#cannot understate how desperate this man is.

[lauravbleediotiewrites]

Im just going throw this idea I've been thinking about for a hot minute.

So this is Janitor Ford.

After Fords his science fair project breaks, he still tries anything to attend the school, so he fills out a few job applications for the school, thinking he could get his foot in the door that way. Fortunately for him, he gets a response back from the janitorial department telling him he got the job. He doesn't tell his parents this, only that he got accepted into the school after all. He moves out to California and starts his new life as a janitor.

As for the job aspect he hates it, pay is not good, people treat you like garbage, the one good thing is he has some down time and he uses it but studying and doing self taught experiments in the lab after hours. Basically, he holds on just for the chance to show the admissions borad what he has to offer (the board hates him for this) so he can get his fancy degree. In his mind, it's WCT or nothing.

Over the years, Ford has become more and more desperate, and one day, he found a book while cleaning up the library, inside of it has instructions on how to summon a creature with immense knowledge. Ford thinks that this creature and its portal will help him impress admissions. He's fine everything's fine!

[lurkingshan]

What are your favorite examples of deep unbridled yearning in a bl? I think my is I told the sunset about you the way they used the coconut smell to showcase one the leads feelings for the other was so unique and sensual. He starts out hating coconut and how it smells but slowly as he falls in love he becomes obsessed with it since it's the other MLs unique scent and he uses it on everything, so we get a scene of him inhaling a paper written by the MLs coconut pen and then another one just devouring a coconut like it's the best thing in earth. I don't think I have ever seen such a depiction of attraction/love/lust that's so different but also visceral and beautiful and it really stuck with me. It's very different but it's one of the rare romance things that I'll never forget akin to the hand flex from pride and prejudice.

So you want to talk about yearning.

*Lan Wangji has entered the chat*

There’s a lot of good yearning in the romance genre, and plenty of bls feature it. The example you gave from ITSAY is definitely one of the standouts in terms of how visceral it felt. I will never forget Teh shoving his whole face into that coconut, or all the super charged scenes where he and Oh-aew stare at and touch each other and keep testing boundaries until they break.

There are definitely other expressions of yearning that stick out for me for one reason or another, and not all in this same tone.

The Untamed

Let’s get this out of the way upfront, because no one can step to this man on yearning. He adopted a whole child and named him after his yearning for his lost love. What I love about the presentation of Lan Wangji's particular flavor of yearning is how steady and matter of fact it is. He is always yearning for Wei Wuxian and it's just a part of who he is, whether his love is alive or dead. And while I love that Teh is such a big mess of emotions, I also like this more understated flavor of yearning where nothing is ever said out loud but Lan Wangji's feelings are clear in how he chooses to live his life. He's the poster boy for "actions speak louder than words."

Eternal Yesterday

I'm not sure if you've seen this one, but it's one of the most poignant and devastating depictions of yearning I have ever seen. Mitsuru yearned for Koichi so hard that he kept his body alive for precious extra days and his memory alive forever. Brb gonna go cry.

Utsukushii Kare 2

This is probably one of the more unique expressions of the emotion (on brand for this series), since this sequel season has Kiyoi yearning for the man who is already his boyfriend to love him for real instead of idolizing and holding him from a distance. It's one of my favorite explorations of how lonely we can feel even while in a relationship.

I Cannot Reach You

This show wins for best visual effects to convey yearning, with a beautiful bokeh effect taking over the screen in moments when the characters were extra in their feelings over each other.

Unknown

Wei Yuan's yearning was more of the desperate and hopeless variety, especially in his teens years when he knew his feelings for his adoptive older brother were impossible. I liked that his feelings were expressed via caretaking; he didn't think he could have the relationship he really wanted with Wei Qian, so he made it his mission to take care of him and help shoulder his burdens instead.

I Feel You Linger in the Air

This story stands out in my memory for its dedication to anticipatory yearning. That is, knowing a separation is coming against your will and yearning desperately for the person who is still in front of you. Yai and Jom did not want to let each other go despite knowing they could not stay together, and that yearning was so strong it ultimately connected them through time.

Theory of Love

And on the comedic end of the spectrum, I absolutely cannot end this list without giving a shoutout to one of the funniest manifestations of yearning that has ever graced my screen. Every time his feelings for Khai got overwhelming, Third ran to the bathroom for a Sadness Shower, and if the water wasn't working he was happy to improvise (and now I am cackling).

[sotwk]

Hello, you wonderful, thoughtful, sneaky busybody! I’ve read the letter that you snuck into my room—in fact I may have read and reread it until my eyes went crossed. I can hardly believe you took such risks for me, spying on Lord Eomer and taking his private writing—but I’m certainly glad you did.

Grateful as I am, I have another favor to ask of you—though I know you’ll accept gladly, given your love for meddling in other people’s business. I have a letter for Lord Eomer—oh, Bema help me, I knew you’d be insufferably smug about it. Yes, you were right—you’ve been right all along! Are you happy now? 

I know what you’ll ask next, and yes. If you must, you can take a peek—I suppose I owe you that much, since you were the one who brought me his letter in the first place. Just make sure he gets this, won’t you? I won’t be able to rest until he does.

.

.

.

Lord Eomer,

Last night, my friend gave me a curious gift: a letter, crumpled, torn, and painstakingly pieced back together. A letter written and nearly destroyed by your own hand. I do hope you can forgive her actions—for my part, I have never been more grateful for her meddling.

I was determined Forgive my penmanship. My hands have not stopped shaking since I read your words.

I was determined to speak to you at once. I’d decided to sneak to the Golden Hall and throw pebbles at your window until you awoke. Would you believe that I’d donned my cloak and had a foot out the door, with no thought that midnight had long since passed, when my mother caught me and herded me to bed like an errant foal? Trapped in my room as I was, I resolved to write to you instead.

I slept not at all. 

For months, I have endured the attention of the suitors my parents paraded before me. Foolish man, had you made known even a word of that letter to me, I would have sent them all away without a second thought!

I am—I was resigned to do my duty to my family. But you cannot think I wanted to marry one of those men! If ever I smiled at them, I was thinking of you. If ever I looked attentively at them, I was studying their faces seeking some trace of you. 

I underst  Bema, my quill grows unsteady again. You cannot know what your words have done to me.

I understand your reservations, truly. But I am of a mind with your cousin, that our duties need not rule us entirely. Nor must they be the enemy of our hearts.

Do you recall the midsummer feast last year, when you asked me to dance? We spoke afterwards in the garden below the north balcony. I don’t recall a word of our conversation, for you had kissed the back of my hand when our dance was done and I could think of nothing else. You must have known how your touch would haunt me, how I would drive myself mad with thoughts of how your lips might — 

Bema, I am not myself this morning! But there, you see? I do not cross out words in regret, not when I mean them. 

I will be waiting in that garden tonight, at sundown. If you have the courage to stand by the words you tried so desperately to destroy—if, Bema help me, you are as seized by your passions as you claim—you will meet me there. I make no demands of you. Only that you speak the truth to me, without reservation, as I am doing now. 

Enough of prudence, enough of patience! What good have those miserable words ever done us?

I don't know if you will receive this letter in time (don't know how legible it will be, I have never scrawled so fast in my life), but even with the hour being late, I HAD to write and reassure you that:

I survived reading it, though it got hairy there for a second, my poor heart was not ready.

I delivered the letter.

I did more spy-work and lingered in the halls all morning until I was sure Eomer had returned to his rooms and found it.

I got caught. No, no, not by him, thank Bema. By the other one.

No worries, I handled it. He went all high and mighty, telling me I "should not meddle so much", but he didn't rat me out right there. He went into Eomer's room and chatted with him for a good while. Alas, door was too thick for me to hear a peep. Why are these doors so damn heavy.

I managed to corner him later on, but he wouldn't confirm anything other than that Eomer read your words. I then rushed off to get this note to you, but I'm gonna run back to talk Theodred's ear off until he spills everything. I don't care if he is the Prince. I know for a fact that he meddles as much as I do if not more, that sweet hypocrite.

Please just show up in the garden as you said you would and this would all be worth it I'm sure. I'll meet you on the other side, girl! GO GO GO!!!

Tagging parties who are probably interested in this crazy drama: @from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras @morethantheycansay @emmanuellececchi @celeluwhenfics

For the other confused readers:

The "Anon" who wrote the gorgeous letter in response to my own "Letter from Eomer" is actually the incredibly talented @scyllas-revenge. It started as a letter writing Ask Game, and is now blowing up into a co-written Eomer x unnamed OC fic.

I've posted my work of Eomer's letter as a ficlet on Ao3 called "A Salvaged Letter", but now I'm probably expanding that into a SMALL multi-part fic. We'll see. Now that I've pulled my beloved Theodred into it, it's hard to resist the urge to write more.

Oh, and the busybody gossipy friend will definitely be an OC self-insert of yours truly. Shamelessly, I'm doing that.

[skaruresonic]

... I never realized before how similar in headbashing stupidity "an immunitary disease is kept in remission by low gravity" and "Super Silver can rip away a virus that mutated people on a cellular level" are as cures for illnesses.

At least I know that the Metal Virus crap was because Flynn made it too OP and so he had to find a solution to the problem he created no matter what. Again, I reiterate that we did not need to know the nitty gritty of Maria's illness beyond "she was terminally ill and that's why Gerald was desperate to find a cure". It's not about "muh super saiyan hedgehog franchise", it's that a much more elegant solution 1) exists, and 2) did not need to be told (and 3) it directly goes against what shown in the games)

I'm still not convinced the low gravity thing wasn't all Flynn's doing, because

A.) Maekawa seemed to not be privy to it; he simply said if ST changed the original vision, that's their prerogative. A statement which doesn't really prove anything on its own. If he knew anything, he would have provided a less nonchalant answer,

and B.) it's the exact brand of nitpicky inanity Flynn employed in the comic. Characters spent aaaaaages agonizing over why they couldn't solve the metal virus through the usual channels, only for "tear the virus off like it's a second skin because the plot demands it" to be the solution.

