cramped room, and I just do my work in silence, but it’s not the same. I felt safe in his room even when he wasn’t in there, when it was just me in there for three hours because he had a meeting. I would sit in there all alone and be at complete peace, he was gone most days anyway because he’s very busy. I loved his room, and when that room was torn away from me a piece of me went with it. Now I sit in that office, but I never feel as safe and as at-ease as I had in that room.

-Rule #11: Never put yourself into the position of having to shut someone out by never letting them in in the first place

God. Why had I ever let him in? I still adored him and I still looked up to him but now things were harsh and cold. Not made better by the fact my friend attached to him like a leech and the toxicity I had spent months escaping from and working myself free of nine months earlier attacked every single part of my life. Any time I spent near him she was there, drawing his attention and parading around and in everything I did and every word I spoke I felt her presence, her invasion and intrusion into my life. I knew she was trying to take it away from me. The one good relationship I had in my life she had splayed herself across, trying to lap up all the attention. I didn’t even hate her for it. I was just miserable due to it. I let it happen too, I watched it. I don’t even know why I didn’t stop it, didn’t scream or yell at her. I just let it happen, let her walk over me like so many times before.

But I was there. And I didn’t feel like I could trust him, not anymore. It all boiled down to one moment. He had been my soccer coach, too. I was the only goalie on the team, and in a game two days prior one girl on the other team had bashed in my finger badly. I knew something was wrong with it I’ve broken multiple fingers - including that one - in the past and I know a serious pain from a minor one. I told him what had happened and asked to see the trainer and he looked at me and said ‘if it hurts when you bend it don’t bend it that way’. And in that moment I shut down. Every part of me shut down. I could barely speak, barely form a response, and when I went back to my warmups I started to cry, silently. It was something my father would’ve said, and the words coming out of his mouth shut me down.

I couldn’t look at him for a week.

And so I watched, as once the only person who actually cared about me in my everyday life was torn away from me. As someone who could never replace me tried to. I knew she wouldn’t succeed, that she never really will get as close with him. She doesn’t know him, and what she expects out of him isn’t something she’ll get. But either way she tried her best to tear him away from me and I could barely breathe as I watched her try to become me. I could barely breathe as I felt my life spiral out of control. I tried to regain control, but it didn’t work. In a moment of sudden realization, I came to the conclusion the fifteen rules I had always silently and religiously followed had been broken in the span of a few short months.

I couldn’t handle it. My depression and never being able to talk to him and never feeling safe at school and not having his room or my safety net of all my little habits and religiously followed rules and with one quick tap I fell apart and shattered. Shattered into my depression, I fell into it like nothing I ever had before and now I just stare and I just feel empty most of the time and I am no one and nothing. For months I barely spoke with him.

Now we’re closer again. It took me a while, to realize he was angry. To realize his actions were not those of someone who didn’t care about me, but something completely different. The reason he acted the way he did was because he was angry, about my sexual assault and all the bullshit in my life and everything that was constantly being thrown at me. He was angry where the shattered pieces of myself couldn’t be. I could tell as much, by the way his eyes lit up and the way he spoke about the boy who assaulted me, when he swore in front of me because he was so pissed after I opened up to him about my depression, and he talked about ‘all the shit you have to go through’.

It took me a very long time to trust him, and I was so quick to shut him out in the after-effects. I understood why I had never let people in, because it always ended badly. And I had cried when I thought things had ended the same way with him, that everything just falls apart in the end even with the people I loved most. And after months, I realized that he still cared about me and he pulled through in the end and things may have fallen apart but they fell back together in the end and I still cry about that.

I think in the end, these rules were what held me together. Carefully constructed to hold me together, the image of me painted on a canvas. And I slashed them to bits. It freed me, but when things fell apart again I had nothing to fall back on, and it caged me. I think, most people don’t need rules like these. But I think, I do. Because I have so little control over my life and everything around me - rules are rules for a reason. Some are meant to be broken for the better, but others for the worse. Too many rules and you’re choking, but not enough and you’re falling apart.

#writing #original writing #memoir #mentor #depression #id's writing #id talks

15 notes · View notes