#taking notes and making citations and all

[guiltyofbitchcraft]

Hey, educators! If you're seeing this, please do not do this! The posters above are well meaning but I don't believe they're fully thinking this through.

For one, this is concept only works if you ignore disabled students. I'll use my own case as an example but I have EDS and a multitude of other issues that come with that, one of which being that after a few sentences it's really painful to hand write things! Not only that my handwriting drastically deteriorates the longer I push myself. It's not fun and one of my disability requirements I've had at each and every one of my schools since high school is that I get technology access for taking notes and doing written assignments. This is just one of a million reasons a student might need to type out their assignments. There's also a very good possibility you have students who have needs that make it easier for them to type out assignments but they aren't official recognized or diagnosed. Secondly, Blue Book written assignments cannot replace all written assignments. While they are really good for testing students ability to think quickly and organize their thoughts short term that does not replace the skills long term essay writing creates. If you want to encourage your students to become scholars and writers they'll need to learn to hone skills beyond a blue book exam. That's not even touching on how hand written essays make things like citations so much harder to teach and for your students to apply.

Also just because some professors are willing to struggle through terrible handwriting doesn't mean all are. There's some truly illegible handwriting out there and yes while more hand written assignments would help with that (although it'd be more useful to the students in earlier years rather than in later education) also consider the amount of extra work you're asking both the professor and the student to do? Hand writing takes a lot more time than typing, and students who have bad hand writing probably know it and know that the illegibility has a good chance at affecting their grade. (Also like very minor note but like please also don't forget about what a pain it is for left handed students to do blue book style exams. We know our hand smears the entire text but we can't do anything about it) I get it, AI is really becoming a problem but I don't think the solution is to make your students do more work when they're already not keeping up with the work load they have. You think they won't learn to cheat on written exams? People have before, it'll just be brought back. I'm sorry to tell you guys but there is no easy solution to this. The way towards a solution will take patience, trust, and a lot of work. It'll require a lot more realistic and genuine conversations about AI and trust with your students, it'll require going back to a system that allows students to fail in a safe environment rather than pushing them onto the next level when they're nowhere near ready. What isn't the solution is making education both inaccessible and more distrusting of the people it's supposed to help.

An ex-colleague of mine was complaining to me the other day about the ai problem in her students' papers, and I told her, "Just make your students hand-write them in class. Easy." She looked at me like I was insane and tried to explain how that would never work, but I just said,"That's how we did it for a thousand years. The invention of word processors doesn't erase all that."

To me it seems obvious. Readings are done out of class, handwritten essays are done within it. No more ai papers.

[antichilde]

margin of error: part 5

satoru gojo x fem reader, 2.1k words mdni

in which gojo figures it out

contents: teaching assistant!gojo, student!reader, no curses, college au, slight age difference (gojo is 20, you are a couple years older), he falls first, no smut (for now)

notes: Oh my god so much retconning. Gojo’s date has a name now. It was getting ridiculous referring to her as ‘his date’ all the time so my dumb ass named her Hana, conveniently forgetting that there’s a JJK character named Hana. Now she’s Manami (aka Geto’s secretary from JJK 0) because I may or may not have a weakness for her. (image citation)

part one | part two | part three | part four | read on ao3

The ache in Gojo’s chest has yet to go away. At first he doesn’t mind it, but as time passes the feeling begins to grate on his nerves like an itch he can’t quite scratch. It’s worse when you’re around so he tries to keep his distance outside of tutoring you. 

He also tries to distract himself. That’s how he ends up nursing a cider in the corner of a Halloween party he doesn’t really feel like attending. It’s too loud, and though the room is dark there’s some kind of disco ball throwing fragments of sickly orange and purple light onto the walls, meaning that Gojo is stuck wearing his glasses all night. 

He eyes Geto from across the room, watching him chat with a couple of kids they’d gone to high school with. No, he’s not quite desperate enough to go join that conversation, though with how things are going it’s only a matter of time. And what about you? What are you doing tonight? Did you stay in and get takeout like you’d planned? That sounds pretty appealing right about now, much more so than standing here avoiding eye contact with people he knows. 

Okay, he thinks, finishing off the last of his drink. Enough of this. 

He can’t keep thinking about you; it defeats the whole purpose of going out. Heading for the kitchen, he takes the opportunity to scan the room for familiar faces. There are quite a few— after all, Gojo spends a lot of his nights this way, though he usually feels much more enthusiastic about it than he does now. Eventually his eyes find their way to a bored looking girl loitering by the kitchen counter. The same girl, in fact, whom he’d been with when you’d inadvertently crashed his date. 

“Manami!” he calls, and she looks up.

Her face clouds with several emotions as he draws nearer: surprise, confusion, and finally irritation. Well, that was to be expected, given that their last encounter hadn’t ended well. 

“Gojo.” She doesn’t sound particularly pleased to see him. “What are you doing here?”

“Good question,” he says with a grimace. “I’ll let you know when I figure out an answer. What about you?”

She shrugs, taking a sip of her White Claw. “My campus was dead tonight, so I figured I’d try my luck here.”

 “Doesn’t seem like you’re having much fun.”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “I can’t say this is my idea of a good time.”

“Not much of a partygoer?”

“Parties are fine. It’s making small talk with a guy who ghosted me that I’m not a fan of.”

Gojo winces, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I probably deserve that.”

She finishes off the last of her drink. “Not probably. Definitely. Though I’ll admit that it’s nice to have someone to talk to. I don’t know anyone else here apart from Suguru.”

Pausing, Manami crushes her can and tosses it into the recycling bin. Gojo’s brows knit together as he frowns. 

“So you came here by yourself?” he asks. “I know it’s pretty safe on campus, but don’t you think that’s kind of risky?”

“Aw, you’re worried. That’s nice.” Her voice is saccharin but she’s clearly unimpressed. Reaching around him, she plucks a bottle of water from the plastic wrapped set on the counter. The lid cracks softly as she twists it, the sound barely audible over the music filtering in from the other room. “No, I didn’t come here alone. My roommate was with me, though I think she’s already gone home with someone.” 

“And are you planning on doing the same?”

“Maybe, but don’t get your hopes up,” she says, waving the question off. “I haven’t thought that far ahead… though if you keep groveling I might consider it. It’s not like I have anything better to do.”

 Don’t get your hopes up. Funny how he’s been hearing that so much lately. Even so, he’s pretty sure he knows where this interaction is going, and though he hadn’t planned on hooking up with anyone tonight it’s not like it was off the table altogether. Maybe this is what he needs.

pretty_blue_eyes: I’m heading out early

pretty_blue_eyes: You brought a key right?

suguroo: I have one. Everything ok?

pretty_blue_eyes: Yeah all good. I’m bringing someone home just a heads up

suguroo: Hmm

suguroo: Ok

pretty_blue_eyes: ??

suguroo: Dw about it. I’ll see you later

They end up back at his apartment tangled up on the couch. Manami’s body is draped over his own, his hands settled at her waist as he presses slow, lazy kisses along her jawline. He’s been saying all the right things, going through all the right motions, but it’s still not enough to keep his mind from wandering. Gojo knows she’s on to him well before she pulls back, planting a hand on either side of his shoulders and lifting herself just far enough to get a good look at him.

“Is everything okay?” he asks. He can’t make out much of her expression, not with the way her hair is falling around his face. It blocks most of the faint light filtering in through the windows.

“You tell me.”

Yeah, she definitely knows, but Gojo isn’t ready to drop his guard quite yet. 

“What do you mean?” he asks. Manami exhales in annoyance, sitting back on her heels. 

“I’m not an idiot, Gojo. I can tell you’re distracted. It’s that girl, isn’t it? The one from the restaurant?”

His mouth goes dry, and Manami’s expression falters when she realizes he isn’t going to reply. Without the curtain of her hair in the way Gojo has a front row seat to the hurt he’s caused; he doesn’t know why it bothers him so much to see the way her face falls. Honesty isn’t something that comes naturally to him, especially when there are potential consequences, but right now the idea of brushing aside her question makes him feel queasy. 

Still, it takes him a long moment to find his voice again. 

“Is it that obvious?”

“No,” she says, then pauses to reconsider. “Actually, yeah, now that I think about it.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Gojo takes a deep breath to try and regulate himself. Manami’s position is threatening to give him pins and needles but that’s the last thing on his mind right now. 

“And what exactly is it…” He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “…What is it that you think is obvious?”

“It’s obvious that you like her. Really like her.”

Gojo can feel his pulse racing. He’s not ready to talk about this, not yet, but at the same time his head is filled with so many things he wants to say. 

Manami fiddles with the ends of her long hair, twisting the strands together. “I think I knew then too. When she came up to the table something about you changed. It was like… like you were taking notes in your head, and seeing that made me realize that your mind is always somewhere else when we’re together. I know we’ve never been serious, or exclusive, or anything like that. But in the moment I guess it hit me pretty hard.”

She stops, her eyes meeting Gojo’s when he finally opens them. This time she’s the one who looks away first.

“I shouldn’t have said those things. I’m not usually the kind of person who tears down other women but I took out my anger on her and that was fucked up. I’m sorry.”

The silence that stretches between them is awkward. Manami’s body tenses, her weight shifting as she struggles not to fidget, and though Gojo wishes he could mollify her with an ‘it’s fine, don’t worry about it’, she’d been honest with him. The least he can do is meet her halfway. 

“I owe you an apology as well. For ghosting you, and for using you as a way to distract myself from…”

He stops, unsure how to finish that sentence, but she understands anyway. 

“Thank you,” she says. “I needed to hear that. And I should probably get off of you now.”

Sliding off his lap without waiting for a response, she settles on the opposite side of the couch and pulls out her phone, presumably to text her ride home. Gojo sits up, wincing as the feeling returns to his legs, and though a long silence stretches between them he’s grateful that some of the tension has dissipated from the air. 

“You want to talk about it,” she says at last. It’s an observation, not a question, but even so Gojo nods in confirmation.

“Yeah.” He rakes a hand through his hair, sighing. “Yeah, I think I do. Would that be too weird?”

Manami shrugs, reaching for her purse. “I was the one who brought it up, so if it’s weird then I guess I’m equally to blame.”

Pulling out a compact mirror, she dabs at her smudged lip gloss. Gojo can feel there’s some around his mouth too, tasting it when he bites his lip in thought. Watermelon flavored, if he had to hazard a guess. 

“I don’t know,” he says, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “It’s not like it’s that serious. I only met her back in August, though I don’t know if that even counts since it took her a whole month to learn my name.” 

Manami clears her throat, trying and failing to stifle a laugh. He ignores her, though if he were in her position he’s sure he’d find it funny too. 

 “It’s just that she makes me so nervous, but I keep chasing the feeling anyway. I have no idea why.”

“Gojo.” 

The sound of his name snaps him out of his own head and he turns to look at Manami. “Yeah?”

“Have you never had a crush before?”

“I have,” he says, sounding more defensive than he means to. “I had one back in freshman year.”

…of high school. 

Gojo chooses to leave that piece of information out. He also decides to withhold the fact that it had been on Geto. That’s a story for another time and place.

“But I guess it has been awhile,” he admits. “I don’t remember it being this stressful.”

She snaps the compact shut and drops it into her bag, rummaging around for a moment before pulling out her lip gloss. 

“I dunno,” she says, her voice muffled as she purses her lips to apply a new coat. “It sure sounds like a crush to me. Getting flustered, butterflies, et cetera— that’s all pretty standard.”

He buries his face in his hands, trying to will away his blushes. Manami slips the strap of her purse over one shoulder as she prepares to get up.

“It’s not a bad thing, you know.” Her voice is softer than it had been, nice in a way he knows he doesn’t deserve. “It’s stressful, yeah, but there’s nothing wrong with letting yourself feel things sometimes.”

Getting to her feet, she looks down at him, and their eyes meet as he lifts his head. 

“I should go,” she says. “I hope things work out for you, Gojo.”

“Thanks. And thank you for listening. You were right, I needed to talk about it.”

She turns away and he stands to walk her to the door. Gojo’s ready to end the conversation there, but as Manami reaches for the door handle he realizes there’s one more thing he needs to ask. “Hey, you won’t mention this to anyone, right?” He avoids her gaze, focusing instead on his umbrella. It’s still leaning against the doorframe, untouched since the night he’d walked you home. “Nobody else knows.”

“If by ‘this’ you mean your crush, then don’t worry. I won’t say anything.” One corner of her mouth twitches up as she tries not to smile. “Though I doubt it’ll make much of a difference. I have a feeling you might actually be the last person to figure it out.”

Laughing at his noise of indignation, Manami turns away, zipping up her coat as she makes a beeline for the car idling outside. A gust of chilly autumn wind ruffles Gojo’s hair and he shuts the door quickly before any more heat can escape the apartment. Pulling out his phone, he logs into his messaging app to unblock Manami, but stops when he sees his texts with Suguru are still open.

pretty_blue_eyes: I’m bringing someone home just a heads up

suguroo: Hmm

suguroo: Ok

pretty_blue_eyes: ??

suguroo: Dw about it. I’ll see you later

He turns off his phone and slips it back into his pocket, leaning against the door and shutting his eyes. Yeah, Manami was right, wasn’t she? Gojo is definitely the last to know.

[aeide-thea]

truly just SUCH a typical tumblr experience but like.

Familiar Tumblr Name makes a post that's like: 'you know how fast fashion perpetuates itself by selling us clothing that gets dingy and grody really fast, so we have to replace it yearly?'

me: uh, no, actually—historically i've found that the few fast fashion pieces i acquired long outstayed their welcome, and were perfectly wearable long after i was heartily sick of them! but go on, i guess

FTN: 'let me tell you about this traditional domestic wisdom (implied: that's been lost because of, uh, capitalism) that will fix this problem (that you, too, definitely have) for you!'

me, googling: okay so this residue that FTN said was somehow a Fast Fashion thing is apparently generally caused by like. fabric softener and/or hard water. using discount detergents that skimp on active ingredients. using too much detergent so it doesn't wash out. letting your bedding go too long between washes. letting your washer go too long between cleans. etc. anyway. lots of specific factors here, many of which may in fact not apply to you in particular!

but like. why get specific when instead we could assert You Know This Problem, Right? This Lost Traditional Wisdom Will Definitely Help You Personally!!

[mysticalmagickial]

We're not supposed to be able to live without romance?

Ha-ha! We defy you, uptight importance of the world! We know a secret you don't. We have evil little schemes and malicious little plans and they're working.

Call us witches. Call us evil masterminds. Call us tragic; but we are not bound to the terms of this life. We've searched and experimented and found, and we continue to find, and share, and love. Just not in the way that you believe to be necessary, yet we are connected to one another in ways which some have never imagined.

Being aromantic is fucking awesome. There's this idea of some Grand Fucking Thing that is supposed to be the most important part of life, something that you apparently can't live without, and it means Absolutely Nothing to me. That's really the only way to say it. It sounds so tragic to some people but to me it's fucking amazing

[unluckilyimnot]

reader hugging them for the first time

Characters : mikey, chifuyu, kazutora, koko, rindou, sanzu, wakasa

asked by : @ejtheoneandonly

m.list | rules

note: i hope it's what you expected ! it's been a while since i write for them, it makes me nostalgic

Mikey isn’t really surprised when your arms wrapped around him for the first time. His eyes widened a little at the comforting feeling but soon, a huge smile flashed on his face before he turned to look at you slightly.

Something is warming up in his heart and he can’t put his finger on it. All he knows is that he wants to feel it again.

Chifuyu felt like he was in a manga. You grabbed his waist, pushed your cheek on his and snapped a picture with your phone. All of this happened so fast he didn’t get to process the moment but as your hand lasted a little around his back, his cheeks were already burning.

But he has to play it cool, leaning in as you showed him the picture. “We’re cute ! Send it to me later !”

future!roommate!Kazutora’s tears were falling down his face for a while now and when he heard the front door he kinda regretted staying there. You passed the door silently at first before hearing him sniff on the sofa. Taking a few steps after leaving your shoes at the entrance, you gasped slightly when you saw him.

He was pushing his tears away, trying to cover it up, he didn’t have any right to impose that on you. Yet, you didn’t think about it twice and your arms wrapped around his shaking shoulders, pulling him into your chest. “It's okay, it happens.”

Koko felt your body fall on his back while he was still studying at the library. Your arms kindly wrapping themselves around his neck as you took a look above his shoulders. “Are you done soon, Hajime ?”

He can feel his heart beating faster at the surprise, yet loving the way you warmed him up in a few seconds. He thought about it a bit longer than necessary and now, it took him too long to answer without sounding weird. But it’s fine. He could easily get used to you hugging him.

“Rindou I’m scared I can't jump from there ?!” you screamed from the low wall the Haitani brothers just passed by as if it was nothing. Rindou sighed a little before pulling his arms in the air, ready to catch you.

“Come on.” He could feel his ears burn when you smiled at him. He was shocked to see you jump with so much confidence when you were whining a second ago. You fell into his arms, holding onto him longer than you should’ve and he couldn’t help but not let go. He didn’t want to, this felt too good.

Future!Sanzu was shocked, like he never felt something so reassuring in his entière life the first time your hands pulled his head into your shoulder.

“It's alright.” Your fingers lightly brushing through his hair made him close his eyes, enjoying the moment the fullest. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe this wasn't even real. But the warmth engulfing him felt so real that he wanted to keep it for himself only.

Wakasa knew you weren’t the one open with physical touch, but he never intended to ask anything about it or even mention it. He just acknowledged it a long time ago. So when you came to his place that night, crying, face bruised, he felt all his old anger coming back to him, wanting to know what happened. Who did that to you.

But before he could even open his mouth, your arms were wrapped around his waist and you started ugly crying in his chest, wetting his shirt. He froze for a second, processing the whole citation before hugging you closer, feeling proud that you thought of him in this vulnerable situation.

Let me know if you liked it !