Like, Eggman spent paragraphs explaining how the virus changes you at the cellular level. So what, pray tell, did Silver exactly do?

It's an asspull. Something that sounds good on the surface for all of two seconds before you apply a modicum of thought to it. And then you get told to shut up because you're thinking too hard.

Nah, man. I shouldn't have to do the writer's job because he's not thinking hard enough.

---

Again, I reiterate that we did not need to know the nitty gritty of Maria's illness beyond "she was terminally ill and that's why Gerald was desperate to find a cure". It's not about "muh super saiyan hedgehog franchise", it's that a much more elegant solution 1) exists, and 2) did not need to be told (and 3) it directly goes against what shown in the games)

"It doesn't have to be realistic, relax" is a weird hill to die on when SA2 is one of the few games that are grounded in reality, inasmuch a Sonic game can be grounded in reality. I could see that argument for, like, Mania, but SA2? Especially given the fact that Maria's illness is the reason Gerald created life, with all the existential implications attached? You're gonna treat it as the same tier as "What do rings do?"

I know I always harp on the "weapons of mass destruction" thing, but it can't be understated just how weirdly topical such a thing is for a game released in June 2001. You can apply this to other elements as well, such as the commercial bent and the focus on government conspiracies. It all converges to create an unreplicable atmosphere that is uniquely early aughts.

Y2K was a weird time for everyone; the world feared the end at the stroke of midnight on January 1st, and didn't quite understand how technology would play a part in shaping the future. In fact, Maekawa managed to convince ST to set their next adventure in space in order to celebrate the new millennium. SA2 is a time capsule of those cultural hopes and anxieties.

You cannot ignore that part when analyzing the game. You cannot ignore how art reflects reality in this case. Tails saying he caught the news of Sonic's arrest on "satellite TV" would be the modern equivalent of saying he caught it while watching YouTube. The words "weapon of mass destruction" leaving Shadow's mouth would be like if Infinite mentioned drone strikes in Forces.

Although subsequent games do allude to real-life every now and again, like ShTH and its one-off mentions of Japan and France - they're just that, tidbits. None are as deeply contemporaneous to their time as SA2. None have it as baked into their grain in the same manner as SA2.

...To say nothing of the usual "just because the games take place in a setting with supersonic hedgehogs doesn't render them unworthy of critical examination." Should go without saying.

also what the fuck, people are calling it "space AIDS." maybe choose a bigger fish to fry

[presdestigatto]

Hey how long have you been following f1? I started following in 2023 and I honestly got so shocked about lewis coming to ferrari. I didn't even thought this would be a real possibility.

It made me pretty upset in general, because I kind of feel charles was cheated lmao. He is there working hard to make them succeed and now they just bring Lewis out of nowhere, paying huge amounts of money to him and making him the ambassador of ferrari.

And like I saw in some of your posts now everyone is already giving lewis the credit for all the changes. I even saw someone on twitter say that maybe they brought Vasseur already thinking on bringing Lewis, since they also worked together in the past. Like Oh of course who cares about chuck. In their minds its like these.

So even if ferrari gets better in the next years everything will be attributed to him.

This is why I kind of hope he doesn't win the wdc. Honestly, maybe its because i'm new in f1 but I don't understand the hype about him getting the 8?? Like he already have 7!!! Thats a lot. I would much rather see the young generarion getting titles. I know he wants to break Schumacher records, but it doesnt seem like such an important think to me? Feels more like an ego trip. And even if you break the record, its not like Schumacher its going to be less than an icon. Senna, Proust, Lauda nobody cares if they have less championships, they are icons. And who knows, a few years later another driver might break this record, so then what? (Kind of hope for max to be the one breaking just for the funsies, since he doesn't seem to care that much about status)

So yeah I think i'm a bit angry with this lol. Like Lewis got his time in dominant mercedes winning titles with Bottas as second driver. Max is having this right now with Checo as second. I wish charles could have this, not have another first driver fighting for priority in the team. And who knows if they're going to develop the car more to his liking than charles. Since they're giving him such a fortune

anon you come into my inbox with such bold and controversial words you are going to get me cancelled /j

i started following f1 in 2023 as well actually!! i was similarly shocked, but i’m chronically online and have family members who were in this longer than me so hopefully im caught up enough to respond to this properly. i don’t quite agree with the parts on Lewis and i’ll explain more below the cut

first, honestly i think its very fair to be upset for charles. in terms of public perception, the move does not currently reflect well on him and i’ve seen incredible amounts of slander, though that’s also on me for not blocking and muting enough, lol. the timing, after we all assumed the first driver war was over with the 4lyfe contract extension could actually not be worse and i believe that’s a big reason for the dismayed response. there are like ten thousand opinions on whether this is good or bad, im more inclined towards it being beneficial eventually because i believe charles can beat a 40yo lewis. i doubt i can add something that hasn’t already been said by countless others haha, this piece here is especially good. ultimately, the team dynamics of a ferrari 1644 pairing will be decided with their on track performance, so it comes down to having faith in Charles’ ability.

now onto Lewis, i’m actually quite invested in him getting his eighth, which is why i, personally, wanted to cry when i first heard the news. as for why fans want that eighth title for him so desperately- uhm. AD21.

additionally, we’ve talked a lot about the ferrari mythos, but Lewis’ personal brand also cannot be understated. for many, many people, Lewis himself is a dream. a black man from a working class background who uses his platform and prestige to advance inclusivity, having his name etched in history as the most successful f1 driver of all time is to me the best thing to ever come out of this racing series. i know its irritating to see Charles be dismissed like his past 5 years at ferrari is nothing, but that’s a fan response, likely not what’s happening behind the scenes, and it’s honestly very difficult to begrudge fans of a driver for wanting their driver to win more titles.

tbh, the hype toward Lewis’ move is in large part because of how successful his sudden jump to mercedes in 2013 was. there’s a belief that he can spot a competitive package before it presents itself, and i believe in it too. this also is a good thing for Charles. i think recency bias with regards to his bad luck and the frankly bizarre media favouritism shown to Carlos has made most people who don’t follow Charles like we do underestimate him.

lastly, no comments for the redbull situation and Max lol, but historically it isn’t true that a championship winning team needs to have a strong first driver and weaker second. one example would be Seb and Mark Webber in redbull. Mark Webber gets overshadowed a lot because of the 2010-2013 Seb dominance but he was a strong driver who helped redbull dominate those years. the other examples are actually all Lewis pairings, i think it’s recency bias again driving this narrative that Lewis had an easy time with his teammates. Lewis’ teammates have been like, incredibly stacked? let’s not engage in Nico Rosberg erasure even though he’s currently pretending like he has absolutely no stake in what’s probably the biggest move in Lewis’ career. there’s this post going around about how 1644 isn’t even a top3 Lewis pairing and unfortunately until Charlie wins that championship with ferrari i am objectively unable to disagree. before Lewis got Valterri as a teammate he was partnered with Alonso, Jenson Button and Nico R. he pretty much had incredible teammates for his first decade in f1. and we all know he rates Charles highly, so all respect to him for deciding to throw himself into a new challenge w ferrari.

i think actually the fact that pundits and reporters are suggesting this could be a all time great pairing is a sign of how highly Charles is rated even though he’s not a world champion yet.

at the end of this Lewis and Charles would have shared the rare experience of having multiple, multiple wdcs as teammates and that’s incredible. let’s not forget that Lewis named Charles as the young driver he sees the most of himself in. honestly, if i had to pick a world champ for Charles’ career to resemble, i’d rather it be Lewis who has come out on top of so many strong teammates than Max.

[basket-of-cats-and-witches]

They say that death by drowning is painful. That it is the worst way to go.

You can't help but think of how much they understated it.

It is a struggle to survive. A violent, ship-killing storm has already devoured your vessel, claiming it to the watery depths.

Saltwater stings your eyes, and you gasp, choking on the waves that slam into you. You can feel blood vessels popping in your eyes. Your ears crackle, and there's a tingling in your skin as you struggle for your last breaths.

It is a fight you cannot win.

Yet still, you do not submit.

It goes on for far too long, this endless cycle. You cough and gasp and spit up just enough to make it for just a little bit longer before sinking below the waves.

Just as you're about to give up, time and time again, you gain a burst of energy and force yourself upwards.

"Give up". The voice is soft. It booms in your bones like thunder that is far too close. "Please. You only prolong your suffering."

You fight it. Not yet. You're not ready.

In the moments that death caresses you, live blooms violent and desperate, flooding your mind and body with ferocity.

"Please. If I don't take you, they will. And it will not be so kind."

The voice is whalesong. It is the crash of waves on a crisp winter night, the whisper of sand pulling away from the shore.

It is a thousand things humans were never meant to hear, sounds meant only for the deep of the ocean, for the jellyfish and deep ocean creatures to feel in their flesh.

You can see something coming. For a second your heart, still pounding, leaps into your throat. You are terrified. You are overjoyed.

That hope dies like a flame in the rain.

What cuts through the waves is enormous. It searches for you, humanoid only in the vaguest of terms.

"Please," the voice whispers urgently. "You must give up. They will fight over you until the end of time."

Behind you, lightning cracks, and the light that flashes afterwards slams into the monolithic form ahead. Something inhuman screams, and you feel your eardrums pop and burst.

The heat of blood trickling out of your ears is almost relieving in the sharply cold water.

Beneath the water, something glows. It is a soft algae green, strangely welcoming amidst the storm.

You don't want to die.

You don't want to face those strange monsters.

You hesitate. If you go with this strange voice, how can you be assured of your survival?

There is a soft laugh. It is salt on your skin after a hot day at sea. It is gentle winds that fill sails, and the sound of water breaking as dolphins play.

"It is too late for that, sweet one. It is a fight for your soul, now. Your body is deep below."

You remember the warning bell ringing. Men sprinting to positions.

Winds that tore at your clothes and waves that surged higher than any man should see.

