#Eclipses are always a challenge to characterize

[crabsnpersimmons]

So Sunny acts less happy like he used to because he works in a kitchen now? Or did he still act how he does now but in the daycare?

(a follow up to this post)

yeah, Sun’s always been like this. my initial idea was a Sun who knew from day one that he is a robot, that he’s built for a purpose, and whatever feelings he may think he experiences aren’t real.

so even in the daycare, he was stoic and serious, which balances out Moon’s emotional outbursts. so he and Moon make a very affective pair when they work together (although they do disagree often 😅)

[queen-scribbles]

Please, we all must hear more about "Brykar longfic(rip)"

The (rip) is mostly bc it's been sitting for so long and other things always grab me before I actually work on it. My poor babies.

That's the one about what Bry is up to while her sister Vica is busy being frozen in carbonite as The Outlander, which mainly involves the Eclipse Squad mess from Rishi transported to Hoth as an extra level of challenge(also bc she didn't GO to Rishi, Vica did), and then rescuing Jonas bc he was on Denon still when the Eternal Empire invaded. :))))

She's doing that part as a free agent, having resigned due to Saresh's overwhelming stupidity and selfish motives, working with the Dorne siblings and Fuse. Elara, at this point, is fired from Havoc but not working for Malcolm yet, Aleksei's the tech guy, and there is, of course, a prison break to get Fuse before they can even get to the Rescuing Her Fiancé part.

This is complicated by civil unrest, the fact few people who could help will trust them(bc the Dornes sound/are Imperial), aaaand the desertion of Koth a Zakuulan lieutenant who was supposed to be dealing with the Denon riots. The remaining Zakuulan authorities have cracked down even harder, just to make things INTERESTING.

I think I got stuck on A) Aleksei's characterization and what exactly a technical specialist is(going with The Computer Guy/Slicer) since he's not even in the Trooper's game much and B) how to bust Fuse out of prison, since he's in Republic custody so Bry and Co don't wanna hurt anyone getting him free, so it has to be a non-lethal prison break and I am very, very stuck on how to accomplish that.

[yellowaugustnights]

2 ep Nong Last

This is only the second episode, and the series is moving like a freight train at full speed, without stopping. Frankly speaking, I didn't have the strength to take a breath and collect my thoughts. There are a lot of thoughts again, and I can't sort everything out. I watch the entourage, the dialogues, the micro-expressions of the face, and, oh my god, I catch a universal buzz from this series.

I like the balance of power in the episodes: a bit of comedy, a bit of drama. Everything is balanced and measured. We cried a little, and then wiped our snot and went to laugh. I like it, I hope this balance will remain. The way the series started amused me so much. Mork remains himself, but at the same time annoys everyone in his path. With childlike spontaneity, he announces to Ramon that he dressed simply, as she said, said that he cooks at drunken parties, compared Day to an abandoned puppy, made Night disgusting coffee because he is not his servant, but Day's caretaker.

In the opening scene, everything is done in muted gray tones, showing a lot of sharp corners and rectangular shapes. We are shown a large aquarium in which Day lives alone most of the time, and this aquarium with muddy water (gray color) represents at first glance sterility (long corridors), but is filled with danger (sharp corners). I also drew attention to the joint photo of the brothers, warming my heart, and the words about the father of the family. It often happens that these words are just a statement of fact that does not affect the plot in any way, but in this case it seems that there will be a big story behind it. Perhaps the father brought Day into the sport, was his role model, and after he was gone in their life, it had a big impact on Day and the mother threw all her strength to ensure that the younger son did not feel the pain of separation, while Night was older, and, therefore, by according to her estimates, he would be able to cope with this on my own, alone, which, of course, is not always true (okay, time for fucked-up theories).

A wonderful scene in which Mork examines Day's room, trying to create a more accurate characterization of him. A room is almost always a reflection of our souls, and it will tell us even more about us than we do. It is especially well shown that this happens when Day is asleep and cannot somehow interfere with his observation by distracting or rearranging things. Day lives in a dirty, untidy aquarium (chaos is everywhere, clothes are scattered, packages of clean water that have not yet been pulled out of polyethylene), in the dark, but surrounded by his sunny past (many things significant to Day are next to the yellow wall). Mork is told that his task is to take care of Day and ensure his safety, and he does this with great diligence, cleaning his room (aquarium) from what can cause Day's injury, giving him in the future the main tool for dealing with sharp corners - slippers (a patch on the fish in the place where it should be be a pinky? Are you serious? oh fuck), who are the personification of Day himself - a goldfish with a short memory, but, unlike her, everything is fine with his memory and it hurts him from the memories of a cloudless past. By the way, after Mork cleaned up Day's room, brownish colors began to prevail more in the frame (the color of the sandy bottom), and even when gray was present, brown dominated him, eclipsing this color.

Try to get Day out of the room, they say to Mork and he decides to accept this challenge, under any pretexts pulling khun Nu first from his small aquarium (his room) to a larger aquarium (kitchen). Mork earns his salary very well and even does more than what he was told (no one initially talked about walking a goldfish).

He will be softer with me, says Mork Porjai with such a self-confident face that I just sat and nodded like a dummy, smiling. By the way, Mork's stupid courtship reminded me so much of Puen. In fact, I caught the most terrible PuenTalay's vibes in this episode that I had to stop many times to catch my breath. The Queen Vice Versa will spread her charming vibes in every series, believe me.

Well, Day will really become softer by the end of the episode, but for now he just closes the door under Mork's nose, and this scene is just a crown.

I also can't help but mention a couple of funny things related to the Mork, such as breaking flowers in a pot and quickly covering up tracks, throwing spit and cigarette butts from the balcony and of course demonstrating beautiful body parts. The angles here are, of course, magnificent. I've already told, but can Jimmy not lose weight and stay in this shape? He looks really great.

Also Aon. This guy is definitely my favorite. We don't know his background and what a difficult path he went through, accepting his blindness, but now this guy is an absolute chill guru who enjoys his life to the fullest. Girl, whoever it is, you should run with this wonderful guy! I can imagine how happy he will be for Day later when he and Mork go to Songkhla. I told you everything needs time, he'll tell him, and damn it, he'll be right. I like their cute dynamic with Day. And in general, Kun and Sea are similar, aren't they? Both have absolutely charming smiles.

Returning to the topic of Day's seclusion: none of his relatives bothered to hide the sharp corners of the house somehow. You can remove such furniture away, replace it with furniture with rounded corners or cover the corners with a paralon. But the whole house is absolutely not ready for a blind person to live in it, even though a year has passed. No one except Mork thought that even ordinary slippers could make Day's life easier, and after all, he has known him for literally three days. I don't think the technical mindset plays any role here. My boy earns his money well. But at the same time, the family took care to put the breaking dishes on the upper shelves so that Day would not accidentally get hurt, but in his case, this is another reason for Day to feel invisible, because without his knowledge, the shelves were rearranged, and he was not informed, since "I invisible."

Mork already feels responsible for Day. He tries to make it better and more comfortable to the best of his abilities and abilities. He couldn't help his sister when she needed it so much, but now he doesn't want to fuck up and have all the efforts go to the ass. The moment with their hands, the way he felt despair in Day's words and this prompted him to think that he could do something bad to himself, and that he was obliged to prevent it - wow, I just held my breath at that moment, afraid to even squeak. The guilt over his sister's death is much stronger and clearer than he is trying to show in reality. He says it's her fault, while in his eyes there is pain from his own helplessness and the fact that he missed everything. Day wouldn't have been able to blame him for his fear if he had known why Mork had burst in on him at that moment.

Everyone tells Mork that he doesn't understand, and damn it, he's the one who really made an effort to somehow get closer to understanding what Day is feeling right now. Hardly anyone else has done this for Day. My boy Mork, he's so incredible. And, damn it, I'm not going to say here that he earns his money well (I've always said it as a joke, if anything). You are unlikely to do this even for a lot of money. To get into the soul of a guy, trying to understand what he feels, how he feels in the dark among sharp corners, with what trepidation he treats a small fish (this is a gift from Night, God, I love these brothers so much, even if they are still fucked up in their relationship, I will protect you guys) - he did this is because he wanted to, not because "this is an easy job for which money is paid." No one will blindfold in a public place where every dog knows you, because you go there every day, unless you are really curious and want to know about the feelings of another person. The strongest interest has already been from the second episode (he still did not overtake Puen), and then, apparently, these two will catch a real gay panic. The tension in the fitting room is already felt during these three seconds of the promo, what will happen next, uh?

And of course, this:

I can talk for a long time about parallels, about the Little Prince, but it will be so long that I will most likely go crazy before I finish. I also missed a lot of things, for example, Day's panic attack, but only because I no longer know how to denounce my words so that it was at least a little structured, because I had a lot of emotions when I watched it. But, my God, all the work is done with such love, so meticulously, that I admire the whole crew. But also, fuck, why isn't anyone watching this? What's the use of trends if there are no episode views on YouTube? I want to take everyone by the scruff of the neck and put them in front of the TV until they realize that this is a real movie. Why does Nong Last have as many views as a passing series that no one expected? Oh, it's terrible, do people really have no taste or just no one wants to turn on their brains a little to think? In any case, I hope for word of mouth, because such series appear once a year at best and it's just blasphemous to miss it.

[lokislittlesigyn]

Wake Me - Loki x Reader [Oneshot]

[My masterlist, where this and my other fics can be found]

Pairing: Loki / gender neutral reader

Warnings: Angst. But fear not, for fluff awaits!

Author’s Note: I have legitimately no idea if I’ll write more Loki x Reader; I never intended to write any because I don’t know the reader so I can’t characterize the reader but then I had a headcanon.. And then I had an idea...

And then I wrote this and I thought “hmm, I should challenge myself to do a New Thing?” and then this happened. Blame Loki, maybe? He seems to be behind a lot of this.

Is there any demand for a taglist of.. Possible future Loki x Readers? I dunno? Let me know.

This fic is loosely based off a song by the same name, which is also one of my favorite songs! Enjoy. <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn’t notice it at first.

Not for the first few days… Weeks? You weren’t sure how long it had been happening. How long Loki had been leaving your bed in the middle of the night.

Your apartment was a decent size - more than decent, considering the average size of a New York City apartment. Being a close friend and employee of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts (was it Stark now?) had its perks. The apartment had a bedroom, a bathroom across the short hall, a living room which doubled as your workspace, and a good-sized kitchen. Even had a washer and dryer at the end of the hall, tucked neatly into a little closet that also held a few of your coats. As an added luxury, there was a small - very small - balcony off the living room. Hardly big enough to stand on, it was nevertheless a wonderful spot to sit and watch the sun set over the city. You loved living there, in that cozy space you’d made your own, and eventually welcomed Loki into. 

Loki. Not exactly someone you’d intended to end up with. Then again, who intends to fall in love with a god?

Who intends to fall in love at all?

You’d met through friends of friends, and that was about the only mundane thing about your relationship. Said friends of friends were the Avengers for crying out loud, and the moment you saw Thor in person you nearly froze from shock. The moment you saw his brother, however, your heart practically leapt out of your chest and into the hand Loki reluctantly extended, per his brother’s direction.

You took his hand in your own, trying not to tremble as you shook it. You gave your name. He gave his. You parted ways. A mundane interaction, right?

But again, few things about your relationship were mundane.

You would’ve written it off as a simple, regular greeting if Loki hadn’t found you later as you skulked along the edges of Tony’s huge party. You knew the hosts, of course, and some of the other guests - but everything was so big and frightening and new you hardly knew what to do with yourself. 

How were you, a regular human, supposed to deal with all… That? Heroic wasn’t a word you’d really use to describe yourself. Let alone super-heroic - that title was reserved for the incredible individuals around you, whose personalities and achievements eclipsed your own. You mulled over the thought, drink still clutched firmly in hand, but untouched.

And that was when Loki commented on the fact you looked “nearly as miserable as he felt.” You couldn’t help but blush a little and laugh at the comment. You quipped something back - something about misery loving company, and Loki’s eyebrows raised. His expression gave little else away, though. It hardly ever did.

It wasn’t until many months after the party, after you and Loki had gotten to know each other better and started dating, that he whispered the truth to you: the idea that anyone would be gladder with him around than with him gone, was astonishing to him. He could hardly believe it.

But when it came to you? He believed you.

You had no reason to lie to him. No need to impress him, or earn his favor, or act cordially for fear of an Asgardian royal. You were safe at that party, and you were safe when you visited him at the Avengers compound - you had no reasonable ulterior motives. Nothing to hide.

And, likewise, he had no reason to actively hide things from you, now that you lived together and you knew about his past, about his parentage.

Or, you thought he had no reason to hide things from you…

So why was he leaving you at night?

The first night you truly noticed it was on a dark, cool night of spring. 

You’d left the bedroom window open while you fell asleep, and upon waking up thought to yourself, still under a veil of sleepiness, that you should probably get up and close it. But as your eyes opened and adjusted to the dark, you noticed two things.

First, the window was closed, the curtains completely drawn. 

Second, the place next to you, where Loki usually lie, was empty. Completely empty, the bed covers pushed toward you to help keep you warm. Still half-asleep, your hand smoothed over the sheets to his spot - cold. He’d been gone a while. 

You squinted to see through the crack in your bedroom door, but couldn’t make out if the bathroom light was on. Maybe he’s in there.. You shrugged to yourself, flipping back over and nuzzling into your pillow. You’d meant to stay awake until he returned, just to be sure he was okay, but sleep quickly washed over you again.

When you woke up the next morning, you realized you definitely should’ve been able to see if the bathroom light was on, had it been on, so Loki couldn’t have been in there. He was never one for midnight snacking, as far as you could tell, so he probably wasn’t in the kitchen.

The more you thought about it, the more it bothered you. You tried to brush it aside - after all, Loki was a very private person, slow to trust or to show much emotion. He was vulnerable with few people... Maybe only one person - you. The trust between you had been hard-won, and you loved every new piece of himself he showed you. 

He also enjoyed quiet time, often spent with books. Reading, writing notes, sometimes even napping in the safety of your apartment, his forgotten book on his chest as he lie draped across the couch, his lanky limbs hanging off the edges. You really needed a bigger couch.

Yes, you assured yourself. Loki just needed time alone every now and then. Everyone did, right? 

You tried to ignore it, you truly did. 

But later, it happened again. 

You woke up to an empty bed, a dark room, and the door pulled to. This time you could swear you saw a light coming from the other room, so this time you figured he was in the bathroom and once again you succumbed to sleep.

~~~~

The morning after, you woke up to your regular routine: Get up, get dressed, make coffee for two, eat some sort of breakfast, and get to work. Work didn’t exactly have a set location - that close friendship with the Starks stemmed from having worked with Pepper for years, and now since you worked for Stark Industries, you enjoyed several perks. 

Sometimes Pepper brought you in on-site, other times (more often than not, considering the fact you had an ex-villain alien god to worry about… and not everyone was convinced about the ex part) you simply received work on your secure Stark-tech computer and worked remotely. From home, from a cafe, even from the Avengers compound when you visited. (You had a room there, too - as did Loki. Courtesy of Tony.)

So as you sat with your laptop in front of you on your desk, the window cracked to let some air in, you started the day. Coffee in hand, a half-eaten croissant next to you.

Loki stood next to you, sipping his own coffee. 

He liked to watch you work. Liked to distract you from work too - he wasn’t the god of mischief for nothing.

“Sleep well?” He broke the silence first.

You took another bite of breakfast. “Yeah. You sleep okay?”

He shifted his weight. “Fine.”

“You sure?”

His hand touched your shoulder, as if to reassure you. “Just fine. How long are you working today?” His fingers smoothed their way from your shoulder to your clavicle and back - slowly, rhythmically. 

“I literally just got started,” you muttered a soft laugh, and he chuckled in turn.

“But I like spending time with you.”

“Well I like spending time with you, too. But work is important.”

“Would it be less important if I gave Stark something better to worry about than..” Loki leaned over, scrutinizing the screen, “Interview paperwork?”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Loki, do not attack my boss, please.”

“I said nothing about attacking him.”

“Loki.”

“Yes, love?” He smiled down at you. You huffed - he had no right to be this charming, nor this cute - but that worry was still gnawing at you. Why had he left last night? 

“Are you sure you slept okay?”

He paused a moment, then smiled - but it seemed forced. “Yes. I slept just fine - do you need to talk about something..?”

“You left.. In the middle of the night, I woke up and you were gone.”

He swallowed. “I hadn’t realized you were awake - forgive me.” His hand slid down your shoulder, to your arm - and then away. “It was just a bit of restlessness, darling, you mustn’t worry.” He kissed the top of your head, then straightening up, raised his coffee mug to his lips again. “I’ll leave you to that.. Riveting work of yours… Let me know if you ever need a welcome distraction.”

“You’re always welcome,” you smirked slightly. You weren’t convinced he was only restless but.. Maybe he was. Who knew? Loki was a mystery to many. You’d try to believe him, at least.

“Am I?” He grinned. “Then I’ll be sure to distract you often.” With a small wink, he turned and left.