Reblog are appreciated ♡

[fireflysummers]

FireflySummers’ Guide to Arguing Against the Use of AI Image Generators

(AKA I hate AI image generators so fucking much that I published a whole ass academic article on it)

Read the Paper: Art in the Machine: Value Misalignment and AI "Art"

Citation: Allred, A.M., Aragon, C. (2023). Art in the Machine: Value Misalignment and AI “Art”. In: Luo, Y. (eds) Cooperative Design, Visualization, and Engineering. CDVE 2023. Lecture Notes in Computer Science, vol 14166. Springer, Cham. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-43815-8_4

The purpose of the original paper and now this post is the following:

Provide at least one academic article that you can cite. (Full paper + citation available below)

Make explicit community values that have previously been implicit, in order to better examine your own perceptions of the online artist community, and where you sit within it.

Provide rebuttals to common pro-AI talking points, with the intention of shutting down the conversation and reclaiming the narrative. 

What this paper and post cannot do:

Act as a sole authority about the online artist community and its values. We are not a monolith, and it is up to you to think critically about what, exactly, you want to take away from this discussion.

Provide a way to convince AI Evangelists that what they’re doing is wrong and bad and needs to stop. You will never convince them. Again, focus on shutting them down and reclaiming the narrative.

Final Disclaimer: I'm a very fallible researcher who is still very much learning how to do academia. I cannot speak for the entirety of the online artist community or fanartist community. We all have different lived experiences. I have done my best to include diverse voices; however if you have concerns or critiques, I am open to hearing them.

If you show up to debate in favor of AI image generators, you will be automatically blocked.

Credits:

Editors, Meme Experts, and Annotators: @starbeans-bags, @b4kuch1n, @cecilioque.

Tutorial Examples: @sabertoothwalrus, @ash-and-starlight, @miyuliart, @hometownrockstar, @deoidesign, @cinnamonrollbakery

If you have read this far, thank you very much. I hope that you have found a constructive lens for approaching the war with AI image generators, as well as a new tool for shutting down debate and reclaiming the narrative.

[yourfavoritehouseplant]

I watched James Somerton's final video, and all I got was this 6 page document

As soon as I learned his final unreleased video was on Revolutionary Girl Utena, I knew I had to hate watch it. I didn't know that I'd spend the following 4 hours making a comprehensive doc on everything I hated about it. But here we are.

The TLDR (is this too long to be a TLDR?)

The intro section, as well as Part 2, are directly plagiarized from wikipedia. The rest is unclear.

He makes a “haha this show is so weird right guys” joke 10 different times

He reads Anthy as so emotionally stunted she literally has to be taught how to think for herself, and believes that being the rose bride makes her feel good

He says that his reading is ‘vastly different” from the rest of the community, before boldly stating that this is because he sees it as a “deeply allegorical and symbolic story”

He sees the sexual abuse as “not to be taken literally”

Insists that the show be separated into parts that are strictly literal and strictly allegorical for the entirety of parts 3 and 4, before making the contradictory move of analyzing characters as allegories during part 5

The only characters that get dedicated sections are Akio and Dios, who he doesn’t believe are the same person. 

He says Dios gets his powers by “deflowering women”

He calls Akio, known child predator, a chaotic bisexual

Uses 14 year old SA survivor Anthy’s passive personality to make a joke about her being a bottom

His final point is that Utena was the real prince all along

There are no citations

Anyway, full version for people who hate themselves under the cut. With time codes, because I cite my sources.

Part 1: Intro

This entire section is almost exclusively quoted from the Wikipedia article for Revolutionary Girl Utena. Words have been changed, but the order at which certain topics come up is not. Highlights include:

0:56 In his introduction of Be-Papas, lists the founding members in literally the exact same order as Wikipedia.

1:40-2:00 His list of Be-Papas previous works is lifted entirely from wikipedia, only with the words changed. This leads to a strange moment at 1:52 where he claims Be-papas ‘lent their talents to’ Neon Genesis Evangelion, a show which started production at least a year before Be-papas was founded. On the wikipedia article for Utena, this is instead referring to the previous work of Shinya Hasegawa and Yōji Enokido

4:23 he uses a quote by Yūichirō Oguro describing the production as a “tug of war”. He seems to have lifted this in its entirety from Wikipedia, as he does not cite the actual source it is from (the box set companion book, btw)

As for James Somerton originals, at 0:44 he claims that out of all magical girl series,”none to my knowledge have been more discussed and dissected than the 1997 series Revolutionary Girl Utena” He will go back on this at 5:05, where he states that “Sailor Moon takes the lion’s share of discussion” in regard to influential magical girl anime

Part 2: Part 1

(At least I know I’m not funny, unlike James Somerton)

Speaking of which. Here is every single time he makes a “wow this show is sooooo weird you guys” joke: 6:00, 8:50, 10:40, 10:58, 13:46, 17:07, 24:16, 30:34, 41:19, 48:01

Here’s every time the punchline to the joke is the existence of Nanami, a character who he otherwise completely disregards: 10:56, 12:05, 16:22, 42:40

6:16 Claims that the “Apocalypse saga” and “Akio Ohtori saga’ are two names for the same several episodes, depending on the release. This is untrue. Instead, different releases either only have the Apocalypse saga, or split the episodes into an Akio Ohtori saga and then the Apocalypse saga. 

7:58 Claims Utena intervening on Anthy’s behalf begins the first duel. While this happens in the movie, Touga intervenes in the scene he uses clips from (like literally right after the shot he uses in the video). Utena only gets drawn into the duels when Wakaba’s love note to Saionji is posted. Youtuber Noralities’ Utena video also gets this wrong, which makes me wonder if this was copied.

9:09 Claims Akio’s “End of the World” moniker is actually more closely translated to “Apocalypse”. In reality, the translation moves away from a more apocalyptic reading, with 世界の果て (Sekai no hate) apparently translating closer to “the furthest reach of a known world” or “edge of the world”. (Love the implications of this translation, but I digress)

9:10 As can be assumed from the previous point, this means I can’t find any sources that point to them not using the title “apocalypse” for religious reasons

10:10 Uses Anthy’s extreme passivity under her Rose bride persona to make a top/bottom joke. I’m gonna repeat this in case you’re just skimming. He uses a trait that likely stems from years of abuse, (possibly exaggerated by the persona Anthy uses to manipulate people), and uses it to call her a bottom. 

He also just doesn’t seem to understand how the whole point of Utena constantly telling Anthy that she's just a normal girl who should make more friends is framed as Utena imposing her will on Anthy, just as much as the previous Engaged have done. 

11:54 Apologies in advance for my most “um, actually!” point yet, but technically his statement that Anthy stops being host to the Sword of Dios is wrong. Akio literally pulls a sword out of her chest in the final duel. It's a more evil-looking sword of Dios, granted.

13:02 !!! CANTARELLA SCENE ALERT !!! He interprets it as them fighting over Akio?? Which like. I will allow people to have their own interpretations of vague and symbolic scenes. I will. I swear. This is not technically incorrect. It just makes me want to eat my own intestines.

14:44 Bad Anthy take #1: He states Anthy “is emotionally stunted to the point where she needs people to make decisions for her because she does not know how to think for herself” This ignores several moments of Anthy clearly making her own choices throughout the show, including the suicide attempt Somerton mentions about a minute prior. This also strips Anthy of what little agency she has throughout the story, usually exerted through messing with Utena or Nanami. (The fact that she repeatedly makes choices that contribute to her own abuse is, in my opinion, one of the most interesting parts of her character, and it's a shame that Summerton’s ‘reading’ of the story completely disregards that)

Additionally, he once again reads Utena ‘urging Anthy to think for herself” in the first arc as an unambiguously good move, and not as something critiqued in the show.

14:52 Summerton reads the Swords of hatred as symbolizing men’s hatred specifically. Again, I’m trying not to completely disregard differing interpretations to a show like Utena, but this feels very simplistic, especially considering the harm we see aimed towards Anthy by other women

16:42 Here he claims that his reading of the story seems to be “vastly different” from the bulk of Utena discourse. What is this reading? That the show shouldn’t be read literally. Or, in his words, “[we can interpret] Revolutionary Girl Utena as a deeply allegorical and symbolic story about the struggles of coming of age amidst widespread institutional corruption in a high school and which describes a passive culture of inaction in regard to brazen instances of domestic exploitation in which there is not only a question about the caporeality of the events transpiring but also which events can be taken for granted and which events are meant to signify abstract sociological institutions.” The idea that he believes this is in any way a new reading of the material honestly baffles me.

Part 3: Part 2

17:48 through 18:50 differently quotes the Wikipedia article for postmodernism. He even makes a joke at 17:55 about Wikipedia. Please kill me. 

The first three themes he lists at 19:11 are just the three main themes listed on the Revolutionary Girl Utena Wikipedia page. What was that about a “vastly different” reading, James?

You’re gonna have to take my word for it, but this section is so short because it's just him talking about the various ways the story can’t be taken literally. He does, ironically, call this a hot take.

Part 4: Part 3

Here’s where the reading falls apart folks

At 23:15, he states that some things in Utena are allegorically coded, while others are to be taken literally. This is true. However, he seems to take this to mean that some parts of the show are Strictly Literal, while others are Strictly Allegorical for things going on in the Literal World. 

This is apparently why he prefers the Anime to the Movie, where there basically is no separation between the Literal and Allegorical

This take is bizarre to me for several reasons, but here is my favorite. At several points, he mentions how Revolutionary Girl Utena is a work of Magical Realism. Magical Realism is literally defined by its blending of the “literal” and “allegorical”, the mix of fantastical elements in a mundane, realistic setting. This idea of the impossibility of a blurred line, that Utena must either have lore where the magic is all real and means nothing, or dedicated allegory segments quarantined from the rest of the story, is contrary to the very idea of Magical Realism.

I can’t help but wonder if Somerton took his mentions of Magical realism from a previous work, due to how little it is consistent with his final argument. Either way, this section suggests a great lack of creativity in his analysis, a shame for such a creative work.

24:36: Shiori slander, for those who care

After this he gets really worked up about people assuming symbolism in everything, even when the author ‘doesn’t make it clear something is symbolic’. He shuts down a reading of a shot in the Lord of the Rings. Miley Cyrus is there? Very The Curtains Were Blue of him. 

28:22 Claims that Wakaba is the key to telling where the Strictly Literal segments end and the Strictly Allegorical segments begin. He states that, under this lens, deeply personal moments of character suffering such as all of the sexual abuse and Anthy’s suicide attempt (which he literally cites) should be read as symbolic and be “approached with uncertainty rather than confusion”. (28:24-29:13)

This also somewhat falls apart when you consider Wakaba is the jeep in the movie's car chase

And then he rants about people not liking his Attack on Titan video for a bit. Since its potential symbolism also doesn't follow hard enough rules to be symbolism. Once again, the separation of “fact vs allegory” I haven’t watched AOT, so that's all I’ll say.

Part 5: Part 4

Thank god this part is short. Much like Dios’ on-screen presence.

32:55 Makes the extremely bold claim that Dios is not Akio. As in, never even became Akio. because Dios is Strictly Allegorical.

Just to be a pedant, this is pretty explicitly disproven in the show

Confusingly, both earlier and later he will address these two as the same character. 

33:04 he also explains the root of Akio’s name in a tone that suggests this is supplemental information and not like. Literally something he explains out loud in the show?

Part 6: Part 5

This section is nearly entirely about Akio Ohtori. I would like to note that him and Dios are the only characters with dedicated segments.

38:30 The part where he states that Dios gets his powers from deflowering women.

38:46 Claims, once again, that Akio’s abuse of Anthy “may not be literal”. 

38:59 “the instance of exploitation here is used because assault has deep roots as indicating that akio's gender is the source of his imbalance”  THE ASSAULT IS ABOUT AKIO NOW???

39:45 Bad Anthy take #2: “Anthy’s conformity to the Rose bride is based around the fact that she feels good being subservient because this is the only thing in her life that has ever brought her any kind of positive reward”. This is a direct quote. Anyway, I can’t think of any instances in the show where Anthy’s subservience gives her a positive reward, except maybe when she’s intentionally using it to manipulate others. As for her feeling good being the rose bride. She tries to commit suicide. Dude.

Side tangent, but isn’t this exactly what Akio says during the final 2 episodes? That Anthy enjoys being a witch? Is the main villain, who consistently says things during that very episode that are blatantly false, our source of information for this take? I guess so, since this is the dedicated Akio section.

At 40:20 he decides to introduce the concept of Anthy, Akio, and Utena as stand-ins for wider concepts, which is antithetical to his approach in analysis beforehand

Part 7: Part 6

42:40 he finally acknowledges that he’s been spending too much time talking about Akio, and literally no time on characters like Nanami

46:10 states that Utena’s exclusive motivation “is to protect Anthy from the predatorial intentions of the other dualists”, which disregards the fact, which she states herself, that she was largely participating in the duels and protecting Anthy to feel like a prince

48:04 The part where he says that Akio has ‘chaotic Bi vibes’ in regards to him sleeping with Touga, who is 17 and implied to be a long-term victim

Part 8: Part 7

54:01: His concluding point is that Utena was the real prince all along. 

In true Somerton fashion, the video then ends over a scrolling wall of patrons, with not a single citation in sight.

[squirrelwithatophat]

How the Chantry (and Orlais) Turned Kirkwall into a Police State

One aspect of the Dragon Age series that I’ve always found odd is the way in which rather crucial political and historical context surrounding major conflicts the player must decide tends to be relegated to codices, outside materials (e.g., books), and optional dialogue with minor characters... meaning that many if not most players don’t seem to end up actually seeing it.  Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts (Dragon Age Inquisition) in particular has become somewhat notorious for what it left out, but it’s far from unusual.

With regard to Dragon Age II, there’s a popular perception among fans that the troubles in Kirkwall can be attributed almost entirely to rogue behavior on the part of Knight-Commander Meredith and various evil blood mages.  This is understandable given the overall narrative framing and Bioware’s aforementioned problem of making key context very easy to miss.  But once we take a look at the full picture, it ought to be clear that the Chantry did not simply “fail” in their responsibilities towards the mages or towards the citizens of Kirkwall more broadly — they actively created and maintained the very nightmare they later professed to be dismayed about.

Moreover, despite the running Mages vs. Templars theme, the mages were hardly the only one's who suffered under Meredith's rule. Indeed, Kirkwall endured a brutal 16-year-long dictatorship (9:21-9:37 Dragon) that came into being courtesy of the Chantry and the Orlesian empire and only fell due to the mage rebellion.

Here I’ll describe in detail (with sources and citations) the story of how the Chantry turned Kirkwall into a police state and one that ultimately descended into what the writers themselves termed "genocide."  

The Templar Coup of 9:21 Dragon

Our story begins with the conflict between Viscount Perrin Threnhold of Kirkwall and Emperor Florian Valmont of Orlais.  

With the beginning of the Dragon Age (the era), the Orlais had experienced a major loss of territory and influence.  In 9:00-9:02 Dragon (the exact dates conflict), the Fereldan Rebellion led by Maric Theirin and Loghain Mac Tir overthrew Meghren, the last Orlesian King of Ferelden (personally appointed to the position by Emperor Florian himself), and reclaimed their country’s independence after nearly a century of Orlesian occupation.  These events are described in detail in The Stolen Throne. Emperor Florian, however, remained reluctant to recognize Ferelden’s sovereignty -- with peace between the two countries not being fully established until his death and the ascension of his niece Celene to the throne in 9:20 Dragon -- and may have been eager to reassert Orlesian influence in the region.  Perrin Threnhold, meanwhile, ascended to the position of viscount of Kirkwall (also formerly occupied by Orlais) in 9:14 Dragon.  At some point during this volatile period, Threnhold decided to raise money by charging what the Orlesians regarded as unreasonably high tolls for passage through the Waking Sea, which also controlled Orlais’s sea access to Ferelden and its capitol, Denerim.

For reference, here’s a map with my highlights:

The Orlesian Chantry, founded by Kordillus Drakon I (the first emperor of Orlais), had from the beginning been dominated by Orlesian interests.  According to World of Thedas vol. 1 (p. 56): “The Orlesian capital, Val Royeaux, is home to the Chantry’s Grand Cathedral, the center of the Andrastian religion’s power.  Over multiple Blights, the Orlesians have used the Chantry to expand their influence beyond the nation’s impressive borders, notably to the north into Tevinter territory and southeast through Ferelden.”  The Chantry, not surprisingly, had backed the Orlesian invasion and occupation of Ferelden, most recently under Divine Beatrix III (probably) and Grand Cleric Bronach of Denerim. It should be noted that this is all part of a pattern of highly-aggressive and imperialistic behavior that has persisted for centuries from the early years up to (potentially) the events of Dragon Age Inquisition.

It also cannot be emphasized enough that the Templars are the Chantry’s army and were created by the Chantry in the first place.  They do not simply hunt and guard mages; they fight the Chantry’s wars and carry out its policies.  Quote: “the Order of Templars was created as the martial arm of the Chantry” (Codex: Templars).  According to First Enchanter Halden of Starkhaven (8:80 Blessed), “While mages often resent the templars as symbols of the Chantry's control over magic, the people of Thedas see them as saviors and holy warriors, champions of all that is good, armed with piety enough to protect the world from the ravages of foul magic. In reality, the Chantry's militant arm looks first for skilled warriors with unshakable faith in the Maker, with a flawless moral center as a secondary concern. Templars must carry out their duty with an emotional distance, and the Order of Templars prefers soldiers with religious fervor and absolute loyalty over paragons of virtue who might question orders when it comes time to make difficult choices.  It is this sense of ruthless piety that most frightens mages when they draw the templars' attention: When the templars are sent to eliminate a possible blood mage, there is no reasoning with them, and if the templars are prepared, the mage's magic is all but useless. Driven by their faith, the templars are one of the most feared and respected forces in Thedas” (Codex: Templars).  Likewise, a Chantry official confirms that the Templars are both “the watchers of the mages and the martial arm of the Chantry” (Codex: Seekers of Truth).  In Dragon Age Origins, the (unwillingly) Templar-trained Alistair elaborates, “Essentially they’re trained to fight. The Chantry would tell you that the templars exist simply to defend, but don’t let them fool you. They’re an army... The Chantry keeps a close reign on its templars. We are given lyrium to help develop our magical talents, you see… which means we become addicted.  And since the Chantry controls the lyrium trade with the dwarves… well, I’m sure you can put two and two together...  The Chantry usually doesn’t let their templars get away, either.”