You remember the ship lurching, your foot catching in the rigging as it capsized.

You look down, and suddenly you know.

You swallow hard. A third creature has joined the fight, with bright feathers that drink in the lightning of the storm.

You wonder if you'll see your loved ones on the other side.

"You will never see your family again," the voice whispers. It is the muffled weeping of sailors, lonely at sea. The gentle, idle songs mumbled late at night. It is a durge sung as boats are pushed into the water and set ablaze. "You will never see them, but you will not be alone. You are with us, now. You are one of many."

You sink your head beneath the waves, and breathe in. You look down as your lungs fill.

A hand reaches upwards, made of a thousand skeletons. Strangely, it feels kind.

Not all of the bones are human, but for you, it is a fully humanoid hand, and it takes yours as you reach out.

What of my gods, you think. What will they do? When will they come for me? But the answer comes without a response. Those things above are the gods. And this...

This hand must be a god too.

"We are one and many," the voice replies. "We were you. You will be us. Here in the deep, we are together."

Yes, you think quietly. Together forever. Until the end of time.

When someone dies, the afterlife they go to is determined by WHERE they died. Dying in Scandinavia sends the soul to Valhalla or Hel, but dying in Greece lands them in Hades, and so on. You have just died in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

[binimom]

Countries in fiscal crisis

The problem of declining real wages in Japan

The revitalized Japanese economy that was heard from time to time not too long ago is a different story these days. In the face of constant economic adversity, more and more individuals are struggling financially. A particularly vulnerable group amidst this economic turmoil is low-wage workers, for whom the struggle to make ends meet has become a daunting challenge. Unfortunately, this is an all-too-familiar situation for the people of Japan, whose economy has been facing significant headwinds for more than a decade. Looking at the data released by Japan's Ministry of Health, Labor and Welfare, it's clear that the pressure on the working class is mounting. In April, labor statistics showed that real wages, or wages adjusted for inflation, fell for the 13th consecutive month. Nominal wages were up 1% year-over-year, but inflation effectively eroded that increase, resulting in a 3% decline in real wages. More worryingly, Japan's consumer price index, which excludes fresh food, surged 3.4% from the same period last year, outpacing March's 3.1% increase. The implications of this cannot be understated: workers are not only grappling with stagnant wages, they are also grappling with the rising cost of living.

Household consumption spillovers and the need for a wage increase

The consequences of the continued erosion of real wages permeate the broader economy beyond individual wallets and households. According to the Ministry of Internal Affairs and Communications' April household survey, consumption by households with two or more people fell a staggering 4.4% year-on-year in real terms, excluding the impact of inflationary changes. This is the steepest decline since February 2022, when a 6.5% drop was observed. The decline in consumption can be traced back to lower spending on food, communication, and education, among other things. This not only reflects the direct impact of low real wages and high inflation, but also points to broader socioeconomic issues. Reduced household spending can lead to a vicious cycle of reduced demand, potentially leading to reduced corporate profits and investment, contributing to an economic downturn. In this predicament, the need for wage increases is obvious. Raising wages isn't just about easing the financial burden on the common man; it's about stimulating consumption and driving demand, which in turn drives economic recovery. Raising wages isn't just a matter of social justice; it's a macroeconomic necessity. Governments, businesses, and workers need to recognize this reality and work together for real wage growth. In a country plagued by financial strain, raising wages has evolved from a luxury to a desperate necessity. The future of a country's economy depends on how effectively and quickly it addresses this pressing issue. For Japan, the way forward is clear. Raising wages is not only desirable, but essential for economic recovery.

[rants-about-opm]

Let’s Talk About The Redraw...

I’m gonna throw my hat in the ring here, because I’m just as pissed as the next guy.

So, Murata rewrote the latest chapter to remove Saitama and Garou’s heart-to-heart and instead throw in god...

Fucking Oops.

Look at this!

I cannot understate how much this means for both of these characters and their growth thus far.

Garou up to this point has been doggedly determined to end up on top in this fight from the moment he chose his path several beat up heroes ago. And at long last hes met his match, and when forced to come to terms with the fact that he won’t achieve what hes been striving for, his resolve crumbles and into suicidal thoughts.

I want to stress that acting like his mental state is anything but alarming is disingenuous. We can argue back and forth about the intention of his words here, but as we see him in these panels, he isn’t just upset or sad, he’s actively accepted death and is merely awaiting it at the hands of Saitama. 

That Saitama’s reaction in the redraw is changed from empathetic and concerned to downright undiscerning is a fucking tragedy.

Even before actively admitting that he’s waiting to be killed, Saitama is concerned about Garou, he’s hardly fighting back, he repeatedly tells him it’s time to stop, but now all of a sudden he couldnt care less? Garou is at his absolute lowest point, this is the make it or break it moment for helping this child, this teen, this barely-even-an-adult-man come to terms with himself and get better. Because that’s what this whole arc has been about, Garou’s rampage is an absolutely desperate cry for help from someone who doesn’t know how to use their words. Regardless of his abilities and his confidence in his own skill, this path he has taken is reckless and borders on self harm. In real life (something I’ve always praise ONE for abiding by the rules of when it comes to depictions of mental health in his works) Garou’s actions would be seen as blind violence from someone who is clearly not mentally well. Saitama’s interaction with him here is so important because it was always meant to be the other side of the coin, the flip side of what the heroes Garou has met so far have been. When all his violence has been approached in turn, Saitama is the blinding light in the tunnel, the hand stopping to reach out when no one else could think to. 

So let’s discuss what this change says about Saitama. 

Saitama who’s beginning to learn the importance of words, of being a hero in all your actions and reactions, not just in battle. 

Saitama who not 5 or so chapters ago went running to check on his disciple and assure him of his worth.

Saitama who despite his occasional temper is known to those *In Canon and Meta* for offhandedly offering advice whether it’s appreciated or not.

What does it say about him that suddenly he’s ignoring this, his most desperate case of all, one I’d say is most similar in mentality to him? Because Saitama can be a little dense at times, but he is very intuitive about people’s mental states, because he himself suffers with the highs and lows of mental health, he keenly understands the mind and its workings, even if he doesn’t fully realize it. People don’t just flock to Saitama because of his power. Tatsumaki is powerful. Amai is powerful. What draws people to Saitama as opposed to them is his mentality, his advice, his blunt declaration of the truth and refusal to back down from what is truly right, regardless of whether or not it’s a comfortable truth. It’s why he stands apart from the rabble, and why he is the only one that could ever possibly stand up for Garou. Garou has been up against strength before. Strength does nothing but crush his resolve, seeing yet another unbeatable hero squash the ‘bad guy’ under foot. Words are how you get through to him. Giving voice to those thoughts he could never quite articulate, breaking down the walls of his bias and showing him the truth of what he’s been trying to tell himself all along; he wants to be a hero. A real one.

And you know what a real hero doesn’t do?

Beat down their suicidal opponent until they feel cornered enough to be tricked into the servitude of a cruel and malevolent being intent on using them for unknown personal gain.

It almost makes me wish the webcomic had been completed before the manga started. I feel like Murata’s influence has not been a particularly great one on this series, given his pension for focusing on the grand nature of the story rather than the more important yet minute details of the characters and their individual tales. 

I really son’t understand what the intention for the story is going forward. The conclusion to this arc, a beautiful and heartfelt resolution to Garou’s story was handed to us on a silver platter, and now it’s been stripped down to bare bones and rotting flesh. I am angry about the redraw, so is everyone else, and it’s entirely deserved. Here’s to hoping Murata and ONE realize their mistake and drop the redraw before it’s too late. There is too much potential, too much resting on this single moment in the story for them to screw it up this bad.

On behalf of this abysmal rewrite, I am very sorry to everyone who has ever loved this series, been inspired by it, been helped by it (because I cannot understate the leaps and bounds to which my own mental health has been positively influenced by lessons I’ve learned from ONE’s works and I’m sure i’m not the only one).

 We all deserve the original version.

[ronoken]

I watched The House with my daughter, and I cannot understate that this type of horror is in no way directed at kids. Kids will watch this and think, “huh, okay, weird but whatever.”

But I’m not a kid.

I’m middle-aged, and this scared the absolute shit out of me.

The feeling of dread the second segment gives you, when you’re watching this broken, hollow mouse man pour all his money into a house during a recession, only to have everything crumble around him is Goddamn terrifying. The feeling of helplessness the movie conveys when you see how much time he’s spent making it perfect, how he struggles against the filth and bugs that keep invading, only to have the viewers destroy the home and everything fall apart? I was cringing so bad during the showing scene I was covering my eyes. The focus on the carpet, the panic in his voice as he’s trying desperately to keep everyone’s attention, the feeling of dread when you see how many times the bank has called... Ugh. Also, the isolation of the main character and how broken he is just gets under your skin. This is straight-up middle-aged horror at its finest.

Anyway, this is one of those that is unsettling and good no matter what, but if you’re in your 40’s, this shit gets real. Hauntingly real.

[sagan-starstuff]

YES YES YES I ENDORSE THIS TAKE!

I also hated 3 as a teen. How dare he have sex with a stranger when he loves Scully??? But as I aged, I came to understand how deeply hurt and broken Mulder is at this point. His actions in this episode are entirely in line with a deeply traumatized person with little regard for his own life reaching out to another deeply traumatized person with little regard for her own life, connecting in their pain, and trying to relieve some of that pain, even for a moment, the only way they know how. Sex is complicated. I don't see it as a betrayal of Scully at all, though he probably did. I see it as a desperate act of self-harm, an attempt to feel anything other than guilt and pain.

And in the end, Mulder still can't save her. He fails another woman, again. My god, the depths to which this man tortures himself. It puts so much of his rage in One Breath in context.

I also LOVE that you touched on the HIV/AIDS epidemic in the context of the time period. I'm in health care, specifically in infectious diseases. The first regimen of what was then called HAART (Highly Active Antiretroviral Therapy) didn't even come out until 1995, and they were insanely expensive and had many serious side effects. Until those medications were introduced, HIV/AIDS was a death sentence. I cannot understate how scary a time it was for many, many people. Kristen's casual disregard of HIV/AIDS would have been shocking at that time.

