Chaotic Academia Novels & Stories

"You're too beautiful, Cara, sometimes the sight of you almost drives me crazy myself." I couldn't hold back the skeptical smile that appeared on my face. Alex's body staggered a little but he tried to keep his balance, with an annoyed snort he continued his speech again. "Now I have to get rid of two Strav- Stratvas-" He paused, looking frustrated at not being able to pronounce the name 'Stratovsky'. If it wasn't for his cute expression right now, I might have kicked him out of my room. Alex cleared his throat. "Now I have to get rid of those two bastard brothers. Then who else should I get rid of after them ... It's all because of your pretty face."

“Dear Chaos Diary, This is exactly how I feel my university life is: chaos. The weeks go by and nothing uncomplicates. On the contrary, chaos seems to increase. Peter dumped his revelation in my lap as if I was somehow to blame for his feelings or as if I was able to resolve them for him. Max suddenly makes a jealous little act, like he's seventeen instead of forty. And now, to complete the hurricane, we have Stephen, who wasn't content with being a walking temptation of a teacher either, to make matters worse, he let out a flirtation at me in the middle of the cafeteria. I don't know what will become of me in the coming semesters within this university. Part of this is my fault for giving i

Documents. Everywhere I look, only documents. A papery grave as sharp as any blade or sword. I had always had a problem being organized, even when I was a teacher at the Chadel Royal Academy. It had almost cost me my job a couple of times. Lucky for me, I had an eager little student. She wasn't really little, but she worked hard to make a name for herself. It was a... peaceful time at the academy—past tense. Everything went to shit when Julius Darcey showed up.

“The anomaly. The Devourer. The girl who thinks C-minus work on The Great Gatsby is acceptable. It wasn't, by the way. Your thesis was derivative.” I blinked. “We’re being hunted by time-traveling alien werewolves, and you’re grading my paper?” “I’m an academic, Ms. Night. Standards must be maintained even during the apocalypse.” He turned his gaze to Mira. “And you. The Interface.” Mira squeaked. “Hi. I hacked your toaster. Sorry.” “Fascinating,” Ajax muttered, standing up and shuffling toward us. “The dormant gene activation. I theorized it, but seeing it… marvelous.”

“You’ve seemed distracted this morning.” “That obvious?” “You nearly wrote the word cryptid across three separate pages of notes.” I looked down at my open bag immediately. Sure enough, the word appeared repeatedly in messy, aggressive cursive in the margins of my notebook. Fantastic. Absolute academic excellence. “I’m going through a weird week,” I mumbled, shifting my weight. Professor Smith’s expression shifted slightly. It wasn't amusement. It was deep, calculating interest. “Sometimes,” he said carefully, leaning forward over his desk, “the things that unsettle us are the things we’re closest to understanding.”

Uno asked warily. Xhe hummed, "An eccentric", they answered. "An interesting one", they stated. Uno hummed at the cryptic answer and nodded. "Why do you want to go to this Academy? Tobias' Institute can provide you with an education you can be proud of", he stated, "Why go to a mysterious school we haven't even heard of?" he asked quietly.

The world tilted. Head of Literature. That meant… that meant my Literature Department. The one I was enrolled in. The one where I had classes starting next week. The one where I would be seeing him, not across a dimly lit bar, but across a lecture hall. Or worse, in a small seminar room, his storm cloud eyes dissecting my essays. Fuck. A cold dread seeped into my bones, chilling me far more effectively than the air conditioning. This wasn't just a random, incredibly hot, incredibly reckless one night stand. This was a direct collision course with my academic future. My scholarship. My entire carefully constructed life.

"Go to your room young lady this conversation is over" "Dad-" "This conversation is over!" He said more loudly in a finite tone. Alexis stood gently and limped up the stairs to her room. She had so much energy left in her she wanted to break something, kill someone… She wanted to be free. Her life had always been perfect, perfectly scheduled, go to high school get straight As, go to College get degrees, go to business school grow the company, go to your room get married. She had been living life by the book, she wanted more, there was more to it if there wasn't what was the point of living?

Before entering the school, I heard a few things about this mysterious place situated on the mountainous side of Mystic Heights, a city in the heart of London. Mystic Academy, as it was known, was a mixed school primarily for kids with some uniqueness from wealthy homes. The requirements to get in seemed unattainable for mere humans, as I learned. It had a reputation as a school for "freaks," and the general belief was that only freaks would gain admission. That label didn't bother me much, considering I'd been called a freak all my life by my stepmother and her children—even their friends. My stepmother often locked me up in the cellar, praying for God to unpossess me, as she believed I was

But it was genuine work and Isa felt she put considerable effort into it. After sifting through cringe-y articles on past 50 Shades of Grey hype, Isa eventually found original academic literature on subjects ranging from Stockholm syndrome to gender and submissive behaviors. There was a genuine research and science to this - and without realizing it, she had selected some of her professor's own work. It only dawned on her as she created and edited her works cited.