~~~~

The next time you noticed it, it seemed later in the night. And this time, you heard something too. Crying. Talking - like a whisper, barely audible past the soft sobs.

The door was cracked again, but had swung a bit more open than the times before. That must be the source of the sound...

Resolved to figure out what was going on, you slid out of bed. Tried to stay quiet as you walked to the door and peered out.

There was faint light coming from the living room. A silhouette on the wall showed Loki’s position - in front of the balcony, the street lights casting his shadow. You inched down the hallway, stopping just before you reached the living room.

“...Mother, you would. I just know it. (Y/N) is endlessly beautiful, and intelligent, and… and kind…” Loki was sitting in the floor, his back to you. Dressed in the same clothes he usually wore to bed - loose pants and a comfortable green shirt. His long black hair was messy, and his body shook with sobs.

The door to the balcony was open, allowing a cool night breeze to drift in. An occasional car drove by, or plane flew overhead, but Loki was focused on the stars.

“Just like you. But I, I don’t.. I don’t deserve it. Any of it-” his voice cracked, “And I miss you.”

Your heart broke. You made your way across the living room, quietly, carefully. 

“I miss you every day,” Loki continued, shaky hands brushing hair back from his face, then gripping it in agony. “I-I wish we could speak, we could.. See each other.. That you could see me - see us, but... You’re not here.”

“Loki?” you muttered, and he inhaled sharply, turning around. 

Now you could clearly see the tears streaming down his face. His mouth was slightly open, but he closed it, his lips pressed into a thin line. 

“I- ... Darling, you shouldn’t be up at this hour,” He stood, blinking away his tears. “Go back to bed.”

You stood your ground, but tried to pick your words carefully. He looked so vulnerable, standing there in the dark, still trying to steady himself.

“No, something’s clearly wrong. Loki... How long has this been going on?”

“It doesn’t matter..”

“Yes it does.” You moved closer. He twitched - but let you approach, let you reach up to brush a tear off his cheek. More fell as he pressed his face against your palm, relishing the touch. His brows pressed together, he looked as though he could break at any time.

“Weeks,” he whispered.

“Oh, Loki..” You embraced him. He welcomed it, his arms wrapping around you, clutching you close to his shaking chest. He moved to lower himself and you followed, the both of you slowly sitting on the ground, you tucked against him, his body trembling with sobs.

Tears pricked in the corners of your eyes. What had this long life done to him?

How many nights had he cried alone?

It was several minutes before either of you spoke again. Loki calmed, his nose finding a comfortable place nestled against your hair, and his breath eventually steadied. His grip loosened. The crying slowed.

“I-I’m sorry.. I’m sorry I left you,” He gulped. “This is the only way I can talk to her anymore.”

You pulled away to see his face. Tilted your head. “Her..?”

Loki’s eyes met yours. “Frigga. My mother. She..” He couldn’t bring himself to say the next word.

“I remember.” You nodded slowly.

He’d told you a while ago that his mother had died, after Thor had brought up their parents. But he never said how. 

Loki clenched his jaw. “It… It was my fault, it was all my fault-” He settled into another bout of crying.

“Loki, love - that can’t be true. I-I don’t know everything about your life,” You cupped his face, bringing him to look at you. He sniffed, swallowing again. “I don’t. I wasn’t there for all of it. But I know you. And I know you would never, ever harm your mother.”

“But I did, I did- that monster, I told it how to escape - I told it how to reach her. And it did, and she-” He stopped himself, biting the inside of his cheek. His breath grew shaky again as he forced himself to speak. “There was a funeral. I wasn’t allowed to attend - Odin would never allow that. He barely wanted me alive in the first place,” he hissed, his face contorted with rage for a moment, before relaxing again. “I found out after. By then her body had returned to the stars..” Loki turned to the outside again.

Moonlight graced his skin, highlighting the tears still glistening on his cheeks. His eyes searched the heavens, as though begging for a sign - something real, something palpable, something to tell him she was out there. 

“Loki, I’m.. I’m so sorry. But it’s not your fault. It’s not.” You spoke as gently yet firmly as you could. Giving a monster - whatever it was - directions (you figured it was to spite the Asgardians who imprisoned him) didn’t equate to murder. He hadn’t intended it to play out that way, after all. But you could understand the guilt behind it.. And you hated the fact he’d carried that burden alone.

He stayed quiet. Pulled you closer, his chin on your shoulder, his eyes still trained on the sky. 

“I wish she could meet you.” he confessed, his head leaning against your own. His arms still firm around you, his hands finding yours - your fingers intertwined. “She’d love you.”

“I’d like to meet her, too. But maybe she can see us now.” You moved closer to him, your thumb stroking his hand. You felt Loki smile next to you - it was small, and fragile, but it was there.

“Perhaps she can,” he murmured. 

“Maybe she can see how happy you are - you’re happy, aren’t you?” You glanced at him. He kissed your temple, staying cuddled up against you. 

“Happier than ever. I.. Thank you, love. Thank you for finding me. I hadn’t the heart to, to ask you to join me… I’d hate to wake you.”

“Loki, you’re important to me. I love you, remember?” You turned, facing him fully, your back to the open door. “Can you promise me something?”

His brow furrowed slightly, but he seemed willing to listen, watching you intently.

“Promise me, if you’re lonely, wake me.”

Tears glistened in his eyes again. He nodded, slowly, and managed a soft smile.

“Yes, my love,” he murmured. “I promise.”

[elminx]

Energy Update: Taurus new moon 5/11/21

Tomorrow afternoon we are experiencing a new moon at 21° - both our Sun and Moon will be conjunct in Taurus, square to Jupiter in Aquarius, trine to newly retrograded Pluto in Capricorn, and sextile to Neptune in Pisces. As with most of our recent lunar events - there is a lot of potential in this energy but also a great deal of tension.

The Taurus new moon is characterized by planting seeds and tending spring growth - it is always a time of renewal and reconnection with our earth energy after the long winter slumber. It cannot be removed from the context of this past year though or even from the general energy of 2021 as a whole so I suspect this energy may include more weeding the garden - we are still in a time of removal and reevaluation.

Though this new moon in Taurus is not an eclipse - its sister full moon in Scorpio come November will be. This is significant - these six months will be a sneak peek into the coming eclipse cycle that will begin in earnest when the lunar nodes shift to the Taurus-Scorpio axis early in January of next year. We are warned (all year really) to get our affairs in order - to come into alignment with our true selves.

This is echoed in the aspects the new moon is making. Most notably, the Sun and Moon are squaring off with Jupiter in Aquarius. We've been experiencing squares between Taurus and Aquarius all year - Uranus in Taurus and Saturn in Aquarius will make a total of three exact squares this year but come close to squaring each other five total times. We are in a period of expansion and contraction - things need to shift and move - this energy has been unsettled and will remain unsettled likely until the final square clears in December. Taurus is a sign that is slow to change and often most concerned with comfort while Aquarius wants to keep things weird. Aquarius types will often change for change's sake alone (though they are also a fixed sign so they can get hung up in what they won't change every bit as much as Taurus). Expect things early this week to feel uncomfortable and notice what feels out of place. It may be a sign that something needs to get shifted or pruned from your life entirely. This is supported by the trine to retrograded Pluto in Capricorn. Pluto is the grim reaper of the planets - he catalyzes deep transformative change that can often feel akin to death. During the Pluto retrograde cycle, long-standing issues come up for release - things related to childhood traumas, long-standing relationship problems, addictions, and mental illness. During his journey through Capricorn, the energy is focused on broken institutions - governments, business arrangements - even marriage which is a signed contract (Capricorn rules contracts). We are being shown what doesn't work anymore (and often what has never worked). If you are stuck in a situation where you are trying to make something work that really doesn't, it may feel really challenging during this time. You are being asked to reevaluate whether the things you hold in your life work for you and for all other people involved. We're veering away from Aries energy now - the ego stories and selfishness of Aries season has passed - Taurus is all about building something that will last. Taurus is earthy and grounded energy - it has no time for false narratives or passive aggression. Taurus natives tend to tell it like it is and this new moon will be no exception - there are no room left for the lies. That thing that you've been to struggling to make work for years? It's time to put that shit down. If it hasn't worked by now, it was never meant for you. That's the thing about Taurus, from the outside, it can seem like Tauruses hold on to everything. They are slow to forgive. They tend to like possessions. But Taurus, being ruled by Venus, is very concerned with value. You won't find a Taurus keeping a friend around who annoys them, or trying endlessly at a failed marriage - if it doesn't have value, a Taurus is willing to give it up and make space for something that does. This is, I think, one of the reasons that strong Taurus natives often are among the more content signs in the zodiac. As we begin our shift of the nodal axis point from Gemini-Sag to Taurus-Scorpio, this idea of value is going to come more deeply into focus. This new moon will be our first "ping" of this energy that is to come. Things to watch out for during this week are issues around control - Taurus can tend towards control freak tendencies which may be amplified by our great expander (Jupiter) but retrograded Pluto is not having anything to do with it. Lean into Taurus' natural inclination towards having good boundaries and remember that other people (even YOUR others) have the right to make their own decisions. Stay in your own lane. I know - I've been repeating that over and over again. It needs repeating. If you tell somebody else what to do with week, expect them to blow up in your face - don't say that I didn't warn you. The way that you can support yourself through this energy is through some good old-fashioned self-indulgence. Treat yo self to a new outfit or the more expensive takeout. If you feel stuck or too grounded, you can counter this energy by reaching towards Taurus's opposite

sign Scorpio: spend some time around water or deep in mediation, both Scorpio favorite activities. This won't pack the punch of a full moon but we are in eclipse season so what happens today, tomorrow, and Wednesday is likely to be highly significant. If something comes up for you - write it down for later perusal. You may not understand the full import of what is happening right now but it may become more clear as we get closer to our eclipses.

Do you like my work? Please consider supporting me by Buying Me A Ko-Fi.

[bellaslilpapercut]

Eclipse reread part 2! This is gonna cover a lot of chapters because I forgot to include stuff from chapters 4, 5, and 6 in part 1 (in my defense your honor, this book is very grating to read). Awayyy we go:

1. so chapters 4-6 really could have been one chapter tbh since the plot is: Bella ditches work at Newton’s Outfitters to hang with Jake and then writes some graduation invites with Angela. She pushes her rusty old behemoth as fast as it can go through driving rain but then hangs outside with Jake the whole time so I don’t really know where the rain went. She also manages to hear Jake gasp through her closed car door! Super sonic! Anyway, Bella insists that Edward is a good guy, Jake makes Bella hold his hand, Jake explains imprinting (yuck we can skip that), and then Edward drives threateningly past Bella while she’s on her way to Angela’s house. Angela reminds Bella that, at his core, Edward is a teen boy who is Totally Jealous of how Ripped and Sexy her 16 year old best friend is. Then Alice kidnaps Bella. Fun times!

2. During the imprinting convo it becomes very apparent that Meyer thinks the worst thing that can happen to a girl is getting broken up with. Somehow Leah got the “worst end” of the Sam/Emily/Leah fiasco despite Sam turning into a “monster” and Emily getting literally mauled in the face. What’s worse is later in the book, during the “Legends” chapter, when Bella wonders if Leah thinks Emily’s scars are a form of “justice.” Yea, Bella, that’s justice. 

3. I love this Rosalie quote but hate the entirety of they way meyer writes her story. Others have mentioned it before but Meyer writes Rose's dialogue there as if Rose is an author and not like...a person telling a story. An easy fix would be to format Rosalie's story "flash back" style rather than have her narrate all the way through. Then you can include all the superfluous details of exactly what everyone's voice sounded like and all the excessive dialogue tags you want.

I also Violently Abhor this quote here:

Yea, meyer, the Hot Girl hates your self-insert because her stupid ass brother didn't have the hots for her. It just reads like weird middle school revenge fantasy "I only hated you because you were so Special!!!" Sure, sure. Also "all those females!" People don't talk like that @stephanie

4. I do love the scene when Bella “escapes” from Alice with Jake (I don’t know why i put escape in quotes, Alice could definitely murk Bella) but then that whole adventure ends with Jake telling Bella he’d rather she die than turn into a vampire. And yeah, fair buddy, but also you’ve known Bella for a long time. This should not be a surprise to you at all even a little bit. a) she mentioned it before, b) you knew she would never get over Edward even if your plan in NM had worked, and c) you’ve known that she’s fully obsessed with the Cullen’s since you started hanging out with her again. The last time you guys hung out she went on an impassioned rampage about how lovely and good and fantastic Edward is (footage not found) I really don’t know why you’re surprised that this hard-headed girl is prepared to commit to vampirism for him. She is not normal lmfao.

5. The legends chapter. Oh boy. Stephanie, Meyer, Smeyer. Honestly it might have been less offensive if she had just made up a whole new tribe to give these backstories to, for all that they have in common with real Quileute legends but actually that would still be offensive and terrible anyway. I don’t know how to describe this adequately but if you’ve ever seen G.I. Joe’s portrayal of indigenous people that’s exactly what meyer made Old Quil and Billy’s dialogue sound like. Just absolutely dripping with Mystical Native/ Magical Native trope from the content to the tone. https://mthg.org/ Because it can’t be plugged enough.  

6. The legends chapter ends with this Wuthering Heights quote:

I have no qualms with it's inclusion, if you really want to push the Edward is Heathcliff and Bella is Cathy agenda, I don't believe it but fine, whatever. But those last two paragraphs are such a dumb way to end a chapter. Every chapter ending should make the reader want to turn the page: this makes me want to shut the book (actually I did take a long break after this lmfao). Anyway, just end the quote on "drank his blood," bold those three words, and end the chapter there. Don't go back and say "the three words that stood out were... Anyway it could have fallen to any page I believe in coincidence teehee!!" That's just annoying.

7. Okay guys I hate to say it but Edward does get a lil bit of ~character growth after the first few chapters. He comes home after having Bella kidnapped (she decides not to be angry, surprise surprise) and is all "so I've been thinking about it and you're right my Beloved Angel Face or whatever, please hang out with Jacob but also wear a helmet on your motorcycle my Beloved Dumb Idiot or whatever" (paraphrase). And he also says this in chapter 12:

Which is like, man I hate when I agree with Edward but I agree with Edward here. Now I know from MS that he only wants Bella to stay human because he's creating an Unfolding Drama in his head but this bit of dialogue is really sweet. And it's funny that he thought Bella didn't want to marry him because she just wanted to use him for immortality but it's also a Dark Reminder that he's literally only romantic with her because he can't read her mind and can't tell that she's just as obsessed with his looks as the other Teen Girls TM.