(Things are MUCH MUCH better now for people living with HIV - we can't cure it yet but current therapies are extremely effective and safe and people living with HIV now have an excellent chance of living long, full, healthy lives with regular care.)

Mulder’s Depressed Vampire Sex: Me on 3

You know, I like the episode 3. I mean, not the casefile part of 3, which is whatever whatever, but the important part: the blood fetishist lady has her way with Mulder and then he cries.

I definitely loathed the episode back when the show was airing. Back then it seemed like it was intentionally hostile to the ship—like going out of its way to be hostile, having Kristen tell Mulder shit like “I can tell you’re missing someone, but attention please: just a friend. Definitely not more!!!” I honestly kind of felt like she was looking out of the screen directly at me when she said it.

But looking back, knowing that MSR was endgame (and that fans kinda took over the narrative anyway), I definitely see the episode totally differently.

From a Mulder character arc point of view, this episode is all about him being a sad, sad boy. It is all about his depression, his hopelessness, his grief for Scully. It’s also about his drive to try to save women and girls in order to save himself. And he so often seems to fail at this when it is someone he cares about (or even when it is someone he has a fleeting connection with, like Kristen). And that’s so, so devastating for him. In that sense, this episode is a really desperate expression of his grief and frustration.

The HIV/AIDS angle to this ep is super important, too, so we have to make sure we’re getting into the full 1994 mindset on this. Mulder says in alarm to Kristen back in the club, when she’s playing fast and loose with blood: “AIDS. Aren’t you afraid?” (To which she responds that she wants to die.) Mulder knows that HIV transmission through sharing fluids is no joke in 1994 (it probably really shouldn’t be now either, but that’s not today’s lecture). Yet later, when Kristen is shaving him and he’s nicked, he allows this to be the catalyst for sex, even as he makes attempts to stop her from tasting his blood.

So his choice to have sex with Kristen is depicted as reckless, with someone who has been shown being careless about HIV. And he is doing it not just because he is turned on, but because he is being intentionally reckless with himself, clearly knowing the consequences. He shows concern for her, yes, but he’s also self destructive. He wants to fuck the hot vampire, but he also wants to fuck with death.

In other words, there’s a difference between what the episode tells us about Mulder’s relationship to Scully and what it shows us. And what the episode shows us about their relationship is that Scully is central enough in his life that everything is fundamentally affected by her abduction. He’s broken. He’s visibly depressed. He makes decisions that risk his job and his life. All the while he is actually choosing to wear her cross: a symbol that traditionally wards off vampires, as Kristen observes, but also keeps Scully’s presence in his mind constantly and in every frame of the episode he's in. And the episode ends with him looking like a hero in a romance novel mournfully casting his eyes to the hills clutching her cross in his hand.

None of this obviously communicates “I miss my work friend,” right? No objective observer would see this and say, “ah, he clearly is missing someone—most likely a friend, I would say.” But probably that’s exactly why they included Kristen’s “just a friend” line. They knew his grief in this episode was reading very powerfully, and they didn’t want it to seem overtly romantic.

I also feel like it’s kind of significant that the only time we actually see Mulder have confirmed sex with someone (besides Scully later) is when he’s depressed and Scully is gone. Linking his grief for Scully to his very-rarely-seen acting out on sexual desire like this also seems kind of psychologically sus to me, but I don’t know, I read a lot of fanfic.

Speaking of which, I did a little fanfic search for 3. And unless I am missing obvious fics (always a possibility), it was kind of difficult. Partly because this is a stupidly hard episode to look in search engines for. (No one should ever name episodes after numbers, although this one I will forgive because it’s from 1994 and they couldn’t have fully understood about Google and AO3.)

But also I just think there hasn’t been a ton of 3 fanfic, probably because this episode isn’t very well-liked. And listen, I get that Scully isn’t in it, which is often unappealing for writers, and there is Mulder/other, which people don’t like. But I feel like there are a lot of possibilities for story ideas here that don’t necessarily take place during the events of the episode. Like: how does it affect them later? Personally I like fics where Mulder and Scully discuss the events of the episode long after (actually I wrote one, which I included in my recs because I’m not that cool). I also think Mulder’s angst and depression has a lot of ways it could go—not to mention it’s the last canonically confirmed time he has sex before like 2000 or something. And it seems like AU takes on what happened to Kristen could be interesting. So what I'm saying is: maybe try writing 3 fics.

3 Fanfic Recs

Three is a Crowd - wendelah1 Mulder has sex with Kristen but can’t stop thinking of Scully.

Analgesic- settledownfrohike Mulder has sex with Kristen but can’t stop being a self-loathing, self-destructive mess. And thinking of Scully.

The Woman In His Heart - Spangle This shorter piece frames Mulder’s time with Kristen as a revelation about his feelings. Angsty and nicely observed. A 2005 Spooky winner, evidently.

False Dawn - emmbright A sharply etched portrait of how Mulder moves through his life between 3 and One Breath. For me this fills in the blanks perfectly.

Dreams - Characteristically_Exuberant This is actually a (great) post-ep for Field Trip, and the events of 3 aren’t the main focus of the fic. But I like how this author discusses what happened with Mulder in that episode and contextualizes it for both agents.

We’re Not Here To Get Involved In Personal Problems - cecily_sass This is mine, also not really a 3 post-ep; it’s an X-Cops post-ep. I feel a little silly including it. But I had them discuss the events of 3 in this fic in a way that sort of lays out my own thesis of the episode, and I thought, hey, it’s my list. Mulder and Scully walk to a gas station in Willow Park in Los Angeles the morning after X-Cops; they discuss plenty.

Any others? I feel like I probably missed some.

[heniareth]

oc codex - 17 for Astala and 6 for Ilanlas 😘

Icyyyyyyyyy, hello!!!! Always lovely to see you XD XD XD I hope you're doing well, friend; that you're having fun and also chances to rest ^^ And if not, that you'll get to do so soon. Meanwhile, we got some questions for Astala and Ilanlas; let's go!!

17. a description of your OC's family by a future historian (for Astala)

"The role of Cyrion Tabris in the Hero of Ferelden's upbringing cannot be understated. While scholars, contemporary and past, have primarily focused on Adaia Tabris due to her being the one responsible for the Hero of Ferelden's martial training and grand personality, and studying the figure of Adaia definitely has its merits, this approach ignores the formative years in which Cyrion Tabris was the sole provider and parental figure for the family. The term 'sole providor' is used loosely here, as life in the Alienage was and still is decidedly communal. Still, Cyrion had final say over the Hero of Ferelden and his nephews for several years. The sudden disappearance of Adaia Tabris, moreover, would have increased his influence in the household as a potential providor of stability and security after such a traumatic event. Credit where credit is due: all of the Tabris children 'made something out of themselves', as the old adage says. This is, perhaps, the biggest testament to the care and education provided to them, and thus to the character of Cyrion Tabris."

From They Were Their Guides: An Study in Parenthood Based on Influential Figures in the History of Thedas, by Millen Guerrin, professor of psychology at the university of Gwaren (13:24 Terrors)

6. someone describing a time your OC has helped them (for Ilanlas)

A letter written in orderly script and with a noble house's seal on it, stored away safely in the royal archives in Denerim, in a folder dedicated to the darkspawn incursion in Amaranthine:

"To her Majesty, Queen Anora, first of her house:

My lady,

You will find little in me to disprove of Warden-Commander Mahariel's actions. The city of Amaranthine has all but been wiped out, true, but what else is there to do in the event of a darkspawn infestation and a plague? Let your judgement be guided, rather, by his actions. About two months into the trouble with the darkspawn, my daughter Eileen was abducted by vicious bandits. All search for her was fruitless; when the ransom note came, I didn't dare hope to see her again. In my desperation, I wrote to the arlessa, and it was her who sent the Warden-Commander on the bandids' trail. I do not know how he succeeded, but today my Eileen sits next to me at the table, alive and well. And mine is not the only account of the Warden-Commander's good heart; ask around Amaranthine, and you will find others. My daughter confirms that his manners are unpleasant and that he is a man of practicality, not sentimentality. But one cannot blame these qualities in the commander of a force such as the Grey Wardens, surely.

Ever at your service,

Ser Edgar Bensley"

---

ahfhagkajksha I love writing these fake academic texts XD XD XD XD Makes me feel so important and knowledgeable. Ilanlas's codex refers to the side-quest "A daughter ransomed" in DA: Awakening. I still want to do a playthrough with him as Warden-Commander, but I was fairly sure he'd try to help there--and succeed in bringing the girl back alive. Another option would've been the battle at the city of Amaranthine, but I'm not sure if he'd sacrifice the city or not

Thank you for the asks!! These werte very fun to write and I hope you enjoyed reading them XD XD XD Give Saskia and Vergil my love and have a lovely day!!

[fanficsrusz]

Lure Of The Maw Chapter Two - Henry Cavill Pirate AU

Warnings: Eventual Smut. Kidnapping. Mentions of physical harm. Men being Pervy. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN SOCIAL MEDIA CONSUMPTION. NOT ME. THEREFORE I DO NOT ACCEPT ANY RESPONSIBILITY IF YOU GET TRIGGERED FROM THIS POINT ON. If you read and you feel like I’ve missed a T/W then please let me know nicely and I will adjust ❤️.

Pairing: Y/n x Pirate Henry cavill

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Y/n’s sheltered life comes crashing down when pirates use her to get what they want.

A/n; I take way to long to update anything but here we are 😂. I still have no idea what I want to happen do enjoy the nonsense until i finally get a proper plot.

