#this is my magnum opus nothing i ever make will matter more than me FINALLY making a NM graphic.............in honor of NM oneshot day...

[robertodacosta]

But there was so much love in that room. All of us New Mutants from such different places, such different worlds. And in that moment, I realized these were my friends. We belonged there. We could belong there.

[animebw]

Short Reflection: Attack on Titan Final Season (Parts 1 and 2)

It’s hard to believe Attack on Titan is almost over.

I still remember all the way back in 2013, when one of my brother’s friends showed me the first episode of this weird thing called an “anime.” I was completely unfamiliar with the medium back then, unless you count dubbed Pokemon and Ghibli movies, and I had no idea what to make of something so radically different from the stuff I was used to in Western media. But even though I didn’t actually watch AOT until many years later, that first episode lingered in my mind. The imagery, the music, the electrifying visual storytelling, the vision of a dark fantasy world unlike anything I’d seen before, the sheer majestic brutality of Eren’s mom being eaten... even back then, I could tell there was something special about this show. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on, but remained like a whisper at the back of my mind. You’ll return to me eventually, it seemed to say. It’s only a matter of time.

Flash forward almost a decade later. I’ve been watching anime regularly for over four years. I’ve discovered masterpieces that have blown me away, stories that have changed the way I look at media, experiences that have made my life infinitely richer. I have fallen in love with an artistic medium capable of truly dizzying heights, explored it from every conceivable angle, and still find new things to delight me. Anime is special to me, and I could not be more thankful for the journey it’s taken me on.

And almost ten years since that first episode creeped into my mind... I am still enthralled by Attack on Titan.

It has been a long decade for Hajime Isayama’s magnum opus. In the time since its first episode exploded into the public consciousness, Attack on Titan has grown so much that it barely resembles the beast it began as. Beloved characters have died, or changed so much that the people they once were are now little more than distant memories. The world we thought we understood has revealed itself to be far more bitter and cruel than we realized. Countless times, our understanding of even what this show was has been flipped on its head or smashed into dust. And the culture of anime itself has shifted just as drastically, ballooning to sizes that previous generations of fans must have thought impossible. Anime today is no longer a niche hobby for weird nerds: it’s one of the single grandest forces in the global market, with franchises and characters and iconography as recognizable as anything from the Marvel Cinematic Universe. And Attack on Titan, time and time again, has stood at the vanguard of that change. It’s the single most popular entry on both MAL and Anilist, a property so mainstream that it’s talked about in the same breath as Game of Thrones and The Walking Dead. Anime fandom’s explosive growth and mainstreaming can be explained in large part by how fucking popular this show has been. It created a space for anime to thrive in the west like nothing else, and it’s maintained the boundary-smashing power even through all its many jaw-dropping evolutions. There has never been a show like Attack on Titan, and there likely won’t be again for a very long time.

And in just one year, marking basically an exact decade since its first episode aired... it will finally be over.

It’s hard to think of an anime landscape without Attack on Titan. Ever since I’ve known about anime had a concept, this show has stood at its forefront. Love it, hate it, don’t care about it, no one can deny how much this show has defined anime for so long. But in just one short year, we will enter a world where we no longer have more Attack on Titan to look forward to. No more dizzying ODM-gear action scenes. No more utterly vicious gore and suffering. No more haunting portrayals of the horrors of war, both physical and psychological. No more gut-wrenching moral dilemmas that force us to choose the better of two terrible options. No more jaw-dropping twists to completely reshape our understanding of the story. No more Levi and Mikasa being the world’s biggest badasses. No more Armin thinking his way out of a desperate situation. No more Zeke. No more Conny. No more Jean. No more Hange. No more Eren Yeager. Pretty soon, all that Attack on Titan will ever be... will be. And we’ll have no choice but to be okay with that.

If it seems like I’m front-loading this review with tons of setup, well, that’s because I am. I’ve never been good at editing my long, sprawling streams of thought even at the best of times. But the reason I’m spending so long talking about Attack on Titan without, well, talking about Attack on Titan, is to help you understand the context I bring with me into this “final” season (By which I mean the first two parts of the now three-part “final” season.Pro tip: don’t label something the “final” of anything unless you’re actually sure it’s the last entry.) I cannot simply approach this show as I do most other anime, because Attack on Titan is not most other anime. It carries the weight of an entire generation on its back, so many memories and expectations and fans new and old. This show has presence. It has a legacy.

And as of this final season?

Well, as of this final season, Attack on Titan has officially become legend.

There’s a lot of reasons why, but most of them come back to the absolutely brilliant basement twist that capped off season 3, and how its revelations reverberate throughout the story from then on. When you look at Attack on Titan on a grand scale, one of the most impressive things about it is how well it grew from a seemingly simple tale of killing big monsters to a difficult, complex world where heroes and monsters are often just a matter of perspective. With each new layer of mystery unraveled, it’s become harder and harder to truly see anyone as wholly doing the right thing. And the reveal of Marley and Eldia, and everything that comes with it, is the moment where that thorny complexity gives way to full-on deconstructive fury. It turns out, these titans we were initially told to think of as mindless killing machines are actually victims of an explicitly Holocaust-esque ethnic genocide, and all this time we’ve been rooting for the protagonists to slaughter their oppressed kinsmen because both we and them bought into in-universe propaganda perpetuated by this world’s version of the Nazis. Gotcha.

It is, without question, one of the cruelest moments in any piece of media I’ve ever experienced. Forget just twisting the knife, this reveal takes the initial premise of Attack on Titan itself and punishes us for believing it. Suddenly, the rah-rah-kill-all-the-big-things edgy action spree we thought we were signing up for reveals itself to be a condemnation of that kind of mindless violence. Suddenly, we’re forced to confront the raw brutality of killing for killing’s sake. Suddenly, we’re forced to take a cold, hard look at the way that society dehumanizes those it believes shouldn’t exist, how rhetoric and media alike can reinforce the idea that some people just deserve to die because of who they are. In this one moment, Attack on Titan reveals that the true, ultimate evil our protagonists must overcome is, well, itself. Or rather, the show it was pretending to be. From now on, Eren and his friends aren’t fighting a mindless horde of monsters that deserve to be slaughtered; now, they’re fighting the forces that made them believe that mindless horde existed in the first place.

And the final season takes that subversion and runs with it. After a four-year timeskip, we kick things off not with our usual band of titan-hunting scouts, but with the people of Marley, the country that oppresses their people. We see how propaganda warps and twists the ordinary people of this country. We see how it molds eager children like Gabi into bigoted zealots willing to slaughter those they believe to be devils for the glory of their motherland. We see how the oppressed Eldians fall prey to its manipulations as well, cursing their bretherin on the far-off island of Paradis for supposedly carrying the sins of all their race. We see how no one, not even reluctant soldiers like Falco, is unaffected by the lies their country has fed them all their lives. And, most importantly of all, we see how those delusions hurt Marley as well, how these ordinary people’s lives are twisted into nightmares of violence and viciousness at the behest of leaders who will never have to suffer the same horrors. Marley the political regime may be monstrous, but Marley the nation is made up of people. People who, just like the people of Paradis, just like us in the audience, were made to believe lies that turn them against their fellow man, made to see them as nothing more than monsters in need of extermination.

In short, what we quickly come to understand is that the world of Attack on Titan is a world where there is to true villain to face. Yet, the Marleyan government is certainly corrupt and fascist, but even if they were overthrown in a flash, the hatred that years of war and propaganda have fostered in its people will remain. You can’t slaughter bigotry with ODM gear, you can’t shoot bloodlust in the head, and there are no arch-villains you can take down to end the pain of centuries of atrocities. The enemy is no single person, or even one society: it’s the concept of hatred itself, in all the cancerous, intimate ways it manifests in the human heart and soul. It’s hatred borne from lies, and the atrocities those lies perpetuate throughout the ages. A kills B, B’s friends kill A in vengeance, A’s friends retaliate in turn, and on and on the blood spills from generation to generation until no one even remembers what they were fighting for in the first place. All that remains is the sins themselves, endlessly perpetuating until, someone, anyone, finds the courage to stand up and say enough.

But it’s easy enough to say that the cycle of vengeance must stop. It’s much harder to be the one to stop it when it’s all you’ve ever known. And over the course of Attack on Titan season 4 (as I’ll henceforth call it), we see how no one is safe from the endless tides of violence. Characters we’ve come to love and trust commit horrific acts in retaliation for the pain they’ve suffered. Characters who perform detestable deeds reveal themselves to be sympathetic, even noble in their aims. Good intentions give way to cruel outcomes, hard choices only make the rivers of blood run blacker, and everyone’s hands end up stained by evil. I can’t remember the last time I watched a show that was so willing to let its characters- characters that a fanbase has spent years falling in love with- do such terrible things and make such impossible choices. Whoever your waifu or husbando is, they are now a war criminal with sins on their conscience that may never be able to wash clean.

Nowhere is this better portrayed than Gabi, one of AOT’s best characters of all time. Gabi is a child who fully buys into her country’s lies, and she does some truly heinous things in support of those lies. But it’s clear that in her mind, she’s every bit the unquestionable hero we once saw Eren and his friends as. The things she does to hurt the people we care about are no different than many of the things they did, atrocities committed unknowingly thanks to the blinders placed over their eyes. Had this show begun in Marley, and only showed us their perspective? We would’ve hailed Gabi as a hero, and cursed the island devils just as hard as she does. Because we are all victims of the sins we never knew existed; all that’s changed now is that which side is doing the killing. Gabi is no more a monster than the people she kills; she’s just a child who was never given a chance to see the world beyond the lies she was fed. But once she’s finally ripped from her comfort zone and forced to confront the truth of what’s going on and what she’s become? Then her slow, agonizing crawl back to humanity becomes the beating heart not just of this season, but arguably of the entire show. Gabi, in all her painful, unforgivable mistakes, represents the hope that when the dust finally settles and the killing is finally over, the children we leave behind can forge a better path than the one we laid for them. She is the symbol of the better future that, against all odds, we must believe is still possible.

Because what is there left to fight for, without hope?

Well, without hope, I imagine you’d end up a bit like Eren Yeager.

I’ve always had a deep, abiding love for Eren. Even back in earlier seasons when most people dismissed him as a shouty idiot, I saw the hidden depths beneath his raw, aching surface that clawed their way further into the light the longer the show went on. But even I wasn’t prepared for how fully season 4 would commit to letting Eren become the person he was always destined to be. Here, the relentless, furious boy who promised to slaughter everyone who stood between him and freedom has grown into a man with the power to make that dream come true and the perspective to understand just how much blood it’s going to leave on his hands. But unlike his friends, who still desperately cling to any possibility they can grasp in the thick mud of despair, he no longer sees any way forward but to plunge headfirst into hell. Let the world burn to ash and humanity curse his name; Eren Yeager will seize his freedom. And just as he vowed all those years ago when he watched his mother die in front of him, there is nothing, nothing, nothing that will stand in his way.

This is always who Eren has been. This willingness to stop at nothing, no matter how many people must suffer for it, has been the darkness swirling within him since the beginning. All that’s changed now is the scale upon which he can pursue that goal... and the understanding of everything he must destroy in order to achieve it. At once tragic and terrifying, unforgivable and understandable, the embodiment of all the world’s hatred and in direct opposition to it, Eren Yeager has grown into one of my favorite anime characters of all time. Call him a fallen hero, a sympathetic villain, an irredeemable monster, or however you see fit to judge him; the weight of his choices speaks for itself. Never before in anime has a protagonist so perfectly switched places to become a main antagonist without ever really changing at all. And never before has a character left me so broken with every choice they make, eternally torn between condemning him and pitying him for the path he’s chosen. Perhaps in a better world, a kinder world, things may have never come to this. But they have, and now we have no choice but to face that agony head-on before it decides the world’s fate for us.

Because the end is coming. Whether we’re ready for it or not, the end of Eren’s journey- and the end of Attack on Titan- will arrive soon. Frankly, I have no idea what to expect; with how desperate the situation has gotten, there’s no telling how things will finally shake out. And I doubt any prediction I make would even come close.

What I do know is this: ever since I started watching Attack on Titan, I feel like I’ve been waiting with baited breath for the moment it all finally falls apart. This roller-coaster ride of a show has been so breakneck at points, so overwhelming and ferocious, that it feels like it can’t possibly survive much longer. Sooner or later, some screw is gonna come lose and the whole thing is gonna crash and burn in a spectacular dumpster fire. Even now, with manga fans complaining to everyone in earshot that the manga ending is the worst thing to happen to humanity since Hitler, part of me still is still anticipating disaster.

But here’s something else I know: every single time I’ve come back to Attack on Titan, those fears have been proven wrong.

I thought there was no way season 2 would be able to recapture the shock-and-awe brilliance of the first season after a four-year gap. Instead, I was given a smarter, more tightly focused story that truly drove home the complexity and weight this series was capable of.

I thought season 3 would suffer from switching focus to fighting humans. Instead, the political revolution arc delivered some of the most jaw-dropping action setpieces yet.

I thought there was no way the basement reveal would live up to all the hype. Instead, the reveal catapulted the story into a level of brilliance I didn’t even realize was possible.

I thought that with the final season switching studios and heading into completely uncharted territory, it couldn’t possibly follow up on the promise of that twist. Instead, I was plunged headfirst into the best, most gripping material of the entire series.

So you know what? Fuck it. I’m done being scared of Attack on Titan going off the rails. I’m done anticipating disaster when this show has proven itself to me time and time again. Every time I doubt AOT’s ability to last, it comes back stronger and surer than ever before. And frankly, judging by the kinds of things the salty manga fans are complaining about (”Waaaaah too much comedy! Waaaaah not enough grimdark! Waaaaaaaah the show isn’t praising Eren for the terrible things he’s trying to do!”), I’m starting to doubt I can trust their word on the matter. I don’t know how Attack on Titan will end, but at this point, I trust Isayama to land this plane just as explosively and beautifully as he began it. What other choice could I make, after everything this show has given me?

In just one more year, marking a full decade since it began, Attack on Titan will end. It leaves behind it one of the grandest legacies in modern fiction, anime or otherwise. It revolutionized a medium, it mainstreamed a culture, it maintained success through years of constant evolution. And to this day, it remains, on its own merits, one of the most astonishing works of art to ever come out of anime. It’s an epic tale of war and violence, pain and forgiveness, cycles of vengeance and children lost in the woods. a vision of the horrors of hatred so raw it’s almost suffocating. It’s an action spectacle second to none and a deep, powerful drama about the people behind that spectacle. It’s an uncompromising journey through the most unforgiving parts of humanity, and yet it never fails to be entertaining- and even hopeful- in pursuit of those painful truths. It’s a triumph the likes of which we almost never see, and likely never will again for many years to come. And I cannot wait to see how the curtain finally falls.

Until then, though? I award season 4, as it were, a score of:

10/10

To think, this is one of the longest reviews I’ve ever written and I somehow didn’t even find space to fit in a comparison between Studio Wit and Mappa’s productions. So real quick, while I have the space; I still think Wit’s look was definitive for AOT, and Mappa’s grungier look can’t really hold a candle to Wit’s lush, sensory-overload portrayal of this world and the chaos within it. That said, while I think the first part of this season struggles to figure out its visual identity, I think part 2 is where Mappa figured out how to make their style work, and while it’s still not as good as Wit imo, it absolutely kills where it needs to and delivers some truly powerful cinematic storytelling on a pretty consistent basis. You can’t ask for much more than that.

[gentlemancrow]

idk if you’re still taking requests so no pressure but maybe jmart 18 about jon’s scars? or,,, honestly however you wanna interpret that lol

Hehe bet you thought you weren't getting one. But of COURSE you're getting one! <3 HERE YOU GO!! Sorry it is late I am not a fast writer haha! This was a VERY interesting one to interpret and I got a little wonky and metaphysical there for a bit WHICH I LOVE and THE IDEA MIGHT HAVE BEEN A BIT LONG FOR A DRABBLE BUT! It's soft and I'm soft and I enjoyed this one SO SO MUCH ; w ; I hope you do too!!

Jon had Seen enough. Martin had decided that long ago. He had witnessed enough, been forced to witness enough, been the vessel into which literally everything had funneled into in an unrelenting typhoon of unspeakable, unfathomable horrific knowledge comprehensible only to him long enough that he damn well deserved the luxury of imperception. He had earned the right to not notice when Martin accidentally bought the wrong brand of chai, the one he insisted tasted like someone rubbed a stick of cinnamon on plasterboard and jammed it in a cardamom pod, but honestly tasted just like the one he preferred. The universe, whichever one they happened to be in now, owed him not realizing the buttons on his cardigan were one off until they were about to head out and Martin had to fix them, fingers humming with the warmth of him lingering in the cashmere every time. He deserved to forget his keys and then also have to go back to check that their flat door was locked twice, just to be sure. He deserved tossing cabbage in the trolley at the market, only to get home and realize it was a head of iceberg lettuce instead, and also he had completely forgotten the onion anyway so back he would have to go. Tiny and insignificant, patently human foibles that any normal person might tally up to a really rotten day overall and gripe about over a glass of Châteauneuf-du-Pape he had won as gleaming, pyrrhic badges on the ruins of his humanity yanked back from the claws of the yawning, devouring dark matter of the cosmos and stitched painstakingly back together with love.

But mostly Jon deserved to not notice the way people looked at him.

He need not see the painted-on expressions of strangers that ran the gamut from quiet pity, to voyeuristic curiosity, to outright revulsion that Martin could not help but see everywhere they went. They had no idea. Not even the slightest inkling of what, exactly, had composed that magnum opus of horror and pain scarred resplendently on his flesh, his bones, his sinews and synapses. To even try know was to go mad, the mind looping through and around and between consciousness and logic and love and fear and philosophy and metacognition until it squeezed into an ouroboros black hole singularity of dense unknowing that collapsed in on itself and perished in cataclysm. They had merely gotten lucky that being extruded through the plumbings of creation seemed to straighten out their fibers enough to be woven back into the fabric of reality, but they were too kinked and snagged and gnarled to ever lay fully flat again. And that was why they stared.

The invasive beings of Jon and Martin had come to mutual terms with it long ago, but they also knew they would be forever incongruous with an innocent world, with a world where they did not belong and that collectively looked at them both like an ontological cancer, benign but festering and ugly. They would never know the thing that crouched behind the stars with pointed knees and elbows that even then, groped to find their new world in the lightless vast, and Jon deserved to not perceive any hints of that either. He deserved their quiet, their peace, their wordless human acceptance.

Jon deserved to be innocently chewing a periwinkle-painted thumbnail in front of the ice cream counter, just as he was that gossamer spring afternoon, turning woeful and forever mismatched brown and green eyes at his husband and asking if he should get mint chip or rum raisin before deciding, actually, could he have a sample of the salted caramel ribbon first? He pointed eagerly at the various frozen tubs behind the glass with his gnarled right hand, where the fingers never did quite open or close properly again, and missed in his wonderment at the veritable cornucopia of sweet delights available to him the mingled look of pity and horror on the cashier’s face as she doled out samples at his request. Martin lurked protectively behind, silent, sentinel, seeing it all, a hot brand of fury boring its way through his chest as he glared icy blue daggers at the clueless young woman, who only compounded her crimes by complimenting the permanent white forelock in his ginger curls as she took his order.

Martin snatched his double scoop of rocky road and pralines and cream out of her hand with a withering scowl and said nothing. Jon, frowning in the dread shadow of Martin’s hushed wrath and finally deciding on just the mint chip, took it upon himself to pay while the poor young woman skirted around both their gazes. They took their ice cream to enjoy in the balmy sun on the metal patio tables outside the shop under a cloud of unspoken insults and slander which Jon was more than happy to pop open the conversational umbrella beneath before the downpour.

“Something wrong?” he asked solicitously.

“Nope. I’m fine,” came the curt answer, suspiciously also lacking in eye contact as Martin stabbed his pink spoon into the rocky road.

Jon’s mismatched eyes narrowed shrewdly. There was one thing that never escaped his notice, even now, and that was the painfully obvious way Martin always broadcast his inner hurts and the physical language of his turmoil he had become fluent in over the years.

“Okay, yes you are probably fine. And I’m guessing it has nothing to do with you actually, because you’re angry and you rarely get angry on your own behalf, which means it’s probably something to do with me or some perceived slight. What happened in there? Did someone make a snide remark about my eccentric ice cream selection? The long skirt on a warm spring day? Oh, no, I’ve got it. It was probably the earrings, yes? I knew I should have gone with the feathers instead of hoops, matches the outfit much better.”

The corner of Martin’s mouth quirked up in a hapless, crooked smile as Jon coaxed a laugh out of him, and he looked up into his gaze adoringly to grant him unspoken conciliation.

“No, no not at all. Nothing like that. It’s nothing, love. It’s not a big deal. Just low blood sugar or something. Just eat your nasty mint chip or rum raisin or whatever that unholy concoction is,” Martin snorted, gesturing at his cup.

“Liar,” Jon crooned with loving reproachment, reaching out to thumb a little bit of rum raisin on the tip of Martin’s nose as punishment.

Even breathed with such unfettered, undying affection, Martin hated that word. He hated how transparent he still was to the man he loved, how much he still truly saw him, saw through him. At least all it took to compel him now was a little melted ice cream rubbed clean off his nose and a winsome smile with love-puddled green and brown eyes.

“Okay, okay… fine,” he admitted with a resigned smirk and a sigh, “I don’t like the way they look at you. Okay? That’s all.”

Jon’s brow knitted together curiously.

“Hmm? Who? What do you mean?” he asked.

“Everyone!” Martin finally effused in frustration, “Everywhere! They look at you like you’re… like you’re damaged goods! Like you’re some pitiful beaten animal on the street, or worse, like you’re some sort of- some sort of um…”

“…Monster?” supplied Jon, lips pursed and lids drooping.

“…I wasn’t going to say that,” Martin stammered.

“What other word is there?”

“Fine, they look at you like you’re a monster. They take one look at your face or your throat or your… your hand. And I can just see it on their faces. They look at you like you’re a monster, and I hate it. You don’t deserve that. You never did! They don’t even know you! They don’t know what happened to you…! And sorry, Jon, but I get angry about it because it’s not fair, and I can’t exactly go about lobbing right hooks into the faces of everyone who even looks at you cross-eyed, now can I? Much as I’d like to…"

Jon went quiet as he listened, dabbling first in the rum raisin, then indulging in a little mint chip chaser, cocking his head to the side thoughtfully as he nibbled on the plastic spoon.

“Is that what you see?”

The color rolled out from Martin’s freckled cheeks along with the very spirit from his eyes in a fog, his entire mien awash in pallor.

“What? How could you say that to me? I would NEVER think that about you, Jon! How could you ever think I would think that? I-I know I said some awful things in the past about your scars, but I-“

“No no! Martin, no! Of course not! I know you would never!” Jon cut in, reaching across the table to snatch his hand and squeeze it reassuringly, rubbing his knuckles and over his wedding ring, “You misunderstand! I was asking if that’s what you see in their eyes?”

Martin clung to Jon’s hand, heart palpitating and breath easing.

“Oh…” he blurted dumbly, flushing with lively hues of reds and golds once more, “I-? Of course I do, what else could it be?”

“I don’t see that. I don’t see that at all,” Jon answered simply, “It’s… hard to describe but, damaged goods, disgust, morbid curiosity, those are all… Hard things. They have sharp edges. And when people here look at me, I don’t feel anything hard or sharp, it feels… soft? It feels gentle.”

Shaking his head, Martin frowned.

“Gentle? How is openly gawking at someone’s scars in any way gentle?”

“It’s just a feeling I have. I suppose,” Jon mused, thumbing at his beard with his free hand as he constructed an analogy that would make sense in his mind, “Mmm… Think of it like this. Humans, life, we’re all very visually oriented creatures, right? We respond to visual cues in our environments that are universally understood. We wear these rings so that everyone knows we belong together, just the same as bright colors usually mean poison, or how specialized feathers, or horns, or dewlaps and the like let others know they’d be a good mate, or how some things look like eyes or like entirely different creatures to scare off predators, and so on.”

The creases in Martin’s forehead only deepened in confusion.

“Okay sure, but scars aren’t a natural adaptation? We don’t look at scars the same way we look at pretty eyes on a moth wing or something.”

“I know that, that’s not what I’m saying,” Jon reiterated tenderly, “What I’m saying is I’ve always felt like my scars are a visual cue, but one that says to others ‘treat me gently’, because clearly I haven’t been. And it’s… well it’s been quite nice. You were about to tear that poor girl’s head off, but didn’t you see how she not only gave me about six samples when the sign clearly said two per customer, but then she also gave me the rum raisin ‘by mistake’ and then conveniently forgot to charge for it?”

“Wh-did she?” Martin gasped in shock, rewinding the transaction to remember that indeed, Jon had only asked for mint chip, but there was clearly also a generous scoop of rum raisin in his cup, ”She did… No I… I guess I didn’t notice…”

Jon let Martin’s hand go to cup his cheek pointedly in his scarred palm, running his thumb over the soft curve of his cheek and the spray of his ruddy freckles comfortingly.