8. uuuh Jasper’s Backstory Time. This is so infuriating to read for so many reasons. So we know that smeyer got Jasper’s name from a confederate memorial/ listing (from a New Moon Q&A but the link isn’t secure so I can’t share) so I know that his backstory was always meant to be Confederate Soldier which makes everything else about his characterization just baffling. Again, he was the only Cullen that was genuinely kind to Bella besides Carlisle for the entire first book and he’s still incredibly kind during Eclipse (which is another issue I have though because no one mentions again that Jasper tried to eat Bella and they stand close to each other and hang out and Bella’s never like “this is scary, this dude tried to kill me” but i digress). The point is: smeyer knew he was going to be a confederate from book 1. She never addresses that this was bad, she never has Jasper mention that he regrets his role in the war, he is the only Cullen that’s actually capable of empathizing with humans anymore (Carlisle cares but I would not categorize him as empathetic), it just... None of these pieces fit together. This is a fraught and bloody history that smeyer throws in with no thought to how it might alienate black readers (though tbh she constantly emphasizes “white beauty” throughout the series so I doubt she cares) and the editors don’t question it either. No one, at any point in time, said “Hey, steph, you know confederates fought for slavery, right?” Every black american deserves reparations. White women and men who glorify the civil war should be the first to pay up. 

9. I’m gonna jump back to chapters 9 & 10 here (target & scent, respectively) to say: no tension is being effectively built. I get it, someone stole your clothes. You’re annoyed because you have nothing to wear and Victoria is scary. But where is she? Where is the volturi? Move it along, please! This is one of the challenges of 1st person narrative because the author is stuck in the eyes of, usually, the person who knows the least. Meyer is not a talented enough author to make this interesting. Not to bring up THG again but Suzanne Collins really knew how to work 1st person. Everything that Katniss asserts with certainty throughout the series gets either confirmed or denied by the narrative, keeping it interesting. She assumes the worst of the people around her so we’re pleasantly surprised when people violate those assumptions. We’re kept on edge by how little Katniss knows and SC never gifts Katniss with more knowledge than she could be expected to have. Bella is constantly gifted with knowledge and her assumptions are rarely proven wrong. You can dig into the canon a little bit more, read the lexicon and the guide, and find all the examples of Bella being unreliable or making wrong assumptions. But within the narrative she is rarely incorrect. She doesn’t get opportunities to grow out of her false assumptions (while Edward does, at least in Eclipse). So to keep the Victoria debacle interesting, smeyer has to plant seeds like- during these two chapters- Bella thinking of Laurent and Victoria while the cullens discuss who could have been in Bella’s room. That just doesn’t cut it for me. 

This is hella long and I’m only halfway through the book. I probably should split the second half into two parts as well but based on how talented smeyer is at stretching out the mundane, especially just before the climax, I probably wont need to. 

[unculturedmamoswine]

I just finished rereading Tortall and Other Lands, and made a totally subjective ranking of the stories. I posted it on reddit but I figured, what the hell, may was well post here too. If i could put it under a cut I would but sadly I am on mobile.

11) Time of Proving

It's good and all; I especially like the concept that the protag, Arimu, has to live alone and map new lands for a year to show her value to her people in order to lead them. But I think I like that bit of worldbuilding more than the actual plot. Though I do think it's pretty cute that Arimu comes up with excuses to keep helping Sunflower. An enjoyable story that's just eclipsed by the greatness of much of the rest of the book.

10) Plain Magic

I like this story. I like the thread magic especially. However, I don't think it really shows us anything new from Tammy if that makes sense. The thread magic, the ignorant folks doing stupid things, the cool stranger whisking away a gifted protagonist to a new life, it's all familiar ground for Tammy fans.

9) Lost

It's hard to put this story so low on the list. It has a lot of qualities to love, but much like Plain Magic it seems like it does mostly what we've seen from other Tammy content. Adria is a girl good at math, which isn't that valuable a thing in her society. But people around her recognize that and take her away to a better place for her, Tortall of course. And we get the darkings, which, cute as they are, seem kinda.. OP. They were OP in Aly's books, too. Ah well, despite my complaints it's still really cool and a fun story. And I love the way it shows the effects of years of abuse and how it makes you feel small. The way Adria's father uses fear to control her whole family, and the way Adria gets away from him by showing her courage, those are important things. I feel sure someone out there was helped by this story, you know?

8) Elder Brother

When I did my ranking, I was baffled that this story was so far down. I really like this story. That's the trouble with ranking stuff you really like, I guess. Fadala is a cool character, Qiom is an even cooler one, and I love reading about Qiom struggling to live his new, more confusing life. Reading about him weeping over his last apples is somehow really sad? And it's very cool to read about a totally different part of the world in the Tortall universe.

7) Huntress

It's very cool to read a modern-day story by Tammy! I love the merging of modern times and the fantasy elements of our usual Tammy stories. It's interesting to see how Corey (I don't think we learn her first name?) isn't devout, and arguably isn't even a believer, but the Goddess still comes to her aid anyway. I suppose it's out of respect for her family. I love the touch of the Goddess wearing modern day running gear. But my favorite thing has gotta be the total utter batshit crazy Pride. What completely insane villains. It's very Tammy to cast the murdering freaks as a bunch of privileged rich douchebags who think they can do whatever they want if they prey on the vulnerable and those that society has deemed as valueless. Golly, does that remind you of anything? It's nice that this story takes a fairly strong 'murder is bad' stance, when even in real life plenty of people are ok with rapists and drug dealers getting murdered. And I like that Tammy shows, through the Lions' threats to rape Corey, that they clearly aren't killing 'bad' people in order to be good guys, but just so they can get away with it easier. Though you could argue that the Goddess killing all the kids somewhat undercuts the 'no murder' message...

6) Testing

Admittedly I probably wouldn't like this one as much as I do if it weren't for the context of it being a semi-autobiographical account of Tammy around the time she rewrote Alanna's books as books for teens. That being said, it's a sweet story that looks at how vulnerable kids can come to trust an adult in lives that have been tumultuous and hard. It's honestly such a feel-good yet realistic tale.

5) Student of Ostriches

I think this one appeals to the kid in me. I was always so enchanted by African animals as a kid and that never really went away. Kylaia teaching herself to fight and run using the animals of her home as inspiration is just unbearably cool to me haha. Though it is much the same as I've said about Plain Magic and Lost in that it's well-trod ground for Tammy, Student of Ostriches really works for me. And it's always nice to have a peek into parts of the Tortall-verse we don't often see.

4) Mimic

I think Mimic sticks in my head more than any other story in Tortall and Other Lands. Ri, Mimic, Grandpa, even the dogs and the crow are all great characters. The beautiful setting, with the great plain and the storms, the dragons, the compact between the village and birds, it's all so memorable. I love that it's about choosing to grow up, and how you can't go back but it's worthwhile and necessary.

3) The Dragon's Tale

Call me basic, but I love dragons! It's so nice to see a story about Kitten, so great to see things from her point of view. Not being able to speak for sixteen years sounds like a freaking nightmare, but she handles it pretty well, I'd say. I like that she clearly thinks of Daine and Numair as her parents, and she adores her bestie Spots, it's just so cute! They really love each other, and I will always be a sucker for stories about people who love each other. But it's not just cute, there's some great meat here in the form of new characters like Afra, Uday, and Kawit and, best of all for me, worldbuilding! I really like when we see glimpses of the Tortall universe that we could never have imagined, as with Beka's unusual wild-adjacent magic. Here we get to see Kawit and learn that she's another example of an immortal that humans overlooked when locking them away four hundred years ago (and we get to see more of Tammy's love of opals lol). I like the subtle implication that opal dragons may be almost a link between classic dragons and basilisks, what with the beaded skin and long long tails. We learn more about Kawit's unusual magic. We get an explicit confirmation of the fact that multiple colors of Gift= more powerful Gift. This whole story is just crammed full of fascinating Tortall content with a soft, gooey center.

2) Nawat

This story is heavy, which is why I like it. I enjoy it when non-human characters are actually characterized as being fundamentally different from humans. It's challenging for the reader and the author to connect with a guy who is considering killing his kid, but I think Tammy succeeds here. It's hard to watch Nawat struggle with the different parts of his life coming together, and sad to see him feeling like his heritage is slipping away. It's nice to see that he really will be able to teach his kids about their own crow heritage when Ochobai grows her first quill. It's also fun to see Aly through his eyes.

1) The Hidden Girl

This story is so good that it makes Elder Brother better just by existing. It's really cool to have Fadala and Teky exploring different attitudes with regard to their culture. While Fadala has an almost Alanna-esque rejection of what her society sees as feminine, we also get to see Teky appreciate what powers women in her society are afforded, and also see her work to change some of the things she sees as wrong. While Fadala isn't willing to play by her people's rules and elects to leave them behind, Teky wants something better for everyone in her homeland. Neither of these attitudes is wrong, they're just different reactions to institutionalized inequality. Like Elder Brother, The Hidden Girl shows us new and fascinating Tortall content in the form of the more monotheistic culture on the far side of the world, which is very cool. We've never really seen an oracle before, and it's a cool new 'badass girl' archetype to add to the Tortall roster. It's all just wonderful, knowing women are changing things all over the world in this verse.

[mikami]

Can you do an analysis of Light in part II

It took me a bit, but yes, absolutely! First, I’ll take this spot to promote casuistor’s early canon Light and Yotsuba Arc Light analyses. I absolutely concur with what is said in them and for a full picture of Light, they’re recommended reading. I can’t claim to know if Casuistor would fully agree with what I have to say about Arc 2 Light now, but I can at least hope that this patches together to a coherent characterization, haha.

Eclipse - An Analysis of 23 year old Light Yagami.

Light in after the timeskip is a little tricky because we don’t get to see a lot of him at his ‘status quo’. Very early on Sayu gets kidnapped and from then on we largely see Light in stress situations which is only minorly conductive to figuring out how he changed at baseline between ages 18 and 23. I will still attempt to do this and establish where life brought him in those five years first of all.

First off, he finished his undergraduate college education. This is a 4 year program, so from spring 2005 to spring 2009, this is part of what keeps Light busy. The other is his two jobs as Kira and as L, each of which must have eaten up a good amount of his time. And yet, Light did at least a minimum of socializing as well:

In the first arc, Light and Takada date for exactly two days and knew each other for maybe a month. There isn’t any space for them to be having these in-depth conversations here - it makes much more sense that Light smoothed things over between them after returning from confinement. It’s not like him to leave a blemish like him cheating on and then ghosting Takada stand uncorrected. It appears they became friends afterwards and only fully lost contact when Takada graduated, around a year before Light did (since she didn’t miss a year due to being a Kira suspect)…. This just goes to establish that during the majority of the time-skip, Light absolutely does keep up his charming good boy public image.

He also keeps Misa reasonably happy - though he does not show her any overt affections, he doesn’t neglect her to a degree she’s uncomfortable with and it’s canon that they are sexually active together. (Elaborations: here and here).

I’m bringing all this up immediately because there is often an assumption that the Light we see the most in the second arc is fully reflective of his attitude during the timeskip, which I think is demonstrably untrue.

Nevertheless, it would also be wrong to say Light didn’t change at all.

For one, obviously, he gets a job. Contrary to popular opinion, Light’s work is NOT just being on the Kira Task Force. When the second arc starts up properly, he’s already been working on the information bureau for 6 months. And this is canonically not just a cover as Light mentions work from it that he was involved with:

So this brings Light up to 3 labor-intense jobs - NPA, L, Kira. Even with task delegating, that’s a lot of work. If there’s just one word to describe young adult Light it’s simply ‘busy’. He’s just so busy.

The other thing that notably changed is his relationship to Soichiro. This change took root during the Yotsuba Arc and spans further and further now. Though Light still looks up to his father, he is no longer hesitant to talk back to Soichiro - likewise, Soichiro often defers to him through this arc. The two of them have become adults of equal standing by now. Soichiro is no longer the unquestioned patriarch of the Yagami family. 

Now, there isn’t a lot of space to examine Light’s adult daily life demeanor in, but the image he gives off in the few scenes we get is that he’s become a more serious and stoic person over his years of being busy and living a double life. The double life aspect is especially highlighted in the brief Yagami family scene.

Though we see Light laugh along with his family, his eyes are obscured in both instances. With Light, this is classically a visual cue towards emotional conflict rather than plain lying. The issue here isn’t that he’s faking it, the issue is that his double life existence is taking some amount of mental toll on him.

At the start of the second arc we are introduced to the setting information that Kira has been gaining more and more wide-spread acceptance across the globe. Yet the Yagami family stands firmly against Kira, not exactly to Light’s delight. In the end, his family members are the prototypical ‘good people’ that he’s making his new world for in the first place. I’ve discussed ad nausea that Light desires his father approval, but his sister’s and mother’s opinion matter to him as well. Above all other people, Light loves his family. Five years of playing charades and listening to them vehemently disagree with his actions have created a sense of emotional disconnect though, which I think is visible in his vacant expressions during this scene.  

Since Light isn’t currently facing any thrilling challenge, I get the feeling that his mentality during this timeframe is a sense of ‘just a bit further until….’. He’s not living in the moment so much as dismissing the moment as temporary inconvenience on his quest towards the ideal he is striving for. (Which isn’t to say I see him as totally emotionally absent. This is just the underlying current.)

And that’s where we have Light at the end of Volume 7. And with Volume 8, he is immediately tossed into great emotional peril with Sayu’s kidnapping. This would be the first big segment you’d need to cover for second arc Light, but it’s already been written out brilliant by casuistor in the second half of this post. The bottom line is: Light changes all his plans to his disadvantage because he loves his sister and wants her safe, hurray! This is relevant to every arc Light really, loving his family is a big constant with him.

How much this all stresses him out is evident in him getting loud and abrasive, which isn’t much his usual behavior. (Again, I’d argue Misa seems surprised by this outburst more than anything - I don’t believe this has been a pattern between them at any point during the timeskip.)

Especially since he goes back to being smarmy as is default with her once the threat to his sister is dealt with.

The other big thing that happens in Volume 8 is obviously him meeting Mello and Near, who are the ones reintroducing struggle into Light’s stagnant life.

The meeting with Near immediately evokes the tension of a battle with L for Light - for Mello, the association doesn’t come until Sayu is out of immediate danger. Either way, for the time being the presence of these two kind of anchors Light. Having something to fight and schemes to do to keep his brain actively engaged tends to be something that makes him thrive.

It’s cool that he himself points out how thematically Mello and Near are challenging him on two different facets of his existence. The fact that it’s a challenge is also what sets this apart from Light vs L in the first arc. Though Light hadn’t initially known it, back then L was the established force and Light was the newcomer and challenger. Now Light is established in both areas and Mello and Near are the ones attacking his existent positions - that’s why he views them as roadblocks to outplay rather than as nemeses. He views himself, from the get-go, as the person with the upper hand - this brand of confidence is only possible because the timeskip existed and made Light get used to this as status quo.

And this about sums-up Light in the first half of the second arc. It’s important to note that as far as Light characterization is concerned the second arc really does segment mid volume 9. His father’s death is an event that changes Light significantly on every count.

I wrote it out before, so in the name of not getting super repetitive, here’s the key elements of Soichiro’s death as far as Light is concerned. 

It was not what Light planned. He wanted to kill Matsuda, he never even considered his father would volunteer.

Soichiro dies while expressing happiness that Light is not Kira - thus cementing once and for all that Light will never and can never attain his father’s approval that he yearns for.

Soichiro’s statement also implies that he still had doubts about Light’s innocence, even after mock-shooting him in the face and working alongside him for years. Light also learns his father never trusted him fully.

Basically everything Light wants from his father is negated and denied and then Soichiro is dead, leaving Light with no way to rectify things.

We’d established in the early paragraphs of this that a lot of Light acting as Kira was a matter of waiting until his family approves. Soichiro’s passing now makes this ‘until’ an impossibility. And that hurts badly.