In response to Threnhold’s intolerable restrictions on the Orlesian navy’s movements in its traditional sphere of influence, Divine Beatrix III, an acknowledged “friend of the emperor” (and predecessor to Divine Justinia V of DAI), ordered the Kirkwall Templars under Knight-Commander Guylian to force open the Waking Sea.  Viscount Threnhold retaliated for this obviously-illegal military interference by ordering the Templars expelled from Kirkwall and later executing the knight-commander.  Then-Knight-Captain Meredith Stannard led the remaining Templars to storm the Keep and arrest Threnhold before appointing a weak viscount unwilling or unable to resist her control.

From Kirkwall: City of Chains by Brother Ferdinand Genitivi (Codex: History of Kirkwall: Chapter 4):

Taxes were crippling and Perrin Threnhold used the ancient chains extending from “the Twins” standing at Kirkwall's harbor—unused since the New Exalted Marches—to block sea traffic and charge exorbitant fees from Orlesian ships. The Empire threatened invasion following the closure of the Waking Sea passage, and for the first time, the Chantry used the templars to pressure the viscount. Until that point, the templars had done nothing to counter the Threnholds even though, as the largest armed force in Kirkwall, they could have. Knight-Commander Guylian's only written comment was in a letter to Divine Beatrix III: “It is not our place to interfere in political affairs. We are here to safeguard the city against magic, not against itself.”  The divine, as a friend to the emperor, clearly had other ideas.

In response, Viscount Perrin hired a mercenary army, forcing a showdown with the templars. They stormed the Gallows and hung Knight-Commander Guylian, igniting a series of battles that ended with Perrin's arrest and the last of his family's rule. The templars were hailed as heroes, and even though they wished to remain out of Kirkwall's affairs, it was now forced upon them.  Knight-Commander Meredith appointed Lord Marlowe Dumar as the new viscount in 9:21 Dragon and she has remained influential in the city's rule ever since.

Given that this was written by a Chantry scholar, the self-justificatory rhetoric surrounding the viscount and the Chantry-instigated coup ought not be surprising.  It appears, however, that in Kirkwall itself popular perceptions of Viscount Perrin Threnhold are in fact fairly polarized.

Whereas Brother Genitivi calls Perrin’s father Chivalry Threnhold “a vicious thug who took power through a campaign of intimidation” and Perrin Threnhold “even worse,” an unnamed servant writing 7 years after the coup paints a rather different picture (Codex: Viscount Marlowe Dumar):

What happened to Viscount Perrin Threnhold was a travesty. I served in the Keep, and my blood boils when I hear people call him a tyrant. He was a good man who tried his best to free Kirkwall from the control of those who use power for their own purposes. It's always been that way here, hasn't it? Long ago it was the Imperium. Then it was the Qunari, then the Orlesians, now the templars... when have we ever ruled ourselves? He tried to kick those templar bastards out and give us real freedom, and what did it get him?

Whether Threnhold was an evil tyrant or a nationalist hero (or both or something else entirely) is beside the point, however.  He was not overthrown for mistreating the citizens of Kirkwall; he was overthrown for opposing Orlais and the Templars (acting as an arm of Orlesian imperialism and in defiance of their official duties).  Seneschal Bran, himself no fan of either Threnhold or the Templars (and the only character to ever discuss the coup out loud), points this out in an easy-to-miss optional conversation in Act 3.

Hawke: What happens if they [the Templars] don’t like the [nobility’s] choice [of viscount]?

Seneschal Bran: Do you know how Viscount Dumar’s predecessor, Perrin Threnhold, left office?  He was a tyrant, certainly, but his rule was not ended until he actively sought to expel the templars.  “The good of all” is inexorably tied to what is good for the templars.

It’s unclear whether Knight-Captain Meredith was acting on her own initiative in toppling Threnhold or whether she received prior encouragement from the Chantry, but either way, what is certain is that the Chantry moved quickly to legitimize her actions and bolster the new order.  Moreover, the intent to seize power for the Chantry and its military forces rather than “liberate” Kirkwall from the depredations of a tyrannical viscount can be seen in the way they illegally imposed their own viscount (one kept submissive through threats of violence) rather than allowing the people to choose or at the very least following accepted selection procedures (i.e., allowing the nobility to vote on the next viscount). Indeed, this refusal to let the nobility select the viscount as per tradition is the basis of Orsino's protest at the beginning of Act 3.

In any event, Grand Cleric Elthina, as the highest-ranking representative of the Chantry in Kirkwall (appointed to her position by Divine Beatrix III herself around 20 years before Act 1) and thus exercising authority over its Templars, presided over the show trial at the end of which Threnhold was imprisoned and later murdered in his cell. Then she rewarded Meredith with a promotion.

According to the codex for Knight-Commander Meredith:

She is credited with removing the previous viscount, Perrin Threnhold, from his position after he attempted to have the templars expelled from the city in 9:21 Dragon.  The acting knight-commander was arrested and executed, and Meredith led a group of templars into the heart of the Keep to capture Threnhold. He was tried and imprisoned three days later by Grand Cleric Elthina and died from poisoning two years later. Meredith was subsequently elevated to her current position.

While merely implied here, Elthina is explicitly confirmed to have given Meredith the position of knight-commander in the first place in World of Thedas vol. 2 (p. 193):

Following Threnhold’s arrest, Grand Cleric Elthina appointed Meredith as the new knight-commander.  At Knight-Commander Meredith’s suggestion, a new viscount was chosen: a man named Marlowe Dumar.

Then in blatant violation of Kirkwall’s own laws and traditions -- again, dictating that the viscount be chosen by the nobility -- the Chantry had allowed newly-installed Knight-Commander Meredith to select the new viscount.  If approached in the Templar-occupied Viscount’s Keep and spoken to in Act 3, Seneschal Bran will explain:

Bran: When a line is judged unfit, or ends, we appoint from Kirkwall’s elite.  Or we would, if the situation was normal.  But it is not.

Hawke: Who nominates a new viscount?

Bran: A consensus of the nobility.  Normally.  And a willing nominee.

It seems to be the general consensus that Marlowe Dumar was chosen specifically because he was weak and willing to play the role of Templar/Chantry puppet (a subheading in Dumar’s WoT v2 entry even explicitly calls him “The Puppet”).  Meredith, after all, is not only responsible for his appointment but has been threatening him into compliance from the very beginning.

Again, Brother Genitivi writes quite bluntly: 

Knight-Commander Meredith appointed Lord Marlowe Dumar as the new viscount in 9:21 Dragon and she has remained influential in the city's rule ever since.

And quoting once more from the unnamed servant:

Now the Chantry has chosen Lord Marlowe Dumar as his replacement. After weeks and weeks of arguing, after telling the nobility that they would be choosing their viscount, after everyone saying it was time to use a new title—why not "king"? Why keep using the name imposed by the Orlesians? And after all that, the Chantry chose him. I suppose I can see why—everyone thinks he has the spine of a jellyfish, and it does seem that way.

Truly, he has the templars on one side, the nobility on the other, and everyone expects him to solve all their problems—yet he has no power to actually accomplish it. He keeps the peace as best he can, and I think he does a good job even if no one else does.

Likewise, to quote from Marlowe Dumar’s entry in World of Thedas vol. 2 (p. 184-185):

The new knight-commander, Meredith, appointed Marlowe to the seat, much to his surprise.  Just before he was crowned, he met in private with the knight-commander at the Gallows.  Marlowe was escorted, surrounded by grim templars, to Meredith’s well-appointed office, and there, she explained her reasons for the choice.  Kirkwall was filled with entitled degenerates... “With my help, you will turn this city around,” she said.  “We will be allies.”  Meredith’s message was clear: Remember who holds power in Kirkwall.  Remember what happened to Threnhold when he overreached.  To drive her point home, she presented Marlowe with a small carven ivory box at his coronation.  The box contained the Threnhold signet ring, misshapen, and crusted with blood. On the inside of the lid were written the words “His fate need not be yours.”  Marlowe ruled Kirkwall without incident for almost a decade, in no small part thanks to Meredith’s backing.  During his reign, the templars grew even more powerful, and the knight-commander’s influence was evident in almost every one of Marlowe’s decisions.

And from Meredith’s entry in WoT vol. 2 (p. 193):

Meredith presented Dumar with a carved ivory box at his crowning.  All present witnessed the viscount going white as a sheet as he opened it... It is not known what the box contained, but the reaction from Dumar made its importance to him obvious.  What is certain is that Dumar never openly or strongly defied the templars.  Over the course of his reign, Meredith’s grip on Kirkwall grew ever tighter, and Dumar’s failure to act absolutely contributed to the events that led to the mage rebellion.

According to Lord Bellamy, “a longtime political ally of Dumar’s” (p. 193):

“Dumar had a good heart.  A good heart and a weak will.  On his own he might have made a good leader, given time.  But he wasn’t on his own.  The knight-commander was always there, looking over his shoulder.  She let him know she was watching, that he wore the crown at her sufferance.  Meredith appointed him. This was a nobleman of only moderate wealth, with little influence.  She knew she could control him and there was little he or anyone else could do about it.”

Ultimately, the coup not only secured Chantry control over Kirkwall but furthered their (and the Orlesian Empire’s) geopolitical interests in the Free Marches as a whole. After all, the “Free Marches is [sic] best known as the breadbasket of Thedas. Its farms along the banks of the great Minanter river are the source of much of the continent’s food” (World of Thedas vol. 1, p. 65), and as with many a real-world “breadbasket,” its natural abundance and misfortune of lying between multiple empires had made it the target of one invasion and occupation after another. After the slave revolt of 25 Ancient toppled the Tevinter Imperium’s hold over the region (see Codex: History of Kirkwall: Chapter 2), the city-state of Kirkwall fell to Qunari invasion in 7:56 Storm, then invasion and occupation by the Orlesian Empire in 7:60 Storm, and finally gained its independence about 45 years later in 8:05 Blessed (see Codex: History of Kirkwall: Chapter 3). Prior to the Chantry-instigated coup, Kirkwall had enjoyed independence under a locally-chosen viscount for around 115 years, with Viscount Perrin Threnhold himself ruling for 7 years.

Other city-states of the Free Marches have likewise fallen under the Chantry’s sphere of influence (if not outright control):

Starkhaven is ruled by the Vael family. According to the codex for The Vaels, “They remain devout, dedicating at least one son or daughter per generation to become a cleric in the chantry.” The sole potential heir to the throne of Starkhaven is of course our DLC companion Sebastian Vael, “The Exiled Prince.” To quote from his first codex: “Sebastian Vael is the only surviving son of the ruling family of Starkhaven, which was murdered in a violent coup d'etat. Sebastian cannot forget the irony that he still lives only because his family was so ashamed of his drinking and womanizing that they committed him to the Kirkwall Chantry against his will… Since then, his belief in the Maker and His plan for Thedas have been unshakable. Embracing his new role, Sebastian took vows of poverty and chastity to become a sworn brother of the Chantry... until word of his family's deaths forced him to take up worldly concerns once again.” Elthina appears to have been playing mind games with Sebastian from the very beginning -- first she agrees to have him confined in her Chantry, then poses as a secret benefactor helping him escape from her clutches, with the revelation of her identity as said pretend benefactor leading him to embrace her authority and the life of a Chantry brother with genuine enthusiasm (see the Sebastian short story or his WoT v2 entry for details).  After his family’s murder, Elthina urges him to remain with her rather than reclaim the throne.  Yet when he gives up on seeking the throne and actually does attempt to return to the Chantry during “a crisis of faith,” he is “turned away by Grand Cleric Elthina, who believed he had not yet committed fully to either course” (see Codex: Sebastian - The Last Three Years), leaving him confused and even more under her thrall than ever.

Ostwick is dominated by the devout, staunchly pro-Chantry Trevelyan family. According to the codex for Trevelyan, the Free Marcher: “It is an old and distinguished family, in good standing among its peers, and with strong ties to the Chantry. Its youngest sons and daughters—those third- or fourth-born children with little chance of becoming heirs—often join the Chantry to become templars or clerics.”

Tantervale is certainly... special. According to WoT vol. 1 (p. 71): “Chantry rule is all but absolute in Tantervale, earning the city its dour reputation. The city guard is obsessed with enforcement. A street urchin would get a year in the dungeon for something that would get him a pat on the back in Orlais” (p. 71).

But let us return to Kirkwall, shall we?

"The Puppet”: The Reign of Viscount Marlowe Dumar (9:21-9:34 Dragon)

Viscount Marlow Dumar’s status as an impotent tool of the Chantry and its Templars appears to be common knowledge in Kirkwall.  Various characters, from city guards to lowlifes like Gamlen, casually refer to Meredith as if she is head of state and defer to her authority.

Immediately upon approaching the gates of the city in the first quest of the game, The Destruction of Lothering (Act 1), the following exchange occurs:

Guardsman Wright: So Knight-Commander Meredith wants us to sort you all out. Most of you are getting right back on your ships, though.

Hawke: That's a templar title. Why would a city guardsman answer to the templars?

Wright: We don't answer to her... but she's the power in Kirkwall. Don't know what would happen if the viscount went against something she wanted... But he's sure never taken that chance.

Likewise, if asked about “the word on the street,” Corff the bartender remarks as early as Act 1, “People say Meredith's the real power in Kirkwall, not the Viscount. Even Dumar answers to her.”

Ordinary citizens appear terrified of Meredith, and with good reason.  During the quest Enemies Among Us (Act 1, set in 9:31 Dragon), we get the following exchange with the sister of a Templar recruit:

Macha: I pleaded with him not to join the Order, but he wouldn't listen. You hear dark rumors about the templars and Knight-Commander Meredith. And now my brother is gone.

Hawke: (“Are templars so bad here?”) In Lothering, some templars died protecting villagers. I never heard any dark rumors.

Macha: And those are the stories my Keran adored. But it is not like that here, serah. There is a growing darkness in the order. They prowl the streets in packs. Hunting. And now, they say their duties put them above us, that they have the right to... take people from their homes. It is frightening.

Hawke: (“Tell me about Meredith”) What do people say about Knight-Commander Meredith?

Macha:  Oh, she has many admirers. They laud the service she does in keeping the mages in check.  But others say she is terribly fierce and utterly without pity. That she sees demons everywhere.  It is dangerous even to whisper such things.  People harboring escaped mages just disappear.  Templars interrogate and threaten passers-by.  My friend has a cousin who’s a mage, and she says he was made Tranquil against his will.  You hear more with each passing day.

Of course, Knight-Commander Meredith’s reign over the Gallows was notoriously brutal long before she came into contact with Red Lyrium.  Writing 3 years after the coup (but 7 years before Act 1), in 9:24 Dragon, Brother Genitivi remarks that "Kirkwall has been a tinderbox since becoming the center of templar power in eastern Thedas." As early as Act 1, mages in the Gallows can be heard crying out, “This place is a prison,” and “Knight-Commander Meredith would kill us all if she could.”  When asked if mages are imprisoned, the guardsman replies, “Used to be, back in the Imperial days. They kept slaves here until the rebellion. Now the templars run it and use it to lock up their mages. Guess not much has changed” (The Destruction of Lothering, Act 1).  Karl Thekla’s final letter before being turned Tranquil (with such illegal uses of the Rite having been repeatedly reported to Meredith) “said the knight-commander was turning the Circle into a prison. Mages are locked in their cells, refused appearances at court, made Tranquil for the slightest crimes” (Tranquility, Act 1).  If Hawke questions the truth of these accusations, Anders responds, “Ask any mage in Kirkwall. Over a dozen were made Tranquil just this year. The more people you ask, the worse the rumors become.” (Elthina also appears to be aware at least to some extent of the subsequent ambush, in which a Tranquil Karl was used as bait to ensnare his former lover).

According to the short story Paper & Steel (focusing on Samson): “Under Meredith, freedom was a cruel dream for Kirkwall’s Circle mages. They were often locked in their cells, watched night and day by templars who were told any step out of line was suspicious. All those young magelings, told that magic was a curse, that they were dangerous, and that they had to be shut indoors all their lives looking out through those windows. Some went mad. Others, mad or not, tried jumping.”  And from First Enchanter Orsino’s entry in World of Thedas, vol. 2 (p. 195): “Every time a mage died by their own hand, Orsino would hear Maud’s final words to him: 'This is no life.’ The templars didn’t seem to care about the suicides. Most had the courtesy to say nothing at all, but some would snigger when they thought no one was listening. 'One less to worry about.’ ‘The only good mage is a dead mage.’ Orsino’s anger at the templars grew...” (Note that this began long before Orsino became first enchanter in 9:28, three years before the start of the game). It's also worth noting Knight-Captain Cullen Rutherford quite explicitly attained his position as second-in-command of the Kirkwall Templars position because of his anti-mage extremism, later including violence against those perceived as mage sympathizers and their families.

To name more specific abuses, the Gallows features whipping posts (with dialogue confirming the reliance on whipping) and multiple other medieval torture devices, including a rack, a pillory, and iron maidens.  We also see numerous references to casual beatings, sexual assaults, forced Tranquility and facial branding, long-term confinement in dark cells, and permanent family separation (e.g., Emile du Launcet).  Escape attempts are typically punished with summary execution, according to multiple sources (e.g., Ser Thrask, Ser Karras, Grace). According to Ser Thrask, the most sympathetic Templar (besides Carver), kindness to mages would be a "badge of shame" among among his colleagues. For more, I recommend checking out the “DA2 mage rights reference post” by @bubonickitten​. Again, note that these are cruelties largely occurring prior to or during Act 1, long before Meredith started going insane due to Red Lyrium.