“You want to know what I think? I think what you perceive as disgust or aversion or even pity is just fear, like you had. Fear of pain, fear of disfigurement, of fallibility. People are always afraid of seeing what can become of their mortal bodies, but that has nothing to do with me, or being disgusted by me. People are, at their cores, good and gentle, Martin. I know they are, we both do. They see me, my cane, my limp, my hand, my gray hair, my face, and they don’t even ask, they just know, on some primal level, that life was not kind to me. And so in some tiny way, like free rum raisin, they almost always try to give something back to me.”

Jon had known. He had noticed. It had never escaped his perception as Martin had assumed. Jon had known all along, but it was only Martin who still saw daggers in the smiles of strangers while he had taken the last vestiges of his powers irrevocably branded on his body and soul and sowed something delicate and beautiful and blossoming in his new earth. Martin had made a weapon. Perhaps no less delicate and beautiful, but still cold and sharp and deadly. The razor white edge of the sun through frigid fog.

“I’m so sorry, Jon,” Martin choked, his throat pinching shut with the threat of tears, “I-I had no idea…. I-I only thought…”

“It’s alright, please don’t cry, darling, you have nothing to be sorry for. I understand. You only thought you were protecting me. I protected you for so long, when you were desperate to do the same for me, to save me, but had no power to do either. Now you’ve got your turn to do the protecting in earnest, and honestly, it’s a… can I- can I say hot? Can I say it’s a hot look on you? Or is that weird?” Jon asked, tips of his ears blushing coyly.

Martin managed a laugh as he sniffed back the tears and thumbed both sets of lashes dry under his spectacles.

“It’s a little weird for you, in particular, to say it, just because it’s you. But I’ll take it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Perhaps then, Martin thought as Jon leaned over their whimsical little metal table outside an ice cream parlor by a park with a striped canopy above them and birds singing and kissed his tears away and then kissed his lips into a smile, that sharp things needn’t always be weapons. Perhaps his sword was, in reality, a spade, or a hoe, something to tend and nurture the new and fragile happiness Jon had tilled. Gentle things deserved gentle protection, and he was still going to devote every iota of his being to protecting Jon until the end of their days. After all, as they finally got to enjoy their slightly melted ice cream, Jon still dribbled a bit of rum raisin down his beard and carried on none the wiser. Martin let him go on like that, blissfully unaware, talking about Polyphemus moths and the myth of the cyclops and something about someone going about as Nobody, until he finally reached out with a napkin to attentively wipe it away.

Other than a gracefully paced ‘oh, thank you dear,’ Jon never missed a beat.

[heliads]

If I Can’t Have You

Based on this request: “one shot of Wanda and the reader are married and Agatha likes the reader and creates problem in their relationship. one day the reader and Wanda were fighting, the reader leaves to find Agatha who controls the reader to fall in love with her. Wanda finds the reader and removes the mind control.”

masterlist

Agnes walks down the sun-bleached sidewalk, arms full of a stack of hardbacks that most certainly were not transformed spellbooks. Of course they weren’t- she is Agnes now, not Agatha, and even nosy neighbours would never be caught dead studying incantations. She has to keep up the illusion of innocence, and that is final.

Agnes’ cheerful grin slips when her eye catches on something in the bushes. They should be drab shades of gray (they’re still stuck in the 50s, no matter how much Agnes wishes they would just change decades already), but there’s a flash of color inside them. Agnes groans. Is Wanda’s control disintegrating so quickly? Agnes gestures towards the bush ever so slightly, and the color fades back to black and white in a second, with only a flash of purple dancing around Agnes’ fingertips to show that anything had changed.

However, in the split second that Agnes’ focus had been diverted away, her tall stack of books had begun to slide out of her arms. Agnes reaches out to steady the pile once more, but it’s too late- the books cascade to the ground, spilling out over the pale concrete. Agnes kneels, ignoring the spike of heat slicing up her knees from the sunburned sidewalk, and begins to gather up the books. To her surprise, a second figure leans down beside her, picking up the scattered hardbacks as well.

When Agnes looks up, her breath catches slightly in her throat. There’s someone standing over them, sun shining out in a halo over their head. A smile flashes across their face as they hold out the remaining books. “I’m Y/N. I don’t think we’ve been able to meet before.” Agnes shakes her head. “No, I don’t think so. I would have remembered you, hon. The name’s Agnes.” Y/N grins, teeth flashing in the sun. “It’s nice to meet you, Agnes. I think we’re neighbours- I live down the block with my wife, Wanda. Great to make some new friends.”

Agnes clears her throat. “Well, thank you for your help.” Y/N tilts their head in acknowledgement. “Well, I figured I might as well do something quickly. Wanda’s right down the block, and I don’t think you would have wanted her to see you summon up some purple sparks to retrieve the books.” Agnes stares. “You-” Y/N waves a hand in dismissal. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not going to say anything. I saw you fix that hedge, so clearly you’re here to help. If there’s one thing I can do, it’s keep a secret for a friend. See you around, Agnes.”

With that, Y/N heads back down the sidewalk, footsteps echoing down the concrete path. Agnes is left staring. Y/N knew about the magic and Y/N is married to Wanda, yet they aren’t going to say anything? As Agnes walks back to her house, she realizes there’s a new feeling of rage bubbling up in her stomach against the red-haired witch. It’s not just envy of Wanda’s chaos magic. No, this is something different. It takes Agatha a while to realize what it is, and then it occurs to her. She’s jealous that Wanda has Y/N in her life every day.

Agatha can’t take this feeling of envy for much longer. She begins small spells targeting Wanda and Y/N’s marriage, ones that will sow seeds of discontent that will draw Y/N to Agatha instead. At first, they’re barely noticeable- traffic is bad so Y/N arrives home later and later each day, Wanda keeps forgetting to keep a space out for Y/N at the dinner table. Then, it’s time for Agatha’s magnum opus- one thunderous rain storm that forces Y/N to dash into Agatha’s house to escape the torrential showers.

Y/N only has to knock a couple of times before Agatha opens her door, quickly ushering the drenched neighbour into her house. Y/N apologizes profusely, but Agatha just shakes her head. “It’s fine, trust me. I’d rather you stay in here for a while and dry up than have to run home in this sort of weather.” She hands Y/N a blanket, which they accept gratefully, wrapping around their shoulders.

Y/N gets distracted by a bookcase in the corner of the room, a deep mahogany number with intricate carvings detailing the sides. “You have a good collection of books here. Rivals even my own.” A faint smile slips across their face as they examine the titles, a warmth in their eyes as if greeting dozens of old friends. At last, Y/N’s finger stops over one book in particular, and they carefully draw it out from amongst the others.

Agatha leans over to Y/N, curious. “Which book is that?” Y/N delicately opens the cover, poring over the detailed illustrations and long swoops of text. “Greek mythology. I’ve always been a fan.” Y/N flips through the pages, stopping before one particularly beautiful depiction of a myth. In the drawing, a goddess lies desolate over the body of a lover, roses beginning to form where blood pools from their body.

“Aphrodite and Adonis. That’s a classic. The goddess of love and the queen of the underworld both fell in love with this one mortal hero, Adonis, and they fought over him for a long time.” Agatha furrows her brow. “What happened?” Y/N shakes their head sadly. “Adonis ended up dead, killed by a boar. The stories differ over the killing- some versions say it was Ares, Aphrodite’s husband, or it could have been Persephone herself, jealous that Adonis was falling in love with her rival. Either way, he ended up dead and they both ended up unhappy.”

Y/N sighs. “There are a lot of myths like that, actually. Two gods fall for one lover and in the resulting fight, the world seems to be torn apart. Something similar happened with Hercules and the river god Achelous over Deianeira, actually. Every time, two fall in love with one, and every time, violence always follows. If one god couldn’t have their lover, then nobody could. It never made sense to me. Why tear apart the world over love? Besides, it always hurt the lover, who never had any choice in the matter. A waste, honestly.”

Y/N closes the book and glances outside the window. “Look, it stopped raining. I will stop intruding on your hospitality with my sad Greek myths and leave you to your afternoon.” Agatha starts to raise her voice to protest, to say that Y/N could never be a waste of time, but Y/N is already donning her coat and slipping out the door with a raised hand and a final declaration of gratitude.

Wanda waits for Y/N when they get home. She stands in the middle of the living room, just waiting for when her spouse walks through the door. Y/N has barely closed the door behind them when they see their wife, and their smile fades. “What’s wrong, Wanda? You look upset.” Wanda’s gaze remains steady, bordering on harsh. “I wonder why that would be. I wonder why my spouse would show up late again, especially when I asked them to be here early for dinner.”

Y/N gestures loosely at the door behind them. “I couldn’t go anywhere! It was raining so hard I could barely see two feet in front of me. Here, you can see my jacket, my hair, they’re wet-” Y/N’s voice breaks off as they reach for their coat and find it perfectly dry. They rush to the window, but there is no sign of rain. No puddles, no clouds, nothing. Y/N turns back to Wanda, a look of bewilderment fogging up their eyes.

“I have no idea what happened. I swear, it was raining, but now there’s nothing there at all.” Wanda raises an eyebrow. “Yes, that’s very convincing, isn’t it? A magically disappearing rainstorm apparent only to you.” Y/N tilts their head, irritation beginning to show. “Don’t use that tone. I would never lie to you. This is just strange. Something is happening and I can’t understand it.” They throw their arms up in frustration, but just as they raise their hands, Wanda flinches. It’s a small movement, barely there at all, but it’s enough for Y/N to notice. Instantly, all annoyance fades from their face, replaced by swift betrayal.

“You flinched- you thought I would-” Y/N’s voice is quiet, barely there at all. Wanda shakes her head fervently. “I didn’t mean that. It was an accident.” Y/N looks back at their wife, expression bleak. “It wasn’t an accident, though. You thought I would hit you? You truly think so little of me?” Y/N turns around, grabbing their coat from the door once more. “I think I should go. I think that would be best for both of us.”

Wanda reaches out to stop Y/N from leaving, but her spouse has already disappeared through the front door. A quiet gasp comes from the stairs behind Wanda, and she turns to see Billy and Tommy clustered together on the stairs, twin looks of horror on their faces. Billy is the first to speak. “Are they leaving us?” Wanda rushes over to them, hurrying in her apologies. “Of course not. Everyone has disagreements, you know? It’s impossible to be perfectly happy forever. Y/N is going to come back very soon, and we’re going to talk things out again. That’s what makes us love each other, you know. We always come back to each other in the end.”

Wanda’s voice is light and untroubled, but her children still don’t look entirely convinced. In fact, Wanda doesn’t even look convinced herself. After Billy and Tommy retreat back upstairs to their rooms, Wanda walks slowly to the kitchen and sits down at the table, placing her head in her hands. What has she done? What if Y/N really doesn’t come back?

Y/N regrets storming out of the house as soon as the front door closes behind them. They want nothing more than to go back inside and apologize, but they’ve always had too much pride to swallow. So, they walk out of their house, heading out into the street. Maybe they’ll go into town for a while, shoot the breeze and cool down, and then come back home and make things right. Y/N has never been able to stay away from Wanda for too long, especially during an argument. That’s what made them work so well together- they always returned to each other.

However, Y/N hasn’t gone more than a couple of feet down the road when someone walks up to them. Y/N glances over, recognizing Agnes. “Look, I’m sorry but I don’t really want to talk right now. I’ve already messed things up with Wanda, I think it’s best that I stay by myself for a while.” Agatha’s smile doesn’t falter for a second. “Of course you want to come with me, hon. You love me.” 

Y/N frowns, but with a wave of Agatha’s hand a violet streak flashes across Y/N’s eyes and a relaxed smile spreads across their face. “I do love you.” Agatha holds out her hand, and Y/N takes it without a second’s hesitation. Agatha glances over at Y/N, considering them. “Actually, I think we need one more spell. I can’t have Wanda recognizing you, after all.” Agatha murmurs a spell under her breath, and Y/N’s features ripple and change into an entirely different face. Even if Wanda happened to see Y/N walking with Agatha, she would have no idea who they were.

Wanda is growing more uneasy as the hours pass by. Y/N should have returned by now, they should have made up by now. The fact that they aren’t here tells Wanda that something is wrong. Wanda knows it must be the aftereffects of the argument, but yet there’s something in the back of her head telling Wanda that there might be some foul play. After a while, Tommy slips into the room, pausing as he walks by Wanda.

“Are you still looking for Y/N?” Wanda nods, then frowns at Tommy’s tone. “What do you mean, still? Do you know where she is?” Tommy shakes his head, but he hesitates slightly. Wanda jumps on this uncertainty like a lion. “Tommy, love, I need you to tell me where Y/N is. We both know something isn’t right, don’t we? This is really important.”

Tommy still deliberates, but after frantic glances from Wanda he finally relents. “I was running past Agnes’ house and I saw someone in there. I had never seen them before, and Billy says that nobody new has come into town. It didn’t look like Y/N, but it was still strange.” Wanda swoops forward, pressing a kiss to Tommy’s forehead. “Thank you so much for telling me. I’ll go look into that right away. Stay here with Billy, alright? I’ll be back in a second.”

The methodical rhythm of Wanda’s boots echoes down the street as she heads purposefully to Agnes’ house. She knocks a couple of times before the door opens, and Wanda is face to face with an utterly unfamiliar person. Wanda blinks in confusion. “Hi, I’m Wanda. I was looking for someone.” The stranger in Agnes’ house smiles. “Well, come on inside. Maybe you’ll find them here.”

Wanda nods, following the stranger inside. “What’s your name, by the way?” Wanda asks, and the stranger just looks at her. “I wasn’t given a name.” There’s a moment of tension, like the stranger is almost begging Wanda to realize something, but then their face smooths over and everything returns to normal. Wanda is shown to a seat in the living room, and she stares around Agnes’ house. She reaches out with her mind, searching for Y/N, but nothing happens.

The stranger bustles back into the room. “Agnes is out, but she’ll be back in a little bit. Is there anything I can do for you right now?” Wanda shakes her head, standing up. “Actually, I don’t think so. I’m sorry to waste your time.” Wanda starts to head to the door, but the stranger quickly walks in front of her, blocking her path. “Are you sure? I thought you were looking for someone.” The stranger is staring at them with a look so full of pain and hope that Wanda almost has to look away. What would the stranger want Wanda to know? What would they know, except-

Then Wanda realizes, and she reaches out a tentative hand to the stranger’s temples. Wanda concentrates for a second, searching, and then she feels the spell masking the stranger’s thoughts and pulls it away like she’s removing a blindfold. Instantly, the stranger straightens up, and they shudder for a second as their face changes into a more familiar countenance. Wanda cries out in relief, wrapping her arms around Y/N, for of course it is they who stand before her. 

“I thought you were missing- I thought you hated me-” Y/N holds tight to Wanda. “No. No, I could never. I tried to go back, but then the spell hit and I couldn’t do anything.” Y/N leans back, cupping Wanda’s face gently in her palm. “I’m so glad you found me. I was so scared that you wouldn’t know it was me.” Wanda smiles bittersweetly. “I will always come back to you. Every single time.”

Wanda and Y/N leave Agatha’s house, heading quickly back to their own home, back to their twin boys who look up excitedly when they see Y/N return. Wanda and Y/N do not notice Agatha, who just arrives at her house in time to see the married couple disappear back through their own front door. Agatha glares, storming into her house to see the hated truth- Y/N is indeed gone, the spell broken. In a moment of utter rage, Agatha lets her power flow through her, murky indigo smoke pouring over the room as walls crack and glasses break.

When Agatha is at last able to control herself, she stands panting in the middle of the room. Her eyes catch on a book that had been yanked from its shelf, a book that now lies open on the ground. Agatha’s eyes widen as she takes in that familiar drawing of the goddess and the lover, from the story Y/N had been talking about earlier. Aphrodite and Adonis, forced to repeat their pain once more.

But Agatha understands it now, understands it as Y/N had never been able to fully comprehend. Why shouldn’t the gods tear apart the world? This feeling in Agatha’s chest, this empty broken rage, will never be able to subside. Y/N loves Wanda, and Wanda loves Y/N. There is no room for Agatha in that story. 

A twisted, fractured smile begins to wend its way across Agatha’s lips. Before, she had been hesitant about messing too much with Wanda’s reality, but now, all rules are gone with Y/N. If Agatha can’t have Y/N, no one else will. Wanda doesn’t stand a chance.

wanda maximoff tag list: @mycosmicparadise​ @mionemymind​ @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​    

[passable-talent]

part 2 for the sith reader plleeeaasee????? im loving it

part one here

I’m aware of the memability of the youngling massacre and i know i promised to not make reader/anakin redeemable but,,, im gonna do it anyway. strategically it doesnt make sense to murder the next generation and also reader is constantly trying to make anakin believe they’re doing the right thing. reader doesn’t have the luxury of saying ‘do it or padme dies’. they’ve got to be smarter than palpatine was. 

Good news: you’re a Sith Lord. Palpatine is gone. Anakin’s on your side. Also, he loves you, that’s good. 

Bad news: you now have so much more on your plate. You’ve got to activate the clones to kill the Jedi, give a speech before the Senate, accompany Anakin to Mustafar to get rid of the Separatists, there was just so much to do, and in so little time. 

So, no matter how you wished to stay in his embrace forever, you pulled from Anakin’s arms, brushing back his hair sweetly. 

“Love, we need to start moving against the Jedi,” you said softly, righting his very disheveled robes. “You have to go to the temple. I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?”

“I can’t kill any Jedi,” he said, breaking your gaze. In response you hugged him tightly, comfortingly. You’d known he would worry about that.

“I know, I know, I’m not asking you to.” His loyalty to you was strong, but you knew it was not yet unbreakable. “The Younglings- they can be saved. I’ll take care of the Jedi, but you need to make sure they’re safe.” He nodded, fixing the last few details of his tousled robes, and kissed you one last time before he left the room.

Which left you alone, with your thoughts, and some very knotted hair. 

It took a moment to clean yourself up as well, but soon enough you could take a seat at Palpatine’s desk, calling up the communications you’d seen under his fingers a thousand times. The Clones’ slave chips would take over their will the moment you gave the order, and you bit your lip for a moment, wishing you could be there in person to see it all. But you had something much more important to do with your time. 

You pulled your hood over your head and opened your communications to all of the Clone Squadron Leaders. 

“Execute Order Sixty Six,” you said, and the words burned on your tongue. 

You didn’t really have time to waste, you see. You had to meet Anakin at the temple, ‘find’ the evidence you’d plant, rush back to the Senate, then make it to Mustafar. You had a very full schedule for the afternoon, and yet- you couldn’t help it. 

You leaned back in the chair, closed your eyes, and opened yourself to the Force. You reached out across the galaxy, feeling into the light, and the dark. Through it, you felt a thousand Jedi dying. And nothing, well, almost nothing, had ever felt so good. 

The Jedi Killer, you’d been, in the Clone Wars. And though the generation of them did not die by your saber, it was your order, your decision, your words, that had brought them down. You weren’t just a killer. You were a crusader. 

Once you’d gotten your breath back, you pulled up a different communication, one wired to a meeting hall on Mustafar, full of people you despised. Nute Gunray, Shu Mai, truly awful people. People who had come to power, and did nothing with it but collect wealth. Disgusting, truly- when one comes to power, they’re meant to wield it, just as you were. But these people only cared about their trade, their capitalism. Pitiful.

“Viceroy,” you said with a dark smile, eyes hidden beneath your cloak. 

“Lord Errar,” Nute acknowledged you with a bit of surprise in his voice, “Where is Lord Sidious?” 

“He has just a bit to take care of in the Senate,” you said with a wicked smile. Nothing made your soul spark like a well-crafted lie. “Once that’s taken care of, I will pay you a visit, to give you your reward for your help. When the night is over, my friends, you’ll be left in peace.” Giving them no time to ask questions, you closed the communication, delivering your last word to an empty office. 

“Pieces.” 

The last thing you needed to do before you left was nice and easy- the press of a button. Hidden away in the far corner of the Chancellor’s desk was a button meant only for emergencies, which is certainly why you used it now, of course. The death of the chancellor was an emergency, wasn’t it?

You called a senate meeting. 

Once that was done, you knew you had only an hour before the senators would be expecting you, so you found your saber and hurried to your speeder. It didn’t take long to get to the Temple, where you had sent Anakin. He had rescued the younglings from their training, in the midst of the battlegrounds that the Temple had become, and gotten them away to their chambers, in the care of droids. He met you in the center of the temple, Jedi and Clones alike scattered around the floor. So caught up in his mission, he hadn’t noticed how long you’d been at the temple, working your way through the files. 

“I told them that I’d come back when it was safe,” he said, “The droids will take care of them.” 

“Good,” you breathed, giving him a quick kiss under the ear. You took his hand, and slowly tugged him toward the communications center of the temple. “I have to show you something.” You pulled up the files you’d been painstakingly preparing for months, crafting them, ensuring they looked as though they were written by Jedi fingers.

On them were plans from the other side of the Clone Wars, supporting the Separatists. They held details about the destruction of the Senate, the assassination of the Chancellor, without even knowing he was a Sith. And of course, your magnum opus, the most perfect thing you could’ve included- the passage that described how the Jedi would allow the Dark Side of the Force, the Sith, to rise in power so that the Jedi could shift the blame for the war to the Sith. This, you knew, would hurt Anakin most of all- that the Jedi had completely ignored their duty to fight the Dark. 

“I just don’t understand,” you said softly, shaking your head, darkness pulsing deep in your chest with a beautiful, well-crafted lie. “I thought- I thought that Sidious was behind the war. But even he was being manipulated by the Jedi, he was going to be gotten rid of so that the Jedi could control the Senate.” Anakin couldn’t look away from the holograms. 

“Anakin, I’m so sorry,” you breathed, lacing your arms around the closest of his, hoping to give him even the slightest comfort, as he accepted that the people who’d raised and trained him were so evil. Apparently.

“There’s some good news, though,” you said, motioning to one of the holograms, “We now know where the Separatist leaders are. You and I- we can go...” you paused, seeming to stumble to find the proper word. “...Remove them.” Finally breaking his eyes away from the holo, he nodded, pulling you just a bit closer. 

You kissed his cheek, giving him a moment to grieve.

“I should inform the Senate,” you said, “They’ve never met me, but I was the Chancellor’s apprentice. They’ll respect me.” His flesh hand came to your face, and you leaned into it, closing your eyes for the briefest of moments to drown in his affection. 

“Be careful,” he told you, and you nodded.

“Can you-” you said, shaking your head briefly, trying to be gentle with him. “Come with me, please. I don’t want you to stay here by yourself.” He nodded, and together you walked to your speeder, taking it to the Senate hall. 

And this- this was to be your masterpiece. 

“Senators-” you began, aligning your shoulders in a way that had you looking powerful enough to command their attention, but nervous enough they wouldn’t suspect you for foul play. “I’m afraid I have some very disturbing news for you.” 

"I was an apprentice to the late Chancellor Palpatine, a gifted and respected leader who guided our republic through the first war in generations. I’m saddened to inform you, though, that this war was not what you’ve been told.” Whispers rippled through the senate’s hall.

“The Jedi, to whom this Senate entrusted the peace of the galaxy, had given power to the Separatists, in order to stir up the war. Earlier this very day, four Jedi masters ambushed myself and the Chancellor in his office...” you trailed away, bringing up emotion to stir their sympathy.

“I only escaped thanks to one young Jedi who still represents what the Jedi Order was meant to. The Chancellor was not so lucky.” You felt it as grief rolled through the room, and fought away a smile. They believed your every word- of course they did.

“On the battlefields, the horror of the Jedi and their plans were realized, and many of them were executed for crimes against the republic, following the Chancellor’s dying wishes. His other...” You shook your head, as though disbelieving what you were about to propose. 

“His other wish on his deathbed was that I carry on his work. That I guide the Republic into a future of peace.” The energy in the room shifted, but not toward the negative. No, they trusted you. They were considering giving your former mentor’s power to you. They just needed a little more. 

“I know you’ve never seen me before, you have no reason to trust me. I implore you, honorable senate, to believe me. I will see it that this Republic is capable of recognizing traitors, as the Jedi had become. I will see to it that the remaining traitorous Jedi are hunted down and executed. I promise to lead this Senate into the future!” 

The cheer went up. 

“I vote to reorganize the Republic, into something stronger, more powerful, more capable of destroying threats to the peace!” 

The energy was beautiful, lifting you to levels of bliss you had never felt before. You were to be the most powerful Sith there had ever been, controlling the Senate, the Republic, the Sith, the Jedi. 

The Republic. Such a name didn’t have quite the ring you wanted. You were to be, what, Chancellor? No, no, that wouldn’t do. 