Light deals with this by rationalizing everything to the n-th degree. He focuses himself on killing Mello during his father’s death to push the emotions as far away as possible and after that tries to cut himself off from his father emotionally as much as possible. This includes being avoidant to the rest of his family who remind him of the cocktail of unresolved emotions he has simmering below:

And then changes in his rhetoric and candidness about his thoughts are also immediately apparent. I feel like I cap this scene in every second post I write but it’s simply too relevant to ever be left out:

Again, we’re dealing with the hidden eyes visual cue that usually indicates that Light is saying the truth or is very emotionally conflicted about what he’s saying.

So here we have Light fully verbally acknowledging Kira’s evil-ness, to the world, to himself. Soichiro always thought of Kira as evil and how badly that wounded Light is one of the key segments early in the first arc. Now, Soichiro’s stance is eternal, because Soichiro is gone. Light has to acknowledge it as unchangable fact - so he focuses his rhetoric on the idea of sacrifice once more.

This little speech isn’t for the sake of the task force members, it’s Light’s answer to his dead father; Light re-convincing himself of his whole scheme.

None of these are brand-new thoughts for Light, but the timing and intensity with which they surface here is noteworthy.

(Side Note: from this point on, the usage of the hidden eye cue for Light changes a little - up until here it’d been used pretty much exclusively for Light being emotional. Now it is also often used when we see the scene from Aizawa’s perspective, symbolizing his distrust of Light - how he feels he and Light literally cannot talk eye to to eye because Light is lying. The inconsistency in the visual language is kind of annoying, but ah well.)

Further, Light loses his qualms about going against Soichiro’s morals in front of the task force. Now that there is no father there to judge him anymore, he doesn’t put too much care into keeping up appearances. Where in the Yotsuba Arc Light had made plenty clear that he’s his father’s good son who would never use people, he just… totally gives up on this now. Though in front of his father Light always acted out that he and Misa are an actual couple, he now cheats on her without so much as a feigned hesitance.

His excuse regarding Takada is half-hearted at best as well. Of course, this in part just relates to Ohba not putting any care into writing women or people’s feelings about women. But on a solely in-universe level, this is a notable shift in how manipulative Light lets people see him as.

The rest of the task force simply does not matter to him as more than mere pawns - their opinion of him is only important when it comes to threat level assessment. Light’s actual morality chain is gone now.

Light’s characterization during this time-frame is a little tough to talk about because there isn’t a lot of added value, if that makes sense? He’s the Light we know but less. His character change isn’t defined by new traits emerging so much as old traits falling away: Light doesn’t joke around anymore, Light doesn’t bother to hide duplicitous nature as much anymore. And notably, Light doesn’t really get emotional key moments anymore either.

He’s mostly just… this. He’s laser-focused on his plan and his victory while pushing aside any personal elements. 

Only with Takada, he amps up the charm again and acts more like his first arc self, but that’s not a positive statement to their relationship.

To Light, this is solely functional rather than relaxing. He was going to kill Takada along with everyone else who knows of the notebook right after the 28th, rather than keep her around for use. The only one who would have survived this rampage would have been Mikami, solely because he has the eyes and that is still useful.

And with all of this as our baseline, we move into the finale.

Going into the warehouse, Light is, above all, overconfident. In his mind, he’s won before he even sets foot into the Yellow Box. 

When he unfavorably compares Near to L, he’s in truth saying more about himself and his own mindset than he is saying about Near. He took L more seriously, not because L was better, but because he himself was more alert and aware of the possibility of failure. Earlier in the arc, Light even refers to Near as ‘worse’ than L on the threat-scale... He’s lost all of this now. The level of detached scheming he has reached after his father’s death is to the detriment of his maneuvering ability. 

Light now relies on the fact that he’s the established power and views himself as inherently victorious - though Light has always been arrogant, he used to not fully underestimate people this way. He has become complacent in his arrogance - I do think that is related to how dead inside he is generally, too.

So when it turns out that he has in fact been outplayed, he takes it harsher than he ever took any set-backs before. Instead of taking reparation measures immediately, he reacts with disbelief and badly thought out excuses.

Light is fully caught off-guard by his own failure.

He is laid bare in front of everybody. Light has spent the last five years consistently lying to everybody around him, but now he is proverbially naked. This panel uses the same visual language as when Light regained his memories at the end of the Yotsuba-arc. Here and there, a split-up Light becomes more himself. There, the literally memorywiped Light got reunited with his full plans. Here, Light’s masks fall away and he’s only himself in the eyes of himself and the world. 

Sometimes all you can do is laugh (tm).

Now Light finally gets to lay all the justifications he’s always told himself about his actions as Kira out in the open. And this time, maybe for the first time ever, literally every part of him believes in it. Now that everything has fallen away, this self-justification is literally all that Light has left and he’ll cling to it like a drowning man clings to a log of wood.

I think this is really the moment where Light ‘comes together’ so to speak. Masks and excuses conflate with the person, become one on every level.

For a large amount of the second arc Light has been driving on scheme-y autopilot but now his heart is fully in it once more. There is no more ‘until’. He’s justice now, he erased the last fraction of doubt now.... and it doesn’t help him.

Light is fully unified as himself for the first time.

And he’s also completely alone for the first time.

His entire life, Light had people look up to him. He’s always been adored. There has never ever been a situation in which there was truly nobody on Light’s side - not in all of his 23 years, not until now. 

And that’s the one thing Light can truly not believe. The one certainty in his life has always been that people look up to him. Now he’s on the floor, crawling in his own blood, and nobody is his ally. He can’t and won’t believe it.

And that’s why he asks Ryuk for help. And that’s why Ryuk kills him.

At the very end of his life, Light is a scared child. He comes full circle from the time he found the Death Note and thought he’d die for accidentally using it - he’s back to this fear of death, only this time it’s worse. Then, he had hope to change the world in his days before death. Now, he has changed it, and he realizes that’s not enough. Leaving a legacy is not simply not enough.

Light wants to live.

All these years of feeding himself the narrative of self-sacrifice for the greater good... and at the bottom line below all that, what he really wants is to live.

Too late for that.

[vexy-sins]

Kinktober 2018: BONUS #3 (Day Thirty-One Continuation)

Pairing: Dream x Nightmare (Dreamcest)

Featured Kinks: Breeding, Cunnilingus

Additional Notes: Fontcest/Dreamcest, noncon mention, character development, redemption, requested continuation of day thirty-one

Read Day Thirty-One: On Tumblr | On AO3

----------

Nightmare, as he so often seemed to do nowadays, stared at his brother, Dream, while he slept, contemplating thoughts that troubled his mind with moral dilemmas, something he hadn’t had a problem with since he’d eaten all of the apples from the tree that he and his brother once guarded so long ago. Insidious ideas swirled and frothed like waves of doubt crashing against the shores of his skull, and like any being who dared to challenge Nature, he found himself helpless to stop them.

Tonight he wondered about Dream’s… feelings. Sure, his golden brother moaned and screamed his name, begging for more every time they fucked- which was often- but for the very first time since Nightmare sought to breed him, he actually considered whether Dream truly enjoyed their couplings. Nightmare  knew the sessions were pleasurable for him. Just the thought of stuffing his brother’s cunt and asshole with tentacles stirred his magic with gleeful anticipation.

In fact, just a few hours earlier, Dream had hung, suspended by his wrists from two of the dripping tentacles while Nightmare’s many other appendages pounded him raw, filling his holes beyond their limit and making Dream’s stomach bulge. Nightmare never obstructed Dream’s beautiful mouth though; the harder and rougher he fucked his brother, the more delicious melodies of delirious praise and desperate desire poured from Dream’s throat.

When Nightmare came, he’d had to keep a thick, oozing tentacle inside of his brother’s constricting pussy to keep it from gaping too widely and spilling out his precious seed. Dream had fallen unconscious into his arms shortly afterwards, and Nightmare had cleaned him up and settled him into their shared bed with his overstimulated pussy walls still squeezing away at the sensitive tentacle, milking as much cum from Nightmare as he could produce. Now, Dream slept peacefully beside his brother, who laid awake with his tempestuous thoughts.

Peeking under the blankets, Nightmare watched in awe as the deep purple of his cum swirled within the translucent gold of Dream’s ecto-body, mingling with his brother’s magic and slowly being absorbed. Dream shifted slightly in his sleep, and Nightmare replaced the blanket quickly, not wanting to disturb the other skeleton’s rest, something he never would’ve considered before, much less allowed to occupy the forefront of his mind.

Without the vivid memories of breeding his brother distracting him, Nightmare’s thoughts returned to the subject at hand. Did Dream truly enjoy the sex, or was he simply giving in to what made his brother happy? Did Dream only ask for this in order to reestablish any semblance of the relationship that once existed between them, no matter how one-sided or tainted it may be? Did he even want Nightmare?

The questions burned in his mind. Why did it suddenly matter so much? Nightmare had hunted Dream across the Multiverse to destroy him. He’d laid waste to countless lives without so much as a second thought. He never cared who he hurt, who he killed, and least of all who he left behind to pick up the pieces. He embodied all of the evil and negativity of the Multiverse, and he cared about nothing!

Until now.

About Dream.

Nightmare realized that mending his relationship with his brother involved both of them, not just himself and his wishes. His satisfaction no longer eclipsed everything else. Dream mattered too. Dream’s emotions mattered, and allowing those things to take up space inside his skull left less and less room for his narcissism and more and more room for doors to slowly come open, revealing truths long buried, clawing their way to the surface. 

If he allowed himself to care about Dream, it meant allowing the possibility for good within himself, the possibility to reclaim what he’d lost. It also meant facing the consequences of his actions and taking a good look at who he had become, and that frightened him like nothing else. He shivered, caught on the precipice of change, too afraid to step back and not yet courageous enough to move forward.

Dream rolled over in his sleep, wiggling closer to Nightmare, both seeking the security of physical touch and offering it. Nightmare rather enjoyed it when Dream cuddled up to him, watching a slightly furrowed brow and a moue of dissatisfaction melt away into a relaxed expression. However pressing the questions were, they could wait for a more opportune time. Pulling Dream tightly against his body, Nightmare finally succumbed to sleep, a sleep blissfully devoid of his namesake.

The ooze of negativity that coated Nightmare’s entire body dripped thicker than usual the next morning as he wandered through his castle. Before he brought his brother here, Nightmare used this castle for plotting and recruiting minions to hunt for his brother. Now the halls stood empty and silent except for the drafts that somehow managed to find their way in despite the thick stone walls and sparse windows. Flames danced in the wall sconces, their eerie light teasing shadows in the corners. Nightmare couldn’t help comparing the orange tones of firelight to the bright gold that his brother radiated. He’d never thought of his castle as poorly lit before, but now he felt as if he walked through a never-ending shroud.

His meandering soon led him to the courtyard. Only scarred, barren ground hinted at the existence of the tree that once stood in the center, a haunted memory now for those who survived to remember it. Nothing dared to grow here under Nightmare’s wicked gaze, yet now he craved a hint of green or the delicate scent of flowers. Plants did not do well when nourished on dark emotions, but maybe Dream’s presence could at least coax a decent carpet of grass to take up residence. It would be... nice to sit outside, warmed by the sun, especially for Dream who must surely hate the gloomy stone corridors of Nightmare’s home, the home they now shared.

Nightmare sighed heavily. He brought Dream here to mend their broken relationship, start a family, be as close as they once were, but the more he saw his surroundings for what they truly were- the lair of a monster steeped in negativity- the more he felt that he may have wronged his brother again. This time, guilt stung him sharply. Shame gnawed away at the darkness inside of him, an emotional stranger making a sudden and very unwelcome appearance at the doorstep of his psyche, unwilling to be ignored, unable to be faced. He needed to escape it.

As he turned to seek out his brother and bury his tentacles and his emotions in a tight, wet pussy, Nightmare noticed a trail of black sludge footprints showing clearly where he’d recently walked. Strange. He would have to find someone to clean that up… later. For now, he had more important business to attend to.

Nightmare found his brother gazing out of a tower window at the desolate landscape that characterized his kingdom. The castle had not always perched upon such a dreary roost; once, the land surrounding the great stone structure burst with lush greenery and vivacious inhabitants. Nothing survives long with only negativity to nurture it though. Not life, not land, and certainly not relationships.

Nightmare pushed the thoughts aside. Watching his brother from the threshold of the tower room, desire uncurled inside of him, mirrored by the tentacles springing from his back, dripping thick black globs of negative emotion onto the floor. This desire burned hotter than normal, a desire not for his own pleasurable release but to see his brother writhing and moaning as he came undone, drunk on the heady pleasure that Nightmare promised with a curt but breathy command.

“Bend over,” rasped Nightmare, already pressing himself against Dream and clawing at his clothing. Dream obeyed, leaning over the windowsill and tilting his hips to give Nightmare access to every part of his body. Nightmare’s new resolve weakened but held. He could control himself… for his brother’s sake.

Dream braced himself, expecting immediate, rough penetration. That was Nightmare’s style after all. This time, Nightmare decided to try something different. The oozing skeleton’s eyelights fixed on Dream’s magic, pooled so delicately in his pelvis. Had he ever really stopped to appreciate it before? Of course not. He had only thought about what he could get out of it. Selfish. Foolish.

Easily remedied.

Nightmare rested his hands on either side of Dream’s round ass, gently kneading the soft golden ecto-flesh beneath his phalanges. Using his thumbs, he spread the asscheeks apart to reveal the glorious treasure between them. Dream’s asshole spasmed in anticipation of his brother’s tentacles, but Nightmare just ran the very end of his sharp thumb phalange around the rim, not entering, not yet.

Lowering his hands, Nightmare used his thumbs to part the plump pussy lips that hid Dream’s tight little fuckhole. The inner folds were glistening and silky with arousal, and as Nightmare delved between them to tease at his brother’s quivering opening, the sticky juices dribbled down to stain Dream’s femurs. The delectable scent of his brother’s excitement stirred Nightmare’s magic again. He needed a taste of that sweet, intoxicating nectar, a taste right from the source.

Nightmare knelt on the hard stone floor, bringing his face in close.

“Brother, what are you-” Dream never got a chance to finish his question because Nightmare spread his pussy wide open and dipped his tongue inside, swirling and curling it to reach every sensitive spot. Dream’s eyelights rolled back when Nightmare splayed his tongue across his pussy entrance and sucked, drinking in the arousal that now flowed as freely as his moans.

Dream’s usual screams and pleas fell drastically short of the siren-like allure of these new sounds that poured from him. Every whimper and low moan spurred Nightmare to even greater efforts until Dream clutched the windowsill like he might not be able to remain standing without it, and with the way his legs trembled, it was a definite possibility.

“Fuck… oh, fuck…” gasped Nightmare, tongue buried in his brother. He couldn’t wait any longer. He stood up and stepped back in one fluid motion, licking Dream’s tangy juices from his mouth with a greedy tongue.

Nightmare spun Dream around to face him, pushing his brother up against the wall and lifting his legs to settle him onto his pelvis. “Be as loud as you want, brother. I want the whole world to know you’re mine and to hear what I’m doing to you,” Nightmare growled against Dream’s cheek, releasing the smooth purple magic of his erection from his pants and rubbing it between Dream’s pussy lips. His cock slipped in with surprising ease, and it felt absolutely incredible to sink into that tight, wet heat at his brother’s core.

As per his brother’s request, Dream didn’t hold back. Instead of his typical screaming and shrill begging, he gasped, moaned, mewled, and sang Nightmare’s praises to a kingdom laid waste below them. If there had been anyone left to hear them, the lewd noises may have quickened their steps on the journey home for a steamy tryst of their own.

With one hand pressed to the wall to cushion the impact of their movements and prevent the stones from bruising his brother and the other digging into his brother’s ass cheek, Nightmare huffed and panted, thrusting with wild abandon, losing himself to the passion. Dream’s pale bone hands scrabbled at the sludge that coated Nightmare’s clothing and bones, finally gaining purchase on his ribcage through the thin fabric of his shirt. Holding on tightly, Dream rocked his hips into every thrust, and it drove Nightmare wild.

