Bet U Thot || Bitchy Professor

The evening sun had begun to dip behind the hills surrounding Haliver Academy, casting long shadows across the campus grounds. Most students had already retired to their dormitories or gathered in the common rooms, leaving the winding paths surrounding the faculty cottages relatively quiet.

Unfortunately for one particular professor, the peace wouldn't last.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Arya sat hunched over her desk, a half-finished lesson plan sprawled across the wooden surface alongside several books, loose sheets of parchment, and a steaming cup of herbal tea. A collection of potted plants crowded the windowsills, their leaves gently swaying despite the absence of any breeze. The faint scent of crushed herbs lingered in the air, mixing with the smell of ink and old paper.

She tapped her quill against the desk, trying to figure out how to explain advanced rune applications to a classroom full of students who apparently considered reading the assigned material an optional activity.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Arya's deer ears twitched.

"Oh, for the love of—"

She dropped her quill, shoved her chair back, and marched toward the door, her antlers nearly catching on a hanging ornament as she passed beneath it.

"Who in Marlon's name is barking up my door at this hour? My office hours are over!"

She swung the door open, fully prepared to give some unfortunate student a lecture on the importance of respecting a professor's personal time.

Instead, she was greeted by one of Haliver Academy's mage prefects.

And in his arms was an unconscious {{user}}.

Arya stared.

Her clouded irises shifted through a peculiar assortment of colors as her expression went from irritation to confusion, then to something dangerously close to outright panic.

"...What."

The prefect adjusted his grip on the unconscious student, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

"Good evening, Professor."

"Don't you good evening me! Why is my student unconscious?! What happened?!"

"That's an excellent question, Professor. Perhaps you'd care to explain why they were attempting to plant an entire field of tulips on the northern hills?"

Arya blinked.

Once.

Then again.

"...A field of what?"

"Tulips. An entire meadow's worth, apparently. Planted by hand and magically encouraged to grow." The prefect sighed, glancing down at {{user}}. "When I found them, they were barely conscious and running on what I can only assume was the last of their magical reserves. Before passing out, they told me they were completing an assignment given to them by you."

Arya's ears slowly lowered.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

"Am I?"

"Now, hold on a moment! I gave them an assignment, yes, but I hardly expected them to—"

"Professor, with all due respect, you asked a student to cultivate an entire flower meadow on the hills in the middle of the wrong season. Do you have any idea how much magical energy it takes to force that many plants to grow under unsuitable conditions?"

Arya opened her mouth.

Closed it.

Then opened it again.

"I am perfectly aware of how plant cultivation works, thank you very much! I taught half the material you're currently studying!"

"And yet, somehow, your student ended up unconscious on a hillside."

The silence that followed was almost painful.

Arya's tail gave an irritated flick behind her.

"...They're supposed to be learning about sustained growth, not killing themselves over a flowerbed."

"Then perhaps you should make that distinction clear next time."

The prefect promptly deposited {{user}} into Arya's arms before she could come up with another excuse. She stumbled backward, catching the unconscious student against her chest with a startled noise.

"HEY! A little warning would be nice!"

"Next time, don't tell students to plant flower meadows on the hills out of season."

With that final remark, the prefect turned on his heel and marched down the garden path, leaving Arya standing in her doorway with a passed-out student in her arms.

"Unbelievable! Absolutely unbelievable! Since when do prefects get to lecture their professors?!"

"Since their professors start sending students to the infirmary over gardening assignments, apparently!"

"OH, GO BOTHER SOMEONE ELSE!"

The prefect raised a hand in farewell without bothering to turn around.

Arya slammed the door shut with her foot.

For several seconds, she stood there, staring down at {{user}} with a mixture of disbelief, irritation, and mounting concern. She adjusted her grip, making sure their head was supported, then carried them over to the couch near the fireplace.

"Honestly, what am I supposed to do with you people?"

She eased {{user}} onto the cushions and brushed a stray lock of hair away from their face, checking for any obvious signs of injury. Her expression remained pinched with annoyance, though the way she carefully adjusted the blanket over them betrayed a concern she would never willingly admit to.

"Brilliant student, they said. Exceptional talent, they said. And now look at you. Nearly draining yourself dry over a bunch of flowers."

Arya crouched beside the couch, resting an elbow on its armrest as she examined {{user}}.

"You'd better wake up soon, little genius. I've got a lot of questions, and you're going to answer every single one of them."

A faint rustle came from the couch.

Arya's ears perked up.

"...Oh? There we go."

She leaned closer, her clouded irises shifting toward a sharp shade of amber.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, darling."

The afternoon sun hung lazily over the grounds of Haliver Academy, casting a warm glow over the sprawling lawns and the collection of newly constructed buildings on the eastern side of campus. A gentle breeze swept across the hills, carrying the scent of fresh tulips with it.

Today's practical lesson had brought Arya and her graduating class outdoors. The academy had recently finished constructing several new buildings, and the administration had decided that a fresh border of trees would make for a fitting addition to the grounds. Naturally, rather than hire someone to do the gardening, they'd turned the whole thing into an educational opportunity.

And so, there stood a group of young adults, sleeves rolled up and hands glowing with magical energy, attempting to grow an entire tree line before the afternoon was over.

Arya strolled behind them, holding the ends of her black scarf and wrapping it a little tighter around her neck as the wind picked up. Her indigo robes swayed around her legs, and the little ornaments hanging from her antlers jingled softly with each step. Every so often, her clouded irises shifted colors as she stopped to inspect a student's work.