“Together, we will create the first Galactic Empire- a beacon of hope for the galaxy, the strongest protector of the peace that the galaxy has ever seen!” 

Emperor. Now that was a title you were proud to carry. 

“We have to hurry,” you told Anakin as you strode from the meeting hall, “The Separatists might hear word that we know their location. We’ve got to get to them before they move.” 

They hadn’t- they waited, like the proper pawns they were, for the reward you had promised them. Such a reward came in one of two forms:

Anakin’s saber, or yours. 

You had planned out everything that would happen this day, everywhere you would go, every bit of it. You knew every step, and were never caught off guard. 

Until you discovered Obi-Wan Kenobi waiting outside of your ship.

You had to make a decision fast- how you were going to play this. Obi-Wan was a talented Jedi, and possibly the one person who you’d be incapable of manipulating, thanks to that strong Jedi code. He was also the only person who Anakin might be loyal to, over you. 

So, you let Anakin have his reunion, as though you hadn’t even noticed Obi-Wan. 

You stayed close, but you hadn’t thought to make Anakin realize he’d have to stand opposed to Obi-Wan, so you had to wait for the proper moment to interject yourself. 

“Anakin, are you alright? There’s been so much happening- I was so worried.” You knew Obi-Wan had noticed you, but for all of Obi-Wan’s faults, at least he knew that you were no threat to Anakin. 

“I’m fine,” Anakin told him, and you recognized what he was feeling- he was pushing away his emotions, as the Jedi Order had always told him to. 

“Master Yoda has lost contact with Master Windu- we don’t know what happened. Do you?” 

And there it was. The moment you’d been waiting for.

“Stop,” you groaned, crossing your arms. “You know exactly what Windu was doing. You know exactly where he was today.” You stepped forward, putting yourself almost between Obi-Wan and Anakin. 

“No,” Obi-Wan said, astonished by your presence. He’d known you were there, but something about you now almost reminded him that you were barely an adult, just like Anakin. “No, sith apprentice, I don’t know what happened.” 

“That’s a lie!” you shouted, not yet bringing up your saber. You put your arm in front of Anakin, as though protecting him from Obi-Wan. “You’re done lying to him!”

“Excuse me?”

“Mace Windu along with three other Jedi masters were sent to murder the Chancellor of the Republic so that the Jedi could assume control! Anakin and I found the plans in the Jedi temple ourselves!” Obi-Wan’s expression fell, and he didn’t look away from you.

“What are you talking about?” 

You shared a glance with Anakin, and suddenly, you had an idea. 

“They didn’t even tell you?” You whispered, turning your gaze to the floor as though you were considering. You were, though, honestly- there was no reason why this needed to end with Obi-Wan dead, not if you could reel him in just as cleanly as you did Anakin. And if you failed, then to Anakin it would feel incredibly genuine that Obi-Wan would need to die, ensuring his loyalty either way.

You brought your gaze to Anakin’s, and offered him the slightest pitiful smile.

“Maybe he can be trusted,” you said, offering him the hope that his master was redeemable. Lifting your chin as though gathering your wits, you turned to Obi-Wan, something under your ribcage sparking again with the love of a good plan seeing itself through. 

“I’m sorry to tell you this, Master, but the Jedi had been plotting the death of Chancellor Palpatine, and once he was gone, they were going to assume control of the Senate. Your masters have been behind this war, all along. It’s all very-” You shook your head. “Despicable.” 

“It can’t be true,” Obi-Wan said, his voice stealing air from his lungs, his chest seeming to deflate, and this couldn’t have possibly worked out better. 

“We found the plans, in the Temple,” Anakin said, and Obi-Wan looked at his former Padawan. 

“I assure you, Master,” you said, lowering your head, “I just want the galaxy in peace. I know you aren’t inclined to believe me, I understand...” It occurred to you that if he knew the whole of the story, he might be swayed toward you.

“Anakin and I are a Dyad,” you told him, and Anakin’s entire presence in the Force pulsed with surprise. “I always thought that it meant we were destined to be enemies, but I guess the future is harder to predict than that.” Obi-Wan studied you briefly, looking over your face, trying to find any hint of dishonesty. He underestimated you- you breathed dishonesty, it was in your bloodstream. Why would he be able to see it on you?

“You are a sith, are you not?” Obi-Wan asked, presumably weighing whether or not he could trust you. 

“I was abandoned by my master, because of how I felt for Anakin,” you told him, and none of it was a flat lie. That was your specialty- you were surprisingly honest, if one listened with a close enough ear. You reached out to take Anakin’s hand, an unabashed show of affection that felt quite teenaged. “I just want him to be safe.”

“If I can trust you, (Y/N), which I’m not sure I can,” Obi-Wan said, “I’ll help restore the galaxy in every way I can.” 

-🦌 Roe

part 3

[matronoftheblackrose]

C sees C

Zayne clicked his tongue as he checked his watch. The waning rays of the sun and the dimming of Piltover coincided with every second ticking closer to 6:00 PM. Corina asked all of her employees to work two hours longer this day, and the Piltover Enforcers needed to be given their signal. Zayne looked left, then right as he walked outside of the blooming factory. Past the greenery and the foliage, he took a step outside where a rat scurried across his boot. If he was as soft as a Piltvan then maybe he would have jumped in shock but nah, Zayne was used to far worse conditions than a greenhouse and mice.

Zayne rolled his left sleeve back, exposing his metallic cybernetic limb. He had to blink and squint from the sudden ray that reflected into his eyes, and in that moment, he swore something darted past him. Zayne looked behind him to find- nothing there. Other than the artificial lights of the greenhouse humming with energy and the vats of fertilizer being pumped throughout the complex. With a shake of his head, Zayne refocused on his tasks at hand.

With a twitch of his thumb, Zayne’s hextech crystal clicked to life in his ear.

“Rat to Dog? The big C remains. Mice scurrying to alternate corners in 10.”

A harsh buzz was followed by, “Roger. Begin in 10.”

Zayne clicked his thumb again, let out a sigh of relief, and looked all about to make sure no one was around. He could swear there was something just, in the corner of his eye, but no matter what, no matter how he looked, Zayne saw nothing. Even when his goggles locked on, zoomed in and identified the spewed remains of a liquid in a nearby alleyway to most likely be vomit.

With another sigh of relief, Zayne clicked his thumb again. “Sheriff? 10 until the War Storm. Do as you will.”

A smooth, soft click was followed by, “Thank you. In and out in-”

A hand came over Zayne’s mouth. Something pressed into the base of Zayne’s spine, and another hand picked the earpiece out, and in Zayne’s voice, the presence said, “Sorry, you need to wait 5. Guard schedule changed. I’ll tell the En’s storm to hold for another 10, else you’ll lose your chance.”

Zayne wanted to react in some way, but he felt his body go utterly limp- whatever martial arts this was, Zayne could not lift a limb. He also knew that the hand wrapped around his mouth certainly looked human, but was anything but. The way the fingers bent were not like a human’s, to be able to wrap so perfectly around his face to mute him completely and allow Zayne to breathe only through his nose.

A pause. “Are you sure?” the headpiece asked.

“Yes, Sheriff. Positive.”

Another pause. “We can’t miss this chance to lose C. Are. You. Sure.”

In that instant, Zayne knew that this person was toying with him. The hand flexed ever so slightly, straining Zayne’s jaw. He could feel his bones bend, and if the hand bothered to clench, Zayne knew it could crush his entire skull with pathetic ease.

“Ten thousand percent, and three quarters, Sheriff. Trust me, Sheriff.”

Zayne’s eyes went wide. How the hell did this ‘guy’ know Zayne’s dumb joke?

“Alright. 10 it is” The comm line went dead.

The presence asked, in Zayne’s voice, “May you please call your Wardens? I wish to ask them to arrive in another 10.”

Zayne’s mind raced, but his thoughts turned to pain as the hand on his jaw squeezed again.

“I honestly would love playing with you a little more, seeing how you are actually aiding my Sheriff, but I have business to attend to and we’re in a rush. I do not like violence, but today is a very personal day for me and I simply cannot be late,” the presence continued. “Do as I say, and no one gets so much as scratched. I promise you."

The hand released Zayne’s mouth, giving him the chance to spit back, “And how can I trust you?”

The presence turned Zayne around, and as Zayne’s turned paler than death, under the dimming rays of Piltover’s sun, the presence simply asked, “Do you have a choice?

---

Corina caressed the petals of her wolf’s bane flower that was exposed to an open window and to the sun, fully knowing that so very soon, the Enforcers will be arriving and her master plan could be enacted. It took some time, oh yes, but a single stroke would remove those pesky officers with ease, and then she could bring forth into Piltover-

“Miss Corina? Ma’am? May I have a word with you?” Zayne asked.

Corina turned around, her metallic nails clicking. The hum of electrical lights above flickered, Zayne with his hands in his pockets, standing between two rows of planted Noxian oleander. Corina smiled at him and beckoned him to her.

“Yes, Zayne. You may approach,” Corina cooed. “What is it you wish to discuss?”

“Well, a coupla things,” Zayne admitted as he walked forward. His right hand came up and caressed the poisonous petals of the flowers. “First and foremost, guess you know what I’m doing here, huh?”

Corina’s fingers clicked. She could feel the toxins from her suit’s canisters course through the tubes and fill the chamber of her fingertips. “No, do tell, what are you doing here?”

Zayne smirked and waved Corina off. “Playing coy? Come now.” His voice changed almost entirely- now slightly higher pitched but far more relaxed, with just a slight Demacian accent as he twirled and skipped underneath the flickering lights. “I know you’re pretending to be ‘C’, Corina. No reason to play games with me.”

Corina blinked, unsure of what just happened. “Pardon?”

“I said there’s no reason to play games with me. If this were a game and I were playing chess or some other alternate ‘intelligent’ game, you’d be playing connect four and failing to count to three,” Zayne continued with a chuckle. He threw his right hand out and batted one of the more annoying oleanders out of his way.

Corina realized just then that not only were Zayne’s mannerisms off, but the fact that he was touching Noxian oleander that she genetically bred herself, and did not react with violent itching or wheezing, or collapsing to the ground in paralyzed agony, was slightly off. “You’re not Zayne, are you?”

“And you have managed to count to two! Your intellect shocks me!” Zayne laughed. 

Corina collected herself, furrowed her brow and pointed a finger at Zayne. “Do watch your tongue, cur. You may have caught me off guard at first, but please, do you know who you are talking to?”

Zayne snorted and raised his right hand up in mock apology. “You are correct. Please forgive me, Corina Veraza the Chembaron- my deeper apologies, I mean Corina, the Mastermind of Chembarons and Zaunites.”

“Thank you. Now, what do you want?”

“Back to 1, huh? You ask questions but not the right questions.” The light flickered, Zayne’s goggles reflecting the light every little which way in the dimming room. “Let me answer your question with a question: What do you think I am here for?”

“If you were Zayne, then to raid my cultivair with Piltover’s Wardens and that daft Caitlyn. But you are not, so- honestly, you can be here to make a deal with me or to kill me. The former being far more plausible than the latter.”

Zayne clenched his jaw, took in a deep breath, and responded, “I’m sorry to say but the former is far less likely than the latter at this rate. And the latter I would daresay, is not something ‘up’ in my priority list. No, I’m here to take back what is mine, and to take something so very dear of yours.”

Corina raised an eyebrow. “Oh yes, you are here to take my magnum opus? Please, as though I would let you. I have investors that are interested in it, and if you wanted it so badly, we could have negotiated a price at a better time than this. Is that all?”

“Your magnum opus? Which one?” Zayne pointed behind him just as the electricity shut off for nearly a full two seconds. When it flicked back on, Zayne’s smile was just an inch too wide- a few teeth too many. “Your ‘magnum opus’ in your office? A glorified weed according to your own documents that would cause severe bodily waste leakage if consumed, a so very crude joke for a crude mind. No, no no. I am here to take back my reputation, and to take Meiraxa.”

Corina’s body went cold. Her actual magnum opus, the one that could in fact eliminate the Zaun Grey, named after her sister, a fact no one alive should know. Corina brought her hands up and was about to unleash her full fury when she took a moment, thought, and smiled. “Since you know so much about me, may I ask who I am speaking to the corpse that will be fed to my children?”

Zayne snapped his fingers, brought out his left, very human arm, and clapped at Corina. “Excellent! You counted back to two! Bravo!”

Corina’s rage cracked her stoic mask, but she said nothing.

Zayne continued to speak, this time in Corina’s exact voice, “You finally did your best to recognize an ant’s existence! Have you finally noticed how damn quiet it is in here? Your guards went home. Have you been too distracted to see the time? I changed it when you weren’t looking so you wouldn’t be ‘panicked’ about being time efficient. Who am I?”

Zayne pointed at himself, bowed, and said in Zayne’s voice, Corina’s voice, that Demacian voice, and a multitude of other voices in horrifying unison, “I am C. The C. You took what is mine, and so I will take that back and more.”

Corina paled.

“You took my moniker because you thought it’d be easy to lead Caitlyn here into a trap, kill all of the wardens in a single stroke, and have more freedom to pursue your stupid, selfish desires in Piltover like the so very good ecologist you are,” C continued. He laughed and wagged a finger at Corina, speaking in his Demacian voice again, “Which, I could appreciate! Imitation is the purest form of flattery-”

Corina clicked a button on her palm, and the bed of oleanders nearest to C exploded, sending wood splinters and plant matter everywhere. The detonation was small and controlled, but it was more than enough to utterly annihilate a human at point blank range. The lights flickered, the smoke parted, and Corina stumbled backwards, eyes wide with fear and disgust.

Flesh slurped, skin ripped, bones creaked and cracked, and Zayne reformed in front of Corina under the strobing light of failing electricity above. He cracked his head to realign it, which made each vertebrae of his spine crack one after the other like a macabre xylophone.

“C the Mastermind, your genius plan is to blow up people. I truly envy the stupid, you have such easy expectations to meet for yourself,” C muttered, rolling his eyes. “As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted, imitation is the purest form of flattery, but you tried to take my credit, for my acts. Imitation is one thing, plagiarizing is an outright insult.”

“How are you alive?”

“By continued breathing, I thought they taught you that in school. No matter,” C waved Corina off. “So, before you get any more bright ideas, please do not try to kill me again, and do listen to me. When the Wardens come, I want you to give them a note, and to tell them you are not the real C, absolving you of my crimes.”

Before Corina’s fingers could twitch, Zayne’s arm lashed out, splitting apart at the seams with sickening, wet slurps, and with serrated fangs, wrapped around Corina’s hand. Corina felt no pain, but saw the severed pipe that fed the toxic ammunition into her weapon flop about on the ground.

“Please pay attention, you have only 2 minutes and twenty seven seconds left before your bombs go off.”

“I haven’t se-” Corina started, then felt one of her fingers break and something slip into her palm as the rest of her fingers were forced to wrap themselves around it. Corina bit her lip to stifle the pain as best as she could. Years of scarring from science experiments gave her an excellent tolerance of pain.

“I apologize for the brutishness but you just do not shut up. I programmed your bombs to go off on a timer rather than by your kill switch. I had to give you the one bomb to see if you were truly stupid enough to try and kill me,” C crowed. He reached into his chest, pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen from his literal ribcage that parted and gave him access to his empty body cavity, and placed it on the ground in front of him. “On your knees, write down your apology and to absolve yourself of the title of C, and we’re done here. The longer you take, the more likely this won’t end well for you.”

“On my knees? Like some common whore? Do you think-?”

“A common whore has more sense than you, a common idiot,” C shot back. “In one day I have undone your idiotic master plan and taken even your Merixia under your nose. The only contest here that is left is the contest of patience, and I am admittedly close to losing that one.”

Corina had enough. She had enough toxin in her fingers, and she knew that he could not break all of them in time to stop her from enacting another one of her kill switches. Corina pressed a button that would cause a canister on her suit to fire forward and cover C with a flesh eating toxin, only to have it shot mid-flight and shattered before it could cause anyone any harm.

Both C and Corina looked up overhead at a window, and there was Sheriff Caitlyn, looking down her sights, aiming her rifle at both of them.

C blinked. Utterly distracted by this, Corina ripped her arm free and ran away from him as Caitlyn called out.

“C and Corina, surrender yourselves and you will not be harmed,” Caitlyn called out. “You have one chance- surrender peacefully!”

Corina stumbled away, gasping and wheezing, her arm shuddering.

C looked up, smiling and laughing. “She came. She actually came. Do you see this, Corina? Caitlyn recognized me. I thought she had gotten rusty. I am glad I did not have to escalate, but how did she figure it out? Ah, wait, Zayne never says positive. It’s Zaunite slang he uses, or a two syllable word for his small mind. Nor does he ask to trust him like that. It’s trust me, followed by some animal metaphor, like a whump on a shroom hunt. It slipped my mind. I can’t believe it, without her, it slipped-”

The bombs went off. Ripping through the factory, Caitlyn caught sight of C laughing as he slipped into the fiery green hell while Corina ran the other direction. Caitlyn had to slide down from the window to avoid the explosion of glass shards, cursing under her breath. So close to get two birds with one stone. She knew that Corina posing as C would get him to surface, his ego could not take imposters. Though Caitlyn may not have caught C, the wealth of information gathered from this one event alone was almost worth the loss. And while C will resurface, Corina would not if she got away now. So close to her target, but Caitlyn took a moment to look down the alleyway to make sure the knocked out Zayne was peacefully sleeping, and saw the lights of the Wardens’ vehicles speeding on their way.

If C had not changed the time for the Wardens’ arrival, this evening would have been absolutely catastrophic. The death toll would have been in the dozens for their officers, both good and bad. Caitlyn had wanted to capture Corina before the Wardens arrived, but it seemed that C had alternate plans in mind. The only reason she was delayed was because Zayne had to be found first, taken care of and supervised. Thankfully, backup for Caitlyn had arrived in time as well.

In fact, about backup, as Caitlyn circled around to the back of Corina’s factory, she soon heard an all too familiar voice yell, “Boom! In the face!” followed by a a shriek of surprise and a loud thud.

Caitlyn came across Vi hoisting of Corina onto her shoulder, Corina who was handcuffed and limp.

“Vi, you did not strike her, did you?” Caitlyn asked.

“Nah. I was going to but she just fell forward and passed out at my awesome sight.” Vi gave Corina’s shoulder a little pat as she continued, “Who knew this wallflower back at hq was C, huh?”

“That would be because she’s not C,” Caitlyn answered. “C was in the factory.”

“Wait- really?” Vi looked back at the now violently on fire, emitting smoke clouds of a variety of chemicals, factory. “Well shit. Guess he’s dead.”

“I highly doubt it. C has escaped worse. But now to find his next target-”

Caitlyn stopped herself. She bent down in front of Corina, looked down at the criminal’s hand curled into a fist, saw the purple and white pollen that stained Corina’s skin, and Caitlyn’s eyes dilated.

“Vi, drop her right now.”

Vi did not question Caitlyn, but she did not drop Corina.

“Vi?”

“Uh...Caitlyn...” Vi’s voice lowered, she whimpered, “I- I can’t- move.”

“Noxian oleander poisoning. Who knows what Corina did to it to make it work this fast. Damn it.” Caitlyn had to take a gamble.

As Caitlyn put on a pair of surgical gloves from her satchel her mind raced. This was an interaction between C and Corina. Corina was destructive, C was not for the most part, despite the contorted expression of absolute fear that remained on Corina’s face.

Caitlyn did not know the full extent of that meeting, but knew the pair exchanged some combat, or at least an explosion, but she needed to trust her read of C’s psychology. Caitlyn reached over to unfurl Corina’s fist by trying to pull free a finger. Caitlyn’s hand brushed against Corina’s thumb and immediately noticed the digit was tightened into an iron grip. However, Corina’s fore finger was broken and loose. This meant that though it hurt Corina, Caitlyn could pull the finger free from the stiffening grip and reveal a single vial stuffed in Corina’s palm.

As Caitlyn pulled the vial free, a note wrapped around the glass fluttered to the ground. Her eyes scanned it quickly, the message was short, but the weight of its words struck her like a ton of lead. Caitlyn uncorked the vial, gave it a quick sniff before she took out a spray cap from her satchel, jury-rigged it to fit on the vial with some tape, and sprayed Vi’s arm down.

Vi’s arm slowly, and with great effort, lowered.

“A solution of 90% rubbing alcohol, with a bit of soap and water, to at least remove the pollen and the urushiol oils of the oleander. We’ll have to have the doctor look you over, but this should help for now,“ Caitlyn explained.

Vi actually laughed and gave Caitlyn’s shoulder a soft, knuckled tap with her good arm. “Crap, Cait, you really have a gadget for everything, huh? Thanks.”

Caitlyn smiled, but did not answer.

That note on the floor, that read, “The only time I will give instead of take, a gift from one old friend to another. Hope to see you soon. -C” was a promise Caitlyn knew C would keep. Yet, Caitlyn could not help but notice that C’s methods were escalating. There were no casualties this time, but would there be next time? Even an accidental one? How did C know that Corina would escape the factory if she was doused with a potent enough oleander that it caused nearly instant paralysis in Vi?

The game was afoot once more, and more dangerous than ever.

[scottymcgeesterwrites]

Final Fantasy VI Review

Year: 1994

Original Platform: Super Nintendo (originally released as Final Fantasy III in the West)

Also available on: Playstation One (Final Fantasy Anthology), Game Boy Advance, Android, iOS, Steam

Version I Played: Game Boy Advance

Synopsis:

Terra is a slave used by the Gestahl Empire because of her magic powers. The Gestahl Empire seeks to hunt down espers (summons) and harness their powers too, effectively killing them. Terra escapes their clutches and falls into the hands of the Returners – a small band of rebels hoping to return freedom to the world.

Gameplay:

Final Fantasy VI doesn’t exactly add anything super-new to the gameplay unlike its predecessors. That doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong or boring with it. It has an ATB system and each character, like in Final Fantasy IV, specialize in certain jobs. Therefore, each character has a special unique ability that no other character can perform.

I find the style of the game unique for its time because you can easily split the game into two parts. There's a pivotal point in the story that changes everything. The first half is a typical story-driven RPG. The second half is actually more open world. With a huge cast of characters, you are not actually required to end the game with all of them. The second half of the game offers a unique style where you can take on the final boss with what you’ve got, or hunt down the rest of the cast members and then take on the final boss.  

 Graphics:

This is the SNES in its prime. Character sprites are much bigger, and the world looks so much more detailed and vibrant. Shadow looked weird though. Sometimes you had to squint to discern what his face actually looked like. Other than that, the game looks great! It’s notable for utilizing more graphics power from the SNES in some cutscenes, and also when you fly an airship.

The PlayStation One version again has a FMV sequence that hasn’t aged well at all. Okay, maybe it’s a tad bit better, but that’s not saying much.

Story:

One of the biggest debates in recent Final Fantasy fandom is asking whether Final Fantasy VI or Final Fantasy VII is better. While I won’t get into Final Fantasy VII much now, it was always the most popular game in the series. It seems that in recent years, gamers have retroactively judged Final Fantasy VI as the best Final Fantasy game of all time.

I wish I had appreciated more when I was a kid. When I first played it then, I actually despised it. I was much more critical about stories back then. For whatever reason, I didn't think the world building was coherent. I also wasn’t used to Final Fantasy games by then.

I finished Final Fantasy VI about four years ago, and that time I was taken by it. I became enlightened and completely changed my opinion of it from sour to sweet. I wish I could erase my memory on playing it only so that I could experience it for the first time and appreciate it for the first time. I had already known most about what happened in the story, so I really wish I could experience the shock and awe of it brand new. Final Fantasy VI does things with its story that no other Final Fantasy game has done. It has drama, it has brevity, it has an amazing cast of heroes and villains. To date, it has the most playable characters in a Final Fantasy game.

The plot even incorporates a little opera that you sit through.

 At first glance, Final Fantasy VI seems derivative. There is once again an evil empire seeking to control the world, and there is once again a rebellion. People often make the parallel to Star Wars, much like Final Fantasy II. The name “Returners” doesn’t quite stick with me personally as the name of an epic rebellion. Final Fantasy VI also created the recurring characters Biggs and Wedge, a further nod to Star Wars.

But you have to look past the simple setup of a ragtag rebellion fighting an evil empire. First of all, the steampunk setting is one of the most original in a Final Fantasy game to date, and hasn’t really been revisited. The world dabbles in late 19th century architecture, with fine arts and opera. The empire is only beginning to realize the ancient power of magic, and combines it with technology to make “Magitek”, starting a sort of “industrial revolution”. The opening scene to this game is one of the most memorable. Terra, under the empire’s mind control device, in her magitek armor with Biggs and Wedge, trudging through the snow as the opening credits roll by, comes off as a real live-action movie.

 While the official creators say that there isn’t a main character, I still say it’s Terra. If not, she’s at least the most important. She propels the plot forward. She’s one of those rare great female protagonists in a video game RPG. She’s more than just “a strong female character”. She has depth as she tries to find her place in the world, and other characters, such as the thief Locke, try to help her.