Unable to contain himself, his entire being demanding more, more, more, Nightmare leaned forward and found Dream’s mouth. With a whisper-soft cry, Dream opened his mouth, and Nightmare kissed him, hungry and demanding. Dream’s arms and legs locked around his brother as Nightmare swallowed his moans, moving their mouths as if they could never get enough of each other. Their tongues met, touching tentatively at first, then stroking each other in tandem with the movements of their hips.

“S-so close,” hissed Nightmare, breaking the kiss to gulp air. His body shook with the impending orgasm. Nothing had ever felt this good in his entire life.

Dream could only gasp a single syllable, a name that his brother hadn’t heard since he’d become bitter and jaded so long ago and changed his name into the bristling armor that it was today. “Night.” Just Night, not Nightmare. The moniker sent him careening over the edge into glorious euphoria.

Nightmare laid awake in bed with a drowsy Dream laying across his chest. More mess than usual had been left in the tower room, excessive amounts of black sludge residue in addition to the mingled sex magic from himself and his brother. That would be a worry for another time. Now he wanted to address the question that prevented him from dozing off with Dream.

“Dream,” he murmured tentatively, unsure if his brother was even lucid enough to answer with the mixture of orgasm afterglow and sleepy contentedness. Dream made a sound of encouragement for Nightmare to continue.

“Do you… enjoy it… when we have sex?” Nightmare actually struggled to get the words out. He felt Dream tense up in his arms, then immediately relax.

“Today was amazing,” Dream replied, nuzzling his face against his brother’s ribcage despite the layer of negativity that coated it.

A wry smile briefly crossed Nightmare’s face. Of course Dream had enjoyed the sex today. Amazing didn’t even begin to describe what they’d shared. “I meant before. Before today,” Nightmare amended.

Dream hesitated, and that hesitation cut like a knife. “I love being close to you again,” Dream hedged, neatly sidestepping the actual question. A mountain of unspoken words rose in the silence that followed. 

The nonanswer provided its own answer. He’d fucked up and hurt his brother under the guise of rebuilding their relationship, and they both knew it. Dream was just too kindhearted to say it outright. Nightmare didn’t sleep at all that night, mulling over his transgressions until the sun peeked over the horizon.

When Nightmare finally got out of bed, he noticed an alarming amount of negativity left behind on the sheets and pillows, though none of it dared to smudge Dream’s gleaming bones or nightclothes. The malignant monarch toyed with the idea that this continuous exposure to his brother’s eternal positivity could be depleting his life force, but if the price of restoring their once-close relationship was his very existence, well, it would not be unjustified. The concept of justification and accountability brought his mind back to more pressing matters that weighed heavily on his newfound conscience- his minions.

His minions had been forced into his service after he’d destroyed their homes, their families, their lives. Twisted by desperation and hopelessness, they believed that they had no choice but to toil forever under the slime-coated boots of their unforgiving and unfeeling tyrant without any future to look forward to except for servitude unto death. He’d stolen their choices from them… just like he had done to his brother. He had so much to make amends for, and the time to get started was long overdue.

Right and wrong are principles that only exist in the minds of those who seek out the former and wish to avoid the latter. Those who commit acts of evil rarely care in what light their actions are described. This realization gave Nightmare something to mull over, lurking in the shadows while Dream spoke with his former minions, encouraging them to rebuild their town and inundating them with hope for a brighter future. Dream truly shone in his position as savior, something Nightmare found himself admiring as his perception of the world slowly shifted for the better.

Change did not come easily, but it did come, and once it began, there was no stopping it. Nightmare laid awake many nights reliving mistakes that he hadn’t even considered to be mistakes at the time, but each day more light found its way into the castle and the once frigid drafts warmed into fresh summer breezes.

Under Dream’s positive influence, the overall ambiance in the castle continued to improve, but Nightmare himself seemed to be melting at an alarming rate as the days passed. He tried to hide the sludge piles from Dream. If Dream’s sunny personality was killing him, he didn’t want his brother to know it. Dream, for his part, didn’t comment on the messes, but his expression grew more concerned each time he saw how much of the dripping negativity Nightmare left in his wake.

Soon, pale fabric and paler bone peeked through the fine sheen of darkness, and Dream could no longer hold back his emotions. “Brother, you look terrible! What’s happening to you?” he asked, voice trembling.

“I always look terrible. Being the embodiment of negativity does that to a guy,” Nightmare attempted to joke. When Dream refused to take the bait, he tried lying. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.” His answer was as unsatisfactory as his brother’s had been when he asked his own very serious question, and that towering mountain of avoided communication loomed between them once more.

Hurt and disappointed, Dream slept on his own side of the bed with his back to his brother, a silent protest that reverberated through the room with more intensity that any shouted words. A fitful sleep was Nightmare’s only escape, and he accepted it readily.

Dream shook his brother from slumber the next morning, babbling frantically. “Night! Night, your face! Look at your face!”

“Can’t look at my own face,” grumbled Nightmare tiredly, though Dream’s tone and his use of the cast aside name roused him from their bed. He stumbled across the floor to the bathroom mirror… and stared in wordless wonder at the face that stared back at him. 

Nightmare reached out tentatively with a shaking hand to touch the reflective surface that held the image of a face unmarred by the perpetual ooze of negativity- round cheekbones and an open, honest smile that he barely recognized, but the sight of his hand startled him even more. The bones were clean and white with no dark patina of corruption left to drip from them. He still felt the negativity pulsing inside of him, but it no longer consumed him, no longer defined him. He had been liberated.

Nightmare cast aside his clothing, still stained with remnants of the muck and his old bitter life and turned on the shower, inhaling the steam as the water heated before stepping in to make sure no traces of goop remained. Scrubbed clean, he emerged back into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist to see Dream standing there, smiling and holding out… his old uniform.

The high collared silk shirt with its ornate buckles and the matching pants brought back memories of dappled sunlight, sitting under the tree with his brother while the apples swayed in the breeze that sent scattered cotton puff clouds chasing after their shadows far below. The entire ensemble was crisp and clean with not a wrinkle or a dust particle to be seen, clearly Dream’s handiwork.

“I found this tucked away in a trunk, and I thought you might want to wear it again one day. Now seems like a good time,” said Dream softly.

Nightmare took the clothes, rubbing the silk between his phalanges, Despite all the changes he’d made recently, he still clung to the mantle of Nightmare. Maybe it was time to place that personification into a chest to be tucked away and forgotten in some unused room within the castle. Maybe it was time to become simply Night again. He dressed himself, marveling at how well the clothing still fit him. A lifetime of changes had changed very little at all.

Dream moved behind him, and Nightmare felt a once familiar weight settle atop his head. His crown. He knew Dream didn’t find the crown in the castle; he’d discarded the unnecessary finery when he became Nightmare and hadn’t seen it since. Dream must have kept it for all these years. Now his brother returned it to its rightful place, completing the transformation of Nightmare back to Night.

“You’re quite handsome when you’re cleaned up,” giggled Dream, admiring his handiwork.

Night couldn’t force his mouth into a scowl with the compliment echoing around the room, but not even genuine praise managed to subdue his snark. “We were formed from the same energy source. We’re practically twins,” he pointed out.

“I know, silly,” Dream shot back, kissing Night’s pristine cheekbone. Silly. Nobody had addressed Night with such flippant endearments before. He liked it. Silly. Perhaps someday he would try it out, this being silly he stood so wrongly accused of. Dream didn’t point out the adorable purple blush creeping across Night’s cheekbones. He’d teased his brother enough for tonight… but tomorrow was a new day.

----------

“This is where our tree used to be?” Dream asked softly. Night nodded, carefully avoiding his brother’s eyelights. Dream touched the parched, cracked earth. “It’s so-”

“Desolate,” suggested Night emotionlessly, trying to force a judgement from his brother. Dream refused to play along.

“I was going to say full of potential.” Night blinked. Of course Dream would put a positive spin on a barren patch of dirt. “There’s so much life waiting just beneath the surface for a little encouragement and care to help it to grow. Even when things look bleak and hopeless, there’s always a possibility for something better.”

Dream’s words touched his brother deeply. They would restore life and beauty to the courtyard. They would bring growth to dormancy and breathe the breath of life into emptiness. The transformation in the garden would reflect the transformation in Night himself. Work progressed quickly once the decision was made.

Dream’s radiant positivity coaxed multitudes of bright green shoots from the soil, and they uncurled to face the sunshine as if awakening from a long slumber. Dream darted from one section of the garden to the next like a joyful bee enjoying the bounty of spring. Night watched him from an archway that connected the courtyard to the castle, wearing the shadows like he’d once worn his seeping negativity. He didn’t dare to enter the courtyard. Plants wilted beneath the heavy burden of negative emotion, and Night hated the idea of destroying what his brother had newly curated.

Time passed, and the garden expanded and flourished, filling the entire courtyard… except for one area that remained conspicuously empty. Nothing grew in the very center of the courtyard, the space that their tree once occupied. Night didn’t comment on it. If plants weren’t able to grow there at the site of so much heartache and upheaval, he didn’t want Dream to feel bad about it, and if it was a conscious decision on Dream’s part to leave that area as a monument to what had once been, Night had no complaints about that either. In fact, Night had very little to complain about lately.

During the day, Dream tended to the courtyard garden under Night’s watchful eyelights or proposed decor changes to the stark castle walls and floors. It surprised Night how much the warm tones that Dream chose managed to create such a welcoming atmosphere while still maintaining the somber formality of castle living. Dream frequently invited Night to join him on shopping excursions into the town, but Night preferred to stay away from the townspeople, reluctant to remind them of his tyranny.

Dream would not be denied. He coaxed and encouraged Night just like one of his small seedlings, finally convincing him to venture from the castle grounds down into the town where he hadn’t set foot since he’d utterly decimated it. At first the townspeople hid from him, just as he suspected, but little by little, they came to recognize the brothers as a source of business and prosperity, even offering Night samples of baked goods when the two skeleton monsters ventured to the market for supplies. Their acceptance was so much more rewarding than their fear.

By day, Night worked on himself, but when the velvety curtain of nighttime fell, Night worked on his personal hobby- pleasuring his brother. Night discovered that if he licked, sucked, and stroked Dream’s pussy and clit just right, he could curl Dream’s toes, arch his spine, make his eyelights roll back and his pussy gush with sweet arousal. He drank the explosion of juices and drove Dream to new heights of orgasm every night. The breeding still hadn’t taken yet, but it certainly wasn’t for lack of trying.

Thoughts of delving between his brother’s thighs occupied Night’s mind while Dream bent over in the courtyard garden, inspecting the heavy buds on the flowers he’d nurtured. Night expected them to have bloomed by now, opening their petals to drink the early morning dew as flower blossoms generally did, but he lacked the horticultural knowledge to be sure. If anyone could awaken a riot of colors on the once drab grounds, though, it would be his brother.

Dream straightened. “The flowers are ready,” he declared, interrupting Night’s salacious reverie.

“Ready for what?” Night asked, perplexed. Were they going to bloom right now? He craned his neck, but the buds looked the same as they had a few minutes ago, the same as they had looked yesterday and the day before that. How could Dream even tell they were ready?

“For tonight.”

“Tonight?” echoed Night, feeling extremely silly even without Dream using the term of endearment. Dream just smiled at him and nodded without elaborating. Night thanked the stars that he wasn’t a cat or curiousity would’ve come in for a swift and brutal assassination right then and there. Instead, he resigned himself to wait. He trusted his brother.

Dream gently pushed Night away when he burrowed under the covers for his bedtime snack. “Later,” Dream promised with a musical laugh when Night pouted and grumbled. To his credit, the disappointed skeleton moved away, accepting the rejection, something he wouldn’t have done when Dream first moved to the castle with him. 

Night wanted to be better, but change was hard… as hard as he was, going to sleep with his mind filled with images of railing his brother senseless without the benefit of actually doing so. The disappointment softened and gave way to contentment, however, when Dream curled up next to him. Sometimes pleasure came from putting his brother’s desires first, even if they countermanded his own.

Dream roused his brother a few hours after midnight, holding up a picnic basket and a blanket invitingly. Night yawned and stretched, pulling on his clothing and following dutifully behind his brother who seemed so out of place creeping through the castle corridors under cover of darkness, his golden aura shimmering like a fiery torch to ward off the chill and tendrils of shadows that crawled along the floor just outside of the sphere of illumination. 

When the two skeletons arrived in the courtyard, Night couldn’t contain his gasp of wonder. The full moon angled perfectly over the inner walls of the castle to kiss the garden with enchantment, and the flowers held their blossoms wide open for the attention. Under the moon’s pale glow, Night picked out lovely shades of white, yellow, pink, and even deep, rich blues and purples, and the scents filled the air, delicate and mysterious. Smiling smugly, Dream spread the picnic blanket on a patch of lush grass and set the basket on top of it.

“I only planted night-blooming flowers,” he explained unnecessarily. “I wanted you to see the beauty that thrives in the darkness.” He patted the blanket, and Night sat down next to him.

“Darkness sure, but nothing can survive in negativity,” Night argued weakly. His eyelights darted from plant to plant, painstakingly chosen and lovingly tended to provide this gift for him. He didn’t deserve it. He was still the embodiment of negativity even if he wasn’t actively wielding it like a shield and sword.

Dream sighed wistfully, and Night regretted his characteristically negative comments. He should be thanking his brother, not arguing with him. Dream’s next words surprised him.

“You’re wrong.” Night just stared at his brother. “Adversity promotes growth. It encourages people to strive and overcome, to find the strength to move forward, and to appreciate their achievements in spite of it. Positivity breeds stagnation and complacency.” Night tried to argue the point, but Dream held up a hand to silence him. “Without negativity to give people goals to work towards, positivity is meaningless. Without the hope for a positive outcome, negativity destroys. Positivity and negativity need each other, like we need each other.”

Tears gathered in Dream’s sockets, and Night reached over to wipe them away. Dream sniffled but continued his speech as Night wordlessly wrapped his arms around his brother. “People loved me for my positivity. They basked in my light, and I let them. It felt good to be admired, to be valued, but they only wanted the positivity for themselves and nothing else. They didn’t know me or want to know me, yet I let them lure me away from the one person who truly understood me. I let their attention blind me to your suffering until you felt you had no other choice but to consume the apples and kill the tree. You didn’t cause what happened here, Night. We both did.”

“I-” Night sputtered, but Dream pushed him down onto the blanket and straddled him, tears quelled and eyelights hazy with desire.

“I want to make it up to you,” Dream whispered against his skull in a husky voice before running his hand down the front of his brother’s pants and stroking the magic into a throbbing erection. Night could only groan in anticipation.

Dream shimmied out of his pants, then tugged Night’s pants off as well, tossing them carelessly away into the silver-dappled darkness. He lowered himself, locking eyelights with Night and letting his golden tongue dart out to catch a drop of pre-cum on his cock. Stroking the length of the purple shaft almost reverently, Dream lapped at it until it glistened with his saliva. Lifting himself up, he guided it between his pussy lips. Night actually thought he might faint at the initial hitch of entry. He’d never experienced such intense pleasure in his life, and Dream was only getting started.

Dream lowered himself with agonizing slowness, letting Night feel the tight grip of his pussy sliding all the way down the length of his cock, squeezing and fluttering around it as it filled him up and spread his plump pussy lips wide. Night panted and moaned beneath his brother as Dream gradually quickened his pace, lifting and lowering himself, tilting his hips to get the perfect angle. Night held on to his brother’s pelvis, lifting his own to thrust in tandem with his brother. 

Their heads tipped back and their tongues protruded from their gasping mouths as they worked together towards a powerful orgasm. It built swiftly, like thunderheads darkening the sky just prior to opening up and letting the deluge of blinding pleasure roll over the two skeletons.

“B-breed me, Night, Fill me up,” wailed Dream plaintively.