If Feynriel is forced into the Circle at the end of Wayward Son (Act 1), the ex-Templar Samson says, “I hear they got your boy Feynriel locked up in the Circle. Bad business, that. It ain't all templars that're bad. It's hard luck being born a robe, but most places, they make it work. That bitch Meredith runs the Order in this town like her private army. You don't toe the line, you end up on the next corner here in Darktown.  I don't think you got to hate mages to love the Order.  But Meredith don't agree.” Samson, it should be remembered, had been expelled from the Templar Order for passing love notes from the mage Maddox to his lover.  For the crime of “corrupting the moral integrity of a templar,” Meredith ordered Maddox turned Tranquil.  According to Cullen in Before the Dawn (DAI), “Knight-Commander Meredith wielded the brand for far lesser offences, believe me."

Ordinary citizens appear to be well aware of at least some of Meredith’s reign of terror in the Gallows, given that various NPCs (including some who do not personally know any inmates) will refer to it.  During Tranquility (Act 1), for example, a mob of Ferelden refugees threatens the party over fears that the latter intend to turn in “The Healer of Darktown” to the Templars. One exclaims, "We know what happens to mages in this town.  And it ain’t gonna happen to him." Moreover, the knowledge is sufficiently widespread as to have reached faraway countries.  A note dated 9:35 (set between Acts 2-3) from a mage of the Hossberg Circle in the Anderfels expresses utter horror: “I have heard that in the Kirkwall Gallows, mages are locked in their cells with barely room to stretch, let alone exercise.  I can promise you that any mage of the Anderfels would be stark raving mad after a week of such treatment... No wonder Kirkwall has such trouble with blood mages” (WoT v2, p. 173).  

And through all of this, Meredith has the support of the Chantry and more specifically Grand Cleric Elthina.

Not only did Elthina appoint Meredith to her position in the first place (WoT v2, p. 193), but if asked her opinion on Meredith in Act 1, Elthina snaps, “Gossip is a sin, child. Knight-Commander Meredith has an admirable devotion to her duties. It is not my role to form opinions on her character.”  An odd statement to make about a subordinate, since Meredith reports to her directly (as knight-commanders legally do to the nearest grand cleric).  The codex for Knight-Commander Meredith confirms at as of the end of Act 2, “she enjoys the grand cleric's full support and has free rein in Kirkwall as the commander of its most powerful military force.”  According to Elthina’s codex, many claim that Elthina “allows Knight-Commander Meredith more leeway with each passing year.”   According to World of Thedas vol. 2, which tries to put a more positive spin on Elthina’s role, her detractors “say her stubborn refusal to exercise her Chantry-given authority allowed the conflict between the templars and mages to escalate, finally resulting in the disastrous mage rebellion of 9:37 Dragon... Since Elthina was loath to exploit her authority as grand cleric, she refused to order either the mages or templars to stand down when tensions flared.  Many believe that she could have forced one side to retreat by showing her support for their position, but Elthina refused to take sides” (p. 196-197). This is at best an abdication of responsibility to dependents for someone intent on remaining in power.

Moreover, Elthina’s dominance over Kirkwall appears to depend in large part on at least appearing to manage Meredith and her troops.  According to her codex, “People frequently turn to her to mediate disputes—particularly those involving the powerful Templar Order, over whom she holds authority as the Chantry's ranking representative.” So Meredith as military leader rules both the Circle and the city-state through fear and violence, while Elthina maintains her power by playing Good Cop to Meredith's Bad Cop. Both then maintain a pretense of legality and legitimacy by fronting Viscount Dumar as the public face of the regime.

And this dual-power system works quite well for them -- at least until Meredith starts losing her mind under the influence of the Red Lyrium idol.

[A link will later be provided for Part 2 on Escalation and Direct Rule. If I ever do get to it 😭😭😭]

[sigh-tofm]

if you’re a student… (some 18+)

… price

- keeps you company. he is well established and then some, and the stuff you study is way to advanced for any schooling he ever had, so he settles for helping you in other ways. if you study full time, you want for nothing. he makes sure your billing account is always topped up so you don’t have to work and gets all the shopping done for you. during your study sessions he’s nearby with the newspapers or a half-done report, making sure to keep both of your coffee mugs full. the night before big exams he gives you a massage and cooks a hearty meal to set you up for success.

- it’s not a secret that he finds you incredibly hot when you don your reading glasses and messy hair, no makeup on, and the fantasy of an old man like him having a darling little college student in his bed secretly drives him mad. so when you need to destress after a long session, he’s there to help.

… kyle

- studies with you. he probably has a little side project on his own - of course, he’s already set in his career, but he takes a local class every other semester just for fun. subjects like art history or food science, perfect stuff for tidbits and party tricks. you are very busy with your own studies so whenever he has free time, he sits down next to you in the kitchen or on the sofa with his own textbook and dutifully highlights important passages, while you scribble notes in the margins of your own textbook. you pull all-nighters together before big exams and read each other’s flash cards. he’s memorised your takeout orders and makes sure to keep you both fed.

- you both thoroughly unwind after, of course. at a point you’re so mentally exhausted that you just need to let loose and not think for a while. kyle obliges when you not so subtly slide your foot up his calf under the table.

… johnny

- enables you. johnny can’t sit still for more than a minute without anything to do, and being his significant other you sadly are the victim of his excessive energy. some days it’s enough to put on an action movie in the sitting room while you hide out upstairs or send him over to kyle’s for whatever they do together. other days you need to sternly send him for a run that lasts at least three hours, knowing it will knock him out after, giving you a combined four or five undisturbed hours of study time. occasionally you throw one of your theses or problems at him to get him to focus on something other than you, and if it’s within his field of interest he will fall quiet next to you and end up writing two or three pages explaining his own reasoning, citations and all.

- will always try to coax you to leave your books and come join him in the bedroom or shower. always nags that restitution is as important as the work in itself and won’t listen when you tell him it doesn’t work that way with studying. sometimes sneaks in between your legs under the table and laps at you until mess up your handwriting.

… simon

- tutors you. whatever it is you study, simon will become an expert in it by the time you’re ready to graduate. he gets copies of your textbooks and reads and annotates the same chapters as you do. he listens in on your online lectures and makes his own notes. he does all this partly out of curiosity, but mostly to be of assistance to you. before tests and exams he quizzes you and makes short writing prompts for you, forcing you to think about your material in new ways. date nights often involve flash cards (which tends to become a hilarious exercise after a few glasses of wine). it’s so important to him that you reach your goals, that he will spend hours of his own time to be able to support you as much as possible, in every way he can.

- he has more patience and endurance than you, so when you after six hours of repetition and revising lean back in your seat and lightly run your fingers down his back, he lightly swats your hand away and reminds you of the problem you haven’t answered yet. but after a little convincing, even he can’t resist your gentle request for long.

[r-o-s-e-f-i-r-e]

ok between evan buckley’s cultural black hole of an upbringing and his noted love of documentaries trivia research deep dives etc what i’ve been turning over in my mind palace the last few days is like

tommy logs into instagram once a week to like all of sal and gina’s pictures of baby lila and whatever memes chimney has sent him. he hits a button weird with his gigantic beautiful fingers and gets taken to an instagram reel about uhhh the irish potato famine it doesn’t actually matter what it is he just watches the first few seconds and goes !!! evan was talking about this!!!!! evan thing! thing for evan!!!! tommy immediately shows it to evan later like hey babe weren’t you just talking about this i found more Information for you 👁️👄👁️ and buck watches it and is just like what???? that’s not true. excuse me, he’s - he’s literally making shit up, potatoes are native to the americas, this is misinformation, there was food the english were just exporting it under armed guards it was starvation under colonial rule!!!! he doesn’t even bother to list any citations? that’s not what a primary source is!!!!! and then buck takes tommy’s phone and starts eviscerating some like podcast bro adjacent “real history” account (it’s a funnel into tradwife conspiracy theories and also the podcast bros MLM which evan will never realize because he doesn’t make it to the end of the video he keeps swiping and is like ALL OF THESE ARE WRONG!!! HOW CAN HE JUST LIE ON THE INTERNET LIKE THAT????)

anyway after tommy is like uh??? it eventually comes out that evan’s bubble boy childhood was the natural extension of both of his parents like. being tenured history professors at penn. the only music released after 1980 that he listened to growing up was paul simon’s graceland. they didnt own a television but he spent a lot of time sullenly swinging his feet back and forth in a corner of the special collections library while his dad gave public evening and weekend lectures about Petrarch and bookmaking and how to properly handle manuscripts and his mom edited what would become The defining collection of churchill’s personal correspondence and he Did Not Retain Much Of It out of spite but they drilled how to Accurately Research Anything into his 8 year old brain and it became a fundamental building block of his identity (and maddie’s duh) without them realizing how fucking weird they are. for examp he’s sooo annoyed he doesn’t have a date for the billy boils rodeo stampede in the hospital. the substack he found was run by a uc berkeley folklore MA who emailed buck scans of microfilms of contemporary newspaper articles abt boils & the gang after buck is like nice wiki template 🙄 tommy hears all of this and is like okay. cool. umm where do curses fit into this worldview. and buck is like you’d be a believer too if you’d had PhD students over for dinner every other week comparing traumatic field research stories while your parents nodded along sagely and said stuff like yeah that’s why you don’t fuck around in the catacombs after dark you idiots. ANYWAY that’s all thanks for stopping by

[copperbadge]

I recently read a research study that said something like "Talk therapy is a productive treatment for ADHD, but can be difficult because people with ADHD often struggle to stay focused during therapy sessions."

Having "bitch pay attention" disease really is the funniest. Best brain damage to have.

I do track stuff I want to talk about -- I have a Tasks list titled "Thurp" and I record brief thoughts there. But I've also had great success with just...making a slideshow for her. Creating a presentation in PowerPoint or Google Slides lets me construct a linear narrative of my week or my dilemma, including adding citations where needed (like a screengrab of a contentious text conversation, or the partial text of a post I've made here). When stuff stops being relevant I can take it out, too, so I never worry about putting too much in, it can all go in and get edited later, which you cannot do in a conversation. Once I've given the presentation, Therapist and I can discuss next steps or whatnot, or go back and review slides if she wants.

She's generally entertained and usually reacts positively when I'm like "Hey guess what I have for you, a presentation" because she knows shit's about to get wild. And then after I can share the document with her so she doesn't have to take notes.

[prettyboykatsuki]

TEXTBOOK CITATIONS ON IMMORAL SEX | S. GETOU ft. F. TOJI

✮ tags ; porn no plot, afab + fem!reader (good girl, little girl once sarcastically by toji, pretty), mild degradation (dirty girl, a bitch in heat), professor!getou + security guard!toji, dubcon, imbalanced power dynamics, age gaps(10+ years), mild coercion / blackmail, spit play, wet ‘n messy sex, face-fucking, oral (f +m!recieving), spanking, restraints, dirty talk, creampie / unprotected sex, 18+

✮ wc ; 10.6k

✮ synopsis ; You’re willing to do anything to pass your intro course. Whatever it takes. No cost is too high.

✮ a /n ; a comm for the beloved @fushironi !!! thank you for commissioning me and letting me post your work. if anyone is interested in a commission i will be reopening them at some point this month hopefully

A SIDE NOTE: THIS IS VERY CONSENSUAL!! but the relationship is inherently unethical so the dubcon tag is there. and this is. just smut. no plot no brain. just porn.

You're failing ethics. 

You're failing ethics and failing it badly. 

You refuse to take all of the blame for your failures. Some of it is your fault, but most of it is the fault of your good-for-nothing academic advisor. You're not sure what they get paid for, since it seems like there's an elaborate prank going on between staff and you're the only one not in on the joke. In what universe is it possible, plausible - that an individual could get paid for doing everything but their job? 

Apparently this one. But whatever. 

In your last semester of university, on the edge of graduating and totally on the right track - you're informed that you're not going to be able to graduate in the expected time frame because you are missing a single course. You learn this information about two days before registrations close, which means all the meaningful classes contributing to your major are booked and busy. Everything is full, and everything that isn't doesn't contribute to your degree. As in, even if you took it - it wouldn't give you what you need to graduate. 

After a full-blown mental break, a long night crying yourself to sleep in your dorm, and an egregious amount of begging - you managed to snag yourself a class. It wasn't ideal by any stretch of the imagination, and it did put quite the strain on your schedule. Straight out of your 8am lab - you had to speed walk to the other end of campus and make sure you made it to lecture. The lecture time itself was an hour and twenty minutes, attendance mandatory, twice a week - which meant you had to delay lunch again till afterwards and learn on empty fumes till 1 pm. 

Still, better than not graduating at all. 

You'd hoped (expected?) that the course itself would be about average in coursework. For one, it's an intro class. Intro to Ethics or PHIL-2467, with Professor Getou Suguru. Secondly, the actual listed coursework seems simple enough. Discussion boards, reading analysis, and a few papers made up for most of the grade. The expectations were outlined as clearly as they could be. 

You didn't really know anything about Professor Getou at the time, only that his ratemyprofessor described him as somewhat strict but mostly good. 

In any case, you'd consider yourself lucky. And in an effort not to freak out about your circumstances, you'd practically chanted to yourself each night the same mantra. Everything was going to be fine. You've taken nearly 120 hours of coursework, and a little extra time won't kill you. At the start of the semester, you fully believed it too. Bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and utterly naive.

How could a single course torment you like this? You hadn't the faintest clue. At first, it struck you as odd that the course felt as difficult to grasp as it did. The readings were complex and extremely long but always said a lot of nothing. Much of your grade was dependent not only on assigned work but participation and discussion. The paper criteria was only simple on the surface, but proved to be too lengthy to comprehend and too difficult to fulfill. 

Long story short, the class was kicking your ass. And the ass-kicking slowly progressed into a failure so bad it was laughable. You're in your final year, and that means taking a lot of difficult and specified courses in relation to your major. You were at the point where your classmates were starting to thin out, and you were seeing the same group of people you had as a freshman. As far as prioritizing goes, a 3-credit hour course that isn't technically meaningful to you falls to the very bottom of your priorities. You're more concerned with things like job-hunting and finishing your capstone and all the stuff related to your actual career. 

So you've been half-assing all the papers and exams, falling asleep in class, and lowkey straight up ignoring the weekly discussion boards. 

However, above everything else, the worst part of your class is your professor. Professor Getou Suguru. PhD in Comparative Ethics with a Masters in Cognitive Science. 

You didn't really have a chance to speak with any of your friends about Professor Getou, despite it being in your best interest - because you only knew you had the class two days before it started. You'd come to learn only two things about him after attending. First, he's a complete hardass when it comes to grading any assignments, and second most of his merit comes from the fact he is ridiculously good-looking. 

He can't be any older than his late thirties or early forties, which means he's young. Young enough to be attractive but old enough for most of your peers to thirst for him in unhealthy ways. He's at least a decade and a half older than you, and by god does he make it clear. 

What they don't tell you about college is that there's nothing that can make or break a class more than your professor. Everyone is always too worried about everything else, about getting their schedule right - that they often overlook this basic tenet of college life even though it's so crucial. The worst part is that while various websites rating your professors are helpful, you won't truthfully know how you feel about a professor until you've met them in a classroom. You've had professors with lower ratings be absolute angels, and professors with higher ones being some of the most useless in your entire academic career. 

You were hoping that Professor Suguru would be what you expected. That his astounding 4.5/5 would be a meaningful assessment of his character, that he would be tolerable and polite and understanding and that your semester would be smooth sailing because of it. 

But of course, of course - that couldn't be further from the truth.

You don't know at what point exactly your relationship to Professor Suguru became as sour as it is right now. There's no real pivotal movement where mild intolerance became full-blown and outright distaste. But part of it, you know, stems from the fact your beloved professor is a snake. 

You have no idea how no one else notices it. It genuinely feels like you're the only one who catches the subtleties of his behavior. There's just something about him that's a little…off. The irony isn't lost on you. He's an ethics professor, but something about him makes alarm bells go off in your head. A walking red flag, though a handsome one. He's off in a subtle way, but more than that - he's very openly smug to every single one of his students. It's just that no one else seems to really care. The air of pretension that surrounds him in his every movement is suffocating. Maybe that's part of the charm, if the way girls flock to him after class is anything to go by. 

Even so, you just know there's something deliberate about his casual cruelties. He always seems to pick out the quiet kids, and from the beginning of your semester to now - he always, always manages to single you out of the crowd of students. In every class, in every discussion, in every chance he has to make you out to be a troublemaker he will. 

Yes, you don't really have any idea how it started. But you've been keeping a long record of every single act of personal terror that damned man has been inflicting on you since the start of the course, and you're not unconvinced that your shit grade is in part because he wants to see you grovel in front of him. 

The first time it happened - you figure it was a coincidence. He had called you out in class after you missed a discussion board. You hadn't done the reading, and it wasn't obviously humiliating but it singled you out all the same. When you fumbled coming up with an answer, he gave you a smug smile that so quickly morphed into a fake sincere one, you wondered if you were imagining things. 

The second time was when you came in late after a walk of shame, and Professor Suguru greeted you by the door by asking if those were the same clothes you wore yesterday. After being completely mortified by it, the once dark gaze immediately rescinded to his usual fake-calm self. It was suspicious, but not the concrete evidence you needed. 

And the third time was after your first project of the semester. Your grade was lower than you deserved, and you knew it - so you went to his office hours to bitch and moan to get it bumped up. But he wouldn't budge, saying that he thought his assessment was accurate. Made a smug face as he told you he just didn't think you thought your points out through. Unfair critiques shielded by flowery words and polite gestures. It was that moment that cemented the dislike, though it wasn't the start.

The beginning of the end, so to speak.

Ever since then, you've harbored nothing but dislike for him. You can see past his pretty face and you don't see anything good. You've had unpleasant professors before, but none have ever targeted you so specifically. None of your previous professors, even at the worst, seemed to hold such an unbelievable personal grudge. 

You're all alone, fighting an invisible battle. 

The worst of it though, is that you simply couldn't be bothered to give a shit about it for most of the semester. You had way too much going on, so you just had to put up with the inexplicable dread of attending that class until you had to deal with it again eventually. 