 Also, just like Final Fantasy V, Final Fantasy VI has its own villainous goofball - Ultros.

He’s not quite as charming as Gilgamesh, but he acts in the same manner regardless.

 Each character has their own story – no matter how small or big. They’ve all lost loved ones, or suffered hardships, and the central theme about the entire game is really about grief and dealing with it even in the face of nihilism.

 Nihilism comes in the form of Kefka - Emperor Gestahl's court mage. Kefka did the whole nihilistic evil clown thing before Heath Ledger's Joker in The Dark Knight. Kefka retroactively rose to popularity, rivaling longtime favorite villain Sepiroth from Final Fantasy VII as the best Final Fantasy villain.

 Final Fantasy VI deals with heavy topics. I was shocked that it even dared to show a scene of attempted suicide. Things get dark. Really dark. But Final Fantasy VI deals the darkness with such elegance. I admire its ability to treat such heavy plots for basically children.

The ending to this game is probably the most epic out of any Final Fantasy game. I can gush with details but this is meant to be a spoiler - free review. I just have to say – E P I C. But the most admirable thing I just have to say is that it treats Terra’s journey with the utmost respect and tact. It doesn’t try to define her by having some hokey romantic subplot.

Music:

Another legendary score. Given the tone and atmosphere of the story, the score reflects something darker. Right away, the opening titles before you begin is accompanied by foreboding music. With the exception of battle themes, the story demanded that Uematsu put away most of his drumming and rock undertones for a more conventional, instrumental score with pathos. It sounds most like the score to an actual fantasy movie, very operatic and Wagner-like.

Shadow’s theme sounds inspired by typical Western movie fare, being that he is a drifter. In fact, Final Fantasy VI’s score is diverse in tones with its character themes, which is obvious once you think about where all the characters come from. Cyan’s theme has Asian influences. The theme for the Veldt, a stretch of wilderness, has a jungle beat. Then of course there’s the opera music. Many Final Fantasy concerts, such as Distant Worlds, play the opera about the fictional characters Draco and Maria. Kekfa, the villain, has a jovial but sinister theme scattered throughout. Terra’s theme is practically the main theme of the game, and it too is referenced throughout.

The end credits song is a whopping 21 minutes and 36 seconds. It goes through every single character’s theme and more. The entire soundtrack is 3 hours long. I don’t think any other game at the time had a soundtrack that long.

 Notable Theme:

 “Dancing Mad”

To me, Dancing Mad is Nobuo Uematsu's magnum opus. It is a sprawling 8-minute epic for the final battle.

Verdict:

A must-play. Any RPG fan will love this game. Any RPG fan SHOULD play this game. There’s nothing obnoxious or vainglorious here. Every subsequent Final Fantasy game tried to live up to its drama and scope, but with all of them falling short ever so slightly.

Direct Sequel?

No. Thank God.

[kenbunshokus]

this is a (super late) update to this fic rec post! i was planning to just keep editing and updating that post, but it’s been so old it no longer appears on tumblr search system and all, so here we are. be ready for some old school zosans in the mix

all complete

absolute favorites will be noted with a ♡

list will be updated as i find more

story count: 30 fics

last update: jan 5th 2020

CANON-VERSE

Goings On by clarify  ♡

Zoro and Sanji understand each other, and sometimes have a very similar sense of humor. Even though they're worlds ahead of most, sometimes they can't help but to act their age.

easily one of my favorites. zoro and sanji are completely in character, being themselves and comfortable in each other’s spaces. for anyone who thinks zoro and sanji can’t get along in canon, this fic can easily prove them wrong.

Part Timer by 8ball ♡♡

Sanji really, really doesn't want to give Zoro a job at his restaurant. Zoro doesn't really even want to work there in the first place, but, well, there’s this thing with Sanji, and this thing with feelings and the whole thing is pretty damn stupid all together.

Zeff just wants grandkids. He’s too old for this bullshit anyways.

a wonderful, heart-wrenching, roller coaster ride of a post-series fic. this fic is not just a mere fic — it’s a zosan magnum opus with guest appearances by so many other characters, lots of crew hijinks and a must-read for everyone who craves for a happy ending for these good boys.

Say It Again by 8ball

Zoro tells Sanji how he feels. And then again. And again. 

since we’re talking about 8ball i just want you to know i’d rec everything they’ve ever written, but special mention to say it again — a classic miscommunication trope fic done well where the miscommunication stems from fundamental misunderstanding of each other’s principles and views instead of just some plot-convenient coincidences. and soft zoro. god, he is soft.

The Wedding Night by cuethe-pulse (lj)

Zoro had never expected any of this.

major character death warning. don’t let the first few scenes fool you. note the warning; the last few lines were like a punch in the gut for me, except, you know, the good kind of punch. also, a quick rec of a drabble by the same author to soothe the pain after this one.

Roronoa Zoro: World’s Greatest Bug Killer by insaneidiot ♡

Sometimes, Zoro's life really sucks. He should've known better than to make fun of Sanji's bug phobia, though...

zoro’s internal monologue is hilarious  — until today, this author is still my go-to expert on zoro’s voice, especially his more sarcastic side.

Quitting’s Easy by insaneidiot

Sanji decides to quit smoking. This is not quite so easy as he thinks it will be. Also, his crewmates (excluding Robin and Nami, of course!) are assholes.

fun, fun strawhat hijinks and oblivious sanji. the crew dynamics and especially sanji’s voice are pitch perfect. there’s a hint of luffy/nami that you can easily scroll past if it’s not your thing.

I can’t stop thinking that i can’t stop thinking by hieiandshino ♡

In which Brook changes tactics and Zoro is not amused. Everyone else is, though.

holy shit is this fic hilarious. i love comedy fics that manage to slip in thoughtful observations and character study in between the hijinks, and this fic pulls that off with flying colors. 

The Walls See All by threesipsmore

Reiju hides a snail cam in her brother's room.

fun short fic from reiju’s pov. there’s never enough zosan set in whole cake island arc and this fic delivers.

Stormbird by Judin ♡

The Straw Hats' first landing in the New World is on Arashi Island, where it looks like they'll be spending a fun week attending the local festival and making new friends. Until they spot a strange pirate ship in the harbour, and Sanji starts behaving oddly. The Straw Hats become entangled with the mysterious Gently Pirates, a crew that harbour many secrets, and whose captain is a man out of Sanji's past who has the power to tear the Straw Hat crew apart. 

it cannot be overstated how wonderful this fic is, and how it could’ve fit into the canon just nicely, like a better-written one piece movie, except with zosan. not only are sanji and zoro in character, every strawhat gets a spotlight and has pitch-perfect voices. brook is especially lovely in this fic.

Unintended Consequence by itsmylifekay

A group of marines charge, Zoro slices through them, and in that instant Sanji feels his own eyes grow wide. Because there, on the arm now outstretched towards him, steel glinting in hand, is the stupid bracelet he’d given Zoro. The bastard is actually wearing it.

there’s a reason this is the most kudo-ed zosan fic on ao3 right now — it’s so soft without being ooc, and there’s a quiet undercurrent of affection laid throughout the fic that will warm you up from the insides.

Somewhere Between Sorrow and Bliss by srididdledeedee

Sanji has never cared for winter.

He can see himself, is the thing. There are bits and pieces that poke through, but it’s not all him. It’s like staring in a fractured mirror. He knows, intellectually, that the person staring back at him is himself, but his face is splintered and his shape is distorted and his body is wrong.

a fantastic character study on trans!sanji and how he comes to terms with his identity with the help of his crewmates. supportive strawhats are always a lovely addition to a zosan fic

Give In To Love by libbylune

Zoro knows better than to think about it too much, but between the rowdy festivals and ancient unexplained temples on this island, it's hard to forget about wanting Sanji.

i love how this fic puts as much focus on the boys after the confession as it does before the confession. a good case fic with its own unique island adventure and i’m always a sucker for soft!zoro

Laundry by libbylune

Dealing with Sanji makes Zoro develop a lot of opinions about clothes.

there’s absolutely nothing hotter than bi!sanji who’s completely comfortable with his gender identity and sexuality. also gay disaster zoro fumbling his words whenever sanji is around is 1) accurate 2) hilarious.

Language of Swords by HaveMyWeedCookies ♡

It took them for a while but finally, Zoro asked if Sanji wanted to hold his sword.

i love fics that explore zoro’s relationship with his craft and his swords, and adding zosan into the mix is something i didn’t know i needed. an interesting outsiders pov zosan in the pov of zoro’s swords.

Ghost of a Chance by sabershadowkat

“I know, for sure, that I didn’t expect to miss everyone so much, including you.” Sanji cut a glance at Zoro and rephrased correctly, “Especially you.”

this fic handles tropes that are usually associated with character death fics, but manages to end it with a happy ending. zoro’s devotion here is heart-wrenching.

Idiot Romance by sabershadowkat

"This has to be a joke," Sanji muttered, poking at the colored petals. Zoro couldn't have just given him flowers.

a classic  — this is literally the first zosan fic i’ve ever read — and a lovely one at that. sanji is oblivious and zoro attempts romance, not that zoro ever needed to.

festival night by thisislegit

“ANOTHER FEAT BY THE WORLD’S STRONGEST MAN, JORIRI.” The woman turned to Mr. Mohawk and with faux sympathy said, “Oh! Sorry, sir. Maybe next time. We can’t always beat the best, but we can do our best and that’s what matters. Do we have any other takers? ANY OTHER TAKERS READY FOR THE STRONG MAN CHALLENGE? HOW ABOUT YOU SIR? MADAM? YOU OVER THERE? ARE YOU INTERESTED?”

“What kind of shit name is Joriri,” said Zoro and Sanji in unison.

i’m an absolute sucker for fics that have zoro and sanji simply hanging out and enjoying each other’s company, comfortable in a way they couldn’t with their other crewmates, and this fic exemplifies that. just them being little shits and having fun with one another.

No Victory in Hesitation & the Past Has Its Lessons by EudaimonErisornae & vageege

Zoro has a lot of things he wants to say to Sanji, but he just needs one more day. || Zoro tries to fix a mistake he made in the past.

major character death warning. i died a little bit inside after reading this tbh. there are some devil fruits-explained time travel hijinks, but mostly it’s this looming, grim inevitability of death that’s written so pervasively throughout the fic that really got me.

Imperatives by dollcewrites

Zoro is confident in saying that Sanji is a man who doesn’t do what he’s told. Which is why, when a command accidentally slips from Zoro’s lips during foreplay, he is expecting to hear the cook’s scoff as he continues to do what he pleases.

i don’t tend to do pwp, but this isn’t just one — it’s a completely in-character piece about their relationship and dynamics.

when you say by bluewalk ♡

It's a long time in coming. Usopp can promise, but.

this fic is as much sanuso as it is zosan, and usopp here is — still very much usopp, but also a very beautiful take on his character as someone who spent a lot of time behind sanji’s back, and realizes that when he watches sanji’s back, he gets to see zoro’s, too.

a complete guide to falling in love by ThousandSunny

Sanji was trained in the Bridal Arts; this does not go unnoticed by the rest of his crew.

while the main ship is still zosan, the fic also focuses a lot on zoro and sanji’s relationship with the rest of the crew, and it’s one of those fics that really makes you realize how much of a family the strawhats is. a lovely read all around.

destructivity is a poison that run through our veins by wasteofmind

Zoro thinks that, someday, they are going to kill each other.

a dysfunctional take of their relationship. it’s fascinating in the same way a car crash is fascinating  — there’s an undercurrent of something violent, something visceral. this is one of the fics that inspired me to write migratory animals.

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE

Ocean’s Child by 8ball  ♡

Here's the truth: Zoro couldn't swim. He fell in the water and sank like a stone because there had never been anyone to teach him how to move his arms. He forgot that if he screamed for help the water would get in his mouth, and he even opening his eyes hurt.

Here’s the other truth, the one that stays a secret: a mermaid saved him.

a fascinating retelling of the one piece canon with mermaid!sanji. it feels a lot like a love letter to the seas, and it’s mesmerizing how sanji’s mermaid backstory is seamlessly weaved into the one piece canon.

with you by Cirro

How to find your life partner in three easy steps: 1. Punch them in the face 2. Insult their cognitive abilities 3. Embarrass them so much they agree to marry you

a wholesome two-part modern au series. my personal favorite is the second part, where sanji brings zoro home to meet zeff — complete with the two of them teasing sanji in their own ways.

The Proper Reaction (or What To Do When Your Son Brings His Boyfriend Home by three_days_late

Holidays at the Baratie were always hectic, but it's nothing Zeff can't handle. Sanji's new boyfriend, on the other hand...

on the topic of meet-the-family: the only thing more fun than zoro meeting zeff is zoro meeting zeff and the entirety of baratie staff. also includes one of my favorite line about bi!sanji: “sanji loves nice girls and bad boys”.

Exclusive by cuethe-pulse

Zoro loves Sanji, Sanji loves Zoro. Zoro wants to be exclusive, so Sanji should, too. Right?

this is a circus/bakery au. yes, you read that right, and yes, it works. i went into this fic with a lot of doubts and came out very satisfied with how fleshed out everyone in this au is, and i’m forever in awe with how the author can set up an entirely separate, vivid universe with so few words.

Delivery by styx_in_the_mud

Sanji is stuck delivering pizzas when Patty is out of commission for a while. Zoro likes to order pizza after training. Both of them are sort of idiots, but Zoro can be smooth as fuck if he puts his mind to it.

a fun, in-character au with good ol’ banter and cute get-together.

The End of It All by xpiester333xx

Humans have been forced underground due to the effects of a chemical weapon that has made surface life impossible. Sanji lives in one of these underground colonies and though he dreams of bigger things his life has been mundane; spent following strict rules and obeying higher commands. Or it was, until a stranger shows up and changes everything.

the author labelled it as sci-fi au, but I personally think it’s more dystopian-like? either way, while this fic is on the long side, it manages to keep everyone in character until the very end, which is something that can’t be said for a lot of fics.

well, there we go! feel free to drop me an ask if you want to rec me fics or ask for a more specific/themed rec list; i’ll also update this post regularly !!

i also have an ao3 donutsandcoffee if you want to see my take on these dorks o/

[deploybits]

You are lucky some types of torture are legal, i now will have an anxiety attack looking at the sky

So here we are... The Ultima Weapon will almost certainly be housed in the depths of the complex. This is it, my friend! Gaius! Ah, Cid, my boy... You are late. There is something I always meant to tell you, yet the time never seemed right. It concerns your father. ...What of him? In the winter of his years, Midas came to abhor his part in Meteor. He told me that he wanted nothing more than to wash his hands of the whole sordid business. But he did not wash his hands of it. He helmed the project until the day it killed him! Come now, Cid... you must know that he did not have the luxury of choice. By the time he realized his error, it was too late. Meteor had him completely in its thrall. Shortly before his... transformation, mayhap sensing that something was amiss, your father confided to me all the regrets of his life. Most of them concerned you. Early on in your career, he realized that while you had a talent for devising armaments, it would never fulfil you. Long before you knew your own mind, he saw that you would be far happier using your knowledge for peaceful purposes, and the thought touched him. He was a changed man for it, though he could not let it show. You blew holes in this place just so you could say this to me!? What is it you want, Gaius!? I want you at my side, Cid. Take up your father’s mantle, and become the Empire’s lead engineer. It is your destiny. My father had a change of heart - you said so yourself! Besides, I have long known my destiny, and I assure you, it lies not with the Empire! A pity. And what of you, adventurer? Will you not consider making common cause with me? No? And I can expect no better answer than this? So be it. It was your strength that made me proffer my hand in friendship, and it is your strength that makes me proffer now my blade. Save as an ally, you are too dangerous to be let to remain. Run, Cid. Or stay. It makes no matter. You cannot escape the past. Gaius, wait! ...Damn it! Knowing Gaius, he is headed for the Ultima Weapon. If we find him, so too will we find our quarry. With these instruments, we can monitor every nook and cranny in the castrum. I think it’s time we divided our forces. Pray go on and give chase. I’ll track your movements from here and guide you through the complex. We’ll stay in contact via linkpearl. Be careful, all right? Ah, there she is! I trust you recognize our old friend. “Maggie,” was it? They must have shipped her here from Centri. Considering all she’s been through, it’s a wonder she’s still operational. Tough old girl! Now that you’re suitably armed, you can blast open that bulkhead. The external walkway will take you back there. Follow it till you come upon a way down to the lower level. That bulkhead is composed of a special alloy. Extremely tough. Ordinary fire won’t leave a mark, I’m afraid. You’ll need to divert all power to the magitek cannon, as I did so memorably once before. As you may recall, the armor’s core is like to expire from the strain, but there’s no help for it if we want to press on. Now, listen well. Press...<buzzzzzz>...the control...<fizzzzzz>...engage ancillary...then fire away. Don’t mind the warning lights. You’re a natural at this! All right, the way’s clear, but it’s just you and your own two feet now, so be careful. You have been leaving a fine mess in your wake, adventurer. Is someone there!? Garlond, old friend. How it warms the heart to hear your voice again after all these years. ...Nero? Is that you!? You sound well. It would seem this savage land agrees with you. The highest ranking tribunus of the XIVth... It was you all this time? Tell me, Garlond. How long do you intend to keep all the glory for yourself? Uh...what? You’ve lost me. Don’t play the fool with me. Ever since the Academy, I have been condemned to live in your shadow. By all objective measure, I was the more talented of the two of us, yet that fate counted for naught beside your privileged birth. You were admired as the young prodigy simply because your father was the great Midas nan Garlond! When you defected, I felt sure my star would finally rise... But by disappearing, you acquired the status of a legend - your reputed genius gaining credence merely by dint of your absence! Instead of cursing you for a traitor, the people actually came to think of you more fondly! To this day, you are still the young prodigy of magitek! I, meanwhile, have ever been made to feel second-rate - I who have continued to serve our nation faithfully. Whenever I fail to excel - why, it is only to be expected! Yet when I exceed all reasonable expectations, people proclaim that I walk in the footsteps of the great Cid nan bloody Garlond! Nero, I... I don’t know what to say. It matters not a whit what I achieve. Your existence has rendered mine worthless. Even Lord van Baelsar saw fit to offer you a place at his side - and this in spite of your betrayal! Did he extend any such offer to me - the man who has remained loyal to him for all these years? Why, no. He did not. Long have I endured this injustice...but no more. Lord van Baelsar is in the midst of activating the fully powered Ultima Weapon. It is my magnum opus - the creation that will win me the recognition I am due. I will not let anyone interfere. Nero! What are you-!? Ever since I first set foot in this benighted land, I have watched you - ever move you have made, every step you have taken. You have felled eikons, a feat made possible by the Echo, a peculiar power which shields you from their corrupting influence. It is of little wonder that my lord has taken an interest in you. As have I, if truth be told. It is my desire to harness your power for use in the Ultima Weapon. Should I succeed, Lord van Baelsar will surely take notice! Beside this, Garlond’s achievements will be as child’s play! Come, adventurer, and yield to me the secrets of your power! This changes...nothing... Ahahahaha! The Ultima Weapon is activated, and it brims with the power of eikons! Nothing can withstand its might! Are you all right!? What of Nero!? ...Fled!? Damn it! In the instant prior to the blackout, the instruments detected a massive power surge from the deepest chamber. Gaius is certain to be there! We have no time to waste! Word arrived from the Alliance a short while ago. It seems the Order of the Twin Adder has completed its blockade of Castrum Centri. What hands they can spare are hastening this way even as we speak, and likewise for the Maelstrom. All that’s left is to destroy the Ultima Weapon! ...I should warn you: the chamber which houses the target appears to be saturated with aetheric energies. There’s bound to be heavy interference. But even if we lose contact, you must go on. Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, all right? Look for the lift’s control panel - it’ll be somewhere nearby. Take the lift down, and you should find yourself in the chamber of the Ultima Weapon. Keep your eyes peeled - Gaius could be waiting for you down there. Oh, and don’t even think about dying. You’re too bloody useful! The interference is getting worse. I don’t think the connection will last much - Tell me...for whom do you fight? Hmph! How very glib. And do you believe in Eorzea? Eorzea’s unity is forged of falsehoods. Its city-states are built on deceit. And its faith is an instrument of deception. It is naught but a cobweb of lies. To believe in Eorzea is to believe in nothing. In Eorzea, the beast tribes often summon gods to fight in their stead - though your comrades only rarely respond in kind. Which is strange, is it not? Are the “Twelve” otherwise engaged? I was given to understand they were your protectors. If you truly believe them your guardians, why do you not repeat the trick that served you so well at Carteneau, and call them down? They will answer - so long as you lavish them with crystals and gorge them on aether. Your gods are no different from those of the beasts - eikons every one. Accept but this, and you will see how Eorzea’s faith is bleeding the land dry. Nor is this unknown to your masters. Which prompts the question: why do they cling to these false deities? What drives even men of learning - even the great Louisoix - to grovel at their feet? The answer? Your masters lack the strength to do otherwise! For the world of man to mean anything, man must own the world. To this end, he hath fought ever to raise himself through conflict - to grow rich through conquest. And when the dust of battle settles, it is ever the strong who dictate the fate of the weak. Knowing this, but a single path is open to the impotent ruler - that of false worship. A path which leads to enervation and death. Only a man of power can rightly steer the course of civilization. And in this land of creeping mendacity, that one truth will prove its salvation. Come, champion of Eorzea, face me! Your defeat shall serve as proof of my readiness to rule! It is only right that I should take your realm. For none among you has the power to stop me! I had not thought to be so hard-pressed. Your strength is...most impressive. Such power befits a ruler! Yet you lack the resolve to put it to proper use. A waste. Allow me, then, hero, to do that which you will not! Bear witness to the true power of the Ultima Weapon! But the Ultima Weapon is all-powerful! Why does my enemy still stand!? Can her strength truly be so great? It is the blessing of Light that confounds you. Lahabrea. Your foe acts under the protection of the Crystal she bears. So, this is what empowers her. Beyond mortal limits. If you are to prevail, the hammer of Darkness must needs be brought to bear upon the shield of Light. And so it shall, for the Ultima Weapon is host to a power of which you are as yet ignorant. Speak plainly, Ascian. The Heart of Sabik. It is the Weapon’s core - an enigma whose surface even the vaunted scholars of ancient Allag failed to scratch. The magic within has lain dormant for eons. Of what magic do you speak? A spell without parallel. Ultima. I sought the life force of the primals for no other reason but to quicken the core. For the true power of the Ultima Weapon lies within its now-beating Heart! Lahabrea... What have you done? No more than was necessary...for my god to be reborn. Damn you, Ascian! The hour is at hand! Behold but a sliver of my god’s power! And from the deepest pit of the seven hells to the very pinnacle of the heavens, the world shall tremble! Unleash Ultima! Ahahahahahaha! Such devastation... This was not my intention... Oh, Hydaelyn...it seems the task of keeping your champion alive has exhausted what strength you had left. Van Baelsar... Your enemy’s shield is broken. The rest I leave to you. We will speak later, Ascian. But first, I must deal with you. The question of who is mightier remains! Come, adventurer! Let us find the answer together! No... No, no, NO! Uh! Heed me... The subjects of a weak ruler must needs look to a higher power for providence... and their dependence comes at a cost to the realm. The misguided elevate the frail... And the frail lead the people astray. Unless a man of power wrests control...the cycle will never be broken. You... You of all people must see the truth in this. You who have the strength to rule... Pathetic. You boasted of unrivaled power. You were entrusted with the ultimate weapon. The ultimate magic! And still you failed. So much for the glory of man. The growing imbalance afflicting the planet must be redressed. If it is permitted to worsen, the very laws of existence - both aetheric and physical - will be warped beyond all recognition. Know you the root of this corruption? Hydaelyn! Like a parasite, she must be burned out if the planet is to recover. And naught but the return of the one true god will ensure her complete excision. Yet to pave the way for the master’s return, a chaotic confluence of untold proportions must needs be brought about. And that will necessitate the presence of the primals. needless to say, both you and your Scion accomplices can not be suffered to interfere in this endeavor. You will not leave this place alive. It is past time your flame was extinguished...“Bringer of Light.” If thou wouldst pierce the shadows...make thee a blade of Light. What!? The Light...it binds them... They are too many!

Aaaaaaaaarrrgh!!!