Chapter one

Sleep came like the falling of an axe. I knew it must come but I fought it with everything that I had. Those defenceless hours, oblivious to my surroundings, were enough to light up my whole body with fiery sparks that make me want to scream with anger and cry with fear. I am utterly wired until that time when I cannot fight it anymore and the sleep is as instantaneous as it is unwelcome. I have some warning though, when my thoughts become intertwined with random ideas, impossible ideas, I seek my flimsy bed, not what I'm used to, and hope I can get maybe even an hour's sleep before I have to experience the horror show that is reality.

Tucked into the little shelf that night, the sleep pooled on my eyelids, and the wooden ship was filled with the soft sounds of people sleeping. The wind swooped up, over the heights of the sails, rushed and rustled through the creaking beams, and gradually ebbed away through the crags to silence that wasn't filled with the waves crashing against the side of the ship. No longer did the rocking make me feel sick, but instead created a soothing rhythm to which rocked me to sleep.

The previous day had been quiet, nothing to feel the numbing void of darkness that was offered from the bare walls. Those few hours alone was enough to make me crave any type of communication, any voice, any entertainment. But instead I only found comfort in the darkness of my eyelids.

I had no idea how long I had been asleep for until I woke to the sound of breathing that wasn't my own. It was heaving, like a man's and rapid as if he's run into the room. I listen, still, trembling as the memories of where I am rush back. He's moving slowly, his heavy feet creaking floor boards that are silent for me.

"Wake up, Princess" there booms that deep voice that still sends shivers down my spine and despite the heat that floods my body, I remain still in the poorly lit room. I can hear him lean against a beam in the room, his hands tapping gently against metal - probably his sword, or belt buckle. The way he calls me princess is more of a sarcastic humour rather than being respectful and I fight the urge to roll my eyes beneath my closed lids.

I can hear him huffing to himself when I don't respond to him and within seconds he's calling out to me again.

"For God sake, heavy sleeper are we?" I hear his weight shift again and this time the heavy strides of his steps come closer and before I can even register anything, I can feel his hand on my shoulder as he roughly shakes me.

My eyes shoot open as a gasp leaves my lips and he pulls away from me. I sit up straight and throw my legs off of the bed as I jump to my feet, trying to make my body appear as large as possible, as if he was a bear.

"I would prefer it if you didn't lay your dirty hands upon me again, captain!" His title came out as a bitter poison that I hoped would cause him some pain, something I had come to do just as he called me princess. I could have walked away had it not been for the smirk. That little rise in the corner of his mouth he was oblivious to combined with the cool detachment in his eyes that was mixed with a playful gleam of excitement that seemed to spark in his eyes.

I had unintentionally given him inner delight. He was savouring the moment as if it was a sweet nectar.

"Sleep well?"

Maybe it was his stupid face or his stupid tone, or maybe just my lack of control but I once again found my self taking a swing at him with as much ease as the restraints around my wrist would allow. But with a grunt Henry caught my wrist mid air.

That deep, low, chuckle that only he could manage echoed through the cabin again and I felt my teeth dig into my cheeks as he tightened his grip on my wrist.

"Barely even awake and already taking swings at me." his smirk remained unchanged as he stared down at me and with a rapid jerking motion of my arm, I pulled my hand from his grip.

"You're going to have to be faster than that next time"

Henry's stillness scared me. Perhaps it is the faint sunlight making his skin gleam, or the lack of wind letting every hair hang without movement, I'm not sure. He doesn't even blink. Our bodies sway with the movement of the ship, a lazy and understated rocking motion. It's times like this where if this was someone else, I would turn away and try to hide from their gaze, but not with Henry. He had this power over me that even I couldn't explain.

Henry had quite forgotten what one can see in peripheral vision and his eyes are walking from my hair line to my feet and back up again. In short, he is staring and there seems no end to his fascination. The only time his gaze breaks is when I clear my throat in an attempt to calm my thumping heart.

"I guess I will just keep on practicing".

With a swish on my dress, I take my seat again, holding my back straight and folding my arms as best as I could as I turn my gaze to the small window in the room.

I can feel Henry's gaze on me for a moment longer and from my peripheral vision I can see his tongue lick over his bottom lip.

"I have some businesses to talk to you about". The playful tone in his voice had stilled and instead was replaced by a more serious one and I rolled my eyes.

"And what's that? Is my scent to hypnotic for your idiotic crew" sarcasm.

I expected some sort of laugh or sarcastic comeback but instead all i got was a serious response.

"We have received word from your father" just like how Henry had turned serious, I too felt my body stiffen as I snapped my head to look at him, analysing to see if he was telling the truth.

"What?"

"Read for yourself" He produced a single piece of parchment from his pocket, the bright red wax sigil was one I was oh so familiar with.

With a push I was on my feet and with two large strides I found myself inches in front of Henry as I snatched the paper from his hands. My eyes skimmed over the cursive letters, my mind numbing at the words that laid there.

"It seems we have a deal"

Shock brings a quietness within, a moment to feel my emotions change gear and numb my soul for what is to come. My brain stutters for a moment and my eyes take in more light than I expected, every part of me goes on pause while my thoughts catch up.

"Looks like he really does care about you after all" Henry's sarcastic tone returns and for once I don't know what to say.

"No" that's the only word on my mind as I reread the words over and over again. "My father would have never made a deal with people like you!"

"Well whether you believe it or not, Princess, your father has agreed to disburse the taxes back to my people in exchange for your safe return".

My eyes glance up at him through my lashes and I shove the paper back into his hand as I turn my back to him, not quite sure what I was feeling. How could my father bargain with - pirates?

With a sigh Henry continues.

"I'm just waiting for word from a friend in the village to make sure he does what he says and then your father has demanded that I leave you with a fleet of his royal guards, about a four days journey from here" I hear his voice waver a little and all I do is remain silent.

"So that's it then? I can go home in four days"

"As long as your father keeps his end of the deal then you will be sipping tea and eating your fancy pansy food by the end of the week and I will be nothing more than a distant memory"

That's what I was afraid of. Maybe it was seeing the same castle walls for the past countless years or the constant routine of being followed by guards everywhere, but with Henry, I felt a spark of excitement, endless thoughts of what could happen rather than knowing every little detail of what my future holds. And even if Henry didn't say it, I could see the look in his eyes when I disobeyed him or talked back to him. He enjoyed it just as much as I did.

His face remained motionless for a second more before his lips turned up again in what I had come to assume was his factory setting.

"Did you think I was lying? That I wouldn't keep up my end of the deal?" he chuckled lowly as he stepped forward and I felt my feet remain in their spot. "Just because I'm a pirate doesn't doesn't inherently make me a liar"

I could feel his breath on my face, the smell of alcohol strong but not unbearable, instead it was almost intoxicating but for all the wrong reasons.

"I had a mission princess." I watched as his eyes darkened and I felt the way his warm, rough fingers found my skin, wrapping around my neck with ease as he gently squeezed. I could breathe but I was more than aware that he could take that from me at any moment. I didn't move, didn't jump or didn't scream. I only stared at him, watching my reflection in his eyes.

"It wasn't to take you…. To torture you or - have my way with you" I heard the desperation in his voice and I to felt a familiar warmth in my stomach as I tried to control myself.

His eyes remained focused on me, as did mine on him. I swallowed hard and it made me all the more aware of his hand on my throat and the power he held over me.

Just as the warmth became almost unbearable, he pulled his hand away and it left a burning that I know no one could even recreate.

"No. It was to simply get your father's attention" Henry cleared his throat as he turned away from me, trying and failing to hide the fact that he was readjusting himself. "and Now that I have that, you can rest easy. Enjoy your few days at see and then you can be back home"

Seeing the effect I blatantly had on him made my heart twirl and hearing his voice made my stomach flutter. I can't help but feel this way about him.

Pin-drop silence...? How is that remotely possible with my heart somersaulting. His mahogany hair moving through his fingers as he brushed it back in a way I have come to adore and his cerulean eyes locking onto me as he turned back to face me in a trance with such intensity; looking away is unthinkable. His eyes constrict as he winked at me, unaware of the repercussions. The dimples that indent in the corners of his embellished skin is my last coherent thought as I become painfully aware of the silence that wrapped around us.

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks as Henry looked in my direction, he grinned and I snapped my head away, knowing that if I continued to stare I would get lost in his big blue eyes. I could feel his eyes still on me, I silently inhaled and exhaled, hoping that his thoughts about me were good.

"I'm hungry" I quickly spurt out, not really knowing what else to say. What else could I say? I want to feel your touch on me again? I don't want to go back home because I can't stop thinking about what could happen between us? You make me feel something I've never felt before? I want to have your cock as deep inside me as humanly possible? This man was turning me into a harlot.

Henry smiled to himself, his eyes dropping as he inhaled deeply.

"Very well, i'll send something in".

With a nod of his head he sent a member of the crew off to fulfill my request. Henry turned around to leave but not before taking one last look up and down my body. He may have thought I didn't see that, but I did.

"Captain?" I called out hastily and he stopped in his tracks and his attention was back on me.

I said nothing and only extended my binded hands in his direction. Henry raised his eyebrows in confusion before finally letting them fall as he realised what I was asking of him.

"What? No!" he huffed out a chuckled and I let my arms drop back to my body

"How does once expect me to eat with these"

"Well you seemed to manage quite fine when trying to attack me earlier. Not to mention how you busted my lip not too long ago as well" Henry crossed his arms and my face remained stoic.

"it's not going to happen, Princess. No offence but I don't fancy waking up with a knife to my throat" I opened my mouth to protest but decided against it seeing as he was half right.

I felt my lip twitch in annoyance as I suddenly accepted the fact that the binds were there to stay for a while longer and I shifted on my feet.

"I don't blame you. I would do the same if I was in the same situation - fight back that is." His eyes softened a little in reassurance and my heart once again flipped. "But nonetheless, the ropes stay tied".

Henry once again turned to leave me but for some reason I just couldn't stop myself. I wanted him to stay with me almost.

"My father really isn't a bad man" I watched as Henry's shoulders stiffened and he sighed heavily.

"How I do wish to live in that fantasy world you get to live in"

He slowly turned again and the soft expression and playful smirk were gone, instead replaced with an angered grimace.