“So close… almost… ahh!” Night cried, arching his back and slamming into Dream one final time, holding him in place as cum poured into his eager pussy. Dazed and drunk on the sweet bliss of orgasm afterglow, Dream laid his head on Night’s chest, closed his sockets, and dozed off. Night fell asleep underneath his brother, still inside of him, and for once, completely satisfied with the world.

“Night! Night wake up! You have to see this!” Dream’s excited voice shattered Night’s sleep, and after the disorientation of waking up outside, pantsless in the courtyard solidified into memories of last night, Night shot bolt upright. Dream faced away from him. Could he be…?

Night rushed to his side, ready to ask Dream if there was a soulling growing inside of him when he saw it. A rapidly growing sapling occupied the site where their tree once stood. In a matter of minutes, the new tree had matured enough to bear small fruits, and Dream and Night both reached out to touch one.

The fruits of the new tree bore only a small resemblance to their predecessors. The apples on this new tree were smooth and gold… and shot through with shimmering darkness that possessed a blue-purple iridescence similar to Night’s magic. The appearance of the fruit was a riddle easily solved. These apples were light and darkness. These apples were positivity and negativity. These apples were balance. These apples were theirs, and this time they would protect them.

Together.

INDEX | READ ON AO3

[fortruechaos-moved]

chant —— how easily distracted is your muse? when they’re working on something they’re passionate about, is it hard to pull them away? ~thieving-tigress

I’d say Shadow’s pretty goal-oriented but if someone poses an exciting enough challenge he’s not above messing around with them.

I’m gonna talk a bit more about why I like SA2 Shadow so much as opposed to other versions of Shadow and why I draw from that more for my characterization because I HAVE FEELINGS.

In SA2, Shadow goes out of his way to antagonize Sonic a lot. “You’re comparing yourself to me? Ha, you’re not even good enough to be my fake!” Is not a phrase Shadow would ever utter in current games, even though he’s arguably just as goal-driven in modern games as he was in SA2. SA2 Shadow just knows how to...have fun while getting what he wants, I guess.

That’s why he always messes with Sonic in SA2. Here’s this newcomer that poses a threat and might undermine his entire plan, but winning is half of the fun for Shadow. But he never goes so far out of his way to completely forego his original plan with the Eclipse Cannon. If Sonic happens to be there while Shadow’s continuing to gather the Chaos Emeralds, he will capitalize on it and mess around with him. But if he’s not there, that’s no problem, either.

Could you imagine if Shadow had more of that with Mephiles--or even Silver? The only moment Shadow even tries messing with Silver is when he kicks him in the head, and that was supposed to just be Shadow disarming a potential threat instead of toying with him.

God I WISH SEGA would bring that back again with Shadow.

So, tl;dr: Shadow is goal-oriented and puts that first, but if there’s something entertaining going on while he’s in the process of achieving said goal, he will happily partake.

[neednothavehappenedtobetrue]

I had a lot of fun with this one! I might do more, especially if people like it! it’s meant to be Ketzedon mythology.

Nadia’s favorite American fairytale is Hansel and Gretel. her favorite American movie is Frozen, but in most versions of that fairytale they are not siblings, they are a girl and the boy she loves, which is less interesting. 

her children prefer the fairytales she grew up on, the ones she learned from Helena.

there are two sisters. Opal and Ruby. Willow and White Oak. Oriana and Isolde. Nova and Serenity. they have a lot of names, because goddesses pick up new names every century and they live a lot of centuries. in the stories, it’s Opal who brings them new names every century. it’s Ruby who writes them down.

there are two sisters and they love the same man. His name, always, is Death, but people almost exclusively call him “Death-who-belongs-to-her,”

(it’s one word in Ketzeskell, quechenn. it is hard to translate fairytales)

sometimes the people mean “Death who belongs to Opal” and sometimes they mean “Death who belongs to Ruby” and a lot of the time they just mean “Death who belongs to whichever at the moment is listening to me” but rarely does anyone suggest Death might belong to himself. he doesn’t mind. 

Death can be kind, or not, but he is always fastidious. he can be mercurial or predictable but he is always meticulous. he is very detail-oriented. he is very busy, because there is a lot of work for Death to do, but he makes time for the three things he loves, which are his two wives and his vast collection of miniatures. he sculpts them out of stone and wood and gems and cloth. In his private quarters, he has built a tiny model of the world, with tiny sapphire oceans and land lushly green with real moss, the moss standing in for trees and grass and the things that make the real world green. the tiny world has tiny cities, made of matchstick and brick fragments, and tiny castles made of clay. it has clockwork miniature whales and bears and lions. there are differences of opinion about whether it contains people. 

it must be said, his wives do not take much interest in his miniatures unless they are trying to flatter him. 

“oh look,” they say, when they need something from him. “is that a tiny whale? how precious! how ever did you make it?”

“you don’t care about my miniatures,” he says.

“I like the tiny whale,” Opal says defensively. “look how it moves among the sapphires. show me the newest thing you’ve built.”  she is able to muster a little bit more enthusiasm for the miniatures than her sister. 

“you care about the miniatures,” Ruby says. “and I care about you. so I care about the miniatures... a little bit. show me the stars again.” the tiny world has tiny stars set above it, miniature embers. 

he always shows them what they ask for. 

the sisters love each other. they occasionally quarrel, but they love each other with a sister-love that eclipses even their love for Death. that’s why they decided they would both marry him, to minimize the amount of quarreling over him they did.  they informed him of this and he took it in stride. Death went to ask permission from the sisters’ parents, the earth and sky.

“I want to marry your daughters,” Death said.

“which one?”

“daughters. Opal and Ruby. Willow and White Oak. Oriana and Isolde. Nova and Serenity.”

“yes, but... both of them? at once?”

“I suspect it will have to be at once, yes. otherwise there will be at least a few moments where I am married to one and not the other, and they will have to pick who goes first. that sounds like a bad recipe.”

“what gives you the right to demand both of our beautiful daughters? you think just one of them is not enough for you?”

“your daughters are incalculably vast and I am really only one thing. it is a modestly important thing, death, as concepts go, but no, it does not measure up to either of them, let alone both. still, I am here, asking to marry your daughters.” 

“and you think we will give both of our daughters away to a little man like you?”

“I was rather hoping you might.” 

“and why would we do that?”

“well, because they have decided they would like to marry me. both of them. they have come to an accord on this point. they sent me to get your permission, as you do, but really, they are the ones driving this particular oxcart. you must know what they are like when they come to an accord on something.”  

the earth and the sky looked at each other. “so really you do not wish to marry them?”

“I wish to marry them very much. I came here through the woods and the mountains and the lands of the living and the dead, and I cleared a lot of time in my schedule to do it, to ask your permission to marry them. I love them both very much and will be delighted and honored to be their husband, if you will allow it.”

“do you love them?”

“of course I do. I would not travel through the woods and the mountains and the lands of the living and the dead to ask permission to marry two women who I did not love. that would be a waste of time.”

“you are merely frightened to disappoint them.”

“it would have made for a difficult century, disappointing them, but it would have been more efficient than disappointing them by degrees for eternity.” 

“ah, but which one do you love more?”

“I love them both.”

“of course you do. but if you had to choose. if we were to force you to choose under threat of obliteration.” 

“I may not be popular with many people,” says Death “and I am widely regarded to be not very much fun at parties. but I am very difficult to destroy. entropy is sort of my thing, you see.”

“we could put you in a small room for many centuries.”

“you would begin to have logistical problems after a few days. things like to die. they’ve sort of structured the world around it happening..” 

“we will only give you one. you have to choose.”

“I will not.”

“you are Death. you are constant, unavoidable, unyielding. surely you prefer our Ruby, our White Oak, our Isolde, our Serenity.”

“I do not.” 

“or perhaps opposites attract? or you are not as we characterized you? you are unpredictable to the living. you reshape their world. surely you prefer our Opal, our Willow, our Oriana, our Nova.”

“I am Death. I am at once constant and unpredictable. I am all those things you say and I love both of your daughters very much.” 

“they are so different! how can you love both of them the same?”

“I just do. don’t you?” 

“our Opal is vibrant and flirtatious, lively and quick-thinking. our Ruby is stubborn and stolid. at her best she is cozy, familiar, like worn-in shoes. surely you prefer one over the other?”

“I do not.” 

“our Ruby is brilliant and persistent, steady and talented. our Opal is capricious and dramatic. at her best, she sparkles in the light like a bauble. surely you prefer one over the other?”

“I do not. please stop saying unkind things about your children to force me to voice an opinion.”

“how will you manage it, being married to two people?”

“I am quite good at logistics. I will make a calendar. it will be perfectly manageable. most things are.”

“our daughters are not.”

“I promise I know this.” 

they set for him a series of challenges for the girls’ separate hands and wait to see which ones he solves first. he shows resourcefulness and intelligence and an affinity for fine detail, but not favoritism. eventually, they capture him in their cottage beyond the woods and the mountains and the lands of the living and the dead and they wait for the girls to show up themselves, thinking one will be faster than the other, spurred on by passion.

they arrive together and they are cross. 

“mummy! daddy!” they complain, though it is not clear which of their parents is which. “you can’t just make hostages of people! especially not Death. we tried to do his job but were both rubbish at it in different ways. also, we love him, please give him back.”

“we have set a test for you. the winner loves him the more and shall have his hand.” 

“no, daddy, mummy, we have already done this. we spent a century devising tests for each other and we couldn’t sort it out. we both love him the same. now please give him back so he can fix the dead people and we can get married.”

“we have not yet granted permission,” the earth and sky said, and the twins turned identical pouts on their parents, who have never been able to withstand them on the occasions that they come to an accord. 

“must we?” the girls ask, and their parents relent. 

they are married in the cottage and they honeymoon in the woods and the mountains and then they must go back to the lands of the living and the dead, to sort out the inevitable logistical issues that arose when Death was kidnapped.  

[portraitoftheoddity]

Ik this is out of the blue, but if you wanna talk about Loki I have a question. I'm having trouble writing him because he seems to always do things that are contrary to what he wants. He wants Thor to love him so he... Constantly betrays Thor and tries to kill him. It's difficult to get potential friends/love interests past the barbed wire fence he's put around himself. I was wondering what you think of that? Because I just really like hearing you talk about Loki. If you want.

*cracks knuckles* Awwwww, yesssss, here is my jam.

(I’ll be focusing on MCU!Loki here as comics!Loki hasn’t been stabbing Thor all that much lately so I’m guessing he’s not the subject of this ask.)

You’ve already touched on a really core component of Loki’s character, anon, which is that he is a great big mess of Contradictions with a capital C. He wants to be loved. He wants to be feared. He wants to destroy and he wants to be a savior. He wants the throne, and he just wants to be an equal. His methods and actions often seem at odds with his stated desires and goals. And for all that he’s depicted as the ‘god of chaos’ because of the results of his villainy, you could just as easily make an argument for the chaos being internal.

Frigga, who probably knows Loki best of anyone, makes a very poignant observation when she notes that Loki is “always so perceptive about everyone but [himself].” And I think this gets at the core of Loki’s character in a lot of ways – After having his world fall apart from under him in the first Thor movie, Loki has no idea who he is, what his role is, or what he wants. And in that state of conflict, he’s prone to undermining himself at every turn. He ‘wants’ to take over the Earth, but then forms a strategy for the invasion that’s easily thwarted. He ‘wants’ to be loved by his family, but constantly pushes them away. Possibly because he’s so angry and bitter that spite motivates him more than his own best interests. Possibly because he has a lot of self loathing (“I’m the monster parents tell their children about at night”) and subconsciously punishes himself. And possibly because he’s terrified of successfully getting what he thinks he wants and still being unhappy – which… given his plan in Thor did successfully get Thor out of the way and Loki on the throne and still wound up being one of the worst weeks in his life, is a rather understandable fear. He also seems to be acting out of fear anytime someone gets too close and is in a position to help him, as Loki subsequently turns on them almost defensively, like he’s trying to pre-empt any betrayal they might inflict on him by inflicting it on them first (See: “Sentiment.” / “You’re not.” / “Easier to let it burn.”)

A notable constant in Loki’s characterization is that he craves attention. So much of his bitterness comes from being constantly eclipsed by Thor his whole life, and feeling unseen (“I remember a shadow”). In Avengers, Tony recognizes that Loki is “a full-tilt diva.” At his trial in The Dark World, Loki is all about putting on a show of snark and bravado, because even negative attention is still attention – and while Odin gives him the satisfaction of yelling at him, his sentencing is a cruel outcome for Loki, since he’s imprisoned and left to be forgotten; something far worse, to him, than the drama of a public execution. We see this love of attention even more in Ragnarok, where he’s obviously indulging in making statues and plays commemorating himself, and then working his way into the Grandmaster’s inner circle. Whether he’s loved or hated, Loki is desperate not to be ignored.  

And I think that need for attention plays into a lot of his antagonism of Thor. He resents Thor for monopolizing what feels to Loki like a finite amount of love and attention in the universe. But he loves Thor all the same, as his brother and as a fixture in Loki’s life. And if he betrays Thor over and over and hurts him and gets Thor to hate him – well, it’s not as good as love, but love is almost too good to hope for and feels too fragile and ephemeral to someone with Loki’s insecurities. If he can’t count on Thor’s love, he’ll bet on his hate, because either is better than indifference. (Which is ultimately why Thor’s show of indifference toward Loki’s betrayals in Ragnarok is so damn effective – Thor not caring one way or the other is the worst outcome for Loki, and something that drives him to make a change after his plan obviously backfired.)

Another notable aspect of Loki is the degree to which he adheres to narrative roles. In the first Thor, Loki tries to be the hero – the one who kills the monsters and saves Asgard by ending the war with the frost giants, once and for all. This backfires horribly and he’s told that no, he did wrong; he realizes he’s the villain of his story, and then embraces the villainy – because if he’s gonna be the bad guy, then he’s gonna go all out when it comes to filling that role. If he’s the monster, then he’ll be monstrous. So the Loki we see in Avengers has decided that fuck it, if everyone is going to expect the worst of him, then he will be The Worst™, and be it with style. This creates something of a reinforced feedback loop, where Loki acts like a villain, people expect villainy of him, and Loki plays to their expectations.

He gets to break out of that loop in some ways early in Ragnarok, when he’s ‘dead’ and able to change the narrative around himself. As “Odin,” he reshapes his [Loki’s] story into that of a hero, and not a villain. Everyone expects him to be Odin, not Loki, so with no expectations of villainy on him, he behaves…. Well, a bit selfishly, totally hedonistically, and a little negligently, but not particularly villainously or maliciously. He slides back into that villain role for a while on Sakaar (he gets almost performatively villainous when Bruce shows up – I think, again, playing to the expectations of his audience), but then Thor challenges him to do better, to be different, to break out of that role.

Interestingly enough, Loki still adheres to a narrative role at the end, but it’s the one he actually wanted from the start, which is that of ‘Asgard’s Savior’ – the role he wanted when he tricked Laufey, the role he gave himself in his plays, and the way he’s actually wanted to be seen all along. Loki may not want to be a hero for selfless, altruistic reasons – but he does love Asgard, however mixed his feelings are about it, and is willing to risk his life for it. And while he revels at times in playing the villain, performative villainy is more of a consolation prize he gives himself for not being able to enjoy the adulation of heroism. 

Getting back to the idea of Loki not knowing what the hell he wants – ultimately, I think Loki is at his best at the end of Ragnarok because Thor challenges him directly to actually figure out what he wants and who he wants to be. Plus, Loki’s had time to calm down and heal a bit from his earlier traumas, so the betrayal and villainy he exhibits at that point is less of him lashing out in pain and fear, and more just… habit. Breaking that habit becomes a choice he’s given.  

(Side Note: If you want to read some amazing meta-textual exploration of narrative roles vis-a-vis comics!Loki, Loki: Agent of Asgard is an incredible series and well worth checking out.)