[smallblueandloud]

fsk emotions: the playlist

(i’d like to apologize in advance for how long this is going to get. UPDATE: yeah, this is around 4k, i am So Sorry.)

in case y’all weren’t aware, i have fitzskimmons emotions ALL THE TIME. my poor friends have to deal with me texting them at 11 pm like “i’m freaking out about fsk again” embarrassingly often. so, i figured i’d try to share some of those emotions with y’all, in the form of songs from my private fsk playlist on spotify. 

that playlist is 63 songs long. hopefully i will not feel the need to talk about ALL 63, but i’m not going to make any promises. y’all know what i’m like about this. i’m planning on giving you a list of the songs for your listening pleasure, and then go into detail about the lines / vibes from each song that i think especially fit the ship. we shall see how this goes.

just a warning: my music taste is very all over the place. i associate the sound of 80s love songs with fsk, so there’s gonna be a few of those, but also some weird obscure indie songs and some pop and just... bear with me, okay? these songs are in no particular order, because i have no idea how to make a “”legit”” playlist or whatever the heck y’all are doing to make such good mixes. i’m just gonna stick a tracklist here and move on.

can’t fight this feeling // reo speedwagon

gravity // sara bareilles

new year’s day // taylor swift

don’t go breaking my heart // elton john & kiki dee

dancing in the dark // bruce springsteen

born to be yours // kygo & imagine dragons

i choose you // sara bareilles

ordinary people // john legend

carry on // fun.

blackbird // the beatles

thunder road // bruce springsteen

the long and winding road // the beatles

the archer // taylor swift

army of angels // the script

paper rings // taylor swift

lucky // jason mraz & colbie caillat

wonderwall // zella day

team // noah cyrus

i melt with you // modern english

cornelia street // taylor swift

coroner’s report // molly ofgeography

two // sleeping at last

fair // the amazing devil

arms unfolding // dodie

making love out of nothing at all // air supply

all the song explanations are under the cut, because this is going to get long. there’s also ten honorable mentions if you manage to make it to the end of this. let’s get started!

1. can’t fight this feeling // reo speedwagon

i felt legally required to put this one first because i literally named my magnum opus after it. i like this song a lot on its own, but it specifically reminds me of fsk because the idea of your partner(s) as the place you will always gravitate towards is peak fsk for me. also, these three are canonically each others’ reassurance and rock and i’m just... i love them a lot, okay? this song’s imagery and lyrics have come to be inextricably associated with fsk for me and i love it a lot.

important lyrics: “And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight You're a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter's night”

“And if I have to crawl upon the floor, come crashing through your door Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore“

2. gravity // sara bareilles

this one goes second because it’s probably my favorite song of all time. i play it on repeat whenever i’m feeling sad or anxious or pining or happy or just... anytime, lmao. but i also think it’s a very fsk song, and more specifically the fitzdaisy relationship! not only does it have more of that “gravitating towards each other” theme (more literally in this case), but the lyrics are also... very much fitzdaisy, i think, who are very much each others’ safe space and have been vulnerable with each other from the very beginning.

important lyrics: “ Oh, you loved me 'cause I'm fragile When I thought that I was strong But you touch me for a little while And all my fragile strength is gone”

(although really every single lyric fits really perfectly, so go and check out this song! it’s genuinely my favorite song ever and i think everyone would benefit from a listen or two)

3. new year’s day // taylor swift

the most underrated song from reputation, this song is probably the most INTENSELY fsk song i’ve ever heard. these three have grown up together, have changed together, have left their mark on each other in ways that can never be undone. the thing i’m most nervous for in the series finale is the show completely ignoring that impact (along with all three’s relationships with coulson and may especially!). no matter their romantic configuration, none of them would be the same if they hadn’t known the others. and new year’s day really articulates that, along with a really sweet feeling of trust and the image of them cleaning up together after a party - which makes perfect sense when you think about canon, and how they’d stick together even after leaving the life-changing experience of shield. even though there’s no more life-changing adventures, they’re still going to be together, and that means something. y’all, this song is really good and the best fsk song ever and you NEED to listen to it.

important lyrics: “Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you And I will hold on to you”

“Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere”

4. don’t go breaking my heart // elton john & kiki dee

look, just let them be happy, okay? also, i really love the trust aspect of this song, which i associate intensely with the fsk relationship. after all of the betrayal and pain and suffering they’ve experienced, i really love thinking about how much all three must trust each other, even in canon. also i wrote a fic where all three danced to this song and now i won’t ever get that image out of my head.

important lyrics: “Don't go breaking my heart I couldn't if I tried Honey, if I get restless Baby, you're not that kind”

“And nobody told us 'Cause nobody showed us And now it's up to us, babe Whoa, I think we can make it“

5. dancing in the dark // bruce springsteen

okay, this song is a bit darker than the others but i am a secret lover of springsteen, shh. also the mood works VERY well for three agents of shield who haven’t gotten a break since they left college. i really like the idea of them making their own happiness in the middle of the darkness together, because that’s part of why i’m so emotional about them! they are each others’ safe space and protector!

important lyrics: “You can't start a fire Sitting 'round crying over a broken heart This gun's for hire Even if we’re just dancing in the dark”

6. born to be yours // kygo & imagine dragons

heck yeah, let’s talk about the fact that no one in the ot3 would be the same if they hadn’t met the others! not just that, but the fact that they support each other and are a big reason why each of them have made it through the pain of the series with, like, less trauma then they could’ve. fitz was there for daisy when she developed her powers and is the one who talked her into coming back in s4, daisy was there for jemma when she came back from maveth (and in the framework), and jemma and fitz have been supporting each other since they worked things out in s3. also, they know each other insanely well and i think this song does a great job of expressing that!

important lyrics: “I never knew anybody 'til I knew you I never knew anybody 'til I knew you And I know when it rains, oh, it pours And I know I was born to be yours”

7. i choose you // sara bareilles

they! change! together! thank you for coming to my ted talk! also, i’m just... very obsessed with the idea of them choosing to be together, choosing to try to work through their problems, even when there have been so many. i am also obsessed with the idea of them spending their lives together. leave me alone.

important lyrics: “We are not perfect we'll learn from our mistakes And as long as it takes I will prove my love to you I am not scared of the elements I am underprepared, But I am willing And even better I get to be the other half of you”

8. ordinary people // john legend

i really, really love this song, actually? i’m a big fan of a lot of his music lmao. but i like this song specifically because it’s about how complicated love can be sometimes, and i think fsk’s love gets really complicated sometimes! and like, despite it all, they love each other and they’re trying to work it out. but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s really hard sometimes! (shoutout to the fic i titled with a lyric from this song that exemplifies that exactly)

important lyrics: “I know I misbehaved and you made your mistakes And we both still got room left to grow And though love sometimes hurts I still put you first And we'll make this thing work but I think maybe we should take it slow”

9. carry on // fun.

first off, this song has INTENSE post-framework fitz vibes. this is very much how i headcanon his relationship with violence works after they escape from the framework and fuck canon. but also, just, the idea of them all healing together? the idea of them moving on together after shield? poetic cinema. chef’s kiss. they’ve all changed SO MUCH since the show started, and yeah, not all of that change is good! but at least they’re still together.

important lyrics: “You swore and said we are not We are not shining stars This I know I never said we are Though I've never been through hell like that I've closed enough windows to know you can never look back”

10. blackbird // the beatles

i don’t know what about this song reminds me of jemma but something in this song reminds me of jemma, and fitz and daisy helping her heal. regardless, i am So Into them helping each other heal! mostly because the way that the show refuses to give them a break is SO FRUSTRATING. (also it tends to involve them being soft with each other and i am Weak.)

important lyrics: “Blackbird singing in the dead of night Take these broken wings and learn to fly”

11. thunder road // bruce springsteen

this is probably my second favorite song of all time. i am Absolutely Unbiased For Sure. regardless, i adore the imagery of this song, the contrast between the poetic feeling of it and the down-to-earth lyrics. this song, to me, is about people coming back to each other at the end of a long long journey. being in love while tired and recovering from a long, painful, messy life. and that just fits them... so well.

important lyrics: “Well now I'm no hero That's understood All the redemption I can offer girl Is beneath this dirty hood”

“With a chance to make it good somehow Hey what else can we do now Except roll down the window And let the wind blow back your hair? Well the night's busting open These two lanes will take us anywhere“

(y’all do not understand how hard it was to not copy All The Lyrics. you really really have to listen to this song.)

12. the long and winding road // the beatles

EXACTLY THE SAME THING THAT I SAID FOR THE LAST SONG. god this song works so well for them. they are never going to be able to leave each other because they’re so interconnected and yeah, part of that is circumstance, but so MUCH of that is CHOICE. they CHOSE to spend time together, they CHOSE to spend time together, i’m getting emotional over here.

important lyrics: “The long and winding road That leads to your door Will never disappear I've seen that road before It always leads me here Lead me to you door”

13. the archer // taylor swift

this is THE definitive daisy pov song. try to tell me i’m wrong. you can’t. daisy showing vulnerability is a BIG DEAL because of how easily she deflects things! she shows vulnerability to people she loves, most notably mack, coulson, fitz, and jemma! it physically pains me to think about how much she trusts them, y’all. there’s also this sense of melancholy throughout the song, because she’s never going to be the person that she once was. I’m Upset, Y’all.

important lyrics: “Combat, I'm ready for combat I say I don't want that, but what if I do? 'Cause cruelty wins in the movies I've got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you Easy they come, easy they go I jump from the train, I ride off alone I never grew up, it's getting so old Help me hold onto you”

14. army of angels // the script

this song is courtesy of @theclaravoyant, who recommended this as THE fsk song, and i think she’s very right! they fight TOGETHER, y’all. i’m very emo about it. their love is TRANSCENDENT and helps them OVERCOME their obstacles and i’m Really Upset About It, okay?? this song especially sounds like jemma’s voice, but it works so well for any of them and i Love It.

important lyrics: “When they got me cornered Close to giving in Oh I feel you round me like a second skin”

15. paper rings // taylor swift

*sobbing* i just want them to be HAPPY. i think part of my feelings about this song stem from, like, how fsk manages to find love during really, really dark times? and manages to be in love with each OTHER during the events of the show, which are VERY DARK as i think we can agree. and yet they managed to get together! and they managed to stick together! and idk, y’all, i’m just so soft for permanent partnerships and people being Married(tm) and this song brings that in SPADES.

important lyrics: “Kiss me once 'cause I know you had a long night Kiss you twice 'cause it's gonna be alright Three times 'cause you waited your whole life”

“I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings Uh huh, that's right Darling, you're the one I want, and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this“

16. lucky // jason mraz & colbie caillat

this song just SCREAMS domesticity to me and no it’s absolutely NOT because i used a lyric from this song to title my collection of domestic fsk ficlets, i have no idea where you would get such a ridiculous idea. they are all BEST FRIENDS okay and they’re in LOVE and they come HOME TO EACH OTHER at the end of the day. they genuinely like spending time together. god, this song is so cute, i love it so much.

important lyrics: “I'm lucky I'm in love with my best friend Lucky to have been where I have been Lucky to be coming home again Lucky we're in love in every way Lucky to have stayed where we have stayed Lucky to be coming home someday”

17. wonderwall // zella day

before you tell me i’m being stupidly cliche, look at the artist. and then realize that the artist doesn’t make a different for how cliche i’m being. first off, this is such a wlw song (google that one car commercial if you don’t believe me) and skimmons is kind of. my peak wlw song. but also this song is so lovely because it’s about people persevering through challenges to be together, even their own feelings, and that’s VERY good and VERY fsk. i’m just very gay, alright? leave me alone.

important lyrics: “And all the roads we have to walk are winding And all the lights that lead us there are blinding There are many things that I would like to say to you But I don't know how Because maybe You're gonna be the one that saves me And after all You're my wonderwall”

18. team // noah cyrus

this song is from @bobbimorseisbisexual’s fsk playlist (thanks al i love you) and it’s VERY GOOD for this ship. god, i have so many emotions about them being on the same team (which is part of why it’s so FRUSTRATING when the show tries to split them up-). especially because trust is such a big aspect of their relationship? look, these are three people who have been betrayed a lot, even by each other. it’s so IMPORTANT that they trust each other to be on the same team!! (also this song is one of the only songs i’ve ever heard that’s apparently singing to both a man and a woman, and i’m gonna ignore the fact that it’s a duet. let me have my poly songs.)

important lyrics: “Whenever you're winning I'll give you strength, boy And I'll share your name, girl 'Cause I'll always be on your, I'll always be on your team Yeah, I'll always be on your team”

19. i melt with you // modern english

this song is sponsored by @florchis, who not only was the person that first told me about this song but also named her entire fsk collection after one of the lyrics. she has very good taste. first off i love how high-energy and happy this song is. declaring your love for someone is a VERY fun thing to do in the best of circumstances! and i just love the idea of them taking time for each other in the middle of all of their shield business. i love them so much, y’all.

important lyrics: “Moving forward using all my breath Making love to you was never second best I saw the world crashing all around your face (let me hear you) Never really knowing it was always mesh and lace (c'mon)”

“I'll stop the world and melt with you You've seen the difference And it's getting better all the time There's nothing you and I won't do”

20. cornelia street // taylor swift

YES, i know this is the FOURTH tswift song on this list. she’s really good at songwriting, okay? also... y’all.. the VULNERABILITY. the LONGING. the idea of having to deal with the very real fear of loss fits VERY well for a ship where everyone involved is in mortal danger three times a week. also, the idea of never being able to separate the memories of a place from the people? that’s peak fsk. i know i keep saying this but they’re all HUGELY INFLUENTIAL on each other and it’s a BIG DEAL!! they’re never going to get over this relationship, this love, and I’m Never Going To Get Over Them.

important lyrics: “And I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends I'd never walk Cornelia Street again That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend I'd never walk Cornelia Street again”

21. coroner’s report // molly ofgeography (aka @ofgeography)

first off, everyone should listen to this ENTIRE ALBUM because it’s VERY GOOD. secondly, i know this song is really sad but imagine this as steeling yourself for the series finale. canonverse fsk hurts SO MUCH, y’all, and i love them so much. the metaphor in this song is *chef’s kiss* and the guilt of losing love is.... yeah. i’m sad. please be sad with me.

important lyrics: “How do you bury love, and what gets carved into the stone? If I had waited by the window would love be safe and back at home?”

“We held hands in the procession, black and veiled and strange You said, ‘love was good when love was here,’ it didn't ease the ache“

22. two // sleeping at last

okay i definitely think that part of this is me being an extreme 2 and therefore considering this song the Peak of Romance. which is probably a little unhealthy but leave me alone. i don’t know enough about enneagram types to diagnose any of the ot3, but definitely this song resembles all of them to some extent, especially daisy. (i am in pain.) this song, to me, feels like daisy pining for fs in canonverse. (i am in PAIN.) she would ABSOLUTELY give parts of herself up for them and count on the fact that they wouldn’t notice. god, this hurts so much. i love this song so much. if it helps, i think in a happier universe they all also sacrifice parts of themselves for the others? which hurts too but in a good way.

important lyrics: “Tell me, is something wrong? If something's wrong, you can count on me You know I'll take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat”

“I just want to build you up, build you up 'Til you're good as new And maybe one day I will get around to fixing myself too“

23. fair // the amazing devil

this song is CRIMINALLY unknown. GO LISTEN TO IT RIGHT NOW AND THEN MEET ME BACK HERE. this song just screams fsk at me. the humor, the depths of love, the good-natured resentment, the depths of love... god. it’s so good. i definitely think the strength of their emotions for each other overwhelm them sometimes. i think they find comfort with each other, i think they tease each other, i think they’re disgustingly in love all the time. god.

important lyrics: “She promises to fight them all when it all becomes too much And he, he curses at the world for Leaving him behind and he's falling out of touch And she is stronger than he's ever been he knows And she brushes her hand through His hair, he's got so much fucking hair”

“And he holds her close just to keep the world at bay And when they're sure no-one can hear them She'll turn to him to say, she'll turn to him and say It's not fair, It's not fair how much I love you“

(yes i DID copy more than i’ve been copying for the rest, because the songwriting in this song and album are PHENOMENAL and YES i will harass y’all until you listen to it because LOOK AT HOW GOOD IT IS.)

24. arms unfolding // dodie

i know, i know, this is a really short song. but it’s really pretty and i think it fits daisy, like, extremely well. think about daisy during early s4, specifically. she loves them enough to break down her walls. that’s what this song is about. and that’s what i’m gonna go cry over now. god this post is so long what the heck.

important lyrics: “Hope I'm not tired of rebuilding 'Cause this might take a little more I think I'd like to try Look at you And feel the way I did before”

“You know I could live without or with you But I might like having you about“

25. making love out of nothing at all // air supply

okay, so i admit it, i’m actually a HUGE fan of really cheesy 80s music. but i really love this song for them? especially jemma. i think it fits jemma really well. first off, it’s that good old vulnerability with admitting that she doesn’t know everything! and it’s admitting that she specifically doesn’t know what she’s doing with this relationship! and admitting how much she loves both of them even though she might not have wanted to! and i think she’s just... so amazed, so so amazed at the way that fitz and daisy are able to forgive and be loving even when they’re in the worst situations? which is definitely a big message of this song. (oh jemma, i love you and your violent tenancies. i see al’s valid criticisms and i am Loving You Anyway.)

important lyrics: “I know all the rules and then I know how to break 'em And I always know the name of the game But I don't know how to leave you And I'll never let you fall”

“And I don't know how you do it Making love out of nothing at all”

jesus CHRIST this got long. i actually also had a bunch more songs that i didn’t have a LOT to say about but i thought they fit anyways, so uh, honorable mentions:

can’t help falling in love // elvis presley (”wise men say only fools rush in / but i can’t help falling in love with you”)

the longest time // billy joel (they’ve influenced each other)

after all // peter cetera & cher (they’re never going to be able to forget the influence they have on each other)

leave a tender moment alone // billy joel (daisy pov for skimmons. that is all)

she // dodie (i am Soft and Gay and skimmons is also Soft and Gay)

bremen // pigpen theatre co. (honestly idk what to say here, it’s just The Vibe)

say something // a great big world (similar vibe to ordinary people)

saturn // sleeping at last (Science and also Influence On Each Other)

celeste // ezra vine (thanks to al for this one too, i REALLY want to write a fic about them and this song at some point)

 you’re the inspiration // chicago (i just love the sound of this song. also i think all of them - but jemma especially - are inspired by the others to be better)

[mattbrothersscriptwriter]

My Top 20 Films of 2019 - Part Two

I don’t think I’ve had a year where my top ten jostled and shifted as much as this one did - these really are the best of the best and my personal favourites of 2019.

10. Toy Story 4

I think we can all agree that Toy Story 3 was a pretty much perfect conclusion to a perfect trilogy right? About as close as is likely to get, I’m sure. I shared the same trepidation when part four was announced, especially after some underwhelming sequels like Finding Dory and Cars 3 (though I do have a lot of time for Monsters University and Incredibles 2). So maybe it’s because the odds were so stacked against this being good but I thought it was wonderful. A truly existential nightmare of an epilogue that does away with Andy (and mostly kids altogether) to focus on the dreams and desires of the toys themselves - separate from their ‘duties’ as playthings to biological Gods. What is their purpose in life without an owner? Can they be their own person and carve their own path? In the case of breakout new character Forky (Tony Hale), what IS life? Big big questions for a cash grab kids films huh?

The animation is somehow yet another huge leap forward (that opening rainstorm!), Bo Peep’s return is excellently pitched and the series tradition of being unnervingly horrifying is back as well thanks to those creepy ventriloquist dolls! Keanu Reeves continues his ‘Keanuassaince‘ as the hilarious Duke Caboom and this time, hopefully, the ending at least feels finite. This series means so much to me: I think the first movie is possibly the tightest, most perfect script ever written, the third is one of my favourites of the decade and growing up with the franchise (I was 9 when the first came out, 13 for part two, 24 for part three and now 32 for this one), these characters are like old friends so of course it was great to see them again. All this film had to do was be good enough to justify its existence and while there are certainly those out there that don’t believe this one managed it, I think the fact that it went as far as it did showed that Pixar are still capable of pushing boundaries and exploring infinity and beyond when they really put their minds to it.

9. The Nightingale

Hoo boy. Already controversial with talk of mass walkouts (I witnessed a few when this screened at Sundance London), it’s not hard to see why but easy to understand. Jennifer Kent (The Babadook) is a truly fearless filmmaker following up her acclaimed suburban horror movie come grief allegory with a period revenge tale set in the Tasmanian wilderness during British colonial rule in the early 1800s. It’s rare to see the British depicted with the monstrous brutality for which they were known in the distant colonies and this unflinching drama sorely needed an Australian voice behind the camera to do it justice.

The film is front loaded with some genuinely upsetting, nasty scenes of cruel violence but its uncensored brutality and the almost casual nature of its depiction is entirely the point - this was normalised behaviour over there and by treating it so matter of factly, it doesn’t slip into gratuitous ‘movie violence’. It is what it is. And what it is is hard to watch. If anything, as Kent has often stated, it’s still toned down from the actual atrocities that occurred so it’s a delicate balance that I think Kent more than understands. Quoting from an excellent Vanity Fair interview she did about how she directs, Kent said “I think audiences have become very anaesthetised to violence on screen and it’s something I find disturbing... People say ‘these scenes are so shocking and disturbing’. Of course they are. We need to feel that. When we become so removed from violence on screen, this is a very irresponsible thing. So I wanted to put us right within the frame with that person experiencing the loss of everything they hold dear”. 

Aisling Franciosi is next level here as a woman who has her whole life torn from her, leaving her as nothing but a raging husk out for vengeance. It would be so easy to fall into odd couple tropes once she teams up with reluctant native tracker Billy (an equally impressive newcomer, Baykali Ganambarr) but the film continues to stay true to the harsh racism of the era, unafraid to depict our heroine - our point of sympathy - as horrendously racist towards her own ally. Their partnership is not easily solidified but that makes it all the stronger when they star to trust each other. Sam Claflin is also career best here, weaponizing his usual charm into dangerous menace and even after cementing himself as the year’s most evil villain, he can still draw out the humanity in such a broken and corrupt man.

Gorgeously shot in the Academy ratio, the forest landscape here is oppressive and claustrophobic. Kent also steps back into her horror roots with some mesmerising, skin crawling dream scenes that amplify the woozy nightmarish tone and overbearing sense of dread. Once seen, never forgotten, this is not going to be everyone’s cup of tea (and that’s fine) but when cinema can affect you on such a visceral level and be this powerful, reflective and honest about our own past, it’s hard to ignore. Stunning.

8. The Irishman

Aka Martin Scorsese’s magnum opus, I did manage to see this one in a cinema before the Netflix drop and absolutely loved it. I’ve watched 85 minute long movies that felt longer than this - Marty’s mastery of pace, energy and knowing when to let things play out in agonising detail is second to none. This epic tale of  the life of Frank Sheeran (Robert De Niro) really is the cinematic equivalent of having your cake and eating it too, allowing Scorsese to run through a greatest hits victory lap of mobster set pieces, alpha male arguments, a decades spanning life story and one (last?) truly great Joe Pesci performance before simply letting the story... continue... to a natural, depressing and tragic ending, reflecting the emptiness of a life built on violence and crime.

For a film this long, it’s impressive how much the smallest details make the biggest impacts. A stammering phone call from a man emotionally incapable of offering any sort of condolence. The cold refusal of forgiveness from a once loving daughter. A simple mirroring of a bowl of cereal or a door left slightly ajar. These are the parts of life that haunt us all and it’s what we notice the most in a deliberately lengthy biopic that shows how much these things matter when everything else is said and done. The violence explodes in sudden, sharp bursts, often capping off unbearably tense sequences filled with the everyday (a car ride, a conversation about fish, ice cream...) and this contrast between the whizz bang of classic Scorsese and the contemplative nature of Silence era Scorsese is what makes this film feel like such an accomplishment. De Niro is FINALLY back but it’s the memorably against type role for Pesci and an invigorated Al Pacino who steals this one, along with a roll call of fantastic cameos, with perhaps the most screentime given to the wonderfully petty Stephen Graham as Tony Pro, not to mention Anna Paquin’s near silent performance which says more than possibly anyone else. 

Yes, the CG de-aging is misguided at best, distracting at worst (I never really knew how old anyone was meant to be at any given time... which is kinda a problem) but like how you get used to it really quickly when it’s used well, here I kinda got past it being bad in an equally fast amount of time and just went with it. Would it have been a different beast had they cast younger actors to play them in the past? Undoubtedly. But if this gives us over three hours of Hollywood’s finest giving it their all for the last real time together, then that’s a compromise I can live with.

7. The Last Black Man in San Francisco

Wow. I was in love with this film from the moving first trailer but then the film itself surpassed all expectations. This is a true indie film success story, with lead actor Jimmie Fails developing the idea with director Joe Talbot for years before Kickstarting a proof of concept and eventually getting into Sundance with short film American Paradise, which led to the backing of this debut feature through Plan B and A24. The deeply personal and poetic drama follows a fictionalised version of Jimmie, trying to buy back an old Victorian town house he claims was built by his grandfather, in an act of rebellion against the increasingly gentrified San Francisco that both he and director Talbot call home.