"He is a bad man. He's a murderer and a thief." his eyes remained dark with rage.

"Let's just say I wouldn't lose a night's sleep if I got the chance to kill him myself, I can tell you that" his rage subsided a little as he noticed my wide eyes and his chuckle once again filled the room.

"Don't worry, princess. Your daddy's going to be just fine unless he goes back on his word. if he takes you and then goes back on his promise, he's going to lose more than just you. He'll lose his limbs, his eyes, he's tongue and just about everything else".

I remained silent through his little threat. Henry huffed a little, running his hand over his beard.

"I'm not a monster, princess. I may be a brood and violent at times. But I have my reasons for the way I am. Can you say the same for your father?" His voice became softer and calmer than I had heard before. I couldn't tell who was lying. Him. Or me. The one person who kept saying my father wasn't a monster.

I saw those gravity-drawn shoulders painting a picture of Henry's heart, as if neither it nor his soul would welcome a beat. I see in his eyes that his brain had built some new walls with him so lonely on the other side. I too knew that same feeling as I felt the tears burn the edges of eyes.

My eyes fell to the floor and I watched as he stepped closer to me, his hand coming to tap my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

His eyes were so different in that moment, more soft than I knew eyes could be. The dangerous pirate who could kill me at any second was gone and instead they were the eyes of one who cared deeply. If it were anyone else I would drop my gaze, but with him, I'm drawn in closer, always wanting more. In his eyes is humanity, the person he really is and not what the world saw him as.

"The world is a cruel place and the truth is cold, y/n" he spoke my name with such delicacy and it made me feel warm inside. Never before did my name sound so beautiful.

"you've had the luxury of hiding from it, but I haven't. You could judge me for the way I turned out and I can sure as hell judge you too. Safe, naive, sheltered, believing that everything is good and all is right. All the while my people are being beaten, hung, dragged behind on horses as they scream for their lives - " his voice grew in volume and the rage he felt was understandable and I felt sorry for him. " - and for what? For not being able to pay some ridiculous tax?"

Henry's breathing became heavy, rugged and uneven and my heart ached to hug him, to apologise for everything.

"All I can say is ask him yourself when you get back. See if his eyes speak true to his innocence." Behind that icy stare was a mountain of pain, yet extracting it would bring pain and instability.

We stood in silence, the only thing keeping me from crying was the fact that my teeth dug into my cheeks, a trick I was taught by a maid to control my emotions years ago.

Neither of us moved until a knock filled the silence and we both shifted away from each other. I wiped my eyes of their vacant tears and Henry cleared his throat. I turned my head away from the man who entered the room with a tray of food, and I listened closely as I heard two sets of footsteps leave the room without another word.

~~

My thoughts were blank. What a strange occurrence. Normally my thoughts were twisting and turning; suffocating me with their whispers. But now, nothing. What did I know? I knew nothing. I lived a lie and now I didn't know what to do.

I chewed my nail impatiently, my foot bouncing against the wood below them and I needed answers of the truth.

"Princess!" that deep voice called out to me from down the hall outside my room and I jumped to my feet, straightening out my dress a little in the process.

The second I saw his head of hair peer round the door, I allowed my face to hold its stoic position as I waited to see what he wanted.

"Good evening. How was your dinner?" His eyes fell to the empty plate that once held an array of foods from chicken to nuts and dates, not what I had expected from a pirate ship. In all honesty they could have given me a stale piece of bread and I would have consumed every crumb within seconds.

"It was satisfactory" I held my head high as he picked up the plate and handed it to someone else.

"Oh my sincere apologies on behalf of the ship's cook for disappointing your majesty" he gave a small bow and it stunned me how his cocky nature had quickly returned and I was still caught up in my emotions.

"Are you mocking me, Captain?" His eyes squinted slightly as he drew out a long hum before nodding profusely.

"hmmm, yes" he laughed loudly and I rolled my eyes.

"Well if that is all you intend to do I request to be alone"

"That's not all I came down here for".

He peeked my interest and I peered at him intently.

"No, I came to check in on you. Give you a little bit of company" Henry looked around the room as if he had never seen it before himself as he took a seat on a chair that sat in the corner, the wood creaking under his weight.

"it does get awfully lonely down here and something tells me you aren't one to go without attention"

I stared him down and blew a strand of hair from my face.

"Don't take me for a fool, captain" my voice was strong and unfaltering and Henry held his hands up defensively.

"Caught me in a lie you did" he chuckled again before sitting back comfortably. His eyes stared at my body again before landing on my face that I was sure had a tint of red.

"Alright, I confess - You fascinate me"

Words left me as my mind went blank.

"w-what?" the only word that seemed I was able to speak.

"Well I just can't stay away. I'm actually going to miss having you aboard. You've got a fire inside you that no one seems to dampen. Never before have I had someone speak to me the way you do. I thought about the day someone finally did and I imagined what they would look like. But a princess never seemed to fit that description. You're definitely more than I bargained for".

I felt almost embarrassed as he stared at me, the warmth in my stomach almost matching the warmth that radiated from my chest.

"Not once have you wailed or cried in self pity. You haven't begged for your life or your father's" he shook his head as he seemed to remember something, an inside joke maybe. Henry wagged his finger at me and chuckled.

"But you. You take swings at me, spit in my face and you fight back".

I felt a small smile pull at my lips as pride filled me.

"So?"

"so, if I stay here for a little while will I get hurt again?"

The smile on my face grew a little at the admittance that I had managed to hurt him.

"No" I simply said, taking a seat on my bed.

"tell me. Will you be happy to return?" The smile I had faded just as quick as it had appeared and even I didn't know the answer to that but thankfully Henry was too eager with his questions to allow me to linger on that one.

"What's it even like there? To live in luxury? I reckon my imagination doesn't do it justice"

I felt a sarcastic remark bite at my tongue and I couldn't control it.

"It's more than an animal like you deserves" I glanced at him briefly with a glint of resistance before turning my gaze back to the wall.

"Oh I see. You know it's funny, princess" Henry stood from his seat and slowly marched to stand in front of me, hands behind his back as his eyes remained on me. "Your lips insult me… But your eyes twinkle as they do"

I swallowed the lump in my front as I crossed my legs and straightened my posture.

"I have no idea what you are talking about"

Henry chuckled, stepping closer to me before leaning down so his face was inches away from mine.

"You know what I think? I think I am no more of an animal to you than you are a rich, spoiled brat to me" our eyes met and I could see the resistance that both of us held. His eyes flickered down to my lips for a second and I could tell he didn't mean to do it. "I think we both know that there's more to each other than meets the eye"

I so badly wanted to reach out to him, to run my fingers through his salty hair. But my pride held me back and Henry thankfully stood up.

"Be honest, there's a part of you that's thriving on all of this. Being amongst pirates and being at sea away from civilization and prying eyes. And being more than a pretty face in a perfect little world" his voice turned dark with desire as I stared up at him, not quite sure what to say.

"So you admit you think I'm pretty"

"and you don't deny anything else"

We both held our gazes strong and anyone could feel the tension that surrounded us.

"You see, I can be quite perspective - for an animal" He chuckled lowly and I still remained silent.

"Well princess, I bid you goodnight. I'm going to be turning in soon."

Henry turned to leave and I suddenly found my voice.

"Can you leave a candle burning?" Henry smiled and simply nodded, pulling a match from his pocket and sticking it to create a flame that lit the room much more.

"I'm sorry for leaving you in the dark, princess." he smiled softly.

"And maybe a blanket?" Henry's eyes flooded with guilt as he finally noticed the way I clung onto myself for any warmth.

"You've - you've been cold?" I watched as his gaze turned to his men who stood outside the door and their faces turned white with fear.

"My sincere apologies, Princess. My men should have been on that and I promise you the right consequences will be taken"

I laughed quietly as I watched the men scramble to find a blanket and within seconds one was being handed to me.

"Now for God's sake we are not your servants, no more requests".

I wrapped the scratchy blanket around my body but I couldn't care less because the warmth was all I needed.

"Good night, princess"

"Good night, captain"

Tbc

(tags will be added in reblog)

[yellowocaballero]

Oh also directors cut of reel to reel/less than zero. Why are all your role swaps powerful epics that span multiple fics

Because role swaps are the ideal form of fanfiction. What's your point. reel 2 reel lessgo

“You...are a good kid .” Anakin pointed a serious finger at Obi-Wan, who rolled his eyes. “Smarter than I am! You’re going to grow up to be a better Jedi than all the rest of them, no matter what they said about me and you and her. And if you aren’t a good Jedi, then - then I’ll love you. Always love you, Obi-Wan. No matter what!”

“Thank you for the validation!” Obi-Wan cried. Every time. Every time! “I love you too! Rex, should we carry him out?”

“See,” Anakin muttered to himself, or maybe at the couch. “ ‘S not that hard to say. Dunno why Qui-Gon’s so kriffing allergic. People say it all the time, it’s just him who’s the freaking - what ever - unfair -”

For some reason, Cody’s words slowly marching through his head, Obi-Wan felt compelled to say, “You’re just as good as Master Ahsoka was, Master. Honest. You are. I know it’s hard for you, but it’s okay. Don’t feel bad…”

But Anakin wasn’t paying attention, rubbing at his eyes as if he just couldn’t stay awake. “Shoulda left with her. Everything would be okay if I just kriffing manned up and left…”

Anakin is not a great guardian!

TCW series does depict him as a good master, which they are allowed to do and which is great! I just do whatever I want, though. And my kind of rule with Anakin is 'yeah, Darth Vader tracks'.

The way I think about Anakin is that he's magnetic and charming. He's an awful dweeb teen, he's a cocky war hero, he's flying off the handle, whatever, but people are attracted to him. He has a way of making you feel like the most special person in the universe. He loves you! He loves you so much! He thinks you're the greatest thing since sliced toast! Why are you being so mean to him! It's like you don't even care about him! You KICK Anakin? You kick him like the -

It's a little intoxicating, I think. Cody has a line about this in the next story - nobody will hear anything bad about Anakin. Qui-Gon, Padme, Obi-Wan, Rex, the clones, the Holonet, a lot of the Jedi...it's not that he can do no wrong, but he's a loveable scamp who you'll always be loyal to. He loves loving people.