So, when it comes to writing Loki – I think a lot of your characterization is going to be dependent on which point of Loki’s story you’re setting your fic in. Thor-era Loki who is having an identity crisis and lashing out near-mindlessly, frightened and angry and desperate to be the hero? Avengers-era Loki, who has decided he’s going to embrace being a monster and wear his monstrosity like armor before anyone can use it against him? Dark World-era Loki, who is bitter and desperate not to be forgotten forever in the bowels of Asgard’s dungeons? Or Ragnarok Loki, who has realized he doesn’t have to be universally reviled and has the ability to change his own story, if he can get the hell out of his own damn way for five minutes?  He goes through a lot of changes, and a lot of different traumas that affect him differently. So considering your setting is important.

Another thing to think about is what does your Loki want, and what does Loki think he wants? A great narrative arc can involve getting Loki to actually realize what his success means, and whether or not he’d find any joy in it (“satisfaction is not in my nature”) – and what, on the other hand, might actually make him happy.

Regarding Loki’s relationships with other characters – you’re right that it’s tricky, what with the walls Loki puts up, and how prickly he can be. Loki’s response to having his trust shattered in Thor was to pretty much quit trusting anybody, so you’ll have to think about how that other character earns his trust. I’ve personally enjoyed playing with the idea of another character rehabilitating Loki by expecting good of him, and leveraging Loki’s tendency to play to expectations in that way. Also, while Loki acts the way people expect him to, he also forms a lot of expectations of others, so keeping him on his toes by letting the characters around him act in ways he doesn’t predict can be a way to get under that armor. Extremes of situation such as dire peril and injury are, of course, other popular tropes for putting a walled-off character in a vulnerable position where their usual defenses are not in play. And when it comes to Loki’s satisfaction (or lack thereof) – Ragnarok Loki, when given the opportunity to play the hero instead of the villain, and the opportunity to be a part of a team instead of going it alone, ultimately seizes that opportunity. I think that speaks to the desire he has, deep down, to be loved and accepted and admired over hated and feared and lonely, which another character in your fic could tap into, with enough patience and persistence. 

Loki’s a complicated mess of a character, whose identity and motivations can be difficult to grasp, largely because his own grasp of them is so tenuous and changeable. But it also makes him a really fascinating and compelling character, with a lot of layers to explore. There’s a lot of ways to interpret him – mine is just one of many interpretations, and certainly not gospel! – and I encourage you to have fun with exploring his psychology and characterization in all its messy glory, in whatever way makes most sense to you.

[imaginethewillyb]

A long time ago before I vanished, @grievers-gunblade​ sent me some headcanon words to mess with.

Instead of some tiny headcanons I decided to roll the three words in one reader-insert/drabble thing. Reader somehow winds up with William has slowly been getting the hang of being a disembodied spirit. Reader has gotten past the "spoopy introduction phase" and is slowly learning about William. But William’s body-jumped to keep people from knowing too much. The reason this ended up taking so long was because 1) Life had been kicking me in the rear. 2) I wasn't sure where to begin. 3) Once I did, I got lost in the sauce.

The result was a series of scraps that didn't have much being held together and could be better edited. I came to a point where I ended up getting stuck on quite a few hitches and couldn’t work my way out of them.

I'm a creatively bankrupt individual. 🤷 Note: This would have fit within Darkside Chronicles and the original RE2. We don’t get to see much characterization in RE 2 remake for William, and I think Annette may have gotten a tad shafted in that as well.

Your life hasn't been the same since that guest made his way into your home. Now he's settled, and you're not sure when he plans on leaving. Thankfully, he isn't as much of a freeloader as you thought he'd be. He'd been jumping from body to body, initially dazed from the events. Being able to bind himself to someone else had been arduous. Verbally reciting viral taxonomy groups in his sleep was effortless. But he never imagined he'd find himself in his current predicament--he, a man who would sooner scoff at the idea of life beyond death. And here he was, humbled and leeching on the common muck. The muck he'd done everything to rise himself from in his youth. William was nothing if not persistent, and this was just one hurdle to overcome. --- It's nice to see a clean kitchen once in a while without your hand in the matter, and it's become frequent as of late. It's just you, so it's difficult to have mountains of dishes piled high when you've got a "house husband" of sorts. You and William have built an odd kind of mutual relationship. You allowed him to tether himself to you, and he takes care of the apartment while you're gone. It also allows him to keep up some amount of sentience and control. All he had left was his mind, and damned if he wasn't going to keep it. He does this as you sleep, thankfully, and it lets you drift into sleep quickly. That means less nights with you waking up to less nightmares where hoards of eyeballs crawling along your arms, and shouts lining your ears. You've found that if he clings to you for too long, you'll become lethargic. His dreams--or his thoughts? You could hardly tell--have bled into Through those surreal flashes, you've been able to piece together William's history--and how he felt until he died. Separating what was fact from memory became far more difficult, because you couldn't sort out where his dreams exaggerated. ---- William was a scientist. You couldn't quite decipher what he worked with, but it must have been important. Watching him grapple with being a ghost does provide you some amusement, but you've been careful not to ruffle his feathers over it too much; the same ghostly hand that cleans can be the same that cleaves, after all. --- From the glimpses of his past you were able to make out, he'd been a prodigy. A walking cliched poindexter with disdain for most people and an insatiable thirst for knowledge. For all his bravado, he didn't seem quite open to telling you where he worked. Otherwise, when he felt like it, he was quite the chatterbox. If he didn't have a task at hand, he tended to be quite opinionated. You could go for days at a time without hearing him, only for him to bicker about your college textbooks being for toddlers. Only you would have the cantankerous science specter whispering answers in your ear only when he felt you had earned them. William Birkin wasn't quite the tutor from Hell, though, and you could feel a swelling in your chest when he felt proud of you. You were in high school by the time he'd already bumped shoulders with some top brass in his field, while you were waiting tables to get by now. You didn't envy him; no status like that didn't come with its own web of sinister plots. ---- You're relieved that William's memories don't affect you too much in your normal grind; seeing his face in the clam chowder going to a customer would have been disconcerting, to put it mildly. What's been more calcified for him incessant for you. His triumphs, his failures..everything he's held close to his--now your chest on occasion--flickers in the back of your mind. William thrived on challenge--and he, in his roundabout way, enjoyed being challenged. Wasting away meant no one to butt heads with, nothing to gripe over and improve. That was evident from his history flashes before you. He had his rivalries, one of them friendly and another less so. Perhaps that had been why he The company he worked for--that word always seems to get suspiciously censored in your visions--had a young child that he could barely stand to share the same room. This girl, no more than twelve, managed to slip under his skin in such a way that you were convinced he'd have gladly buried her alive. William's high-octane spite for her wouldn't have been out of place in a cartoon, really, because its sheer absurdity. However insecure William made you feel, that dwarfed the threat that she posed to him. Alexia Ashford, that was her name. The purple-clad pint-sized terror who surpassed him through her scientific work. Any time his thoughts wandered to her, a magma-like rage coursed through your veins; you've had the occasional onlooker make puzzled as to why you're telling yourself to reign in your spiteful

All this, while having a daughter of his own. For all the hatred he poured on Alexia, you were pleased to know that he was as ever a doting father determined to provide the best for Sherry. As you mull over the picture of William coming together, it dawns on you that you might be sitting on secrets that should have stayed in the grave.

---- Once, there was a time that William would have said there wasn't any majesty in the world. Everything had it's rhythm and rhyme, and that the only alarm should be when chaos came calling. Even then, it only served as a stepping stone for his genius. And chaos did. In the form of a baby. Babies don’t just happen out of thin air, but you’d always thought of him as the type of man who would settle down with a woman only to experiment on the kid. You can’t help but laugh when Scholarly Will shows that vulnerability--he really was a myopic human. He had to hand it to Annie. So determined to see his research through, she worked through pregnancy so that they could make progress with his work. Compromises had to be made, of course. Just as she'd done with him, he'd do in turn with her. He'd been preparing for this moment as he'd done with any experiment. Books to learn from, journals to write in...he expected that he'd have these paternal feelings because that was what some animals did, so he and Annette planned accordingly, down to the scenarios that neither her or Sherry didn't pull through.

When he burst from the waiting room to see Annette clutching little Sherry in her arms, he felt a stirring within him. Eyes just like her mother, with a few golden strands sprouting from her head. He likened her to a defenseless grub. An endearing little grub--but a grub nonetheless. His adorable little grub. Overwhelming joy blossoms in your chest. Goosebumps flush across your skin as a tingling sensation crowns your head. You can see the two of them as clear as day: Annette laid in the hospital bed, weary but vigilant from the ordeal. Sherry was a new life with the world to discover, and feel that sense of wonder. He was set in his rigid ways with little regrets. Perhaps for the better; it made him all the more convinced that his path in life was predetermined. From birth to death, he had his role to play in the grand scheme of life. Even in his youth he had accepted that this would likely be the case, since there had been no other option for him. William confessed to you that he didn't sweat those details one day, as long as he could work on his magnum opus. Maybe he and Annette had been made of unfeeling stone, but Sherry didn’t have to walk their path. ---- Making your way to your sofa in the living room, you see a post-it note with something scribbled on it and a pen.

That's William's handwriting. Even if you've seen it a handful of times before, it still surprises you that William's penmanship was neat. Weren't doctor's supposed to write in chicken-scratch? A pleasant surprise eclipsed by the fact that you no longer felt his presence. He had vanished, and all he had to show was that journal next to the post-it note.

[lunarmoonflowyr]

Moon’s Top Five Games of 2017

I like video games and I like rambling about my thoughts, so why not ramble about my thoughts on my favorite five games that I played this year? 

Number Five: Oxygen Not Included

This game is really, really fucking cool. It’s like if you took Don’t Starve, Rimworld, Minecraft, and they incubated a baby inside The Sims, with Dwarf Fortress as its great-grandpa. You control a colony of Duplicants (also known as “Dupes”, “Dudes”, “Stuplicants”, or “tiny little fuckasses with no survival instinct to speak of”) who wake up underground presumably on an asteroid somewhere in space, and you have to provide for them.

You build them a base and you have to set up food production, plumbing, power, even oxygen generation. As the title states, not even the oxygen is included.

Your Dupes will get sick, they will suffocate, they will starve, they will trap themselves in a chamber of carbon dioxide and you won’t even realize it until it’s too late.

One way or another, you’re gonna restart over and over and over again until you finally get that one run of good luck with all the right resources and you build your base just right, and you feel so confident that you’re on the road to infinite self-sustenance….and then one of your Dupes will construct a block right where another Dupes head happens to be, causing them to suffocate to death.

Oh well.

Number Four: The Binding of Isaac: Afterbirth+

Is this one cheating? I feel like this one is cheating. It’s a DLC for a game that came out in 2014, which was basically a redo/remaster of a game that came out way back in 2011.

But I have almost 400 hours clocked into this stupid thing and that’s just the online hours that Steam recorded, so dammit I’m taking the excuse to talk about it.

I love The Binding of Isaac: Rebirth. It’s one of my favorite time sinks of a video game, and it’s one of my go-to premier examples of the Roguelike genre. It’s skillful, it’s varied, the gameplay is solid and the creativity in design is staggering.

It’s also got some solid humor (even if some of it is really gross when you think about it.) and some really, really hilarious interactions between items. It won’t happen often, but every once in a while you’ll stumble upon a combination that will just straight up break the game and make you completely overpowered.

Or you’ll just literally break the game and cause it to crash.

Afterbirth+ added official modding capabilities, a new final floor with a pretty tough big boss, several new items, bosses, and an entirely new character. And with the dev team continuously adding official “booster packs” of content, The Binding of Isaac continues to be my favorite roguelike that just keeps on giving me new reasons to sit down and spend an hour shooting tears at poop.

Number Three: Pokemon Ultra Moon

I love the Pokemon franchise as anyone who knows me is aware of, and the seventh generation of Pokemon is one of my favorites.

While I doubt any core Pokemon game will ever eclipse Pokemon Platinum, the game which I hold as the highest point of Pokemon overall, Pokemon Sun and Moon came far, FAR closer than its predecessor generation of X and Y.

Pokemon Ultra Sun and Ultra Moon aren’t quite remakes, not quite sequels, they’re just...there, as alternate versions of Sun and Moon. But I think they exceed Sun and Moon in terms of quality, even if they’re overall just the same games with the nipples tweaked a bit.

The surprisingly large amount of random new features and quality-of-life changes, to say nothing of the major story differences, in USUM make them not only worth the price of admission, in my opinion, but I’d even recommend playing them instead of Sun and Moon if you haven’t played those already.

Number Two: Dead Cells

“Gosh Alice, you sure do like Roguelikes!” you might be saying as you notice a third roguelike in my top five.

And yes! Yes I do enjoy Roguelikes, but you know what I love more than Roguelikes? Dark Souls. So what do you get when you mix Soulsborne-esque combat and roguelike elements? A damn good game, that’s what.

Dead Cells pits you against some seriously bullshit odds a lot of the time, because no matter how many points I sink into health I swear to god the late-game enemies always two or three-shot me, but you also have so many opportunities to unlock a bonkers-busted combo with the sheer amount of equipment variety and synergies present in the game.

The combat is tight most of the time, although if you aren’t relying on grenades to clear your way through you’ll find the controls a bit sticky when juggling more than two enemies at once, and I can’t tell you how many times I’ve done a ground-pound into spikes that were off screen at the time, but it is immensely satisfying to get a feeling of flow going as you decimate enemy after enemy leaving a trail of pixelated gore in your wake.

But of course this is a Souls-inspired game we’re talking about, and that means that for every adrenaline-pumping triumph there are several dozen cruel punches to the dick that send you right back to Square One.

Still a fun game though.

Number One: Hollow Knight

And speaking of Dark Souls inspirations, my number one game of 2017 is Hollow Knight.

I have a huge pet peeve in gaming, and that pet peeve is people saying “Oh, X is just like Dark Souls!”. Because 9 out of 10 times, they’re using the wrong metric to measure a game against Dark Souls.

Most of the time, people use Dark Souls as a metric for game difficulty, which is completely ridiculous and leads to comparisons that make absolutely no sense except for a few very broad strokes. Like, I’ve seen people comparing Dark Souls to Cuphead for christs sake. Cuphead. Not every difficult game is “just like Dark Souls” just because it expects you to have two brain cells to rub together!

So with that in mind, when I tell you that Hollow Knight is extremely reminiscent of Dark Souls, I’m using that comparison properly.

Hollow Knight is depressing, dark, filled with grimy visuals and aesthetics and is about as open with its story as a safe in Fort Knox.

Hollow Knight is part of the genre of game coined as “Metroidvania”, characterized by lots of open-ended exploration and combat propelled by varying movement abilities that you unlock over time to progressively and organically open up more and more of the game world. And, in my personal opinion, Hollow Knight is the greatest Metroidvania game of all time.

Does it do anything new or unique or innovative with the gameplay? Does it have a unique selling point to make it stand out from the sea of other Metroidvania games populating the Steam library lately?

No. Not really. And that’s where its strength truly lies.

Team Cherry forgos innovation for innovation's sake and instead takes the tried-and-true elements of the Metroidvania genre and polishes them to a mirror sheen. The combat is slick and controls well, even with the lack of any sort of dodge or block mechanic. The movement feels finely tuned and the platforming puzzles are challenging without feeling too punishing or unfair. And the exploration is just as twisty, winding, and backtracky as you’d expect, but it never gets boring or uninteresting. This is very much helped by the soundtrack, which is one of my favorites of all time, ranking up there with Bastion and Halo in terms of quality and memorability.

It’s hard to get bored walking through the introductory areas over and over again when the visuals are so stunning and the music attributed with them is so masterful and absorbing, as well as the fact that moving around gets pretty fun once you’ve unlocked a larger number of movement abilities.