The film is many things - a story of male friendship, of solidarity within our community, of how our cities can change right from underneath us - it moves to the beat of it’s own drum, with painterly cinematography full of gorgeous autumnal colours and my favourite score of the year from Emile Mosseri. The performances, mostly by newcomers or locals outside of brilliant turns from Jonathan Majors, Danny Glover and Thora Birch, are wonderful and the whole thing is such a beautiful love letter to the city that it makes you ache for a strong sense of place in your own home, even if your relationship with it is fractured or strained. As Jimmie says, “you’re not allowed to hate it unless you love it”.

For me, last year’s Blindspotting (my favourite film of the year) tackled gentrification within California more succinctly but this much more lyrical piece of work ebbs and flows through a number of themes like identity, family, memory and time. It’s a big film living inside a small, personal one and it is not to be overlooked.

6. Little Women

I had neither read the book nor seen any prior adaptation of Louisa May Alcott’s 1868 novel so to me, this is by default the definitive telling of this story. If from what I hear, the non linear structure is Greta Gerwig’s addition, then it’s a total slam dunk. It works so well in breaking up the narrative and by jumping from past to present, her screenplay highlights certain moments and decisions with a palpable sense of irony, emotional weight or knowing wink. Getting to see a statement made with sincere conviction and then paid off within seconds, can be both a joy and a surefire recipe for tears. Whether it’s the devastating contrast between scenes centred around Beth’s illness or the juxtaposition of character’s attitudes to one another, it’s a massive triumph. Watching Amy angrily tell Laurie how she’s been in love with him all her life and then cutting back to her childishly making a plaster cast of her foot for him (’to remind him how small her feet are’) is so funny. 

Gerwig and her impeccable cast bring an electric energy to the period setting, capturing the big, messy realities of family life with a mix of overwhelming cross-chatter and the smallest of intimate gestures. It’s a testament to the film that every sister feels fully serviced and represented, from Beth’s quiet strength to Amy’s unforgivable sibling rivalry. Chris Cooper’s turn as a stoic man suffering almost imperceptible grief is a personal heartbreaking favourite. 

The book’s (I’m assuming) most sweeping romantic statements are wonderfully delivered, full of urgent passion and relatable heartache, from Marmie’s (Laura Dern) “I’m angry nearly every day of my life” moment to Jo’s (Saoirse Ronan) painful defiance of feminine attributes not being enough to cure her loneliness. The sheer amount of heart and warmth in this is just remarkable and I can easily see it being a film I return to again and again.

5. Booksmart

2019 has been a banner year for female directors, making their exclusion from some of the early awards conversations all the more damning. From this list alone, we have Lulu Wang, Jennifer Kent and Greta Gerwig. Not to mention Lorene Scafaria (Hustlers), Melina Matsoukas (Queen & Slim), Jocelyn DeBoer & Dawn Luebbe (Greener Grass), Sophie Hyde (Animals) and Rose Glass (Saint Maud - watch out for THIS one in 2020, it’s brilliant). Perhaps the most natural transition from in front of to behind the camera has been made by Olivia Wilde, who has created a borderline perfect teen comedy that can make you laugh till you cry, cry till you laugh and everything in-between.

Subverting the (usually male focused) ‘one last party before college’ tropes that fuel the likes of Superbad and it’s many inferior imitators, Booksmart follows two overachievers who, rather than go on a coming of age journey to get some booze or get laid, simply want to indulge in an insane night of teenage freedom after realising that all of the ‘cool kids’ who they assumed were dropouts, also managed to get a place in all of the big universities. It’s a subtly clever remix of an old favourite from the get go but the committed performances from Kaitlyn Dever and Beanie Feldstein put you firmly in their shoes for the whole ride. 

It’s a genuine blast, with big laughs and a bigger heart, portraying a supportive female friendship that doesn’t rely on hokey contrivances to tear them apart, meaning that when certain repressed feelings do come to the surface, the fallout is heartbreaking. As I stated in a twitter rave after first seeing it back in May, every single character, no matter how much they might appear to be simply representing a stock role or genre trope, gets their moment to be humanised. This is an impeccably cast ensemble of young unknowns who constantly surprise and the script is a marvel - a watertight structure without a beat out of place, callbacks and payoffs to throwaway gags circle back to be hugely important and most of all, the approach taken to sexuality and representation feels so natural. I really think it is destined to be looked back on and represent 2019 the way Heathers does ‘88, Clueless ‘95 or Easy A 2010. A new high benchmark for crowd pleasing, indie comedy - teen or otherwise.

4. Ad Astra

Brad Pitt is one of my favourite actors and one who, despite still being a huge A-lister even after 30 years in the game, never seems to get enough credit for the choices he makes, the movies he stars in and also the range of stories he helps produce through his company, Plan B. 2019 was something of a comeback year for Pitt as an actor with the insanely measured and controlled lead performance seen here in Ad Astra and the more charismatic and chaotic supporting role in Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood.

I love space movies, especially those that are more about broken people blasting themselves into the unknown to search for answers within themselves... which manages to sum up a lot of recent output in this weirdly specific sub-genre. First Man was a devastating look at grief characterised by a man who would rather go to a desolate rock than have to confront what he lost, all while being packaged as a heroic biopic with a stunning score. Gravity and The Martian both find their protagonists forced to rely on their own cunning and ingenuity to survive and Interstellar looked at the lengths we go to for those we love left behind. Smaller, arty character studies like High Life or Moon are also astounding. All of this is to say that Ad Astra takes these concepts and runs with them, challenging Pitt to cross the solar system to talk some sense into his long thought dead father (Tommy Lee Jones). But within all the ‘sad dad’ stuff, there’s another film in here just daring you to try and second guess it - one that kicks things off with a terrifying free fall from space, gives us a Mad Max style buggy chase on the moon and sidesteps into horror for one particular set-piece involving a rabid baboon in zero G! It manages to feel so completely nuts, so episodic in structure, that I understand why a lot of people were turned off - feeling that the overall film was too scattershot to land the drama or too pondering to have any fun with. I get the criticisms but for me, both elements worked in tandem, propelling Pitt on this (assumed) one way journey at a crazy pace whilst sitting back and languishing in the ‘bigger themes’ more associated with a Malik or Kubrick film. Something that Pitt can sell me on in his sleep by this point.

I loved the visuals from cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema (Interstellar), loved the imagination and flair of the script from director James Gray and Ethan Gross and loved the score by Max Richter (with Lorne Balfe and Nils Frahm) but most of all, loved Pitt, proving that sometimes a lot less, is a lot more. The sting of hearing the one thing he surely knew (but hoped he wouldn’t) be destined to hear from his absent father, acted almost entirely in his eyes during a third act confrontation, summed up the movie’s brilliance for me - so much so that I can forgive some of the more outlandish ‘Mr Hyde’ moments of this thing’s alter ego... like, say, riding a piece of damaged hull like a surfboard through a meteor debris field! 

3. Avengers: Endgame

It’s no secret that I think Marvel, the MCU in particular, have been going from strength to strength in recent years, slowly but surely taking bigger risks with filmmakers (the bonkers Taika Waititi, the indie darlings of Ryan Coogler, Cate Shortland and Chloe Zhao) whilst also carefully crafting an entertaining, interconnected universe of characters and stories. But what is the point of building up any movie ‘universe’ if you’re not going to pay it off and Endgame is perhaps the strongest conclusion to eleven years of movie sequels that fans could have possibly hoped for.

Going into this thing, the hype was off the charts (and for good reason, with it now being the highest grossing film of all time) but I remember souring on the first entry of this two-parter, Infinity War, during the time between initial release and Endgame’s premiere. That film had a game-changing climax, killing off half the heroes (and indeed the universe’s population) and letting the credits role on the villain having achieved his ultimate goal. It was daring, especially for a mammoth summer blockbuster but obviously, we all knew the deaths would never be permanent, especially with so many already-announced sequels for now ‘dusted’ characters. However, it wasn’t just the feeling that everything would inevitably be alright in the end. For me, the characters themselves felt hugely under-serviced, with arguably the franchise’s main goody two shoes Captain America being little more than a beardy bloke who showed up to fight a little bit. Basically what I’m getting at is that I felt Endgame, perhaps emboldened by the giant runtime, managed to not only address these character slights but ALSO managed to deliver the most action packed, comic booky, ‘bashing your toys together’ final fight as well.

It’s a film of three parts, each pretty much broken up into one hour sections. There’s the genuinely new and interesting initial section following our heroes dealing with the fact that they lost... and it stuck. Thor angrily kills Thanos within the first fifteen minutes but it’s a meaningless action by this point - empty revenge. Cutting to five years later, we get to see how defeat has affected them, for better or worse, trying to come to terms with grief and acceptance. Cap tries to help the everyman, Black Widow is out leading an intergalactic mop up squad and Thor is wallowing in a depressive black hole. It’s a shocking and vibrantly compelling deconstruction of the whole superhero thing and it gives the actors some real meat to chew on, especially Robert Downy Jr here who goes from being utterly broken to fighting within himself to do the right thing despite now having a daughter he doesn’t want to lose too. Part two is the trip down memory lane, fan service-y time heist which is possibly the most fun section of any of these movies, paying tribute to the franchise’s past whilst teetering on a knife’s edge trying to pull off a genuine ‘mission impossible’. And then it explodes into the extended finale which pays everyone off, demonstrates some brilliantly imaginative action and sticks the landing better than it had any right to. In a year which saw the ending of a handful of massive geek properties, from Game of Thrones to Star Wars, it’s a miracle even one of them got it right at all. That Endgame managed to get it SO right is an extraordinary accomplishment and if anything, I think Marvel may have shot themselves in the foot as it’s hard to imagine anything they can give us in the future having the intense emotional weight and momentum of this huge finale.

2. Knives Out

Rian Johnson has been having a ball leaping into genre sandpits and stirring shit up, from his teen spin on noir in Brick to his quirky con man caper with The Brothers Bloom, his time travel thriller Looper and even his approach to the Star Wars mythos in The Last Jedi. Turning his attention to the relatively dead ‘whodunnit’ genre, Knives Out is a perfect example of how to celebrate everything that excites you about a genre whilst weaponizing it’s tropes against your audience’s baggage and preconceptions.

An impeccable cast have the time of their lives here, revelling in playing self obsessed narcissists who scramble to punt the blame around when the family’s patriarch, a successful crime novelist (Christopher Plummer), winds up dead. Of course there’s something fishy going on so Daniel Craig’s brilliantly dry southern detective Benoit Blanc is called in to investigate.There are plenty of standouts here, from Don Johnson’s ignorant alpha wannabe Richard to Michael Shannon’s ferocious eldest son Walt to Chris Evan’s sweater wearing jock Ransom, full of unchecked, white privilege swagger. But the surprise was the wholly sympathetic, meek, vomit prone Marta, played brilliantly by Ana de Armas, cast against her usual type of sultry bombshell (Knock Knock, Blade Runner 2049), to spearhead the biggest shake up of the genre conventions. To go into more detail would begin to tread into spoiler territory but by flipping the audience’s engagement with the detective, we’re suddenly on the receiving end of the scrutiny and the tension derived from this switcheroo is genius and opens up the second act of the story immensely.

The whole thing is so lovingly crafted and the script is one of the tightest I’ve seen in years. The amount of setup and payoff here is staggering and never not hugely satisfying, especially as it heads into it’s final stretch. It really gives you some hope that you could have such a dense, plotty, character driven idea for a story and that it could survive the transition from page to screen intact and for the finished product to work as well as it does. I really hope Johnson returns to tell another Benoit Blanc mystery and judging by the roaring box office success (currently over $200 million worldwide for a non IP original), I certainly believe he will.

1. Eighth Grade

My film of the year is another example of the power of cinema to put us in other people’s shoes and to discover the traits, fears, joys and insecurities that we all share irregardless. It may shock you to learn this but I have never been a 13 year old teenage girl trying to get by in the modern world of social media peer pressure and ‘influencer’ culture whilst crippled with personal anxiety. My school days almost literally could not have looked more different than this (less Instagram, more POGs) and yet, this is a film about struggling with oneself, with loneliness, with wanting more but not knowing how to get it without changing yourself and the careless way we treat those with our best interests at heart in our selfish attempt to impress peers and fit in. That is understandable. That is universal. And as I’m sure I’ve said a bunch of times in this list, movies that present the most specific worldview whilst tapping into universal themes are the ones that inevitably resonate the most.

Youtuber and comedian Bo Burnham has crafted an impeccable debut feature, somehow portraying a generation of teens at least a couple of generations below his own, with such laser focused insight and intimate detail. It’s no accident that this film has often been called a sort of social-horror, with cringe levels off the charts and recognisable trappings of anxiety and depression in every frame. The film’s style services this feeling at every turn, from it’s long takes and nauseous handheld camerawork to the sensory overload in it’s score (take a bow Anna Meredith) and the naturalistic performances from all involved. Burnham struck gold when he found Elsie Fisher, delivering the most painful and effortlessly real portrayal of a tweenager in crisis as Kayla. The way she glances around skittishly, the way she is completely lost in her phone, the way she talks, even the way she breathes all feeds into the illusion - the film is oftentimes less a studio style teen comedy and more a fly on the wall documentary. 

This is a film that could have coasted on being a distant, social media based cousin to more standard fare like Sex Drive or Superbad or even Easy A but it goes much deeper, unafraid to let you lower your guard and suddenly hit you with the most terrifying scene of casually attempted sexual aggression or let you watch this pure, kindhearted girl falter and question herself in ways she shouldn’t even have to worry about. And at it’s core, there is another beautiful father/daughter relationship, with Josh Hamilton stuck on the outside looking in, desperate to help Kayla with every fibre of his being but knowing there are certain things she has to figure out for herself. It absolutely had me and their scene around a backyard campfire is one of the year’s most touching.

This is a truly remarkable film that I think everyone should seek out but I’m especially excited for all the actual teenage girls who will get to watch this and feel seen. This isn’t about the popular kid, it isn’t about the dork who hangs out with his or her own band of misfits. This is about the true loner, that person trying everything to get noticed and still ending up invisible, that person trying to connect through the most disconnected means there is - the internet - and everything that comes with it. Learning that the version of yourself you ‘portray’ on a Youtube channel may act like they have all the answers but if you’re kidding yourself then how do you grow? 

When I saw this in the cinema, I watched a mother take her seat with her two daughters, aged probably at around nine and twelve. Possibly a touch young for this, I thought, and I admit I cringed a bit on their behalf during some very adult trailers but in the end, I’m glad their mum decided they were mature enough to see this because a) they had a total blast and b) life simply IS R rated for the most part, especially during our school years, and those girls being able to see someone like Kayla have her story told on the big screen felt like a huge win. I honestly can’t wait to see what Burnham or Fisher decide to do next. 2019 has absolutely been their year... and it’s been a hell of a year.

[sepublic]

Does anyone ever have this happen to them, where... You start writing a fanfic based off of another series, or whatever.

But this fanfic... You end up making a bunch of OCs for it. You take a character who admittedly doesn’t have too much of a personality in the original canon content, and expand on them- Expand on them wildly, or outright reimagine them completely. And you do this to multiple other obscure characters from that series that barely anybody remembers, not even the creators and writers. 

You establish an intricate network of lore, world building, and in-universe systems. You have a deep, complex plot with plenty of character interaction and development, themes and narratives, and so forth, ALL within this one fanfic that was just meant to be a spin-off story, with enough room left so it could be hypothetically canon, or at least not contradict the current canon too much.

Eventually, what started off as this small, short little story you did for fun becomes its own thing. Its own world, with its own diverse cast of characters, factions, and so forth. There’s an intricate timeline of events, of increasing scale and relevance. One-off characters who were barely even named in the original series are suddenly reinvented into complex, fully three-dimensional people with their own backstories, motivations, and desires. They’re practically your own OCs at this point, if it weren’t for the names and appearance; And sometimes only one of the two!

You have your own fully-intricate storyline and premise laid out, with a beginning, middle, and conclusion. It’s all in place...

And then you remember this was supposed to be a one-off, spin-off fanfic that doesn’t directly contradict the canon of the series you were a fan of. At which point, seeing how other people make OCs, and considering the potential of total creative freedom...

...Why not just make it your own thing?

Sure, a few characters may have to be renamed, slightly redesigned, and so on and so forth. You’d probably have to change the lore a bit to not so blatantly mirror the original series you wrote about. But otherwise, this is basically your own original creation, right? So why not embrace the newfound independence for your WIP, let it be its own thing and establish its own name? And, since you’ve got a few other bare-bones WIPs, why not incorporate them in the new lore to fill out the gaps left by the original canon of the series you were a fan of?

That... That’s basically what’s happening with my Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon Trilogy.

For context; I like Lego Ninjago. Loved the theme growing up as a kid, and it was SUPER influential in making me the story-teller and artist I am today. It’s what initially inspired me to write, honestly, and it was by writing fanfics that I was able to complete a story of my own for the first time in my entire life! My first completed story was the first ‘installment’ in this trilogy, ~The Adventures of Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon~!

(Yeah, I was trying to be pretentious as a kid in adding those squiggles. Ordinarily I wouldn’t include them now, but they’re so nostalgic and something I’m so used to that I’ve decided to keep them in anyway. Sue me.)

And then my second completed story; The next installment of this trilogy, ~The Tales of Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon~! tToLMG is special to me in that it was supposed to be about the length of the first story... But then somewhere along the way, it became a little over 1,900 pages.

I don’t mean to brag, but at the same time... It IS something I’m proud of, and honestly, I’d say tToLMG is my Magnum Opus of sorts. It’s the story with the most time, character, emotion, planning, pain, and sweat and tears put into it. I’ve had my fingers ache typing that story, planning things out... I truly felt the thrill of writing with this one. I was triumphant when I finally finished it, and boy was I excited for ~The Chronicles of Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon~, the bigger and badder final installment, the conclusion to the prequel trilogy! And even THAT was nothing compared to the plans I had for hypothetical future waves and enemies for Ninjago, all tying back to previously-established lore and characters!

But then...

...WELL, things didn’t turn out so well. I guess I just lost my passion, my spark for writing, or something like that. I lost my flow and touch, I became frustrated, and I’ve since taken a multiple-year hiatus on it that’s lasted since late 2015. If we want to be technical, I did try rewriting tCoLMG from scratch, but I haven’t quite been satisfied with those attempts. I won’t deny that I came across my limits as a writer, and while I feel like I’ve improved, I’m still not quite ready to go back. I don’t think I’ll ever be, to be honest; The fact of the matter is, amidst me reimagining the story and characters, there’s just way too much to account for. PLUS, I already have other WIPs, like Bionicle: RaE.

But for now, I think it’s more or less official- The Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon trilogy, and my planned stories beyond those prequel fics, are now going to be their own independent series, separate from Ninjago. I still love Ninjago, don’t get me wrong, but clearly I have a different vision than Lego, and that’s perfectly fine. I mean, my version of Lloyd himself is a completely different character than the Lego version at this point, and HE’s the main character!

So, yeah- Just as a heads-up, for anyone who remembers or is curious about those last few art-pieces I posted, about T, Yelatem, and Arakchos... They were all originally part of a spin-off fanfic, but now they’re part of their own, separate, original series. I’m a little excited to how I’ll reimagine and restructure what I’ve planned, especially now that I feel like I’ve matured as a writer and person, and been exposed to other forms of media that have helped inspire me on a creative level!

As for what this new ‘series’ of mine will be called, I’m still figuring that out. I’ve got a few prototype names, such as Goldenchigo; What that means, I still don’t know, but it sounds cool and distinct so I like it! There’s also Golden Dream... or alternatively, Golden-Heart Dream. 

One thing is certain; I’ll probably, finally get back to exploring the concept of this original story I made for myself. And, hey, with plans sort of changing now that the LMG Trilogy is its own thing in its own universe, maybe I can talk about the plans I had for tCoLMG, even reveal some characters I never got to post or write about properly! I’ll probably do that AFTER I finish transcribing tToLMG to Ao3, though, and THAT’s going to take a while; And I don’t intend to do that until quite a while later, whenever that is!

[happymetalgirl]

July 2020

Machine Head - Civil Unrest

On this two-song EP, Robb Flynn once again leans into spur-of-the-moment inspiration in an effort to jolt Machine Head out of the creative fatigue that plagued the polarizing Catharsis, but unfortunately the approach that didn’t really work for “Volatile” doesn’t really work for “Stop the Bleeding” or “Bulletproof”, and it all adds up upon the revelation that these songs are constructed from scraps off the Catharsis kitchen floor. Robb’s finger is on the pulse of the tension underlying American politics and his heart is in the right place (which I commend him for his steadfastness to in the face of the apparently sizable chud subset of Machine Head’s fanbase), he just needs to take his delivery a little off the nose. Of the two songs, “Bulletproof” is definitely the stronger and more hard-hitting, while the goofy 2000′s metalcore melodicism of “Stop the Bleeding” meshes poorly with the grim subject matter Robb attaches to the track. In the grand scheme of Machine Head’s career, this EP (and the two non-album singles that preceded it last year) is disappointing filler that does nothing to lift the band out of the dry creative well they’ve found themselves in.

5/10

Khemmis - More Songs About Death, Vol. 1

A much more solid two-track EP, Khemmis’ More Songs About Death, Vol. 1 is comprised of a groovy cover of Misfits’ “Skulls” and an acoustic rendition of the folk song, “A Conversation with Death”, that the band had covered electrically for a split they did with Spirit Adrift. The band adapt well to the more original acoustic style of the latter song, as soulful as ever even with acoustic subtlety replacing their open-hearted doom metal. As for the Misfits cover, the band apply their signature harmonic doom guitar work to give it a signature seal while adhering to the core foundation of the song, and they show that the song does take to their brand of doom quite well. After Desolation and being signed to Nuclear Blast, Khemmis sure were excited to get working on their fourth LP. Now that of course sits on the list of many projects the pandemic has forcefully postponed, but these kinds of offerings and the band’s hinting that they might just come out of this with two albums’ worth of material is helping make the wait a little more bearable. Thank you as always, Khemmis.

more respect to Khemmis/10

Inter Arma - Garbers Days Revisited

Coming off the back of their magnum opus, Sulphur English, Inter Arma’s offering to hold the quarantined world over until the band’s next opus is a quick (by their standards) covers album of metal and hardcore classics, as well as some surprising classic and southern rock tunes. And the band manage the eight diverse songs with an impressive display of two-way adaptability. Turning “The Girl Who Lives on Heaven Hill” into a blackgaze blast-beat fest and “Scarecrow” and into a crushing blackened sludge-doom epic while layering their atmospheric black metal smoothly over the old-school rock grooves of Neil Young’s “Southern Man” Inter Arma show an aptitude for selecting cover songs that fit their style. It sure helps that they’re a versatile act too, bending their mammothian heaviness to suit the core appeal of covers of Cro-Mags’ “Hard Times”, Nine Inch Nails’ “March of the Pigs”, and Venom’s “In League with Satan” while shedding all that sludge to expose their southern rock roots on (slightly) more stripped back tunes like “Runnin’ Down a Dream” and Prince’s “Purple Rain” (a closer so fittingly beautiful it seems almost unfair), which find them embellishing soulfully and clearly enjoying themselves in the studio. A lineup of tracks like this would make be nervous for whatever band was trying to tackle them, but Inter Arma prove that can shapeshift back to their southern roots just as well as they can bulldoze as needed to do their own justice to these several tracks, making for one of the best cover albums I’ve heard for a while.

8/10

This Will Destroy You - Vespertine

Serving as a soundtrack project for a highly rated California This Will Destroy You seemingly took a long time with this project, having released the “Kitchen” single in 2017 under the same premise. The album is entirely ambient, and not quite as experimental with glitchy electro-ambiance as projects like Tunnel Blanket or Another Language were. Instead, Vespertine highlights the serene/somber atmospheric foundation of the band’s post-metal/rock sound that made the Young Mountain EP and their self-titled LP such transcendent experiences and exemplary advocates for post-rock upon their release. And it’s a great display of just how the band’s discernible ambient style can shine through even such a minimal approach. It is basic ambient music for sure, no additives, but it’s unmistakably This Will Destroy You to those who know them, and it hearkens back to some of their best work, so I see it as a welcome addition to the band’s catalog.

7/10

Static-X - Project Regeneration, Vol. 1

Rebooted in honor of Wayne Static after his untimely passing in 2017 the original line-up and Dope frontman Edsel Dope behind a mask resembling the late singer and the pseudonym Xer0, Static-X return after over a decade of radio silence since 2009′s Cult of Static to mesh the final recordings of Wayne Static for the band with contributions from Xer0 on the first of two volumes of new material under this premise of paying tribute. Despite the lengthy absence and the loss of the band’s central creative force, the album is a mostly smooth transition from Cult of Static with some callbacks to the electro industrial metal of earlier albums like Shadow Zone and Machine. While it captures the essence of Static-X across its 39-minute track list with a handful of hard-hitting industrial nu metal bangers, Project Regeneration - Vol. 1 is a bit of a dry recount of the band’s legacy, and I hope the band saved the better chunk of songs for the second installment.