And after months and months of avoiding the issue head-on, you're at a point where you can no longer do so. Your grade is officially below a C after bombing your last quiz, and there's only 5 weeks left until your semester is over and you're barred from graduation. 

And you have no fucking idea what you should do about the situation. 

__

There's a subtle pit of dread in your stomach as you enter your first philosophy lecture of the week. 

For the first time since the start of the semester, Professor Getou doesn't antagonize you as soon as you enter the door. In a strange way, this makes you kind of uncomfortable. He gives you his usual fake smile, but the fact he's gone out of his way to leave you alone makes you feel like he's planning something. 

You brush your paranoia aside as you take a seat in the back of your class. You don't have any friends in this lecture, at least not ones you do more than greet. You sit closer to the back of the lecture hall, tucked into a corner and up a few steps.

The charms on the end of your book bag zippers click together as you take your seat. You open your laptop - pulling up the lecture slides to pretend to study while opening 2048 to play while Professor Getou goes on about his business. You're hoping he's going to go easy on you today, and that his lack of interference is a sign of mercy. 

More people start to trickle in and the classroom is the usual amount of packed it is by this point in the semester. The last day to drop passed last week, so the number of students has decreased despite it being spring semester. 

Your professor starts his lecture as soon as the clock hits 11:30am. You look up from your computer, watching him as he sets up his slide deck and waits for all the conversation to settle before he begins talking.

He catches your eyes briefly before he continues, but he holds it for long enough that you know it's intentional. You frown at him, and it almost looks like he laughs - but you can't be sure your mind isn't tricking you into thinking that. 

"Good morning everybody," His voice is smooth and pleasant - hair tied up neatly. He's wearing his usual attire. Black slacks, and a loose-fitting white shirt with some kind of canvas shoe. "How's everybody hanging in there? Good? Bad?" 

He takes a look around the room, gauging peoples replies before chuckling. 

"Not in good shape huh? Stick it out, a few more weeks and you'll be out of here. Today, we're going to continue on into section five of our coursework - the shortest of all of our other sections," He grabs something that clicks the slide into the next one, a few images next to a wall of text "We have a lot to cover in the last few weeks, but I want to start with a refresh of what concepts we've been learning for the last few weeks." 

The swiftness in the way his eyes land on you is comical in its predictability. You give him an uncomfortable half-smile as he calls your name and brings the class's attention your way. A few looks of pity don't go unnoticed. You stiffen, straighten your back as he says your name slowly before asking. 

"Do you think you can tell me, what are the four core structures that define modern Japanese philosophical thinking?" 

There's real, uncomfortable weight to his gaze that makes you choke. You pull back slightly. 

"Uhm, well - there's Shintoism, Confucianism, Buddhism and western ideology. Primarily German idealism."

He gives you a smug look, the same one you always see before it fades off to an uncannily brilliant smile. Not a sincere one, because when is it ever - but there all the same. 

"Someone's been studying hard huh? But you are correct. We've spent the majority of this class going over the first three. How Shinto tradition, Confucianism, and Buddhism were experienced in Japan - isolated from Anglo-Saxon influence for the first few centuries of its establishment. We've also studied the vague historical timeline of these influences, mostly focusing on modern philosophy. We've covered Edo period philosophy as a precursor for what we know and understand now." 

You can say a lot about Professor Getou, but more than anything - he has a certain way of commanding the room's attention that never lets you get completely comfortable. He has an air of charisma you've never seen in your life and being in close proximity to it makes you feel like you're being swept in by waves larger than life. 

You fidget almost anxiously as you wait for him to continue his lesson.

"Our last few weeks are going to cover the culmination of your previous lessons, and what dictates both national morality and the hierarchy of modern Japanese social mores - Bushido. The way of the Samurai." 

Professor Getou continues with this slide deck as he outlines Bushido conceptually. From its existence as a moral code in late 12th century Japan, to the many misconceptions about the strictness in which it was adhered. He starts the lessons like he starts many others, explaining misconception and myth before touching the surface of the subject at hand. 

It's in his nature to advocate for the whole truth. From the start of your classes to now, Professor Getou always places the same emphasis. If only that truth is unable to be understood without opposition. It's like his whole being is constructed by it, opposition that is always radical and jaw-dropping. You've known this about him since he voiced his open critique for certain ideas about social welfare and about the emphasis of national morality. 

You can't be certain what he really believes - only that he'll voice his views as critically as possible, if only to stir the room. 

"Bushido is the heart and soul of modern and postmodern Japanese ethics, but it remains critically undefined despite its usage and citation functionally. Other philosophical schools of thought have strict definitions - Bushido is evolutionary in nature. Inazo Nitobe is primarily credited with the modern and popular interpretation of Bushido, but has received criticism for its obvious influence from Western ideas, and its comparison to chivalry."

Professor Getou sits back on the edge of his desk with a look on his face. 

"The tendency of Japanese philosophy to lean into metaphysics does not align with the many values of infrastructure and military present in the culture now, but I'm not going to critique the philosophy for you," He skips to the next slide, your last project of the semester on the wall "For the sake of brevity, I'm going to have you write a paper on one of the eight outlined ideals in Nitobe's work, and I want you to reflect on that ideal in your paper." 

A collective whispering erupts in the class as people stress about the assignment of their final few weeks. Not unexpected given the circumstances. Professor Getou doesn't flinch as he waits for the room to settle down.

"This will be your final project in this classroom, and will count as your final grade. On one hand, doing a good job on it means you have nothing to worry about for the last few weeks. On the other it's make or break," He locks eyes with you again as he says this, startling you as his smile grows coy and inauspicious "So if you're in need of a good grade to pass you, I'd recommend coming to see me during office hours or during one-on-one time so I can get you the grade you need. We'll discuss more at the end of class, but we've gotta get through more lectures so you can get an idea of what you can pick."

He gives you one another look, another pointed and obviously direct look, before he proceeds on with his lecture. It gives you a bad feeling in your stomach, and maybe you're being too self-centered thinking he's focusing too much on you.

But you can't help it, swallowing down your uncertainty as you continue on with the lesson. 

You need to pass this class. 

___ 

You meet up with Nobara after the fact. 

She's a good sounding board for your problems as usual. Where you're always looking for the most civil solutions, she's good at giving it to you straight on what you should do. She's no bullshit and you like that about her. Whenever you need a kick in the ass or an ounce of courage, she's the person for the job.

 So after meeting up for lunch, ranting again about Professor Getou (for the hundredth—no, thousandth time), and whining about his weird behavior, you're expecting some semi-sound, if not mean advice on what you should do. 

"Have you thought about just fucking him?" She says instead, her voice full of sincere boredom. It comes out so casually, like she's relaying the news cycle to you - and you can't help but be utterly shocked listening to it. "Not that it was my first suggestion, but I mean…it's getting ridiculous." 

"Hello? Where the hell did that come from? What do you mean just fucking him?" 

She gives you a sideways glance of disdain as if you were the one saying something unreasonable. She leans forward into her hand mirror, gluing on her eyelashes for her afternoon date with Maki. She scoffs when she realizes your shock is genuine. 

"Are you serious? Does this not read as an elaborate scheme for this total jackass to fuck you?" 

You're flabbergasted. Surely she's not being serious with you. 

"Nobara." 

"Haah? Tch. Don't make that face. It's a gross abuse of his power but well, he's not ugly. If he were any younger of a professor, would you like… not assume that was the end game?" 

"Nobara, he's a professor of ethics. His whole career is ethics." 

"Yeah. Like. The perfect cover for wanting to screw his wide-eyed, desperate students. He's a hot, young professor. Not my type but you get me. Don't you think it's a little naive to assume his personal vendetta against you is shit, I don't know… totally lacking that motive? Think with your brain, not your tender little heart for a minute, okay?" 

"It's not that!" 

"Really? Just like your relationship with Mr. Fushiguro is totally platonic?" 

"I said it was one-sided, not platonic." 

"You're my whole heart and soul, you know that right? I didn't freak on you when you said you had a crush on Megumi's deadbeat dad. You're my salvation from the idiots we call guy friends. So I'm saying this with love, and not as the complete bitch you know me as - you're being dumb." 

"Nobara, are you seriously saying you think this whole thing is about him wanting to," You can barely even get the words out. You're not that much of a prude but god. "Wanting to have… sex with me?" 

"Yeah. What else would it even be? I think an awful man is interested in screwing you - a hot, capable twenty-something. Are you stupid? Is that like, sooo impossible for you to consider?"

"Well it's not the first place I would think to go, that's for sure." 

"And that's your whole problem. Don't get me wrong, again, totally gross. Is it like.. a total abuse of his authority? Yeah. But that doesn't have anything to do with you personally. If I'm right, and you fuck him - you get a good lay and to graduate. And you need both."

"Nobara!"

"Don't be mad, I love you, okay? But I'm thinking about your future and your prospects. There's nothing wrong with it on a technical level."

"That is so untrue and you know it—"

"Look. I don't like it. I think it's a weak move and kind of corny and gross. But you've been planning your big graduation for years. And it's not a bad opportunity, and you're not a complete idiot. You said before that he's never inappropriate with the other girls right? You might even be the only one. As far as I'm concerned, there's no reason for you to not get laid and pass." 

"Oh, so the student-teacher thing isn't reason enough?" 

"Not if you wanna graduate it's not." 

The two of you remain at a stand-still as his words trap you into a corner. How the hell do you even deal with this information? And how on Earth is she so sure of herself anyways? You think you're pretty good with signs, at least about things like this.

But it doesn't feel like flirting. He's never flirted with any of the students in class, despite how much they seem to fawn over him. Could this weird, psychological dance you've been doing for the last twelve weeks be some sort of unspoken foreplay ritual? 

The more you think about it, the less it seems implausible to you. There's a wave after that, some cross between impending doom and shameful arousal blooming up inside of you as everything hits you all at the same time. 

When you return to reality after being trapped in your thoughts, Nobara gives you a mindful (almost pitiful) smile and shakes her head. You frown at her in reply, squeezing the bridge of your nose. 

"If it were like literally anyone else, I'd totally tell them it's a bad idea. But it's not like you're going on to date him, and you're what - 24? because of your gap year so you're not a preteen like some of the freshmen in your class. I just don't see any reason not to go for it." 

You tamp down the small voice in the back of your head, encouraging you to do - and instead ask her a follow-up question. 

"...Do you think I should attend his office hours tomorrow, yes or no? I have to email him by tonight to get the one on one." 

"Yeah. Yes. And shave before you go." 

__

You decide, for the sake of your sanity and everyone else's - to ignore Nobara's odd implications about what Professor Getou wants from you and to attend his office hours.

(That's a partial lie, you figure - given the fact you did shave, and shower before attending. You're wearing something kind of nice underneath. But you still don't think he wants to fuck you. It's more of a safety precaution than anything else.)

 You made the game plan last night that you would go, present your idea, and then beg him to be kind to you during the grading process. You even developed a list of things to sob and cry about it to generate something of a sob story if everything went awry. You've forsaken your pride. The only thing that you need to get out of this meeting is a passing grade. 

And that is, of course, by any means necessary. 

Fearing for your life, the state of your mood improves as you approach the building hosting Professor Getou's office. Of all of the people you interact with semi-regularly on campus (all of which you are quite fond of), Nobara wasn't lying about your affection for campus security guard - Toji Fushiguro.

He's an older man. Older than you by double digits, and from what you can tell - older than even your professor. You've been fond of him ever since he brought you back to your dorm after a horrible break-up with your ex as a sophomore. He's got a rough edge, and there's plenty of unverified rumors of his past. You know that he has something of a criminal record too. 

But for all of those rumors, and for all the things you hear about him - he's been one of the highlights of your campus experience. You've had a one-sided school-girl crush on him ever since that night, because you were sober enough to catch his body and how it feels. He was strong. Not in an average way. He made it so effortless when he was carrying you home in his arms - and it's not the first time you've seen him lug around things at least over 300 pounds like they were nothing. 

But attractiveness aside, he is uncharacteristically good at cheering you up. He's funny and witty, all while maintaining a cool facade. He's endearing in his own way too, and you're a little head over heels for him though you'd never push yourself to make the first move. 

Still, when he sees you come towards the building - he greets you with a wide smile. The scar over his busted lip - split open and welcoming as you run up to him for a hug. He's normally patrolling around campus, so it feels lucky to catch him where you least expect. 

He wraps you up with a single arm, your feet temporarily lifting from the ground before you get put back down again. 

"Mr. Fushiguro, what are you doing here?"

"I got moved over here since there's been some rumor about someone stealing from the labs upstairs. So I'm on lock up duty for this building 'till it gets fixed up and solved," He says, voice as smooth as ice "What about you sweetheart? It's gonna get dark out soon." 

"Ah, I have office hours with Professor Getou today. I need to consult with him about a paper." 

"That right? Just gonna be you in there, then?" 

"Yep. I'm gonna go in there and beg him for a good grade on our next assignment. So for the sake of my sanity, please wish me luck?" 

Mr. Fushiguro tilts his head to one side, grinning. 

"Wouldn't that mean you graduate sooner instead of later? Can't wish ya luck on that." He says, making you flush and letting the feeling linger before continuing "Just kiddin'. A pretty face like yours should do you just fine. Knock 'em dead." 

"I feel a lot better about it with your encouragement." You say honestly. Mr. Fushiguro gives you a laugh.

"Treat me to something if my luck makes any difference. And hurry in. Last thing you'd wanna do is be late." 

You nod, wide-eyed and dazed by how charismatic he is before you rush into the building. It's silent, given how late in the school day it is. Most people have already gone home, with the exception of the other poor souls likely chasing down their professors for the same reasons as you. 

You feel an overwhelming sensation of dread as you encroach upon Professors Getou's office. There's no one else in the close vicinity, only a few closed classrooms and students who are passing by the small corner where his door resides - most of which are making their way to leave. 

You decide to take a deep breath, calming your shaken nerves before knocking politely once on his door and entering the room. 

Professor Getou's office looks like how you'd expect it to look. It's clean, and sleek - and lacking almost completely of items of personal effect with the exception of his desk. It's the first time you've ever been inside of the room before, but it smells distinctly of him. He has that same scent surrounding him, like flicks of nicotine and a hint of bergamot. Sweet with the taste of metallic bitterness, like blood and sugar.

You feel the back of your throat bob as you see your Professor sitting at his desk. It's lacking his usual gracefulness. His shirt is unbuttoned down by three entire buttons, and his slacks seem looser. Most notable is his hair - classically long, now in a loose bun with pieces falling all on his shoulders and rolling down his neck. 

You think of what Nobara said to you earlier in the day alone, a strange and overwhelming sensation of lust and embarrassment making it difficult for you to open your voice and talk.

It's Professor Getou who greets you first. He looks up from whatever he was reading and looks at you from where you stand awkwardly at his door. His smile widens, though it's just by a little. 

"Ah, I was wondering when you'd be here. Looks like you're right on time." He says first, sitting up in his chair but not bothering to gather himself in any way otherwise "Come on in and sit. I assume you're here to talk about your grade."

 You sit across from him hesitantly, hands folded in your lap as you put your bag down on the floor. 

He studies you quietly. There's a long stretch of silence, where neither of you do anything but sit in each other's company.

He breaks the silence first.

"So, while I have a guess," He says, elbows on his desk "Do you want to talk to me about what you're here for?" 

You've practiced the dialogue in your head so many times now. What to do and how to say what you need too, but the words seem to fizzle out completely when it's time to really say them. Leaving nothing but uncertainty, you open your mouth only to close it once again. 

"Uhm," Your voice strains trying to make the words out into a coherent sentence. "I came to talk about my paper. And my grade, like you mentioned in class."

"So you decided to heed my advice? Good girl, that was a smart choice," You try not to be taken aback by the pet name - unsure if it's as inappropriate as you think it is "Do you know what virtue you want to cover?" 

"I thought I would pick uhm, righteousness - and then pull from some of the Western ethics we learned about. Making uh, connections between deontological ethics and duty and how it relates to the defined idea of righteousness," You explain nervously, an uncomfortable laugh bubbling out of your throat "How practicing duty and righteousness relate to each other."

 "Hmm. Sounds like you've had time to think about it a little, then."

"I uhm, haven't finished the reading but I did take a look over my section to see if I could make it work." 

"I think you have something to work with. You'll need to straighten out the thesis of your paper into something more tangible. I know that's an ironic ask. But I think it's a good idea," He gives you a brief glance, studies you with eyes. Snake-like. Something coils inside of you, tickles and brushes against your skin and makes the hairs on the back of your neck raise "It seems like you have something more to tell me, though." 

Do you? Is there anything more there? The answer lies indifferently on a scale from obviously to no. nothing at all and it haunts you that he's able to pick it out. 

"It's just well. Uhm. You know, I don't have the best grade in this class so I was more prepared to go down with my grade. You approved quicker than I thought you would." 

"Your grade is pretty abysmal. Did you come in here planning to beg?" 

You refrain from an instant yes, even though it's what you feel. Something about the way he says it makes your stomach clench. Your heart quickens. Your tongue feels too heavy in your mouth as you laugh uncomfortably. 

"Something like that? Uhm, or at least try to hash things out between us. I know our relationship over the c-course of the semester has been kind of sour so I…"

He cuts you off.

"Has it?" 

Your brain stutters to halt.

"Uhm. Yes?"

It's unpredictable, utterly and completely - the way he reflects on your words like you've said something incomprehensible. You aren't sure if that's sincere. You can't be sure if any of the words out of his mouth are. But he doesn't seem like he's lying. Your mind flashes to Nobara, and you find yourself speaking before you can stop it. It comes out like a flood.

 "I j-just always assumed you singled me out in class because you didn't like me? I don't mean to be accusatory, though."

"I'm afraid you've got the wrong idea," He says, shaking his head "I don't harbor any negative feelings for you at all."

"Oh," You say, eyes falling down to your lap again "Right, then." 

"You must be desperate for that passing grade, hm? If you're meeting with a professor you think hates you." 

You glance at him. 

"Well, yes. I want—need to pass this class. I've already planned my graduation for this semester." 

"And you'd be willing to do anything for that, is what you're implying?" 