I wrote out a bunch about Anakin in Less than Zero, but I deleted it because he's not important lmfao. I toss out a lot of random stuff about him throughout the series - he rages, but he always apologizes. He says stuff that scares Obi-Wan. He's furious at the dehumanization of the clones. He's symbolic of the 'war' side, while Qui-Gon's symbolic of the 'Jedi' side - so Obi-Wan always drifts to Anakin. He's so damn excited to get a padawan, because finally that's somebody who has to love him, and it'll be just like Ahsoka all over again.

His early childhood with Ahsoka is also understated, but he has basically deified her. It's important that he's a black and white thinker, and you're his enemy or you're his hero. She saved him, and you KNOW she was more enthusiastic about it than QG lol. It's shown she lets him see his mom. She was maternal. She was badass and cool and #rogue. She always understood him, and she was probably the only one who did. Again, cannot be overstated, Ahsoka was maternal.

Then Palps the Jedi took her away from him.

Poor Qui-Gon couldn't match up. And Anakin is left desperately trying to be the Ahsoka he remembered to Obi-Wan, but he can't. He can't recreate that connection. He doesn't have the relationship to Obi-Wan he wants. Obi-Wan doesn't love him unconditionally, he's different personality wise, and he's found far more consistent guardian figures elsewhere. And this perfect, sacred master-padawan relationship isn't exactly how Anakin wants.

Ha ha he resents the clones a little bit ha ha ha...?

Jesus, it's Anakin. He gets two scenes and I mention him a handful of times but he's incredibly important and I could go on and on. I did have a whole thing about him in the convo with Padme that explains quite a bit, but talking about him in the story just didn't fit. As usual, Anakin (and Ahsoka) colors everything else, but very meaningfully he isn't actually freaking there. He and Qui-Gon aren't there. Cody is.

[voxmilia]

alright, propaganda for the three sapphics and their rat man

literally every single combo works.

edeleth speaks for itself. emperor with the weight of the world on her shoulders x the person she sees as an equal who guides her to be better? amazing, 100/10, no notes

the edelgard and dorothea supports are so refreshing, it's two obviously queer women who talk about their attraction to each other, admit that a future together would be interesting. And in their A support, it's that great cliche where edelgard is like "i haven't seen you trying to get a husband in a while" and the very clearly smitten dorothea is like "oh uh, yeah it's just easy to forget about that when we're talking like this."

dorothea who has a carefully crafted persona, desperately searching for a spouse to give her the love and security she's always wanted, and byleth who unintentionally sees straight through her in a way she doesn't know how to deal with. eventually choosing to bear her soul on her own terms when she recognizes byleth doing her best to make dorothea comfortable. and how, when faced with the future she's always wanted, not knowing how to process it, giving byleth so many reasons why they could pick someone else and then lighting up when they insist on her.

and there's something so powerful about the devotion that surrounds hubert's interactions with all three of them!!

firstly: liege x retainer? iconic always. that man fought soldiers off for three entire days as a ten year old child because she was taken from him. his entire existence is meant to boost her up and do the dirty, bloody work necessary to help her ascend the throne. like???? come on.

but let's not forget dorothea who looks at hubert's devotion and can't comprehend it, tries so hard to grasp it, and decides that she wants to be at his side forever to understand even a fraction of how he operates, to understand this feeling that goes beyond loyalty, beyond love. also also their ending has them running mittlefrank as a covert spy operation and idc what anyone says, that's sexy as hell

and i cannot understate the power of hubert's suspicion for byleth melting slowly but surely when she chooses edelgard and then comes back to them. how his threats to kill her end up in an a-support where either he admits he trusts her with his life, or he infers that she trusts him to end hers should she lose herself. openly admitting to a woman he spent years ready to destroy that if he had a second life, it would belong to her. insane behavior.

also also, hubert literally admits to talking things over with edelgard in his s support so like. our mans cleared it with their mutual girlfriend before proposing which is very considerate.

Please old hubba, can you do fem!byleth x edelgard x dorothea x hubert? My first three cf playthroughs, I just rotated those four in every combo, they're my favorite quad

FE: Should they kiss?

Byleth x Edelgard x Dorothea x Hubert

[maxwell-grant]

Any thoughts on Sandman Mystery Theatre and Wesley Doods?

I'll probably write more in-depth about Wesley in particular once I'm more acquainted with his history, because I've discovered recently there is much, much more to the JSA's characters than I had initially presumed, and some pretty massive bits of Wes's own history that I can't overlook in a more in-depth post. But regarding Sandman Mystery Theatre, I gotta talk about my history with it specifically.

I picked up the first volume of Sandman Mystery Theatre by complete accident when I was very young. At the time I was specifically looking for Sandman comics because I wanted to do a school project on Neil Gaiman's Sandman, which I knew very little about, and so I picked up at a store Endless Nights and a comic called Sandman Mystery Theatre that, as you can see in the cropped image above, had his name on the cover, so I figured it had to be in the same series (which it kinda is but not really).

While there's older stuff that's tied up in my appreciation of them, this was my first encounter with Pulp Heroes, even when I didn't know what they were, before I discovered The Shadow for real. Ground Zero, as we call it. And it all starts specifically with this page:

The comic had already started off completely unlike anything I'd picked up before from Marvel and DC. It was an urban story with no superheroes or cartoons in sight, instead there were all these regular, wrinkled middle-aged people with warts and sweaters and pudgy noses at the center of it, people that you don't find in superhero stories where the imperfections of humanity are ever shaved off. It was more akin to what I had only experienced through film, but in a comic, and at the time, that was new to me.

And when it was time for the story's big reveal of it's hero, the big wide shot reserved for a Superman power stance or Batman hunched in the rain, it was with this scene: A weird little creep in a trenchcoat and fedora, with a gas mask barely concealing his startled eyes, shocked by the intrusion of the light that ever so blesses The Superhero Moment, squatting in a dirty bathroom with a hand stretched out menacingly towards the horrified woman, stretching towards you, stretching past the panel borders that should lock this ugly little thing in it's place.

I still think of this image as one of the main signifiers as to what I think sets superheroes and pulp heroes apart. Because at the time, this was a revelation. This costume was a revelation in general.

I was never going to find Spider-Man or Wolverine like this, even their dirtier and less dignified moments were still mired in some form of glory. Even in Spider-Man's lowest points he's still expect to rise above them dramatically or at least suffer them dramatically, when Wolverine prowls in the sewers he does so gleaming with power and ferocity and ripped shirts and immortality. And of course, I was never going to look like, or be like, Spider-Man or Wolverine no matter how hard I worked at it.

But this guy? This is a shitty little bug man caught with it's pants down somewhere it was not supposed to be, as terrified of being caught as we would be to find it prowling around. Painfully humanized, despite it's best efforts. He's dressed in a drab suit with a dorky tie, a disheveled coat, and a gas mask and hat. But the thing about “coolness” is that often the best way to make something genuinely cool is to try to make it uncool to begin with. There's nothing super about this guy, but there's something effortlessly cool about him nonetheless, something that doesn't require a bodybuilder's physique or a model's face, something unlike a superhero but just as cool visually if not more so. Anyone could look like this guy.

I could look like this guy.

And not just visually, the other thing that hooked me into Mystery Theatre was it's characterization. Much like the art, it was different than what I was used to from other comics I read. It dealt with it's drama differently, it's deaths had weight and so did the character's reactions to them. It had gangsters and torturers and serial killers and pedophiles and crooked police officers and none of them were going to get chopped to bits by Wolverine or tied up in streetlights by Batman anytime soon. It didn't have supervillains, it had a mother and son as masked murderers and torturers hiding in plain sight even while mutilating their own families. It had grueling torture scenes and it's female protagonist forcing herself to stare at the mutilated corpse of her best friend just so she can spare her family the pain of doing so. 

Diane Belmont is great and, again, I had never seen a comic book with this kind of story with a female protagonist so strongly at the forefront of it, and with all these other characters getting their side stories in. It was not about the guy in a costume being the center of everything awesome to happen, because there was hardly anything of the sort happening. "Understated" is the key word here for what made Sandman Mystery Theatre special to me at the time.

Wesley Dodds himself is a schlubby, quiet guy in glasses with a pudgy nose and a round face who makes origami and writes poems, who only really has his gun and mask and wits to tackle problems he is not even particularly well-equipped to handle, but goes out there and does anyway. He moves around quietly but still has to escape desperate situations by the skin of his teeth. He doesn't interrogate people in costume by dangling them off rooftops, he threatens to poison their dog if they don't tell him what he needs to know. He sets up little traps with cans and wire to let him know if a cop is approaching his investigation, and he doesn't take down the Tarantula at the end without assistance nor does he linger around to receive any credit for it.

He is not at all an action hero, nothing about this guy even really indicates he's cut out for this life, but he's determined and compelled and tormented by nightmares that don't allow him to refuse the call, so he makes it happen, and throught that, he makes enough of a difference to shift the scales of life and death to those that cannot rely on others to protect them. Those that can't rely on police or family or superheroes to save them. That's when the eerie little nobody in a fedora and gas mask comes in, inadequate as he may be, still desperately trying to do the right thing.

While I did read some of his Golden Age adventures for context's sake, I don't know much of anything about Wesley's other adventures outside of Mystery Theatre or his costumed superhero phase or history with the JSA and DCU and whatnot, and frankly that stuff is so far removed from my enjoyment of Mystery Theatre that it might as well just be a different character (although I will be checking out out of curiosity).

So yes, Mystery Theatre is great, I sing the praises of Matt Wagner often enough and I definitely should look into the rest of Guy Davis's work, but the main thing about it to me is that it was my first contact with pulp in any of it's forms. Sandman was my first Pulp Hero. If nothing else I'll always appreciate the character for that.