6/10

An Autumn for Crippled Children - All Fell Silent, Everything Went Quiet

An Autumn for Crippled Children is an anonymous Dutch trio who are helping to keep the blackgaze movement going with their eighth full-length album here. The band released their seventh not long ago in 2018, but this year’s is my introduction to the band, which has been a pleasant one. All Fell Silent, Everything Went Quiet is a moderately sized offering of heartfelt blackgaze as you know it from the likes of Deafheaven and Ghost Bath channeled through more second-wave-like stylings of the Norwegian black metal scene; so it sounds kind of like if Mayhem made more open-hearted music rather than deflected edginess through Satan-worshipping (not to shit on Mayhem or anything). There is more to this album, however, than just diluted or lo-fi Deafheaven worship; through the haze of the band’s fuzzy blackgaze is some pretty dynamic songwriting and impressive. More than just soaking distorted guitars in reverb and juxtaposing blackmetal screams with post-rock ambiance, An Autumn for Crippled Children capture some of that emotional diversity that makes blackgaze at its best (...Sunbather) so divinely captivating. And the spacious beauty the band conjures out of the negative space in the static-y guitars and thin percussion on songs like “Water’s Edge”, “Paths”, and the title track is surprisingly enveloping, but the standout cut on the album I’d say is the very unashamedly Ghost-Bath-y “Silver” for its overt heartfelt delivery with every instrument and its integration of what even sounds like a piano. I doubt this would convert many black metal purists who idolize Burzum and Darkthrone. In fact I bet this album would upset them even more than New Bermuda, but for those without a stick up their ass, looking for some juicy blackgaze with a different set of ingredients than your Harakiri for the Sky or Wolves in the Throne Room, this is some good shit.

8/10

Bury Tomorrow - Cannibal

I gave this one a good several tries because 2018’s Black Flame grew on me significantly after my incredibly underwhelmed first couple of listens, but sadly Cannibal strikes melodic metalcore gold far less often than its predecessor and finds Bury Tomorrow knee deep in the unflattering tropes that the genre is trying to shake off. With a pretty one-note approach to melodicism that results in a largely homogeneously flat emotional tone across the album, it’s definitely a step down from the emboldened and invigorated Black Flame that negates any sense of the band’s ambition that that album might have given off. I can point out “Better Below” and the brief breakdown on “Gods & Machines” as mild highlights in the tracklist, but they only really stand out because the rest of the surrounding tracks are so dry. I’d like to say that things just didn’t click this time or that some experiments just didn’t pan out, but it’s quite clearly just the lack of imagination and ambition that sinks this project deep into the background of forgettable metalcore, and I know this band can do better.

4/10

Kansas - The Absence of Presence

They’re hardly even metal-adjacent but for their sizable contribution to the 70′s prog rock movement that such a huge proportion of metalheads are into, a new Kansas album I suppose counts as on-topic for this blog. The band returned after a decade and a half of absence with a stuttering restart without iconic vocalist Steve Walsh on 2016′s The Prelude Implicit, and it was clear that they needed to do more than yearn for glory days to get the gears back in motion, so with The Absence of Presence the band’s new blood has stepped up to the plate to inject some freshness into the band’s compositional process. The band still sticks to that core violin-spiced prog rock that characterized their iconic 70′s albums, but the structuring and soloing style (especially the keys) are a bit more modernized than the band’s past work, and by modern I mean what Dream Theater sounded like in the 2000′s. Make no mistake, though, it’s an improvement on The Prelude Implicit, and it highlights the band’s talents and natural grandiose tendencies far more than the radio rock singles they’re most widely known for, and the cinematic bridge of the opening title track is sturdy proof of this. It’s a testament to the influence they have had on modern prog through the genre’s biggest bands like Dream Theater, and perhaps a testament to the two-wayedness of that street as well as fun, bombastic tunes like “Throwing Mountains” sound like they would fit easily on something like A Dramatic Turn of Events or as a break from all the melancholy on a Steven Wilson project. The album does wear a little thin on ballads like “Memories Down the Line”, but it makes up for its duller moments with plenty of exuberant prog expressiveness on most of the songs (the closing track being probably the standout example), which should be a good time for most of the band’s fans who fondly remember albums like Masque and Monolith, and any newer prog fans who may not be aware of the band’s influence on today’s prog metal.

7/10

Haken - Virus

Speaking of respectable modern prog though, Haken’s aptly named album this year serves as quite the easy bar to clear for prog metal so far this decade. I regretfully missed out on their 2018 sister album, Vector, but I am partially mending that ill by covering Virus here. Like I said earlier, it’s a solid record that captures the smoothness and tempered heaviness of Soen and the attitude of early Opeth with the angularity of Tool, but even if it ends up being the year’s best prog metal album, I don’t think it will be too long before one of the genre’s juggernauts (or even exciting new faces) kamehamehas this one away. The album starts out pretty solid in its first few tracks, but remains pretty meager and restrained in its explosiveness until midway through the album, relying on rather short bursts of typical prog heaviness like the opening of “Prosthetic”, whose rumbly bassline is a delicious highlight amongst the Townsend-esque choir implementation. The ten-minute “Carousel” ups the band’s expressiveness after the deceptive soothe of the second track with a clash of goth-y ambiance and pounding metallic bombast. The five-part “Messiah Complex” suite finds the band at their most adventurous, straddling the winding mid-song compositional whirl of Dream Theater with the occasional eccentricity and djenty heaviness of producer Nolly’s former band Periphery, the band still sound themselves and confident in every move they make, like true prog masters, ending beautifully on the two-minute “Only Stars”. I think it might end up being the year’s best straight-up prog metal album, and the band have worked hard to earn that honor, but I would honestly be surprised if someone else or Haken themselves don’t outdo it within a year. That’s to take away from what an exciting 52 minutes of prog this is, because with such a moderate runtime for such a tight prog album, it’s definitely deserving of the respect of a top album in its field.

8/10

Skeleton - Skeleton

Even though I tend to end up liking them, I find myself skeptical of projects whose aesthetic feels forcedly retro or whose marketing is focused heavily on nostalgia, and the self-titled debut from the Austin-based trio, Skeleton, complete with its intentionally cheesy and amateurish cover art, definitely checked those boxes. I even got the sense from 20 Buck Spin (being that I’m on their mailing list and follow their accounts and all) that they were more excited than usual to be releasing the trio’s debut. And honestly, after a few listens through of not being all too aroused by the crusty proto-death metal at the core of the band’s sound, the traditional heavy metal focus on infectious guitar riffs helped the album grow on me a good bit. The stylistic versatility of the guitar playing really is the cornerstone of the album, from the Kill ‘Em All-style riffs on “Taste of Blood” and early Sepultura-esque galloping on “At War” to the blackened punk grit of “A Far Away Land” and the even more catchy classic metal riffs on “Turned to Stone” and the melancholic old-school doom atmosphere on “Ring of Fire”. The snarled black metal vocals are gnarly in that old-school sense, throaty and raspy but kind of cheesily thin too to fit with the aesthetic the band are going for, and it’s a pretty similar story with the drums: not flashy at all by today’s standards but just right to supplement the guitar work and complete the vibe. And of course with 11 tracks not even grazing the half hour mark, the songs are pretty trim and compositionally bare bones, falling into quick, crust punk formats foregoing the typical verse-chorus paradigm. Yes, Skeleton has grown on me, and I’m curious to see if they end up expanding this sound like Ghost did from Opus Eponymous to stay creatively fresh or if they plan to draw from the long-abandoned (or less frequented) wells of musical elements they did on this album for the foreseeable future.

7/10

Burzum - Thulêan Mysteries

I know that in a lot of circles (including some I consider myself a part of), saying something even vaguely positive about Burzum invites a wave of disapproval for supporting (or at the very least, excusing) the black metal world’s most notorious villain’s racism, but I can’t say with a straight that Varg Vikernes didn’t play a huge part in shaping Norwegian black metal as we know it or that I don’t like Filosofem or Hvis lyset tar oss. I don’t think that amounts to supporting the guy’s racist bullshit, and luckily Varg has made it pretty easy not to support his racist bullshit because Burzum has been shit for a long long time now; in fact I’d say Filosofem was the last worthwhile Burzum album, with his pathetically bad ambient records during and after his time in prison and the three stale black metal albums that welcomed him back from prison. After such a weak return to music from prison and Burzum’s discontinuation-turned-hiatus, it seemed overdue that Varg finally retire the Burzum project after the unimaginative ambiance of The Ways of Yore. I mean the project has thoroughly emulated the trope of the white guy who views everything he touches as way more genius than anyone else does, which is pretty rich for a guy so willing to dismiss the current black metal scene as derivative, and he’s seemed more invested in whatever it is he’s been doing on YouTube or his blog. Nevertheless, Varg remains an infamous figure in metal probably to a lot of dudes who think there’s some esoteric genius to decode in his lore, to an extent I find kinda disturbing. The weird reverence a lot of the metal community has for the neo-nazi murderer’s cult of personality (the vast majority of whose discography is masturbatory throwaway doodling) is astounding. So this guy’s back, with an hour and a half of, by his own account, ambient scraps of dungeon synth music that he built up over an extended period of time and basically figured he’d compile into an album (because, like I said, everything he touches must be gold in his eyes), and goddamn it sure sounds like exactly what he pitches it as. The first track, “The Sacred Well”, is actually pretty soothing and decent helping of ethereal ambient music, but it doesn’t take long for things to go downhill. The annoyingly repetitive acoustic motif of “ForeBears” and the absolutely amateurish improvised piano plinking of “A Thulêan Perspective” quickly shed light on just how lazily patched together this thing is, while the subsequent “Gathering of Herbs” literally cuts off awkwardly like the full track didn’t upload fully. A few tracks like “Jötunnheimr” and “The Road to Hel” offer some fleeting promise in their eeriness, but they disappear as quickly as most of the tracks here do, in a flash of confusion as clearly incomplete ideas piled into an album for no reason that even Varg can justify. The last third of the album contains some of the longer tracks, but the swapping of fragments of half-assed keyboard doodles for half-assed demos spread thinner than tissue paper is a trade-off akin to the upcoming general election and it’s too little and way too late. I have to highlight the laughably farty synthesizer horns on “Ruins of Dwarfmount”; I mean thank god it’s quick because it’s absolutely awful, but the chuckle I get out of how bad it is is probably the best experience I have from this whole album. Just about everything on here is some combination of irritatingly repetitive, blatantly incomplete, or grossly unprofessional, and the thing that gets me is that it’s not like ambient music or dungeon synth is any sort of rocket science. I’m not at all the kind of music genius Varg’s weird devotees see him to be, but given the same equipment, even I could undoubtedly make a better ambient album than this. Although I’m not nearly as well-versed in ambient music as I am in metal, I have heard enough of a chunk of it to say I know the good shit and the bad shit, but honestly, this album is a new low for me. I didn’t know an ambient album could suck this much. It’s like an extended Daudi Baldrs with a slightly better keyboard, but with no excuse this time for the cheapness of the sound and certainly not the length. Yeah, piece of shit.

2/10

Boris - NO

Tokyo’s prolific sonic shapeshifters have all but given up on giving up, and I suppose the title of this year’s record summarizes their brief questioning of if they stop making music. The band’s first intended farewell album, Dear, which found them (not really) bowing out to the sorrowful drone doom of their most iconic record (Pink), was followed them by last year’s LφVE & EVφL, which saw them revisiting various shades of their career as comfortably as ever. NO finds the power trio on another stylistic tour of sorts, this time through some of their heaviest and most grimy territory, starting from brooding sludge doom to spending most of the album on Slayer-esque thrash and hardcore punk ripe with gritty attitude. The production is thick and nasty as is usually best for Boris, but the writing on this record is just kind of absent-minded for such a stylistically varied project. While the more drony opener, “Genesis”, rides its runtime well on the raw heaviness that the band put the pure simplicity of their slow groove through, the farther the band step away from their wheelhouse, the more apparent sparseness becomes of the more underwritten songs like the meatheadedly punky “Kikinoue” and “Fundamental Error”. We get some crushing riffs like that on “Anti-Gone”, but also some clumsy wailing about like on the song “Lust” that calls into question the effort Boris put in at the drawing board. The sheer power is there, but it’s being used generally inefficiently on a sizeable portion of NO. Still, it’s pretty cool to hear Boris at this pace, and the pure energy they pour into this project is enough to get the job done.

7/10

Tuscoma - Discourse

Tuscoma’s follow-up to the wildly eccentric Arkhitecturenominus is gets off to a slow start with its rather generic churn of blowtorch-blackened post-metal through its first two tracks and is short on risks for the reputably ambitious duo, but Discourse does eventually kick in to dig deep to tap as much of the frightful potential of the band’s sound and showcases a decent example of what the New Zealanders are known for and of lies out in left-field of post-metal.

6/10

Executioner’s Mask - Despair Anthems

Making their debut as a collective for Profound Lore, the quintet of seasoned post-punk creatives embark on an eccentric voyage through darkwave on a ship of modern gothic rock, and the results are as fascinating as they sound on paper, recalling the cerebral ritualism of Children of God-era Swans as much as the energetically veiled despair of Type O Negative and AFI while dipping the rock elements into the industrial side of darkwave every now and then. And again, the product is an effortless immersiveness into the record’s moody journey, not through atmosphere-building, but through the infectiousness of the goth dance numbers take you on. It’s certainly more of a metal-adjacent album than a bonafide metal album, but the way the band captures the despair they set out to is as effective through more subtly seething means as DSBM’s best, and the band’s adventurousness with their sonic palette alone makes for an interesting listen, or several, as I will certainly be giving this project more than its fair share of my ears.

8/10

Ensiferum - Thalassic

Very similar to Amon Amarth’s longtime solidification of their sound, the Finnish talents seem able to simply exhale exhilaration through their both tried-and-true and continually honed black-reinforced power folk metal. And it’s clear the band are on autopilot at least to some degree on Thalassic here because the writing is pretty homogeneous and formulaic nearly all the way through; that being said, the sheer energy of the band’s performances into a sound experience allows them to wield so effortlessly more than carries them across the seas they sing of.

7/10 

Bedsore - Hypnagogic Hallucinations

Stepping out from the shadows of Italy to present the great big world of metal with their forty-minute debut-album, the four-piece on the 20 Buck Spin label make their grand atmospheric aspirations for their brand of death metal immediately known across seven tracks of hellish wails and haunted ambiance. Taking ominous clean guitar motif-writing and structuring influence from Neurosis to the point of uncannily resembling “Souls at Zero” on the second track, “The Gate, Closure (Sarcoptes Obitus)”, Bedsore still inject plenty of their own distorted flair into the cavernous death-metal-flavored howl they espouse on Hypnagogic Hallucinations. The band do bank rather heavily on the immersiveness of the atmosphere they try to conjure, leaving a blind spot in the album’s dynamic beyond the fluctuations between clean and distorted nightmare. Compositional shortcomings aside, this is a solid debut to set the Italians on a bright prospective future.

7/10

Spirit Possesion - Spirit Possesion

Blackened thrash metal is one of those smaller subgenres within metal that feels more like a niche occupied by a few stalwarts like Aura Noir, Goatwhore, and Deströyer 666, but now Spirit Possession is making the bid to join those ranks and potentially turn more spotlight onto the specifically hybridized style. The band’s self-titled debut brims with the thrash enthusiasm of Bathory and the old-school riffing that shaped the way the early progenitors of black metal composed theirs, and not only is the Portland duo’s riff-game on point, but goddamn does it sound savory and spicy as hell through the more flattering production and against the backdrop of modern black metal a la Watain. The nasty chug on the song “Swallowing Throne” really highlights the benefit of the thicker, tastier production. The exceptionally grand “Amongst Inverted Castles and Holy Laughter” is a fine example of the band straddling old and new with impressive flexibility, while the bulk of the album's indulgence into early black metal and thrash is impossible not to want to indulge with, like a really fun party with a good crowd that makes it so much easier to have a few more drinks than you originally intended to.

8/10

Defeated Sanity - The Sanguinary Impetus

Through just enough delicious riffing,  memorable accentuation, and technicality on par with Dying Fetus packed into structurally creative bite-sized portions, brutal death metal stalwarts Defeated Sanity somehow make a pretty persuasive take-it-or-leave-it case for the genre.

7/10

Paysage d’Hiver - Im Wald

The boldly two-hour debut double-album from Paysage d’Hiver is also a bit of a double-edged sword, basing partly its very ethereal black metal atmosphere on the homemade sound that regularly kneecaps the grander feel the project is going for. And the album does indeed reach some soaring heights of blizzard-stung ambiance, which the biting sound of the tinny, but engaged, percussion and the vexed swooning of the tremolo-picked guitar playing across the album’s several indeed well-organized lengthy tracks. It takes a lot to trudge through the long path covered in thick snow that this album sets out on, and the lo-fi production often doesn’t help the individual elements that make Im Wald enjoyable stand out, and it can be all too easy to get lost in the homogeneous whitewash of the hazy winter wind. It’s a rewarding journey to finally make it all the way through with unbroken attention, but blame for the easiness of that attention being lapsed can at least partially be placed on the shoulders of Paysage d’Hiver for its mastermind’s one-note approach to an otherwise well-arranged and well-composed album.

7/10

Gaerea - Limbo

Despite the members’ faceless appearances behind their fully-covering black cloth masks, Gaerea’s music does not hold back its sorrowful outpour through heavy atmospheric black metal that crashes through and drowns like torrential flood waves as much as it tears at the heartstrings through unabashed languishing. The massive weight of the band’s sound invokes the feeling of being in the presence of an incarnate deity weeping at the ills of mankind and the destruction they have forced this deity to bring about. Abstract descriptors of the album’s experience aside, the band aren’t really doing too much new for the atmospheric black metal they’re making, not breaking any rules or pushing any boundaries, but everything that makes the genre so attractive is turned up to eleven. I was ready to be as critical as ever, but I could immediately see not long into my first listen why Season of Mist were so excited to hype up the Portuguese outfit’s incredibly accomplished sophomore release. The guitar playing is simultaneously powerful and beautiful, much like that of the Ulcerate album from earlier this year (Stare into Death and Be Still) that I also loved, and the drumming is just as ceaselessly thunderous in support. The lamenting screamed vocals are possibly the least exaggerated facet of the album, but certainly not the the point of being unfitting, in fact they fit the chaotically despondent mood quite well, or a detriment to the record’s overall barrage of mourning. As for how all these massive pieces are arranged, they all crash in synchronized waves in a fashion, again, not at all unfamiliar to anyone who’s heard blackgaze, but the raw passion of the band’s performances exemplify why this strategy is so widely adopted for atmospheric black metal. Gaerea have made quite the statement of intent on this one, and I will definitely be enjoying it repeatedly throughout the year and beyond.

9/10

Upon a Burning Body - Built from War

Upon a Burning Body went full Lamb of God last year with their very trim and direct 31-minute fifth LP, Southern Hostility, focusing their efforts on making their southern brand of groovy deathcore as tastily whiskey-soaked as possible, laying on the groove heavily and unrestrained in a way that I thought definitely worked in their favor. Just a year later, the band are back with a 17-minute addendum to their infectiously brash display of muscular bravado, and it’s pretty much as brutishly intense as expected as the band bounce through single-string grooves and ripping drum rhythms to the same conclusions they did last year, only this time it feels so much more fatigued, like they’re trying to artificially replicate this genuinely pissed off attitude that produced results for them despite just not being in that kind of headspace at the moment. The songs are pretty baseline for them and generic as fuck, missing that X factor that made Southern Hostility’s distilled rage so tangible and fun. Built from War has some of the staple features that made its predecessor such a good time, but despite its few high-energy moments across the five tracks, it feels like an unnecessary rehash of the lightning in a whiskey bottle they had last year, just no lightning, so empty whisky bottles that bear the smell to remind you of what was previously in them.

5/10

The Acacia Strain - Slow Decay

I have been pretty harsh on The Acacia Strain in the past; they haven’t come up much on my blog, but the times they have, I feel I’ve been a little overly critical of their use of elements that I’ve perceived as excessive that they’ve used to forge their recognizable sound. The band released a mini album (It Comes in Waves) on Closed Casket Activities just before last year was over and I didn’t even hear it until a few months in to this year, and honestly, I wasn’t all too broken up about it because it was some of the band’s most lethargic, meandering material to date; dragging aimlessly until the last two tracks of the album, a significant step down from 2017′s already middle-of-the-road Gravebloom. So with those albums in recent memory I was kind of not looking forward to Slow Decay all too much, but a few days before its release, I refreshed myself on the band’s 2014 album, Coma Witch, which I remember as a culmination of what The Acacia Strain had been trying to morph their horrific, hardcore-tinged deathcore into since Continent, and it was a great time, that album, and it made me a little more hopeful for the band’s tenth LP (if you count It Comes in Waves). And Slow Decay indeed has The Acacia Strain back on track after the stuttering of the past two releases. The burgeoning metallic hardcore movement over the past few years has certainly vindicated The Acacia’s Strain’s steadfast adherance to their hardcore roots, and with there really being no time like the present for that kind of energy, the stars’ aligning has indeed brought the best out of The Acacia Strain. And on Slow Decay, it’s not like the band have changed up their hardcore-driven approach to djenty deathcore all too much from what they did on Coma Witch, they just sound energgized through a good batch of songs this time, the many situations at hand showing their influence on the rage the ban draws from bleeding through the lyrics ranging from critiquing anti-vaccine sentiments to blasting the snobbishly entitled attitude of boomers. The fiery disdain for the state of the world comes through hard on the blood-pumping chug of “Crippling Poison”, the punchy, pissed-off groove of “Inverted Person”, and the rest of the dissonant horror-tinged riffing all across the album, and it just goes to show that The Acacia Strain have found a groove that works for them and when they have the right fuel for their fire, they can incinerate anything in sight. 

8/10

Imperial Triumphant - Alphaville

After revolutionizing the method of jazzification of metal music on 2018’s Vile Luxury, I was ready for a satisfying continuation of jazzy death metal from Imperial Triumphant, but I was not prepared for the wildness of the band’s ambition with their sound and beyond and the incredible success of their sonic expansion on Alphaville. The band are still jazzy as fuck on their successor to Vile Luxury but they’re not advertising it as blatantly like a product-placed soda can this time around, partially because they can’t with so much else going on in the nightmarish mix of sounds. The combination of dissonant grand piano chords over palm-muted chugging and merciless blast-beats on “City Swine” is perhaps the most overt example of the trio’s love for the traditional sounds of the type of jazz often associated with the big apple, but the palpable jazz influence in the winding guitar lines and dizzying drumming all across Alphaville continues to set Imperial Triumphant apart even within their wing of metal’s avant-garde. Indeed, their sound reaches beyond mere genre hybridization; the band incorporates various avant-garde elements in an experimental, yet clearly well-engineered manner all over the album. From the haunting fuzzy dissonance and disorienting electronics of the title track and the odd inclusion of taiko drumming by Meshuggah’s Tomas Haake to the gloriously frightful choir climaxes on both “Atomic Age” and “Transmission to Mercury”, Alphaville is full of surprises, and a size-able step forward for a band already bounds ahead of the curve on their previous album.

9/10

[norahjakobs]

But forgive me if you can

Maxwell thinks about Micheal, a lot. And how that keeps hurting him.

Here’s some Michael Carter/Maxwell Lord angst for y’all

This is set in Earth-627 so not everything is following exact canon events but I think everything is explained pretty well

Also this is a songfic for the song Sante Fe by Autoheart

They had first met in his office, a man looking for fame and recognition pleading for assistance in gaining those things with a man looking for the perfect pawn. It was a match made by luck, good or bad he still pondered to the day.

‘You were like a present I should not have kept’

It became a personal project afterwards. He was proud of them all, how couldn’t he be? They were to put it frankly, his magnum opus. And what saved him from himself in the end, made him realize the awful truth of what he was doing. And when the consequences came biting back they were the ones that found him.

But he’s always been the proudest of Micheal. He probably was the first one that saw potential in Micheal, and oh how that potential was followed through on. Sure the man was… irritating at times, especially when doing his shtick with Ted.

But when the cards were down, when things got bad he did good work, respectable work.

‘A sticker on your forehead saying ‘breakable’’

But it was clear he was looking for recognition, looking for something he had not ever been given. It was an open book to read that Micheal needed love, anyone that paid attention would have known that. But very few people ever paid that attention.

He had paid that attention. But he didn’t know how to show him that love he needed. There was always that barrier of the power he knew he held over Micheal. And there was always that fact that he never learned how to share real love, the type that actually came from the heart. There was a reason he was twice divorced.

But Ted also had paid that attention and he actually did something with that knowledge. He gave the love he could. He was there for thick and thin. Through health and sickness.

But it had been him in that hotel room. It was him that touched him like that. It was a perfect movie with the wrong cast.