"Yes," You say, with a sudden rush of unwavering confidence "Anything." 

"Let me ask you another question, then." He lets his elbows rest on the edge of his table, a familiar coy smile "Do you think there's any other reason for why I've been paying special attention to you, aside from me disliking you? You're a smart girl, so I'm sure you'll be able to figure it out." 

The weight of his words don't go unnoticed. The air feels heavy as it hangs between you. He couldn't be implying it so directly could he? Your mind drifts back to Nobara's warning to you, and your breath hitches. Your eyes widen as you glance up for the first time and give him a look of mild distress. 

And he smiles. His grin widens as soon as it dawns on you.

"Seems like you've reached an important conclusion," He says, casually - as he sits up in his chair and leans back. Stretched like nothing could get in his way "Why don't you share with the class?" 

"You," Your voice is a nervous tremor. You must be crazy. You must be completely out of your mind "...To sleep with me?" 

"See? I told you, you're a smart girl." 

The question is a burning one. One you've been wanting to ask since you started thinking about it last night. 

"B-but…why? And why me? A-and," 

"You have a tendency for being combative. You know that? An air of defiance. I can tell you're a little older than your peers. A little wiser, and a little more knowing of when to ask for help," Getou outlines, staring you down "And seeing you with that sense of desperation was exciting for me. I'm a man of simple tastes. At my age, I know what I want." 

"And I like when tough, combative, clever women turn into babbling, desperate, needy girls. I'm quite fond of it, actually." 

He's detrimentally serious. Your stomach flips. 

"Do you want to pass this class?" He asks you, an air of confidence surrounding him. You close your eyes, unsure if you can call it coercion when you're feeling so terribly willing about it. 

"Yes. I need to pass." 

"Then come up here," He gestures, widens his legs and leans back in his chair "And sit." 

Your body is burning. You don't know if you're even really in the situation, or if you've daydreamed it into something impossible. Something phantom moves you. Stands you to your feet shakily before walking in short strides. Professor Getou looks at you from where you stand over him. 

His hand brushes your outer thigh, patting it. 

"Sit." 

So you sit. You spread yourself and straddle your professor - and the reality dawns on you the minute you touch what you're doing. You haven't gotten laid in a bit, and he's nothing like anyone you've ever slept with. You feel out of your element. You get the impression he's a man, a grown one. There's a confidence in him that looms and looms and looms, overshadowing any of your doubt.

He's sexier up close. There's the faintest trace of smile lines on his expression as you look down at him. He guides your arms to loop around your neck, and holds your hips with his hands. 

Then you feel it, almost instantly - something hard and bulging pressing against the seam of your pants and against your crotch. He's already half-hard and he hasn't even kissed you. He grins at you lazily, like a cat with cream. 

"I'll pass you as soon as I put it in," His hands are so big - long, slender fingers gripping your ass "And give you extra credit when you cum for me. How's that sound?" 

You feel dirty. It's all happening so fast. Almost vulgar, but it's impossible to feel cheap. To believe in the wrongness of it when Professor Getou is so undeniably sexy. Wrong, on so many levels, to do this for the sake of your grade. Or just in general. Yet you want it, yearn for it, find the culmination of all your annoyances melting as he graces you himself. 

"I wanna pass," You say, uncharacteristically nervous about everything. You add the next part a little quieter "...I want it." 

"What do you want, exactly?" 

"Want you to fuck me." You admit, against your better judgment "Please?" 

"Gonna make a real pretty mess out of you," He says, voice smooth and serene. You look down at him. His knuckles brush against your jaw, on your cheek before his thumb holds on your lower mouth. His fingers push past the edge of your lips, sliding against your tongue and gently running along your teeth. He gags you on it, so slightly - enough to startle you but not enough to hurt. You feel spit pour from your lips. 

Thick messy strings of drool drip down the sides of your mouth. You want to back away in shame. But there's an air of intention behind the gesture. It's deliberate, the action - the mess and how it runs down your neck. Before you know it, he's kissing you in that same state. 

Professor Getou kisses like he's done it before.

His hands grip on your ass as he kisses hot and heavy. Self-assured, he sucks and bites at your mouth - sticking his tongue in and mixing his saliva with yours in a way that feels downright dirty. Yet it makes you throb, white-hot flames licking at the back of your thighs. The sparks of arousal crawl up your skin. 

Your nerves tighten as Professor Getou cups your face with one palm, kissing you with fervor. You melt into him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. 

"Been thinking about what you would look like bent over my desk all semester," He says as he pulls away, looking on with admiration at your messy complexion "You wanna go on ahead and show me?"

Another wave of embarrassment washes over you, but you find yourself standing to your feet. Sliding your sweats off down your legs - your lower half is left bare with the exception of your feet. You lay or stomach on his desk, the cold wood sending chills up your whole body and your stomach and tits lay flat and squishy against the hard material. You stand, shoulder width apart, and present yourself in front of him. 

"That's what I like to see," His voice is rich and deep as he speaks. You can feel him inch towards you, pulling you apart with his palms before his hand comes down on your ass in one hard motion. The noise echoes against the walls of the room "See, I knew you could listen well when you had to." 

You don't say anything in reply, pressing your cheek against the desk. 

"W-what do I call you?" You ask, your voice trembling. You feel his fingers against the seam of your panties. He snaps the cotton waistband against your skin before humming thoughtfully, a light tap to your ass. 

"Getou is fine. Suguru is too. Sir if that makes you more comfortable."

 Getou makes a show of fondling you, though you can't see it - you can feel the way his eyes nearly swallow your naked lower half. How his fingers touch and prod all of your sensitive places, with some kind of keen observation. Everything Getou says is like that, keen and particular.

"Such a pretty pussy on you. Would've been such a waste if you didn't come to me."

You don't bother to ask what he means by that. Behind you, there's a noise. Of a chair rolling back, and the dull thud of knees hitting the ground. Before you know what's happening, there's a face dangerously close to your clothed pussy. The minute you try to squirm, there's a tight grip keeping you in place. He takes a deep breath. Without any real hesitance, you feel his tongue lick across the clothed material. 

In one fell swoop, he pulls your panties to one side and kisses your clit without any more real introduction. You're gripping the edge of the table you're bent over as you feel his tongue slide against the wet folds of your pussy, making your voice cry out involuntarily. Normally people would urge you to be quiet, but you got the feeling he didn't care if anyone heard you crying out for him. You get a second wave of intuition telling you he might even like it. 

A sensation of bliss washes over you as he sucks hungrily at your cunt. It feels good enough to be holy. There's such immense expertise in it that you can't help but succumb to it completely. The warm, heavy muscle gliding over sticky folds.

You're so lost in the pleasure, your mind completely blocks out the intrusion. The sense that would detect another person in the room disappears completely. You only know because of Getou, the way he stops and scoffs. It forces you to blink your eyes open. He speaks before you get the chance. 

"What are you doing here?" 

You recognize the voice instantly, and your heart drops through your stomach. 

"Thought I heard a ghost howling," Mr. Fushiguro says, his voice is rougher and deeper and older "Turn out it was just a little girl wanderin' into the woods." 

"If you can see I'm busy, why're you still here?"

You can't help but feel the second wave of overwhelming shock as you sit there, naked and unafraid. Still, they stand like nothing is wrong. Chat like they know each other somehow, but you have no idea in which way. All you can focus on is the bubbling, nauseating shame. 

"Oh god." You voice, but both others ignore. Mr.Fushiguro speaks first.

"This one is off-limits, Suguru. What kinda professor goes around fuckin' their innocent little students?"

"Just the one, Mr. Fushiguro. And I'd like to get back to business."

"Ah, no way I'm letting you off the hook. I could report this y'know? Make headlines. Ethics professor coerces student into sexual activity. It'd be big. 

Your heart drops. 

"Fuck off, would you? Does she look coerced?" 

A beat of silence. "Nah. Not with the way she's twitchin'. But it's not fun if I just let you go. How about you tap me in and I'll keep your little secret hm? She's gotta cute crush on me already."

Your heart flounces around in your chest, a muffled noise of shock escaping your lips as you squirm to move but are held, still, so firmly in place. Your expression and feelings all go through 5 stages of grief before settling at dumbfounded. They don't especially ask for your input, but you hear Professor Getou behind you.

"Fine, if it'll get you to shut up. And I'm fucking her first."

Strange. Nothing about today makes any sense. You don't miss the almost childish sense of competition in Getou's voice that changes your view of him in an instant. Humanizes him in the strangest and most unrecognizable ways. It lacks his usual virtue.

Mr. Fushiguro walks up in front of you, imposing. He's grinning, a well-worn smile on his face that you know. He helps you up, and you keep yourself upright on your arms as he grabs your chin with his palms. You look up at him wide-eyed, unsure of what to do.

"Dirty fucking girl aren't ya?" He says, though he almost sounds like he's impressed with himself 

"You into older men or is it a coincidence you're screwing 'im for your grade?"

You're speechless, and you moan a little pathetically as Getou doesn't stop eating you out. This only seems to make Mr. Fushiguro even more excited. You look up at him through wet lashes, unsure of what to do.

"Don't mind either way, just curious. Guess I'm a little sad 'cause I thought your little heart eyes around me made me special," He tells you this looking down at you, eyes locked. You can tell he's just teasing you, and it makes you twitch "But I guess that's not true, is it?"

"You're different. I uhm. Well it's true at least."

"Yeah? You're just letting both of us fuck you 'cause you're like a bitch 'n heat?"

You flush. He gives you a smile and a well-meaning laugh that makes your body feel warm with heat.

"Mind if we're a little rough on you, sweetheart?"

You shake your head.

"Good. Stick your tongue out and open your mouth for me then."

You listen, oblige the instructions almost obediently. Your face is still covered with spit from before. You watch idly, intently - as Mr. Fushiguro pulls his cock out from his black pants. The loose material covers him well, but as soon as they're down past his thighs - the outline of his cock borders on intrusive. Your eyes widen, fluttering and unfocused because it's hard to think about anything while feeling such intense pleasure.

But Mr. Fushiguro is captivating as he pulls himself out for you. His cock is thick and heavy, protruding but too much that it can't stand up on its own. Weighed down by gravity, you stare at it wide-eyed. It's the size of your forearm, so thick you can't possibly imagine what it feels like.

Your heart stammers. 

"It won't fit in my mouth." You say, gasping for air as if you're already suffocating on it "You're—you're so huge."

He laughs with an edge of snark. You blink at him in complete seriousness, taken aback. He lets the tip of his cock tap the plushness of your cheek before pressing against your lips. You stare at him, almost afraid.

"Of course it'll fit," He says in confidence "Just gotta make sure you're relaxed. So relax, sweetheart, and open your mouth for me." 

Hesitantly, you open your mouth wide. You feel the corners of your lips stretch around the intrusive, thick head of Mr. Fushiguro's cock. The taste of sweat and skin is invasive and heavy, violating your senses. Just the tip and it barely fits in your mouth. You try and concentrate, sticking your tongue out and curling it around the underneath of his cock, focusing on sucking just the tip. He groans above you, a hand on the back of your head. He doesn't force you down, but you can tell by the twitch in his fingers that he wants to.

"Look at you," He says, his voice coarse with restraint and desire "You're drooling on my cock while you're professors busy eatin' your pussy. Thought you were an innocent girl, but now I don't know what to believe."

He says this as he eases more into your mouth, slowly letting you adjust. He rocks his hips back and forth until you relax. You open yourself up, trying to focus on blowing him.

But a hand comes down on your ass, hard and heavy - making you yelp. The noise is muffled but audible. A short squeal, you can't turn your head to look 

"Don't you think you two are getting too comfortable upfront without me? I'm the one who decides your grades."

"Maybe you're not doing good enough for her to care."

You can feel a strange sense of competition between them, but you're too occupied to ask about it. How do they know each other, and for what reason do they seem so automatically hostile? It bothers you, but you can't think about it too hard.

"That's not true. Her pussy is soaking fucking wet." He punctuates his words with a harsh smack against your cunt, the force rippling through your as you bend forward and choke "Almost as messy as her face."

He's quick, again, to latch himself to your clit. He flicks it with his tongue, licking it mercilessly as your brain starts to fog up with desire. Like he's trying to prove a point, you moan around Mr. Fushiguro's cock as your pleasure starts to thrum up again. The back of your legs tense, trembling as a knot begins to uncoil in your lower stomach. The cock in your mouth moves too, using the distracted moans to ease himself even deeper into the wet, arm cavern of your mouth. 

Your head feels heavy, body weak as the both of them use you to their contents. Your stomach starts to stir as a familiar feeling of euphoria claws at you. 

You cum for the first time like that, your body pressed against a wood desk - restrained and under careful watch of two men. Your whole body explodes - white, hot nerves fraying off and ricocheting off your ribs inside of you. Your insides shake as the wave of an orgasm washes over your entire body. You gasp, clenching down hard and gasping as tremors of orgasm pulse and push through your whole body. Something in you ignites as you grip the edge of the desk for your life, trying to keep yourself upright as Getou pushes you through the orgasm. 

You've barely recovered when Mr. Fushiguros pulls out of your mouth, pressing his spit-soaked cock against your face and cheeks with a smile. You let it slide against your tongue, eyes fluttering open as your face gets covered in precum and saliva. 

"You look so fucking filthy right now, you know that? But it looks good on you. I'm dying to fuck you." 

"Mr. Fushiguro," You groan. He clicks his teeth. 

"Toji's just fine sweetheart." 

You whimper helplessly as you ride out your high. Behind you, your professor pulls away. You peek behind you to see him, flush as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

Toji looks down at your frazzled expression with a grin, teeth showing as he cups your jaw a second time and slides his cock back in one go. This time, he pushes his cock in the base - keeping your throat around him with a hand on the back of your head. 

"Just focus on me for now, baby. Focus on sucking me off, yeah? Just like that, easy easy. He's gonna open you up. Stretch you nice and make your pussy all sloppy. That's what you want right?" 

Getou leans over you, the weight of his body looming as you feel slender fingers slide through your sticky folds. His middle and index brush against your abused clit, rubbing a few circles into it before pulling away. He grabs your arms and positions them behind your back, gripping them in one hand to keep you restrained. You squirm against the gesture, unable to get any leeway as he holds you down. Then you feel his fingers move, middle finger catching on your wet hole as it trembles and sticks. He opens you up like this without any warning. 

His middle finger goes first - delicately intrusive as your pussy widens to accommodate him. They're so much bigger than yours. Just one feels like two of your own. You push back out of instinct but Getou doesn't let you move. He buries himself, pushing in and out until he's able to fuck your pussy all the way down to the knuckle. Once there's no longer any resistance, he pulls back and makes room for another. The sensation is duller, lets you clear your head and think even as Toji rubs his cock on your face and fucks your mouth in short ruts. 

Not enough to make you choke, but enough to smear something hot and nasty all over you. 

Professor Getou repeats the process with his pointer, pushing and stretching and opening until you can't fight it anymore. With two fingers, he scissors them trying to make your insides soft enough for him to take you. 

"You're stretching out for me like it's nothing. You must be turned on, hm? Like getting all your holes used like this? Getting your face-fucked by a man old enough to be your father?" 

Toji laughs harshly, smacking your face lightly, enough it doesn't hurt but enough to make you feel it. 

"She loves it. She's clenching down on you tight ain't she?" 

"Sure is. All this for a grade. Maybe I should've bullied you about it a little more first. Since you're so eager." 

"Gonna give her extra credit for this?"

"I should deduct points for the fact you're even near here."

He laughs good-naturedly at this point, and you're still having trouble making sense of their relationship. You manage to speak for the first time in forever, voice barely there as you go to question them. You're not expecting any solid answers. 

"How do you two know each other?" You ask, before Toji starts fucking your mouth again 

"Goes a long way back. And we're still on bad terms, so congrats on bringing us together, sweetheart. Kind of an expected reunion really." 

"He's been working here since Professor Gojo and I were students here and we knew him from before. A long story. Don't worry your pretty little head about it." 

The burning question is quick to fade out of your mind as you feel your professor's clothed bulge rest against your cunt. You moan, a clipped needy sound as you nearly beg him to fuck you. Toji bends over you this time, reaching back to spread your pussy open by grabbing your ass. You can feel the grip of his hands, strong and assured. 

"She's gettin' impatient. Give it to her." 

"Don't need your help with that." Getou spits, irritation sounding in his words. 

"Consider it an apology." 

The air of tension is there temporarily, before Getou pulls his cock from the confines of his boxers. You can't see it, eyes squeezed tight as you work your mouth and tongue Toji's length. You can feel it though. He makes a show of rubbing his cock against your puffy, sore cunt. You get a feel for its shape as he pushes it between your thighs and lets it cling in between your lips. Professor Getou's cock is longer and more narrow, but it curves upright. It's hard, throbbing between your legs. Whining helplessly you wiggle your ass again. You feel increasingly restless about needing something inside of you. You're still bound though, completely and utterly unable to move. Toji's hand comes down heavy on your ass as you do, clicking his teeth in faux irritation. 

"Don't fucking move unless you want my handmark on your ass forever," He says, his voice cool and forgiving "Impatient." 

Getou must feel something inside of him merciful enough to keep you waiting. Even with all the stretching and prep, the minute you feel the head of your cock push through - something inside of you snaps. It's still so big, still too much, still reaches a part of you so deep you didn't know it was there. The position itself - still being on your stomach, makes it reach so much farther than other positions. The raw, skin-to-skin contact leaves your tummy fluttering, skin prickling with heat. Your top is pushed up enough to expose your lower back and your skin is pulsing. You feel like your whole body is on fire, suspended between men so much older than that want nothing more than to fuck you.

Every time you try to wiggle away from the sensations, Toji's hand comes down heavy on your backside. It doesn't matter how minuscule the movement. If he gets the idea that you're going to try and pull away, he spanks you hard enough that the room echoes with the sound. Your skin tingles, phantom sensation left before as you're held open and made to take your professor's cock - obedient and wanting. 