[theggning]

Codsworth Is So Underrated, You Guys

ALTERNATE TITLE: Codsworth and the Totally Understated Mindbending Evolution of Artificial Consciousness

I find Codsworth is often the most underrated of the 16 companions in Fallout 4. Your faithful robot butler is among the very first you can recruit and an excellent early-game ally, but he has a few disadvantages in gameplay that mean he’s often sent back to Sanctuary before long. Codsworth is a mid-to-close range fighter only, cannot wear armor or be equipped with weapons. He cannot be healed by stimpak, which makes him a liability if you’re playing on Survival mode. He has no companion quest of his own, so unless you particularly enjoy him there’s not a compelling reason to keep him for a long time. He also becomes recruitable exactly 2 minutes after adorable puppy Best Boy Dogmeat, so he is often (understandably) replaced just as soon as he’s made available.

But there is this great, completely understated facet to Codsworth, so understated that the game does not draw attention to it in any way. And yet, it is a wonderful reflection of many of the themes of Fallout 4 and, I believe, a pretty strong indication of its thesis statement.

Now what in the hell am I talking about?

Like many sci-fi/fantasy universes, the Fallout series is home to many highly-advanced robots. Robots were commonplace before the Great War, and many have survived the bombs intact and in working order. Others have been built or modified by wastelanders to serve various tasks (Percy, Ada.) The most important thing to understand about robots, though, is though they may have vivid personalities programmed in, they are widely accepted to be objects. They are thought of the same way as an appliance, a machine built for a specific purpose and programmed to follow a strict set of protocols.

Many jokes revolve around the relatively rigid intelligence of robots. Pre-War, many were deployed in inappropriate jobs or designed haphazardly (Mister Handies acting as nurses in a hospital, “paramedic” Protectrons with massive deadly tasers for hands, military robots constantly going haywire and erupting in friendly fire.) Others continue to man businesses and play out daily tasks as they were programmed to do over 200 years ago. Most robots are incapable of understanding anything beyond their initial programming, and most pre-War robots are completely unaware that the Great War ever happened.

When the Sole Survivor reunites with Codsworth at the ruins of their home, it seems like he, too, doesn’t understand what’s going on. He talks about tending the (dead) garden, references the (ghoulified) neighbors, and generally acts like the chipper robot butler Sole left behind on their way to Vault 111.

But there is something slightly… off in Codsworth’s dialogue here. Though he acts like the war never happened, he also specifically mentions details that suggest it did:

Player Default: Codsworth! You're still... fully operational?          

Codsworth: {Defiant} Well of course, mum. You can thank the fine engineers at General Atomics for that! At least, you could have. Had they not been... vaporized.

A bit over 210 actually, mum. Give or take a little for the Earth's rotation and some minor dings to the ole' chronometer. That means you're two centuries late for dinner! Ha ha ha. Perhaps I can whip you up a snack? You must be famished.

You've no idea the desperation for human contact one develops over 200 years. {Upset, recalling bad memories of encountering raiders and scavengers. / Disgust} And when you do encounter them? Oh the cruelty! You're either... target practice or... spare parts!

Even stranger, Codsworth mentions details that are plainly made-up (or some kind of delusion):

Codsworth: It's been ages since we've had a proper family activity. Checkers. Or perhaps charades. Shaun does so love that game. Is the lad... with you...?   

Player Default: Codsworth... listen to me carefully... have you seen him? Have you seen Shaun?              

Codsworth: Why, sir had him last, remember? Perhaps he's gone to the Parker residence to arrange a play-date?

(Shaun is an infant. He is too young to play charades or to go to the neighbors for a play-date.)

So at once, Codsworth does and does not acknowledge the war. He does and does not seem to understand what’s happened, and he does and does not seem to follow Sole’s urgency regarding their spouse’s death and Shaun’s kidnapping.

And then, after a speech check, Codsworth finally snaps and breaks down sobbing in despair. Not only does he understand that the war happened, he has developed the ability to get depressed about it. Longing for human contact and with nothing else to do, he’s even developed coping mechanisms to help him try to deal with his loneliness and despair—futilely trying to do his chores and deluding himself into pretending everything is completely normal.

Wait a minute. Sobbing? Despair? Depression? Coping mechanisms and delusions? This Is all pretty sophisticated stuff to be programmed into a robot, and if you spend more time with Codsworth, the reality of what’s happened to him becomes apparent:

Codsworth has evolved beyond his programming. In his 210 lonely years of existence, he has developed emotional reactions and self-awareness far beyond that of most other robots, and, indeed, has basically evolved an artificial consciousness.

“Emergent intelligence” is the theoretical ability of an AI to eventually develop something resembling human thought processes, and it seems that our dear Codsworth has undergone this. Traveling with him, he displays many sophisticated thoughts and behaviors far beyond what most robots are shown to be capable of. He has memories of pre-War time and places, and understands how various locations have changed. He is capable of learning new information and forming opinions on it, gaining his own understanding of the people and factions in the Commonwealth. He can feel happiness, sorrow, fear, disgust. He can anticipate things, predict danger and imagine how people might respond to your actions. The mere he fact he has opinions and a moral code that he applies to you shows he has free will, something even other robot companions don’t (Ada has a personality, but absolutely does not care about your actions.)

He’s also smart enough to make many wry observational jokes, and to lay one hell of a sick burn on you:

{Joking - Found an old bowling alley. / Amused} Fancy a game, mum? Something tells me the bumpers are no longer available.

 Codsworth’s intelligence is even more sophisticated than that. He displays stunning self-awareness, frequently referencing the fact he is a robot and what that means. He is very proud of his background as General Atomics’ finest, and seems pleased with his robot nature and his lot in life. (Unlike Curie, I don’t think Codsworth would ever really want to gain a synth body. He seems quite happy as he is.)

Here he is making reference to still feeling the tug of his programming:

{Seeing an office with chairs arranged in a circle. / Neutral} I've the most incredible urge to rearrange those chairs in a more perfect circle.

Understanding when other robots are restricted by theirs:

A pity. It appears Deezer's programming is too severe to allow for normal conversation. Ah well.

And when they’re actually not:

Codsworth: Greetings, sir. Good to see another robot in town. That chef hat becomes you.

Takahashi: Nan-ni shimasho-ka?

Codsworth: Takahashi you say? I'm Codsworth, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

Takahashi: Nan-ni shimasho-ka?              

Codsworth: Is that so? Well, we both know RobCo is no General Atomics. It's not surprising it failed, shoddy work and all.  {Friendly - trying to cheer up another robot. / Friendly} Chin up, though. Never know when parts may turn up.

 And here’s Galaxy Brain Codsworth ruminating on his own state of being and contemplating his nature:

{Disappointed that he can't be 100% human sometimes. / Sad} It's unfortunate that I lack the proper design to consume liquids. Something about camaraderie over a few drinks is very inviting.            

I suppose if I had the hardware, I'd have the software as well. I'd hate to see how that'd affect my honesty and manner settings.

{Reconsidering what he thought was a good idea. / Thinking} Indeed. Perhaps I should rethink my initial desire.

Hilariously, Codsworth does not seem fully aware of how remarkable his intelligence is. He occasionally says things like “if I had feelings” and “if I could feel things,” indicating that in some ways he still believes he is only a robot and defines himself by what a robot is and does.

But as we can see, our humble robot butler has essentially evolved to become the smartest, most emotionally intelligent and person-like robot in the Commonwealth*, and potentially in the series.

([SIDE NOTE: Other FO4 robots nearing Codsworth’s level of consciousness and developed personality include Captain Ironsides, KLE-O, Whitechapel Charlie, and perhaps Takahashi. Curie is close, but also receives the unfair advantage of being uploaded into a synth body with a human brain. Jezebel also functions off of a human brain. Nick is not a robot, he’s a synth (though he does jokingly refer to himself as one) and also has the advantage of a human brain encoded on his processor.])

Also hilariously, the game basically does not acknowledge Codsworth’s impressive evolution. At all. There is absolutely no direct mention of it in the script. It is all left to ambient dialogue and the player’s own observations. And because so many people overlook Codsworth as a companion, they may not even realize exactly how unique his expanded consciousness is.

Now, you might call this total lack of mention a mistake, an oversight on Bethesda’s part, or that old chestnut “bad writing.” I don’t think it is. I think it’s a deliciously subtle little detail to include in a story about humanity, machines, artificial intelligence, and what makes a person.

Many of the themes of FO4 revolve around synths—distinctly not robots, but androids, artificially created beings with fully organic human bodies. Most of the storyline factions have strong beliefs about synths and the relative humanity thereof. The Institute believes that synths are objects, tools, machines no different from a robot who are only simulating their personalities through programming. The Brotherhood believes synths are monstrous abominations, a danger to humanity itself, technology run amok which needs to be destroyed. The Railroad believes they are people. Not humans, but people, built instead of born, free-thinking beings that deserve to be treated with respect and given rights.

Through quests, dialogue, notes, worldbuilding and other venues, players explore these questions. What makes someone a person? If your personality and memories can be rewritten or programmed, then who are you, really? Where do we draw the line between humans and machines, and how do we decide who belongs where?

Meanwhile, as the player contemplates the nature of personhood and the definition of intelligence, their robot butler quietly evolves into a fully-conscious person on his own, right beside them.

Codsworth is unquestionably a machine, but also unquestionably beyond the appliance he was built to be. Which to some philosophies and players should really beg a few other questions. If a robot can be considered a person, then what makes synths so different? And how many excuses do we have to make to pretend otherwise?

Ya boy Codsworth may not be flashy, or powerful, or kissable. He may not be the most glamorous companion around. But he is a good friend, a beloved member of the family, and above all else, a loyal butler—content to serve, quietly and humbly doing his job where some may never even notice him-- or the fact that he’s casually become his own person and sent generations of roboticists and philosophers spinning in their graves.