By focusing on polishing what has already been proven, Hollow Knight is free to doll itself up in other areas, namely the setting. The absolutely gorgeous hand-drawn art style suits the world of Hollow Knight quite well as you explore the ruined and dilapidated bug kingdom of Hallownest, slaying its infected habitants and trying to piece together the story of this once-bustling city.

The setting and aesthetic of Hollow Knight is what truly sets it apart from the other games of this year, as it marries perfectly polished Metroidvania combat and exploration with an aesthetic that manages to be both dirty and depressing but also serene and calming at the same time.

Hollow Knight is easily my Game of the Year for 2017 and has firmly placed itself in my personal Hall of Fame as one of my favorite games of all time, sitting comfortably alongside Pokemon Platinum, The World Ends With You, Borderlands 2, and Life is Strange.

[thesinglesjukebox]

LOONA / ODD EYE CIRCLE - GIRL FRONT [8.12] Next up, a frenzied, fizzy mystery...

Mo Kim: As it nears the end of its eighteen-month rollout, the LOONA project has grown from a series of self-contained solo releases into a universe-bending mythos which grows more complex by the second, left for fans to piece together via close analysis of meticulously-arranged videos (often with cameos), promotional graphics, press releases, and cryptic URLs referencing Mobius strips. It's to the credit of the group, however, that the music has remained its foundation: whether revealing Choerry's ability to jump between dimensions via a well-placed drop in "Love Cherry Motion" or making a 180 from the sweeter concepts of the first few members with KimLip's sultry "Eclipse," Blockberry Creative has been just as ambitious with their songs as they have with every other dimension of their unfolding multimedia narrative. Even if you didn't know anything about LOONA or Odd Eye Circle (its second subunit), "Girl Front" would still knock you off your feet like a late-summer breeze. Its Max Martin-esque melange of synthlines and sticky beats (with a generous sampling of contemporary sonic trends, especially the ominous trap-tinged coda following each chorus) distills driving down the 101 in Los Angeles with your windows down into as perfect a road trip song as I've heard. Yet there's something about the surrounding context that takes the drama of a budding romance and blows it up to inter-dimensional proportions. As the girls trade lines on the chorus about a budding romance that "makes things hotter" and "makes them draw closer," a massive mix of beat-em-up synths and hard-hitting beats wallops you with the force of an asteroid: one feels as if they could be singing about their own impact. The verses filter in bits of plucky guitar and sunny piano chords that the production leaves sounding just a touch haunted, like the cassette player which opens and closes the video. Even the one moment the song lets up, in a bridge that registers with the clarity of a daybreak, turns its wistful gaze back on us in what may be my favorite musical moment of 2017: the three members of Odd Eye Circle, finally united after four months of twists and teasers, stare lovingly into a tri-colored moon in the sky, tinged with each of their representative colors (red, blue, and purple). Composers Ollipop and Hayley Aitken cruelly let the swelling synth melody that's been looping in the background for the entire song step to the forefront for just three measures before killing it with a well-placed record scratch. On screen, the girls turn in unison and break the fourth wall, staring right into your souls: if you think this is the end, think again. Instead of easy resolution, they leave us in their final chorus with a promise: "I'll say I love you first." I'm always left wondering, at the end, what is really there. I question the irony of becoming infatuated with a song about infatuation, about how the "love" in "love song" can work like gravity, pulling you towards becoming the person you've fallen for. Maybe I spent most of 2017 buried in LOONA because, in the simplest terms, it tells a story of possibility: a girl can become any concept she puts on; can find her place in the music and the mythology; can stitch together the worlds she occupies. Return to the title of "Girl Front"; "Front" because, as the theory goes, Mobius strips enchant you in loops you circle with purpose but without end; "Front" because an empowered girl makes it happen herself. The cassette player, a signpost for our nostalgia, refuses to give us an answer, rewinding instead, and in an year that constantly challenged me to think through my place in the world, the message feels clear: you're getting closer. Keep listening.    [10]

Maxwell Cavaseno: As the LOONAverse proceeds far off into its cosmic spiral, their seemingly esoteric design evolves against tunes that feel more and more plunging away from the preceding singles and their reaches for star power into something more star-struck. "Girl Front" is a galloping rush of enthusiasm and excitement as Choerry, Kim Lip and JinSoul eagerly manage to pitch infatuation like fastballs offset by those real clunker 'drops' aiming for I guess some sort of 'hipness' that ever since "Eclipse" the poor girls have been burdened with having to appeal to (which is ever overwhelmingly pointed on fellow LOONAffiliate Yves' "new" but that's another tale), and tend to detract from the record. But the winding melody on the chorus' "woo" or the sudden shift into the dubstep-stomp along for Kim Lip on the second verse are the moments when "Girl Front" can not only sound urgent but utterly world-departing. [8]

Ryo Miyauchi: For a single not-so-slickly tucking in self-reference, it makes sense the production also picks the the best bits from each of the summer LOONAs' solo singles: the devilish sweetness of "Love Cherry Motion," the zigzagging of "Singing in the Rain," the breathtaking grace of "Eclipse." The trio get upstaged by the production despite their best efforts to introduce their individual personalities, but really, what a dazzling beat to get lost in. [6]

Leonel Manzanares: K-Pop that sounds like it takes serious cues from the #weirdsoundcloud scene. The post-chorus breaks could feel at home on a de-constructed club mix, and the synth risers, in the transition from the bridge to the final hook, could make Myles Dunhill green with envy. LOONA was the most interesting Korean project of 2017, and their brilliance lies not only in their versatility but in the quality of the execution. They've given each of their members their own sonic and visual little universe, and each release has been scarily consistent. I have big expectations for them in 2018.  [8]

Edward Okulicz: How this song turns on a dime so frequently from amazing K-pop banger, to different kind of amazing K-pop banger, to a part that convinces you the whole thing is going to turn into a god damned trap song suggests a complete mastery and love of pop as an artform. I don't think listening to it could possibly be as fun as it was making it, but it's probably pretty close. [9]

Nortey Dowuona: Glittering, shiny synths and light, puffy eyed bass spread out with blank droning synths and flat drums that become rigid and stuffy around the side. Plus the singing by Loona and the Odd Eye Circle seems both too light and yet too heavy. [6]

Alex Clifton: The best bubblegum pop feels innocuous at first, but comes out of nowhere to hit you square in the brain. "Girl Front" is sparkling and light overall, but that chorus is a knockout and is definitely going to be stuck in my head for the rest of the day. It's the kind of song I know I would have played to death when I was fifteen and unable to talk to most people I liked, but I also like it at twenty-five because it gives me the sugary rush that I need from pop music. I've not been following LOONA's formation entirely, but if this is how good their subunits are, I'm ready to be wowed by the whole band in 2018. [8]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Shortly after the release of Odd Eye Circle's "Sweet Crazy Love," Digipedi director Seong Wonmo noted that he had intentionally included Korean-language signs in its music video. K-pop always looked to the pop culture of the West, he said, studying and imitating it in numerous ways. As a director, there was a sense that he shouldn't let Hangul appear in any frame--it would, after all, only make the content seem more "foreign." But it's 2017, and with K-pop's ever-expanding global presence, Seong finally felt comfortable with doing just that (note that this was ten years into the career of an already-legendary figure of the industry). When I read his comments, I thought about where I was ten years ago, and how much I related to what he was saying. As one of five Asians in an otherwise all-White high school, I had made subconscious efforts to be "just one of the (White) guys." But as I started learning about K-pop, I also started to take some pride in being Korean. I wouldn't dare tell my White friends about Wonder Girls or Big Bang, but I would tell them about some Korean music that seemed less embarrassing to mention. I will never forget, for example, how excited I was to show off my copy of Seo Taiji's 7th Issue to a friend--as we sat in class, I watched as he examined the album's unique packaging, and I eagerly awaited his opinions on the album's pop punk/emo songs. Years later, I'm constantly gushing about Korean music to non-Koreans, and K-pop has played an enormous role in helping me come to terms with--and eventually love--my Korean-American identity. That Seong specifically decided to show Hangul in a LOONA video is appropriate. More than any other group this year, they represented the best of what the K-pop industry had to offer in terms of engaging pop songs and their promotion. Subunit Odd Eye Circle's music was especially noteworthy; their mini album featured the incredible Art Angels-indebted "Loonatic" and an R&B song that most boy bands would kill for. The best of the bunch was "Girl Front," the lead single that took everything good about the members' solo tracks and morphed it into something more ambitious. At its core, it's a chipper pop song about being infatuated with someone, but what sets it apart is the degree to which every bit of instrumentation captures the manic frenzy of wanting to tell someone you love them. Producer Ollipop was wise to bury the arpeggiating synths low in the mix, allowing them to mimic the fluttering hearts that characterize such situations. What ties everything together, though, is the chorus. The girls initially state that they're "cool," emphasizing it with a wavering vocal melody that hops along briskly. It's immediately followed by a sultry coo that's meant to resemble the sound of their heart--an admittance of how they're actually feeling. It's considerably smoother than what preceded it, and shamelessly long. But they're not denying how they feel anymore, and they'll happily let their crush consume their thoughts. What makes "Girl Front" so heartening is that it isn't content with things ending there; this is a song that's about mustering up the strength to confess to someone that you love them. And as the song progresses, there's an "opening up" of sounds to reflect this. The first verse has flickering synths that are halted by a bass guitar, as well as a vocal melody akin to those in the chorus that abruptly ends. But in the second verse, relatively "natural"-sounding keys stand in place of their punchy counterparts. There's also a sleek mid-verse shift that registers as sensual, and it all leads into the girls shouting "woo!" before entering the chorus again. By the time "Girl Front" ends, they declare their intent to express their feelings to this person directly. We don't know if they actually will, but things look hopeful. Sometimes, the best thing you can do to keep moving forward--to get yourself to do things that seem impossible--is to constantly remind yourself of the things that make you happy. In "Girl Front," it's an overflow of desire for this person that helps them reach a point where they can say "I Love You." It turns out that listening to K-pop was a way for me to eventually say the same thing to myself. [10]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

[ghrecords]

A concept of “conceptlessness” was created at that time from a spontaneous idea (many thought it was an April Fool’s joke when the Einstürzende Neubauten first stood on the stage at Berlin’s “Moon” on April 1, 1980; more than 35 years ago), from which the “brilliant dilettantes” developed their own strategy against social and musical architecture using metal pipes, feathers and machines. In keeping, Blixa Bargeld constructed metaphor-laden poetry, around which unique worlds of sound were built up from objects of the most varied origins. The band discovered sounds beyond the pain barrier, the beauty of dissonance and the aesthetics of the scrapyard.

They are regarded as the most important engines in the development of new musical strategies. Hardly another German band has characterized the music landscape as lastingly as EINSTÜRZENDE NEUBAUTEN. Their influence on the music world was and is as great as their timeless character.

How to continue? Not because one can or because one must, but because one does. The title track of Einstürzende Neubauten’s 2004 album said it right: Perpetuum Mobile. Once fully set in motion – by West Berliners Blixa Bargeld and NU Unruh and Alexander Hacke in the early 1980s – Einstürzende Neubauten have pressed on regardless. Indeed since percussionist Rudolf Moser and former Die Haut guitarist Jochen Arbeit joined 19 years ago, the Einstürzende Neubauten line-up has not only been their longest lasting; going on the evidence gathered here, it’s arguably their broadest ranging and most fruitful partnership, with Rudi and Jochen always gamely responding to the musical challenges posed by NU Unruh’s battery of invented instruments and devices. Along with multi-instrumentalist Alex Hacke, who took over bass after the departure of Mark Chung (after their 1992 album Tabula Rasa) and FM Einheit (during the recording of 1996’s Ende Neu), they willingly switch between their chosen instruments and NU Unruh’s inventions, sounding the depths, tapping, scratching and hammering out beats, or drawing haunting tones from the seemingly most ungiving of source materials presented to them, invariably in the service of the song. And how does the song go? “We didn’t die”, sings Blixa, “we‘re just singing a different song”. “The difference”, he goes on to clarify, “is in the song”.

The song in question, “How Did I Die?”, comes from Lament, Einstürzende Neubauten’s 2014 soundtrack to a specially commissioned live performance by the Belgian Flemish town of Diksmuide to mark the centenary of its fall to German troops at the outbreak of the First World War. It might be steeped in the history of catastrophe but it’s also the newest track on Greatest Hits, the compilation album named after the special shows they’ve been touring the world with these past few years, initially while they were researching and preparing Lament for its Belgian premiere performance.

The music for those Greatest Hits shows was largely drawn from the last 27 years, and then most all of it created by their current longest lasting line-up. The earliest track here, however, is a newly mixed version of “Haus Der Lüge”, the title track of their 1989 album Haus Der Lüge; except it’s now adorned with freshly recorded trombone and string parts, which the group wanted on the original but couldn’t afford, so had to use synth simulations instead. 1993’s Tabula Rasa is represented by two tracks, “Die Interimsliebenden” and “Salamandrina”. It’s the last album to feature bass player Mark Chung, who joined in 1981 shortly after FM Einheit, aka Mufti, while they were both members of the Hamburg punk group Abwärts. Mufti himself left during the recording of 1996’s Ende Neu, and he doesn’t actually feature on Greatest Hits’ opening track “The Garden”, the first line of which was inspired by an English woman overheard by Blixa: “If you want me you will find me in the garden/Unless it’s pouring down with rain”.

Here begins proper the phantasmagoric journeys documented on Greatest Hits, taking Einstürzende Neubauten – so the song goes – to the banks of all four rivers and the spring of consciousness, through all four seasons while waiting for the apple to fall. And the music they’ve made on those journeys has reflected those changing seasons, responding to the changing times, refracting those hard knocks. Five tracks are taken from their 2000 album Silence Is Sexy: “Sabrina”, “Sonnenbarke”, “Total Eclipse Of The Sun”, “Redukt” and “Die Befindlichkeit Des Landes”. , Translating as “The Lay Of The Land”, “Die Befindlichkeit Des Landes” also featured in Einstürzende Neubauten’s melancholic soundtrack to Hubertus Siegert’s Berlin Babylon, a 2001 documentary about the changing face of the purportedly unified city since the November 1989 fall of the Cold War-built Wall dividing it since 1961. The ten minute piece “Redukt”, meanwhile, has become a live favourite, long ago replacing the early Einstürzende Neubauten staple “Sehnsucht”, both as a showcase for the group’s extraordinary capacity for invention, and as a vent for the emotions accumulated over the course of a concert.

During the 2000s, Einstürzende Neubauten’s resourcefulness extended beyond the stage and the recording studio into the economics of alternative music practice. In response to the worldwide decline of the record industry, neubauten.org webmaster (and Blixa’s wife) Erin Zhu proposed a new working model based on the close relationship built up between the group and their fans. Her business plan provided Einstürzende Neubauten the means to bypass the ever more controlling music industry and continue down their own path, as indeed they always have done. Two Greatest Hits tracks, “Dead Friends (Around The Corner)” and “Ein Leichtes Leises Säuseln”, originated on their Supporters Album #1, which in publicly modified form became Perpetuum Mobile (Mute, 2004). Something like 2000 supporters financially pledged their faith in Einstürzende Neubauten two more times, for which they received Grundstück (2005) as their first dividend, followed by a special supporters’ version of the self-released Alles Wieder Offen (Potomak, 2007). The latter provides the following three tracks to Greatest Hits: Einstürzende Neubauten’s playful homage to early 20th century’s dada pranksters “Let’s Do It A Da Da”, “Susej” and “Nagorny Karabach”.

The last named is a simultaneously haunting and heartbreakingly beautiful psychogeographical piece that stands as one of Einstürzende Neubauten’s greatest album hits. As the song indicates, they have taken more than a few hard knocks, bumps and glitches on the way, but there’s no stopping them now.

Now as then as always, declares Greatest Hits’ aforementioned newest track “How Did I Die?”, “The difference makes the song”.

Buy: http://gh-records.com/1632-einsturzende-neubauten-greatest-hits.html

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