Inch by miserable inch, it takes forever to take him down to the base. Your toes curl, eyes shut and mouth sloppily trying to keep up with the cock in your mouth and just barely succeeding. 

He groans behind you, shuddering 

"That's incredible," He praises, and it feels so good to hear him saying something so overtly kind you don't know if you want to laugh or cry "Your pussy is fucking incredible. Shit."

"You hear that? You gotta. Pussy's twitchin' like crazy. Ass is too, how cute." 

"Feels sho good," You slur, brain clear of any and all rational thought as a string of saliva drips down your chin "Please fuck me, please,"

"You heard her teach."

Toji lets go of you and returns back to where you are. He pulls his cock away from you, instead holding you up and cupping your mouth open. He kisses you, after everything - with all of his pre-spend in your mouth before spitting into it harshly and kissing it again.

"Such a pretty face you're makin' right now." He says, something of a warm and unprecedented affection to it "So excited to get your pussy filled up."

He leans you on him, lets you wrap around his midriff, and squeeze tight while he pets the back of your hair in a strange streak of affection. You don't know what to make of anything. All you can feel is the long cock pounding into you without any mercy. Razor-sharp thrusts, nudging against your swollen g-spot and pounding into your cunt with immeasurable force. A man so much older than you is fucking you, pounding your pretty little pussy, and turning you into a complete mess. He's meant to be a mentor to you, but he has his cock imprinting itself inside of you over and over and over.

Your stomach feels hot again, but some other feeling takes you over as Toji cradles you - watching you just as intently. He talks you through with confidence you can't entirely understand.

"Yeah, that's it. Tighten up for him, just like that. Feels good doesn't it? I know baby, I know."

You whine out in Toji's arms as he talks you through it. Behind you, you feel Getou's grip hold you tight as he pistons you. The sound of his thighs smacking against your ass is noisy, almost as noisy as your pussy. Slick wet, sounding each time he thrusts.

"I'm not gonna last like this, shit." He pumps into you a few more types before his hips stutter to a halt. He cums with his cock buried deep inside of you, filling you all the way to the brim. You feel his white, hot seed fill your belly, cock twitching as he unloads and makes your legs shake.

A sense of emptiness overwhelms you as Getou pulls out, landing a hit on your ass as he shakes. He kisses your spine. 

The two of them switch places without communicating with each other about it. Getou pulls out, and away - coming back in front of you and picking you up in his arms as Toji positions himself behind you. He spreads your cunt out with his fingers, examining the seed left over with a light laugh. 

"Gonna fuck into your sloppy little cunt, give you another load where you need it and make you cum." Toji says, not hesitating at all. You feel your breathing start to quicken as he takes the same positions as before. 

Toji doesn't neglect touching you as his arm curls around your waist, calloused fingertips brushing against your clit before his cock pushes into you. Your pussy takes him much easier, but even so - Toji is just so thick, you can't help but feel him all over again. This time, Getou has you in his arms, holding and guiding you. Your hands are curled around his bicep and lower spine as you're held up. 

Toji's thrusts are slower, but just as rhythmic - focused on bringing you to another orgasm. It's duller this time, the sensation more focused and spread. Toji is so big you feel it in your hips, your entire lower half tingling as he pumps his cock in and out of you. He gives you all of his attention, staving off his own orgasm as Getou encourages you with his own words. 

"Gonna cum again, pretty? Take another man's cum in you right after me? You want to, right? Take it all in, every drop. You've earned it."

You feel your insides tighten again, for a second time - in a miraculous span. Every muscle in your body tenses and contracts as both sensations work in tandem to bring you closer to your edge. 

Your nerves fire off a second time as you push yourself to the limit. Toji fucks you through another orgasm with ease, thrusting with each tremor until you've ridden out your high. His own orgasm and chase come not long after that fact. 

As soon as you've gone totally limp underneath him, he sheaths himself as deep as he can. Bent over you, he cums hard and deep, filling you to the brim a second time.

There's a brief moment of silence as Toji rides out his high, where all three of you sit in silence.

You find yourself limp as you lay there, Toji pulling out and Getou slowly letting you down before you look up with a tired expression. 

"...So, did I pass?"

Your professor laughs harder than you've ever seen him laugh.

"With flying colors."

[rindreamery]

hiiiiii. congrats on 300follwrs 🫶🫶🫶 about your event can i request karasu tabito, sweet, kiss on the lips, rivals to lovers if not taken^.^ xo

ORDER 9: READY TO GO !

karasu + sweet + kiss on the lips + rivals to lovers w.c. 1k+

note. this took forever and is lowk booty cheeks 😭 literally right when i gained motivation to write this, got hit with a fever and couldn't write for a few days, and then forgot the plot that i initially thought of for this fic. so here we are... many days later... but i tried my best !!

interested in more? check out the lounge !

group projects are, admittedly, the bane of your existence. 

but your professor loved to dish them out every chance they had, much to your dismay, under the pretense of “helping you form bonds with your peers.” though, it was always the same cycle; agree to work on the project on your own, piece together a slideshow or document using your individual work, turn it in, and hope for the best. in the end, your relationships with your peers remain the same, sometimes worse than before. not friends, simply classmates trying to survive the class, together or not. 

finding yourself stuck in, yet another, project, it takes everything in you to bite back a loud sigh. mentally, you’re throwing darts at a board with your professor standing in front of it. physically, you’re stuck in the library, late into the hours of the afternoon (when you could be taking a nap), endlessly researching about some topic that you, honestly, could care less about. 

but that, itself, isn’t the root of the issue.

writing a project about the effects of dopamine on love should not be complicated. well, at least, not more complicated than just pulling up research articles and getting a few quotes to meet your citation quotas. your issue, more or less, was with your assigned partner. him— karasu.

not that he was a bad person— no, quite the opposite, actually. he was perfect in a way that was so infuriating to you. anything you could do? he could do faster, more efficiently, and produce better results. he could put in half the effort and still come out with something that rivaled, or even topped, your work. that bothered you, and his nonchalance about it all only added to your growing frustrations.

group projects were the bane of your existence, and he was a close second.

even now, as he sits in front of you, doing nothing— he is frustrating. though, you can't explain why.

“if ya stop staring...” his voice slices right through your thoughts. he says it so casually, flipping through his notebook, ignoring the way your glare digs deep into his skin. “dopamine’s what makes people feel good, right?”

“yes,” comes your initial, curt, response. you can’t help the way your eye twitches at his tone, tracking his every move as he actively avoids looking back at you. his eyes are locked onto his notes in front of him, but you know better— he’s not actually reading them. “but it’s also a lot more complicated than that. dopamine affects a lot of things, like our reward systems and motivation. but if we’re talking strictly in the context of love, it’s what makes us feel that rush of excitement when we’re around someone we like.”

he hums at that, pretending to mull over your words. “got any personal experience?”

his question catches you off-guard, and for a second, you find yourself tripping over your words. “what— why do you care? you don’t need to know that.”

“no need to get all defensive.” he responds, once again in that casual tone of his, but mildly amused at the way you react to him. like he’s getting a kick out of making you flustered over his words. "i’m just thinking, to understand how dopamine affects how we see someone, we need to get some real-world data. like, experience it first-hand."

karasu finally looks up from his notes, and he raises a brow at you, anticipating your response.

you see right through him— a lie. this type of research project didn’t require personal understanding, rather, understanding gained from reading other sources. yet, oddly enough, you find yourself entertaining the idea. intrigued. “experience it first-hand? you want me to act as your lab rat or something?”

“well, ya are pretty much the perfect lab rat.” and your mouth opens to retort, but he flashes you a half-smile, that shuts you right up. though, teetering closer to that signature smirk of his. “because ya hate my guts. we can test to see if dopamine can make ya hate me less.”

you blink at him, blankly.

you're gauging for any sign that he’s messing with you, but he doesn’t backpedal on his words. rather, he sits there, chin propped in the palm of his hands as he waits for you to respond. (but it’s hard to, not when your mind is drawn to the way your heart stutters at his insinuation. an unexpected, and unwelcome, reaction from you.) "so, what? you’re suggesting we kiss or something?”

“ya said it, not me.” karasu shrugs, finally straightening his posture out and getting up from his chair. “purely for research purposes, of course.”

there’s another beat of silence as you wait for him to crack— to tell you that he’s simply messing with you. then, the two of you could go back to doing this cursed project, potentially finish it in one go, and never have to meet up ever again. but he doesn’t, and the silence draws into something more uncomfortable the longer it goes on. 

“wait, are you... are you being serious right now?” you asked, your eyes widening as you look at him in disbelief. 

“science is science,” is all he offers to you.

you could feel your face heat up, the warmth crawling from the base of your neck and up, and  you’re sure your cheeks are sporting a bright shade of red.  it takes a few seconds for you to gather yourself, not willing to back down, but in the end, all you can muster is, “fine— for science.”

his grin widens at that, and before you could second-guess your choice, he’s planting his hands on the table and leaning in. 

yet, despite his rough approach, the kiss is soft— tentative, almost. his lips are barely brushing against yours, and you could still feel his shallow breaths as he refuses to make that last push to connect the two of you. he's simply hovering over you, almost urging you to make that decision, giving you that choice to back out of it if you wanted to.

all you can focus on is the rapid beat of your heart in your ears, the warmth emanating off of his lips that are so close, yet so far from yours. the logical, karasu-hating part of you is yelling at you to pull away, to get it together. but you don’t.

you close the distance between the two of you, locking your lips in a shallow, but sweet, kiss. full of nerves, from the way your lips freeze up against one another, not knowing where to go from there. the confidence he held washes away in that fraction of a second; his elbows buckle underneath him, caught off-guard by the feeling of your lips, pulling the two of you apart.

it’s brief, barely considered a kiss, but your reaction to him is undeniable. the way your heart pumps just a little harder, the tiny, electric sparks coursing through your veins, or the way you found yourself chasing after his lips as he pulled away.

the two of you stay silent, but you find that he's grinning at you— differently, this time. in a way you can't quite explain.

"hate me any less now?"

© rindreamery, 2025

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: The Rhetorical Triangle

Rhetorical Triangle - a simple, useful tool that can help you develop a strong and well thought-out essay, especially in persuasive writing and speeches.

Each side of the triangle represents one of the three classical rhetorical approaches used to build informative, persuasive arguments that influence audiences in specific, powerful ways.

There are many visual representations of the Rhetorical Triangle available online, such as the following:

The 3 Classical Appeals: Ethos, Pathos and Logos

Each of the three approaches attempts to prove arguments and persuade readers by emphasizing a specific type of appeal.

These appeals are not mutually exclusive, and you will often find elements of all three working together in effective writing.

Ethos: Appeals to Credibility and Authority

To use this appeal, you might emphasize experience or educational background, your own or those of your sources, as the reason the reader should believe you.

By citing credentials, the argument is being built on the word of experts.

Your reader expects to acknowledge the qualifications of the individuals or organizations presented as capable of supporting an argument with valid, factual, and credible information.

Pathos: Appeals to Emotions

Although this appeal is not as commonly used in academic writing as the other two, it does appear regularly in literary work.

Recognizing and using pathos appeals to personal values and emotions, which are some of the most powerful appeals.

Logos: Appeals to Logic and Reasoning

When you think about academic writing, you probably think of logic-based writing, which targets a reader’s intellect and often includes facts that build upon each other to support complex arguments.

Because this appeal relies on a reader being able to follow well-constructed arguments, it is critical this writing is clear, organized, and focused.

Extra information that does not directly support the logic of the arguments can distract and confuse a reader, and ultimately weaken an argument.

Identifying and Using Rhetorical Appeals

Now that you are familiar with each of the three rhetorical appeals, you can consider how you might use them in your writing, based on the specific rhetorical situation you are working with.

ETHOS

If your paper is discussing the effects of drinking and driving, you might include an interview with a veteran DPS Trooper who can discuss his fifteen years of experience working New Year’s Eve patrols. His professional credentials help your readers believe his observations and ideas are informed, relevant, and appropriate to the topic. By citing them, you are presenting your source’s DPS training, certifications, and experience as the reason your readers should accept your argument.

Incorporating topic information from reliable, well-informed sources strengthens your argument and makes it easier for your reader to accept.

Writers present their source’s credentials through in-text citations as well as through their Works Cited listings.

These citations provide your readers with the background and information they need to evaluate the quality and credibility of your sources.

PATHOS

If your goal is to get your reader to feel something, or to take a certain action, you may find this appeal highly effective.

Think about the popular TV commercials that raise money for abused animals. Those commercials are designed to make viewers feel sadness by showing images of pain and suffering. By the end, they switch to hopeful images and dialogue to inspire viewers to take a specific action and become supporters of their cause.

Pathos is often used in literature. Think about stories that seem to come alive in some way. Perhaps it is a character to whom readers can genuinely relate or stories that make readers feel happy, sad, or angry.

Writing that evokes emotion often uses Pathos. It is also commonly used in spoken word compositions like speeches, poetry, and theater.

When possible, including thoughtfully chosen images and music is another way you can use pathos through sensory details to connect with your audience’s emotions.

LOGOS

To create logical support in your work, you might include data, case studies, statistics, lab reports, and other similar information.

This is a popular appeal, and if you watch for it, you will find it used to support claims in everything from scientific reports to advertising, such as the familiar “Nine out of ten dentists recommend using an automatic toothbrush over regular brushing.”

COMBINING RHETORICAL APPEALS

As you start planning your essay, you may find that a combination of appeals works best.

Example: You might decide that case studies and lab reports will provide the best data to support your claims, focusing on only highly-qualified sources that are well known in your field.

By making these choices, you are employing the power of both Logos and Ethos into your essay, a combination that will result in a clear, organized, credible, and effective argument that conveys your message.

Source ⚜ Writing Notes & References

[kikitakite]

I saw your callout in the Gale tag for that one user (no comment on them, tho ty for the callout bc i'd seen them in the notes of my fics) and was curious if you could elaborate on some of the Mystra incidents you described towards the end of the post? I'm new to the lore of the setting and find it hard to research (which makes sense given its importance to dnd), so I've heard a lot of conflicting things about Mystra's portrayal in the wider series. No pressure, obviously!

No problem! And yea, I've seen her arguing in the posts of a few people I follow or just Gale-related posts I find interesting. Usually I don't get involved in stuff like this, but I noticed a constant pattern and then all the homophobic shit so I went off a little.

Unfortunately it's hard to find exact examples of the Mystra lore because certain modules aren't very popular or even free to access, but if you're interested the best way to learn about her is by reading the Elminster novels. There's twelve total, dating all the way back to 1994, and they detail Elminster's adventures. I'll be honest though, some of them are a hard read and written through the lens of a man who's admitted very creative, but also has a lot of problematic ideas.

In the first book Elminster is a child. His entire town gets wiped out by mages, thereby making him hostile toward magic. He sneaks into Mystra's temple to deface her statue one night, but she appears before him and basically gaslights him into learning magic and becoming her rare Chosen. He becomes a wizard and cleric basically overnight, until eventually he multiclasses into pretty much every class type in DnD. As you can imagine a lot of players aren't too fond of Elminster, as he's a well known self-insert of the author and pretty annoying to run into during campaigns. None of my dungeon masters like him anyway.

He also becomes one of Mystra's most loyal followers, but she fucks with him over and over, turning him into a woman to teach him a lesson and SLEEPING with him in that form, berating him when he struggles with the torture he endures when he gets stuck in the hells, making him reproduce without his knowledge and getting jealous when he gives his partners more attention. Because she's a very jealous goddess, which I think the game vaguely touches on but not really.

I wish I had the time to flip through all the novels and give exact citations but the best I can do is suggest them, because they're so eye opening. She's considered a neutral good goddess, but neutral gods often do terrible things for the sake of their domain. I think it needs to be noted that Mystra, as with all gods in the pantheon, only cares about her portfolio. She isn't wrong for that, but it doesn't mean she's blameless when she messes with people's lives. She's done a lot of good but she's also made horrible decisions, especially where her followers are concerned.

For example, Elminster having children he doesn't know about. He has a daughter named Narnra. Her conception was... pretty fucked up. Basically a song dragon named Ammaratha Cyndusk was an occasional lover of Elminster's (he has a lot of those because of course he does) and she wanted to bear his child, but since he's a Chosen of Mystra he can control his fertility. Magic birth control, basically. He didn't want a kid so Ammaratha went behind his back to learn a counterspell that would make him fertile during sex. The man she asked refused to teach her because...duh that's messed up, but then Mystra intervened and told him to teach her the spell because she wanted Elminster's "seed to spread". Ammaratha never told him and neither did Mystra. No matter what the reasons, that was NOT consensual on Elminster's part, and it happened two more times, resulting in two more daughters with different women. If I remember correctly Elminster did eventually find out waaaaay later when they were all adults, but it never amounted to anything.

The sisters I was taking about are the Seven Sisters, Mystra's "daughters". And I put "daughters" in quotations because Mystra possessed the body of a woman named Elué and impregnated her without her consent. She slept with the woman's husband (again, while possessing her body) and made them sire seven children. This of course lead to Elué's death because the constant flow of magic in her body was too much for her to handle. Her grieving husband broke after she died and eventually left, abandoning his daughters and earning Mystra's scorn...as if he was in the wrong. The sisters were then orphaned and raised by foster families.

That said, most of the awful things anyone can say about Mystra were the doings of her previous incarnations so ultimately it doesn't apply to the Mystra of BG3. In fact, this third Mystra is supposed to be a new and improved goddess who's nicer to her followers. So her portrayal in BG3 annoyed a lot of DnD fans. I should also point out that Mystra has two types of fans: ones who will defend everything she does, even when it's fucked up beyond all comprehension, and the ones who will tell you she's a true neutral goddess capable of good and bad. I'm the latter. There are plenty examples of Mystra sticking her neck out for innocents, but there's also examples of her doing the most horrendous shit imaginable.