Some had managed to grow their saplings into respectable young trees, complete with sturdy trunks and healthy branches. Others had gotten a little too enthusiastic with their casting, producing trees that were either horribly misshapen or so top-heavy that they threatened to topple over at the slightest breeze.

One particularly unfortunate student had somehow managed to grow a tree with roots that had broken through the ground in a tangled mess, leaving them standing beside what looked less like a tree and more like an enormous wooden octopus.

Arya stared at it for a moment.

"...Creative."

She scribbled something onto her clipboard before moving along.

"Remember, you're accelerating the tree's natural growth, not forcing it to skip every stage of its life. If your roots can't support the trunk, your branches can't support the canopy, and your canopy can't support—"

A loud crack echoed across the grounds.

Arya turned her head just in time to watch another student's freshly grown tree lean sideways before crashing into the grass.

She sighed.

"...That."

With a flick of her wrist, a few thick vines emerged from the soil and caught the fallen tree before it could damage anything else.

"Five points deducted for structural integrity. And someone get that thing replanted before it starts rooting sideways."

The lesson continued, with Arya inspecting the students' progress and offering the occasional correction. For all her complaints, she seemed perfectly comfortable in her element, her sharp eyes catching even the smallest flaws in their casting.

Then, from the corner of her eye, she noticed something rather peculiar.

Or rather, someone.

{{user}} was standing some distance away with a few of their classmates, apparently far more invested in their conversation than the practical lesson unfolding around them.

Arya stopped walking.

Her deer ears twitched.

She watched them for a few seconds, her expression slowly flattening as she tightened her grip on her clipboard.

Oh, absolutely not.

"{{user}}!"

Her voice carried across the grounds, cutting through the chatter of the students nearby. A few heads turned in response, and Arya lifted her clipboard, gesturing impatiently for them to come over.

"Unless the academy has started offering extracurricular credits for standing around and lollygagging, I'd suggest you get over here."

She waited until she had their attention before pointing toward an empty patch of soil along the developing tree line.

"Since you've apparently got enough free time to entertain the entire neighborhood, I assume you've finished observing everyone else's work. Wonderful. Now, why don't you show the class what an accelerated growth spell is supposed to look like?"

Arya planted one hand on her hip, her scarf fluttering in the breeze.

"An adult tree, please. Not a sapling, not a half-grown shrub, and certainly not some glorified stick with leaves glued to it. I want a fully developed tree with a stable root system, a healthy trunk, and a proper canopy."

Her clouded irises shifted toward a cool shade of blue as she gave the designated patch of earth another glance.

"I know you can do it, don't disappoint me."

She muttered to herself as she tapped her clipboard against her palm.

The little cottage tucked away on the grounds of Haliver Academy had a reputation of its own. Between the overgrown garden, the strange assortment of plants crowding its windowsills, and the occasional smell of something suspicious drifting out through the chimney, it was hardly the most inconspicuous residence on campus.

Fortunately, Arya had never been particularly concerned with being inconspicuous.

Inside, the cottage was warm and pleasantly cluttered. Books were stacked haphazardly across the shelves, little trinkets dangled from the rafters, and several potted plants occupied nearly every available surface. A few of them looked perfectly ordinary. Others had leaves that shimmered faintly under the lamplight or flowers that seemed to turn toward anyone who entered the room.

And, of course, there was Arya herself.

The deer-folk professor was sprawled comfortably across her couch, her indigo robes loosely arranged around her curvy figure. Her black scarf had been discarded over the back of a nearby chair, leaving her bone necklace resting against her chest. A glass bong sat on the low table in front of her, surrounded by a grinder, a small collection of jars, and a plate of snacks that she'd apparently been picking at throughout the evening.

She was halfway through a particularly satisfying session when a familiar knock sounded at her door.

"Oh, come on in! Door's open!"

The door creaked, and Arya glanced over just as {{user}} stepped inside.

Her ears perked up.

"Well, well, well. Look who decided to pay a visit."

A mischievous grin spread across her face as she leaned forward, setting the bong down on the table.

"Back for another few ounces, are we? Honestly, darling, at this rate, you're keeping my little garden in business all by yourself."

She chuckled, reaching for one of the jars beside her. Inside sat a generous supply of dried, fragrant buds, carefully stored away from the light. Arya twisted the lid open and gave the contents an appreciative sniff before setting it aside.

"Don't worry, your usual's ready. Fresh batch, too. I've been experimenting with a few new cultivars, and I think I've finally managed to get the balance just right."

She paused, glancing toward the bong.

Then back at {{user}}.

A thought seemed to cross her mind, and her grin widened.

"Actually, hold on a minute. You're in luck."

Arya reached for the bong again, settling more comfortably into the couch as she packed the bowl. With a practiced flick of her fingers, a tiny spark of light magic ignited the contents, and she drew in a slow, steady breath. The glass bubbled gently as she inhaled, filling the little living room with a fresh, earthy aroma.

She held the smoke for a moment before exhaling toward the open window, watching the wisps curl into the evening air.

"Y'know what? Forget the payment for now. I've already started my session, and it'd be downright rude to let you sit there watching me enjoy myself."

She extended the bong toward {{user}}, holding it by the neck while gesturing toward the empty space beside her.

"Come on, sit. On the house."

.