A lot of veteran players, at least the ones I know, are upset with the portrayal of Mystra in BG3 because her plan to end the Absolute is, quite frankly, stupid. Your party is the best chance anyone has of ending the threat, but she asks Gale to nuke himself and possibly tens of thousands, which makes no sense because she could've just sent her mages/clerics to deal with the problem. And there was no guarantee the bomb would've worked anyway. She put all the responsibility on one man and it DEFINITELY comes off as vindictive. That isn't out if character for her but she's not SUPPOSED to be that bad anymore. For a lot of DnD players it felt like she was reverting back to her old habits.

I think there's also a part in the game where you can directly ask Gale why she doesn't just blip the Absolute out of existence and he says something like, "She could but Ao won't allow it." That was also really strange for a lot of veteran players to hear because Gale drops Ao's name like it's nothing. Most people (especially if they're new to the franchise) wouldn't know this but most people in Faerûn don't know who Ao is! Because he wiped people's memories of his existence! I suppose it does make sense for Gale to know that name, since Mystra probably explained the pantheon to him, but it's VERY unlikely tav would know it. So during that conversation all I could picture was tav tilting their head like, "Huh? Who? Whaaa?"

And on top of that......Ao absolutely WOULD allow it because the Absolute effects the Weave and every other god! It had the potential to ruin the balance of the universe, which makes Ao a very angry boy. Balance is one of the ONLY things he cares about. The Dead Three were stealing souls and worshippers, which gods needs to survive, and dying gods disrupts the balance. It's a whole circle of chaos. So the only conclusion left for me to extrapolate is this: Mystra just really, really wanted Gale to kill himself to prove his devotion to her. Which...isn't great. Bad look for her.

It's kind of like how Raphael thinks the Crown of Karsus is going to help him end the Blood War and take over the hells. DnD players laughed during his epilogue because...no it won't lol. He doesn't stand a chance even with the crown. He's arrogant and he's gonna get slapped by his daddy and all the other archdevils, the same way Gale gets slapped by Mystra if he ascends. Even the Absolute ending of the game wouldn't last long because the gods would go to war with the Dead Three, wipe them out and rebuild Faerûn, which has happened many times in past DnD campaigns. Mystra alone has torn worlds apart and glued them back together. The main crisis of BG3 is saving the world you live in or everybody dies. For the gods it's just a Tuesday. I mean look at how Withers owns the Dead Three with a wave of his hand at the end of the game. Mystra COULD'VE killed the Absolute, just as she could've removed the orb from Gale's chest the moment it happened. She just didn't WANT to. She wanted him to die. She wanted him to chastise himself. She wanted him to suffer and come crawling back to her as an obedient follower. She wanted him to learn a harsh and honestly unfair lesson, which is a terrible throwback to her previous incarnations.

[neovillains]

FINDING EQUILIBRIUM · GOJO SATORU

( EPISODE 4 : PURRFECT TIMING ) things have seemed to be going smoothly. gojo manages to reconcile with his friends, even introducing you to them. however, just as things seem to get better, things turn downhill once again. | watch time: 3.2k words.

── chat noir!gojo satoru & student!reader, angst & fluff, friendship reconciliation, confessions & heart ache, featuring geto suguru & shoko ieiri, etc.

note. y'all not ready for the end of season one tbh.

Just as told, Professor Mei Mei had assigned the class a project. It seemed to be easy enough— create a presentation revolving around the different cultural practices that might interfere with different businesses around the world. The professor uploaded the class’s partners online through a QR code, but Gojo was already on his way towards you when the professor instructed all the students to meet with each other before the class ended. Your typical class partner stood up, groaning that she had to leave you while Gojo took her spot. Sliding into the chair, he has a happy smile on his face when he lets out a dragged out groan. “Oh, how I’m happy that you’re my partner.”

“Why?” you chuckle. “So you can throw me all the work?”

Gojo scoffs, pulling out his laptop from his bag and plopping it down with a metallic thud. “Why do you keep making up these lies? I’m not going to leave you hanging.”

For the rest of the twenty minutes in class, you had set up the powerpoint while Gojo researched journal articles to use for the assignment. Simultaneously, the two of you chatted about everything but the project, finding humor in anything and everything as by the end of the class period. By the time the two of you were walking out of class when she dismissed everyone, Professor Mei Mei had her eyes on the both of you. “I hope the two of you actually got some work done with all that talking.”

And in unison, you and Gojo both responded, “We did!”

The two of you both agreed on times that you could meet up and do the assignment. On a handful of days, it was either in your apartment or his. But on various occasions, the two of you decided to meet in the library or at a cafe on campus. There were a handful of times where Gojo had texted you that he was going to be late, but he always assured you that he would be there and that you would not have to do his part. He upheld himself on that promise, always rushing in late and plopping his stuff down. He’d be a panting thing, always looking like a mess, and thus leading you to never question his whereabouts. 

Plus, you were impressed by his work and ideas, not having to reformat and reword things like you would typically need to when you worked on partnered assignments. Gojo constantly reassured that you were in good hands for this assignment and that he wouldn’t let you down, and he held true to that word. 

Today, the two of you were doing the finishing touches on the assignment. You were fixing things up style-wise, centering the titles and assigning designated fonts for everything. You made sure that everything was appeasing to the eye, while he worried about correct citations and fixed up any misspellings and grammar. The two of you were perched at a table in the library, iced coffees sitting on each other’s rights. You reach for your cup, taking a sip of your vanilla iced coffee and typing with your next hand. Gojo was hunched over, squinting at the screen as his mouth opened up a mere centimeter. 

“I think…” he breathes. “I am… done!”

He shuts the screen, the assignment autosaving as he throws himself back in the seat. He stretches his arms, hearing the cracks in his muscles as he stretches. With a huge yawn, he squeezes his eyes shut while you’re still at it. Watching you silently, he chuckles with a shake of his head. “You’re doing too much work.”

“No, I’m not,” you simply retort. “I’m just making sure that everything is presentable.”

“I’m pretty sure it already is,” he sighs. You shake your head, eyes starting to burn but you refuse to wipe them. “No, I still have to do the transitions and animations for the text and pictures.”

“There you go,” he chuckles. “Proving my point.”

“Didn’t you say you were glad to work with such a scholar like me?”

“Yeah,” Gojo says. “But I’m starting to regret it.”

With a sarcastic laugh, you finally shut your laptop screen. “I’ll finish the rest of it later. I’m pooped out.”

The two of you are about to leave, agreeing to go out and get lunch together before heading your separate ways. Walking together out the door, you can’t help but think about how the more you spend time with Gojo, the more your heart flutters. You enjoy getting to know the man, his interests and what he doesn’t like. He’s very easy to talk to, which you aren’t always used to, having to take some time to open up. Today, he wore a sweater that was twice his size and a pair of charcoal gray sweatpants and it was so simple, yet it sparked up a heat inside of you that made you feel embarrassed. 

You feel so abashed, wondering if it’s normal to be experiencing such high school level emotions as someone in their early twenties. Your breathing grows heavy as he draws closer to you, nudging your shoulder as he teases you about something. The both of you had agreed on getting Chinese down in the food court, about the head down when he all of a sudden stopped. He spots two familiar faces. His heart pangs when he sees Geto and Shoko sitting at a table on the other side of the library. His step falters as you walk ahead. When you look back, he says, “Wait up for me? I wanna speak to a few… friends of mine.”

You follow his gaze, ultimately nodding as you walk ahead. “I’ll meet you in the courtyard.”

Gojo doesn’t get it. As Chat Noir, it’s so easy to confront his enemies. To put on a brave face and go against them in a battle of two-on-one. Is it the extra hand that makes it easier? Is it the fact that he’s not alone? He fiddles with his fingers, picking at the dirt inside of his fingernails before inhaling deeply. 

One foot in front of the other, he walks over to their table, his shadow alerting them of his presence. They sit rigid in their seats, looking up at the taller individual as no one says anything for a while. Shoko has to be the one to break the stifling silence between the three of them as Geto turns his gaze away from Gojo. “Do you need something?”

“Can I sit right here for a quick minute?” Shoko looks over at Geto, but Geto’s gaze is still on his laptop, typing away furiously in order to keep his attention off of Gojo. Shoko lets out a sigh, having told Geto that he needed to speak to Gojo in order to get things resolved. However, the boy seemed to be more stubborn than an ass. She motions to the chair, giving Gojo the go ahead with a slight eye roll. “Go ahead.”

When Gojo grabs the chair, he spins it around, leaning against the back of it. His breath trembles as he averts his gaze down to the table instead of directly at them. “I want to apologize—”

Geto scoffs, cutting off Gojo before he can continue. Gojo inwardly curses his best friend for not making this any easier on him, but an apology isn’t supposed to be that— easy. With a deep inhale, Gojo continues, finally looking up to see that both of their eyes are on him. Geto gestures for him to continue with the roll of his hand. “Go on.”

“I want to apologize for the last time we saw each other,” Gojo fiddled with his fingers underneath the table, cracking each and every knuckle until he couldn’t crack anymore. “I—” He had practiced this in his head a thousand times, rehearsing as he knew exactly what to say. He had made plenty of plans and wasted initiatives to meet with them when he could, but always bailed at the very last moment. Now, everything that he mentally prepared himself was gone and out the window of his mind. “—I was lying… I do have something to hide.”

“Oh?” Geto didn’t expect this much from him. An apology, yes, but was he really going to reveal the very thing he was suspecting him to be? Gojo nods, losing some tension in his shoulders. 

“I can’t tell you what though,” Gojo grows more confident, looking the two of them in the eye. “I just… can’t. And I really wish I could. The moment I found out, I wanted to, but—” If he continued on elaborating, Gojo knew they could possibly guess what or badger him to know in more further detail, so he restrained himself. “—I just can’t tell you guys what.”

Finally, he raises his hands to the table, his entire body relaxing. “I’m sorry for constantly ditching you both. I’ll try to be a better friend from now on.”

Shoko looked happy, seemingly approving of his apology. However, Geto was the one he worried for the most. He knew how well his friend could hold a grudge. Both Gojo and Shoko stared at the long-haired man, waiting for his approval. With a deep sigh, Geto dropped his shoulders. “That’s all you could have said from the jump. We would’ve understood.”

“I know,” Gojo elongates his groan. “But I panicked and instead, made everything worse.”

“That you did,” Shoko agrees with a point. 

“Can I treat you guys for dinner as an apology?” Gojo beams, a smile gracing his features. 

“What?” Geto quips. “No lunch?”

“Nah,” Gojo says, standing up. “I actually have to go meet someone for lunch.”

Geto and Shoko give each other a curious glance before raising their eyebrow at Gojo. They saw the person he was with earlier, both questioning to themselves who that possibly could have been. Shoko asks, “Is it that girl you were studying with?”

His eyes widened, not knowing that they had seen them together. He nods. “Yeah, we were working on an assignment together.”

“Mm,” Shoko hums. With the look on his face, Shoko can tell that there’s possibly more than them just simply sharing a class together. Geto and her have both seen the two of them walking alongside each other a couple of times. The way they talked— the way they looked at each other seemed to be something more to it. “Well, I wouldn't want to keep her waiting much longer.”

“Yeah,” Gojo agreed, looking over at Geto. Relief flooded him seeing that his best friends were finally talking to him, and happy with himself for finally doing the hard part. “I’ll see you guys later?”

“Yeah,” Geto agreed, before giving him a pointed look. “That’s if you’re available.”

“I’ll let you both know what’s up,” he grins from ear-to-ear. 

Equilibrium— Gojo remembers learning that word in high school. It’s when two opposing forces or influences are balanced. It was universal amongst the majority of topics and discussions that the word can be applied. However, in that class, he was working on different chemical reactions and how he could bring them to an equal state. He liked the word— different from equivalent or equilateral. The word just had a nice sound to it. But now, he felt like he could apply it to his regular life and how it fit to the occasion. He was trying to find a balance between college, his social life, and being a hero. Never seeming to be able to find enough time to juggle all three. 

However, now, he feels like he’s one step closer. Catching up to you in the courtyard, he jogs in your direction. Hands open like a cat ready to pounce, his palms capture your shoulder as he shouts, “Boo!”

You jump with a high-pitched squeal, turning to see the devil-eyed culprit. You groan, eyebrows frowning as you slapped at his chest. “You asshole!”

“Yeah, yeah, you love me,” Gojo laughs, throwing a hand over your shoulder. He walks at your height, hunched over as his feet clunk on the floor. A shiver runs down your spine at the heat of his body against yours. Your body tenses up and you’re hoping he doesn’t notice. 

“I really don’t,” you grumble, despite the heat rising to your face. 

“Ready for lunch?” His face turned towards you, so close. 

“Mhm,” you nod. “You’re paying.”

You maneuver yourself from his hold, going ahead of him. He chuckles, standing tall as he strolls after you. You didn’t need to run. He was going to pay either way. 

Yeah, Gojo nods. He’s finding equilibrium.

—

At some point, you and Gojo become a regular thing. He doesn’t ask what you’re doing and if you have the time for something, he just messages you that he’d like to do something and tell you to join him, and you’d just agree. Or, he’d ambush you on your way out of classes to seek out your comfort in the library or the campus cafe right next to it. He becomes such a natural occurrence in your life that you don’t even question it, not that you ever did. 

Tonight, he’s invited you out with his friends. The ones you saw in the library— Shoko and Geto, if you’re remembering them correctly. You feel so tense in their presence, watching how fluidly they interact with each other. Shoko’s sitting to your left, elbows on the table as she leans over, silently listening to the two goofballs. She’s glancing at you occasionally, wondering if you’re usually this quiet. You don’t seem that way when you’re with Gojo.

“You alright?” She directs her attention to you. “Or, are you tired of us already?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I’m good.”

“So,” Shoko begins. “You’re a business major, too, huh? You’re not as obnoxious as the rest of them are. How do you deal with it?”

You snort at her comment, eyes lighting up as you shift towards her. “I disassociate and shut them out from the rest of the world.”

“That’s what you must be doing with Satoru, then. Ignoring his annoying ass.”

“Oh, definitely,” you giggle. Gojo squints his eyes, looking from Shoko to you. He’s enjoying the fact that you’re getting along with her, watching how you’ve come to relax in her presence. You start to laugh before glancing over at him and immediately reverting your attention back to Shoko. Something itches inside of him to interject, no longer listening to Geto when he blurts, “Are you guys talking about me?”

And boldly you say, “Yes, and it’s all about how horrible of a friend you are.”

Gojo pouts, taking your statement seriously as he turns his attention to Shoko. “I thought we got past that. Haven’t you guys forgiven me?”

“Oh my gosh,” Shoko gasps. “She was joking, ‘Toru. Can’t you take those anymore?”

“Oh,” he juts his bottom lip out. The two girls give each other a look before laughing together. The rest of the night goes smoothly, integrating each other’s separate conversations into one. The four of you are loud in the small restaurant, having to be told on multiple occasions to silent down. When the sky gets too dark, you and Gojo say your farewells to Shoko and Geto. 

“It was nice meeting you guys in person,” you wave. “I’ve only heard your names when he was talking about you. It’s good to put names on the faces.”

“It was nice meeting you, too,” Geto smiles. “It’s good to see ‘Toru talk to someone outside of us.”

Gojo grimaces, groaning at Geto’s statement. “Yeah, whatever. We have classes tomorrow.

“That’s a fucking lie,” Geto snorts, but dismissing the two of you. “Whatever. Good night.”

You don’t remember the last time you’ve ever confessed to someone. In junior high, you believed? But each occasion that you’ve had a crush, you were always the one to cave into your emotions and confess. It’s the same way you're feeling right now, feeling the way your emotions are starting to bubble on your chest, slowly starting to kill you. 

Right now, Gojo’s right next to you as you’re unlocking the door to your apartment, making sure that you get inside safely. You’re fumbling with your keys, but the urge to confess is starting to ruminate and boil over. You’ve gone through your keys for the fourth time before you just finally give up and spin around. “Gojo, can I ask you something?”

It comes out so abrupt that it catches him off guard, making him straighten his posture as he nods. “Yeah, you can ask me anything.”

“I—” Maybe you were getting way too ahead of yourself, reacting immediately to your impulses. “I…”

You take a deep breath, controlling your racing heart. “I don’t know if I’m getting way too ahead of myself, but… I don’t know. I could be reading all the signs wrong and I’ll feel like a complete idiot, and then I’ll feel like a complete idiot, but—”

Gojo’s eyes widen, taking in what you’re saying— through all your rambling and nonsensical words— he can deduce exactly what you’re trying to say. He should be elated because deep down, his heart was begging for the exact same thing. However, fear begins to seep in his heart in regards to your safety. Gojo could give you the love that you needed, but Chat Noir can’t. His two identities would only hold you back, and he wouldn’t be able to give you what you need. 

“—Would you like to go out sometime? As a date.”

You’re waiting so expectantly, pretty eyes that look up with him— a fine mixture of anticipation and nerves. You’ve got a horrible habit of biting your nails, chewing on them and feeling the crunch as you peel at them with your teeth. Your heart starts pounding, beating against your chest in strong attempts to escape. It’s too long of a wait and by the time he calls out your name, it’s a low whisper. His eyes drop and there’s something in his eyes that immediately makes you assume, no. “I— I’m sorry, but…”

Gosh, you cry. I feel so stupid. You shake your head, quick to dismiss it as he calls out name again, telling you to wait. However, you choose to ignore it. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you grab your keys, going to unlock the door. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

With that, you shut the door on Gojo. Tears streaming down your face in utter embarrassment as you curse yourself. But, you could only put the blame back on you. That’s what you get for being too hasty, you chastise yourself. You wipe away the tears as you blindly lead yourself to your bedroom, dropping your bag by the door and diving straight on the bed. 

Outside, Gojo still stands by the door. Cursing at himself for hurting you, he runs a hand through his hair, pulling at the knots. Just like that, that band of equilibrium breaks in two. Two unequal pieces as both solutions start bubbling over. I'm an idiot. I'm an idiot. I'm an idiot. It's all that Gojo can repeat to himself. In the little opening of his bag, Plagg looks up at Gojo with his bright blue eyes. “Why’d you say no? Don’t you like her?”

“I do, I just—” Gojo sighs, giving up. “Just forget it. It’s just one other thing that I was bound to ruin.”