‘And I broke you bad’

It was only one time, that’s all he could willed himself to do. He still looked at Michael like that, but each time he forced himself to look away. It was one time.

He scrubbed his hands of it. It felt wrong. It felt too close. Too intimate. The only thing to do was push it out of his mind.

Micheal probably didn’t even think about it anymore, maybe he hopes Micheal doesn’t. But something in his heart aches at the idea.

He should just stick to his heart of steel. It doesn’t ever fail him.

‘Waking up to nothing on New Year’s day’

It’s failed him. It always fails him and yet he always goes back to it. Hoping the pain will dull out.

He has to wonder if Micheal ever thinks about it.

He has to wonder if Michael ever wishes it went further.

Lying in bed staring at the ceiling thinking of one of his co-workers like this is not what he ever thought he’d be doing but yet that’s what was happening. The old Maxwell Lord would have scoffed at this.

But the old Maxwell Lord was shot by Kil%re and bled out, bled out of his system so fresh, better blood could pump through his heart.

So he could have a heart.

‘Thinking of a holiday to Santa Fe’

He should at least check a few things off his bucket list. He doesn’t have a lot of time, the doctors said a couple months but he could sense their unsureness.

And using his powers... Well while he was forcing them to share the full truth they said it might happen suddenl-

‘To get over us’

What was happening? Who were these people? Why was everything so dark? It was just waves and waves of confusion crashing over him. He was screaming, his throat was going hoarse and he wasn’t even sure if the message was getting across.

It took nearly a year to piece his own mind back together locked in that dark room. Whispers of people outside of steel doors. It not been his favor to regain his sense of self.

But he had. Clinging onto the memory of the team, of his friends. Clinging onto the idea that they were looking for him.

Clinging.

‘The gods of justice spoke’

There was another him, he had his guesses on how. Top one being Kil%re coming back to haunt him. No matter what he’s done in his life he’s never going to get away from that mistake. He probably didn’t deserve to, his choice years ago costed a man his life and resulted in several others nearly paying with their lives.

And he had made that choice of his own free will.

But apparently the hero community were the ones who had to pay the interest on this debt. Ted nearly died and only luck saved him in the end. Wonder Woman was declared responsible for a man’s death. The world nearly got destroyed.

And that other him, a fake, a twin. Was dead. What to make of that. What can a person make of that? But most unfortunately he ran their name through the mud.

Maxwell Lord would be remembered as a traitor, terrorist, the villain.

Nobody would be coming for him.

Ra’s would be getting what he wanted. An agent in the shadows that could change anyone's minds. There wasn’t any way he could say no. The others might be remembering him as a villain but that didn’t mean he’d be willing to be responsible for their loved ones getting harmed.

‘And I got what I deserved’

He had done digging on the other him. A clone, a cyborg. Really just following through on what Kil%re had started with him. But most troubling it seemed that the control Kil%re had over him was minimal, there was some part in Maxwell that would have done the exact same things given the chance.

It disgusted him to know how little he had actually learned over the years. How he apparently still needed to learn the same lesson.

Then suddenly everyone forgot everything. Maxwell Lord was no more. He made sure that Ra’s would never remember what happened, he couldn’t risk it. Then he fled into the night, right back into the shadows he had grown so comfortable in.

A life of hiding was what he deserved, he did have full blame for what happened during the crisis, it’d be ridiculous to pin it all on himself. But had the roles been switched he very well could have done the same.

‘And when you saw me’

He had confirmed what he suspected. Micheal hated him, hated him like the mouse hated the cat, like the bug hated the spider, like the pleasant hated the king.

Natural, common sense, would make no sense not to.

But he didn’t hate him back, why would he? The last time they had seen each other they were friends, teammates, co-workers, a perfect what if.

But Barda had said she overheard some things at Sanctuary, some things that Micheal said, some things Ted had said, and some things Scott had heard then mentioned.

It was proof enough. Even in a game of telephone the general idea is kept. And the idea is that Micheal hates him, hates him for trying to kill his best friend, his anchor, partner (in mischief).

‘Your hand became an angry fist’

He couldn’t lose Micheals number like how he’d requested it even if he wanted to. It was burned in his brain, one of those things that just couldn’t get pushed out.

Just like the anger he had heard in Micheals voice over the phone. It was pure, it still sounded fresh. That wound had not closed over time, it had stayed raw.

It was such a bad idea to call him up, it wasn’t even necessary. The problem wasn’t even pressing. There’s time, days and days to figure out what to do. But in that first wave of panic he wanted to hear Micheal’s voice, hear something reassuring.

But another thought has washed over him. He’s never going to hear something reassuring from Micheal again. Never going to hear that sparkle in his voice when he’s thrilled. That fake confidence he wore for everyone elses stake when things were bad.

‘I agree with everything that’s coming my way’

From his point of view it’s perfectly fair, more than fair. In his eyes Maxwell Lord is the unrepentant monster that could have taken everything away. If it were someone else he was behaving this way to Maxwell would be full heartedly agreeing with that choice and encouraging it.

Even with some of the things he had done to Micheal that anger would be justified. Lying to him, sending him and the others into a trap, erasing his memory after what happened to Coast City.

Oh how he hates thinking about that moment in his life. He could pin it down as the moment his consciousness started going down the path to becoming the Black King, it’s just that path was cut short for him, interrupted by madness and a grudge. He almost had to thank Ra’s for that interruption.

But the reasons Micheal was angry at him were a lie. Probably one of the best the world has ever been told. There are so few blank spots, so few people that know the truth. Hell he had even helped cover it up. He had just said he was mind controlled when the Checkmate stuff happened, not that it was his evil cyborg clone.

‘But forgive me if you can’

One day he should tell Micheal the full truth, give him the full story to make sense of.

Maybe he’d forgive him.

Maybe he’d still hate him.

Maybe he’d be finally able to forgive himself.

Maybe.

[theeverlastingshade]

Favorite Albums of the 2000s

10. In Rainbows- Radiohead

After Radiohead released Hail to the Thief it seemed pretty set in stone that while they may still go on to continue releasing great records, it’s unlikely that they’d ever put out another record that shatters expectations and makes a bid for being among their best work. And then we received In Rainbows, a shocking late-career game changer so assured, dynamic, and brilliant that there are music fans that came of age around its release that still claim it’s the best Radiohead album. It’s not, but it’s exceptional nonetheless; a perfect fusion of the art-rock, electronic rock, and avant-guard impulses that they’d seem to have perfected by the time Kid A dropped, but had never quite navigated so fluidly. It’s a best of both worlds record that’s lean, perfectly paced, and contains some of the strongest songwriting of Thom Yorke’s entire career. It was the first Radiohead record since Kid A to sound like a revelatory statement able to stand on its own, and not simply exist in the shadow of prior records. The pay what you want model that they used to sell the record was a game-changer at the time of its release, but it’s the warm orchestration, frigid beats, and dynamic range that gave this record the staying power that it has. It’s the kind of record that displays an assured effortlessness that belies what exceptional musicians they all are, and reminds you why you fell in love with the band in the first place.

The one-two punch of “15 Step” and “Bodysnatchers” sets the pace for what’s to come; the former a glitchy electronic song that seems to hint at a less claustrophobic approach to Amensiac before the latter, propelled by a motorik rhythm and Yorke’s fractured wail, erupts and shatters that notion. The two of these songs taken together give a fairly apt depiction of the poles that Radiohead where bouncing back and forth from, and the tension arising from that balancing act propels the record forward. Caught between the somber guitar ballad “Nude” and the lumbering, electronic midpoint crescendo “All I Need” is the fidgety, nimble guitar work of “Weird Fishes/Arpeggi” which does a wonderful job of offsetting the dreaminess of the previous track and preparing you for the creeping dread of what immediately follows. “Faust Arp” is a welcome, jangly transition from the heaviness of “All I Need” into the album’s most accessible song, “Reckoner”, and through that song’s warm melody and infectious percussion the downtempo march of “House of Cards” sounds like a perfect transition, with its string drones setting the stage for the record’s best song to arrive. There isn’t a moment wasted throughout the entire record, and it’s a marvel to hear the band cover such vast ground and still end up with something so concise.

Being a Radiohead record it should come as no surprise that In Rainbows tackles themes of existential dread, apocalyptic visions, corruption, and alienation throughout. “Nude” grapples with groupthink, the tendency for societies to not operate in the best interests of its people, and the inherent emptiness that defines the human experience “You paint yourself white/And fill up with noise/But there’ll be something missing”. “Bodysnatchers” explores someone faking their way through life and being unable to live the way they truly are “I have no idea what I’m talking about/I’m trapped in this body and can't get out” while “Faust Arp” finds someone crushed under the weight of monotony, recognizing the issue but seemingly lacking the courage or conviction to change his surroundings “Dead from the neck up, I guess I’m stuck, stuck, stuck/We thought you had it in you/But no, no, no”. “Videotape” ends the record on a perfect thematic note with the narrator making a videotape for the love of his life before he kills himself “No matter what happens now/You shouldn’t be afraid/Because I know today has been/The most perfect day I’ve ever seen”, drawing an unsettling through line from the closer on Kid A. The themes of despair throughout the digital age have become increasingly more realized with each subsequent Radiohead album from OK Computer onward, but they hit a notable new peak on In Rainbows. In Rainbows isn’t their most ambitious, or accomplished album, but it perhaps best distills what their essence best, succinctly showcasing just how peerless they were and remain.

Essentials: “Jigsaw Falling Into Place”, “All I Need”, “Weird Fishes/Arpeggi”

9. The Glow, Pt. 2- The Microphones

Before Phil Elverum recorded two devastating records about the loss of his wife, Genevieve, and the process of having to raise his daughter without her by his side under his current Mount Eerie moniker, he spent several years recording lo-fi psychedelic folk songs as The Microphones. He switched gears in 2003 and continued recording music as a solo act, having swapped the name of The Microphones for Mount Eerie (the name of the final record recorded as The Microphones) feeling that he had taken the former project to its natural conclusion. Before making the switch, Elverum recorded four albums as The Microphones that each rank as among the most accomplished and thoroughly engaging albums that he’s recorded to date. While all are exceptional and worth anyone’s time, The Glow Pt. 2 is the best of the bunch, and still stands as Elverum’s magnum opus. An idiosyncratic LP bursting with personality and color while folding in psychedelic folk, noise, lo-fi, ambient, and indie rock The Glow Pt. 2 is a colossal tour de force through Elverum’s tastes, and it hangs together remarkably well. He would continue to explore various facets of styles explored here on subsequent releases, but no single record of his before or after captures the vivid imagination and breadth of his musicianship quite like The Glow Pt. 2.

Opener “I Want Wind to Blow” sets the stage for what’s to come through gentle acoustic strums, repetition, and a generous use of space while growing increasingly grand in scope until it explodes during its last minute with pummeling percussion and thick slabs of distorted noise. “I Want Wind to Blow” is one of the longest songs here, with most ranging from 1 to 2 minutes, just long enough to begin exploring an idea and then smoothly transitioning to something else before wearing its welcome. There are songs like “(Something)” that drift by quickly with little more than droning strings floating eerily throughout the mix, and others like “Map” that are a treasure trove of eclectic instrumentation that seem to be constantly rising and falling in intensity for several minutes without locking into a steady groove for too long. “Headless Horseman” gets a ton of mileage out of a softly strummed ukulele and Elverum’s tender vocals while the menacing “I Want to be Cold” pits a searing cymbal rhythm against smoldering, distorted guitars with Elverum’s voice barely audible above the noise. The individual songs may run the gamut through a myriad of different genres, but the analog warmth, droning motifs, tape hiss, and punctual silence tie everything together as one vast landscape of thematic and sonic coherence. No matter how far ranging some of the songs here develop with respect to everything else around them, the production renders each song with the same unmistakable warmth and richness.

The Glow Pt. 2 is centered around a breakup that Elverum experienced, and he details his thoughts and feelings throughout the ordeal, consistently blurring the lines between fact and fiction while gradually finding solace in nature. “I Want Wind to Blow” opens the record right after the storm has died down as he begs for a change to sweep away the sense of loss that he’s beginning to endure “My clothes off me, sweep me off my feet/Take me up, don’t bring me back/Oh, where I can see days pass by me/I have no head to hold in grief”. This leads directly into the record’s centerpiece and title track where Elverum comes to terms with the fact that his girlfriend and best friend became romantically involved with one another. Elverum recognizes that life will go on whether or not he wants it to in that moment “I could not get through September without a battle/I faced death, I went in with my arms swinging/But I heard my own breath/And I had to face that I’m still living”, and slowly works his way back towards the resolve to go on. Throughout the rest of the record he tries to erase memories of the relationship (“The Moon”), succumbs to pure apathy (“I Want to be Cold”), comes to terms with how insignificant he is within the scope of the universe (“I Felt My Size”), and eventually comes to terms with what remains of his life as he slowly bleeds out in the forest (“My Warm Blood”). The experience that Elverum draws from throughout The Glow Pt. 2 is universal, but it’s rarely been translated into such a rich, transcendent experience.

Essentials: “I Want Wind to Blow”, “The Glow, Pt. 2″, “Map”

8. Since I Left You- The Avalanches

While the last decade saw the release of many brilliant records, there were very few that were as legitimately inventive as Since I Left You. The debut album by The Avalanches is a plunderphonics record that seamlessly blends disco, r&b, jazz, bossa nova, comedy skits, and pop music into a glorious, kaleidoscopic whole that truly sounds like nothing else. SILY wasn’t the first plunderphonics record, but nothing working entirely within those parameters before or since has achieved something so fresh and singular, creating a colorful, fully-lived in new context for the 900 plus samples that make up its whole. The perfectly natural flow that guides the record is part of its inherent charm, and belies just how intricate and complex the creation of the record actual was. SILY was so painstakingly meticulous to construct that it took The Avalanches 16 years to return with a proper follow-up, and while that follow-up, Wildflower, was a great return to form, it doesn’t quite capture the singular beauty of their inimitable debut.

The eclecticism of SILY is one of the most immediate, and impressive draws. There are recurring samples and motifs that occur multiple times throughout the record, but no two songs sound anything alike. The pacing is sublime, with songs bleeding into one another in a manner that approximates a DJ mix with supreme versatility. Samples are constantly shifting, being pitched in different directions, being sped up, slowed down, or swapped out entirely. There’s never a moment where something isn’t in flux, and the fact that they manage to accomplish this while still constantly giving each song such a defined shape and tone is a marvel. Sampled voices appear periodically, but rather than leading the arrangements, in true plunderphonics fashion they're tucked into the fold alongside everything else, treated as percussion or texture depending on the song. No single moment overstays its welcome, and because of how much texture is being employed at all times it’s easy to constantly discover something new each time that you listen to it. The last song on SILY transitions seamlessly into the first song, which only heightens the potency of its DJ mix structure.

With a record as coherent and consistent as SILY it’s difficult and almost beside the point to zero in on highlights since it’s meant to be consumed all at once as an experience. But there are a few astonishing songs that stand above the already strong pack, and rank as among the strongest plunderphonics songs that I’ve ever heard. “Two Hearts in ¾ Time” unloads a swirling concoction of xylophone, flute, and keys atop breezy scat singing, and the carefree exuberance that radiates from the composition is infectious. “Radio” pits a massive bassline against repetitious chants and distorted bursts of guitars and keys while “Summer Crane” pairs down the sonic density (slightly) as a slurring thermin, strings, and sleigh bells dance in tandem while the recurring string motif flickers throughout. “Frontier Psychiatrist” is as ridiculous and absurd as things get here, and is legitimately one of the funniest moments on any electronic album through its use of vocal samples lifted from the Johnny Wayne and Frank Shuster comedy sketch of the same name “The man with the golden eyeball/And tighten your buttocks, pour juice down your chin/I promised my girlfriend I’d play the violin. And the closer “Extra Kings” unravels in a bouncy psychedelic sprawl with the voice from the first song and title track singing “I’ve tried but I just can’t get you/Every since the day I left you” as noise makers and woodwinds swirl around the vocals in rapturous joy.

The one thing that cannot be overstated is just how much fun it is to listen to this record. Through its many songs and moods, joy, pain, sorrow, regret, and unease are conjured at various moments, but throughout it all there’s a palpable sense that the band are thoroughly enjoying themselves. It remains playful and whimsical even at its most crestfallen, and thrills even at its deepest lulls. A sense of discovery and communal spirit animates this record, and The Avalanches achieve a sense of weightlessness that pervades even the record’s densest moments. It’s the rare record that matches its remarkably accessible, party-friendly nature with an equally groundbreaking execution that completely rewrote the cultural relationship to sample-based music. The Avalanches wisely opted to downplay the inherent brilliance of the music, and they made it as easy as possible to simply get lost in the endless spirals of grooves, texture, and pockets upon pockets of melody. There’s no air of pretension in The Avalanches’ universe, just the pure, unmitigated joy of stumbling upon new sounds in unusual contexts again and again and again.

Essentials: “Extra Kings”, “Frontier Psychiatrist”, “Two Hearts in 3/4 Time”

7. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot- Wilco

Wilco was already a great band before they released Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, but it’s this record that cemented them as one of the most compelling of their era. When their label, Reprise Records, an imprint of AOL Time Warner, heard the record they assumed that it would essentially amount to career suicide and opted to release them from the label with the rights to the album. In order to not significantly delay the release of their record before touring it as well as controlling the quality of the songs that were already being leaked from it Wilco put the entire record on their site and embarked on their most successful tour up to that point. Both Being There and Summerteeth were massive leaps forward for the band, defined equally by Jeff Tweedy’s increasingly accomplished songwriting and the studio wizardry of multi-instrumentalist Jay Bennet, but on YHF these forces hit a peak. The songs on YHF are intensely felt, and earnestly conveyed by a band that was completely in-tune with one another, and were perpetually firing on all cylinders. The tasteful sonic experimentation, warm rock and baroque arrangements, and Tweedy’s wistful, romantic sentiments coalesce into a superbly realized whole. Mature, earnest, empathetic, and adventurous, YHF is a landmark for indie rock, and one of the most beautiful and compulsively listenable albums of the century so far.

The biggest development that took place on YHF was Tweedy’s songwriting fully blossoming into a sincere, singular voice that propelled to the band to unprecedented heights. On opening song “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart” Tweedy’s depiction of someone wandering around Chicago post-breakup “I am an American aquarium drinker/I assassin down the avenue/I’m hiding out in the big city blinking/What was a I thinking when I let go of you?” sets the tone of the album with wistful, poignant urgency. “Jesus, Etc” depicts the desolation and the simple pleasures clung to within urban, contemporary American life “Voices whine/Skycrapers are scraping together/Your voice is smoking/Last cigarettes, are all you can get/Turning your orbit around” while positing love as a balm for the ills of modern existence “Our love is all we have/Our love/Our love is all of God’s money/Everyone is a burning sun”. On the album’s stunning closer “Reservations” Tweedy’s trying to reassure his love that he’s invested in their future “Oh, I’ve got reservations/About so many things/But not about you” while on the album’s centerpiece, “Radio Cure”, Tweedy laments the difficulty of sustaining a long distance relationship despite advancements in technology making it easier to do than ever before “Oh, distance has no way/Of making love understandable”. Tweedy’s writing is concise and direct, cut with an emotional through line that elevates the sentiments beyond what may scan as initially simplistic.

YHF doesn’t provide any overhauls to their approach to the extent that Wilco’s previous two records did. Rather, it’s a case of tightening up what they already did well and improving considerably on all fronts. Jay Bennett continues to showcase how he was the band’s not-so-secret weapon at this phase of their career with a sly touch that embellishes each song here with surprising amount of dimension. Bennett really began to experiment considerably with Wilco’s sound on Summerteeth, but his most compelling contributions are those throughout YHF. Whether its the ambient swirl of chimes that open “Ashes of American Flags”, the spring-loaded percussion on “Pot Kettle Black”, the melancholic string drones that dominate “Poor Places” or the whirring samples that swirl in perfect harmony alongside the infectious concoction of cymbals, xylophone, and acoustic guitars throughout the build of “Radio Cure”, Bennett’s use of texture was subtle, but supremely effective in fleshing each composition into wonderfully distinct shapes. The songs are certainly strong enough to stand on their own in much simpler, stripped down forms, but Bennett’s tinkering perfectly complemented Tweedy’s songwriting, imbuing his romanticism with a welcome surrealist bent.

The suspected allusions to 9/11 in a few of the songs despite the record having been finished months before 9/11 dominated the narrative of the album upon its release, but that supposed prescience overlooks Tweedy’s astute observation of American despair and generally just glosses over the fact that, regardless of possible foresight, YHF is simply a magnificent record. There’s a universality to the sentiments that are beautifully rendered by Tweedy’s aching tone, and the band finally seemed completely comfortable dropping all pretenses of “alt-country” and leaned unabashedly into their intrinsic weirdness without much concern for what the record might initially scan as. What continues to really impress about YHF is that Wilco simultaneously became more experimental and tuneful, with some of the melodies dominating songs like “Radio Cure”, “Jesus, Etc”, “Pot Kettle Black”, and “I’m the Man Who Loves You” ranking as among their strongest to date. There are few albums that I’ve heard that strike such a fine balance between strong melodies and forward-thinking composition, but YHF manages just that, while offering a compelling insight into initial 21st century American malaise.

Essentials: “Radio Cure”, “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart”, “Jesus, Etc”

6. Madvillainy- Madvillain

MF DOOM and Madlib were already renowned figures in underground hip hop with a couple of great records under each of their belts before they linked up to write and record Madvillainy. But in each other they found the perfect collaborator whose sensibilities ran parallel to their own. In the universe that they built together dense internal rhymes float effortlessly over dusty soul loops and thick clouds of pot smoke. There were obvious precedents for what they accomplished on DOOM’s Operation Doomsday and Madlib’s The Unseen, recorded under his Quasimoto alias, but on Madvillainy they helped one another reach a creative breakthrough with them both redefining the form of their respective crafts. Madlib’s beats are relentlessly eclectic, gorgeously textured, and masterfully mixed, while DOOM’s verses are some of the most varied, superbly rapped, and thought-provoking of his entire career. The ease with which their styles complement one another belies the effort that they put into it, and the end result doesn’t sound fussy or labored over, but it did herald a new era of faded west-coast hip hop built on a throne of comic books, jazz records, and a dizzying array of internal rhyme schemes.

The production on Madvillainy was handled entirely by Madlib, with DOOM co-producing the opening track “The Illest Villains”, and it’s the most cohesive collection of beats that Madlib has ever assembled while still packing a considerable amount of variety within its grooves. “Rhinestone Cowboy” is the longest song, clocking in at 4 minutes exactly, but most of the songs are under 2 minutes and concisely introduce their ideas while DOOM unloads brief, but substantial bars over them. The samples span the likes of The Mothers of Invention, Sun Ra, George Clinton, Bill Evans, Diana Ross, Stevie Wonder, James Brown, Street Fighter II, and so much more sometimes within the same songs without once showing the seams. The atmosphere is soulful and jazzy with a hazy tinge that the samples lend the compositions on the whole juxtaposed superbly against the visceral nature of DOOM’s rapping. The music is rendered within a quantized grid so there’s no mistaking it as anything other than hip hop beats, but these beats are arranged more tastefully than the vast majority of instrumental hip-hop that’s come before or since. Whether it's the guitar/sleigh bell stomp of “Shadows of Tomorrow”, or the sluggish bass crawl and metronome sigh of “Meat Grinder”, or the anthemic brass leads that frame “All Caps”, the beats are simply bursting with texture and personality.

Since reemerging as MF DOOM towards the end of the last century Daniel Dumile has completely owned this specific lane of verbose, off-kilter hip-hop defined by his knotty phrasing, complex internal rhyme schemes, and magnetic personality that draws from all ephemeral of pop culture. Madlib brings out the best in DOOM, and his rapping is by turns loose and tight, dense and reference heavy while delivered with a level of precision that transcends pop culture acumen. “Living off borrowed time, the lock ticks faster/That’d be the hour they knock on the slick blaster” are the first lines on “Accordion” that open the record, and things only get more surreal from there. The rhymes are eloquent and guttural, often open to various interpretation, and packed with colorful imagery while never being anything less than thought-provoking. “Meat Grinder” depicts DOOM’s pimping of a stripper named China “Heat niner, pimping, stripping, soft sweet minor/China was a neat signer, trouble with the script” while “America’s Most Blunted” is an absurdist ode to marijuana “Quas, when he really hit star mode/Never will he boost loose Philies with the bar-code”. “Curls” reveals a glimpse of DOOM’s lost innocence after smoking his first spiff at 7 “Spliff made him swore he saw heaven, he was seven/Yup, you know it, growin’ up too fast/Showin’ up to class with Moet in a flask” while on “All Caps” he’s reveling in pure braggadocio “So nasty that it’s probably somewhat of a travesty/Having me, then he told the people “You can call me your majesty””. The complexity and eclecticism that DOOM imbued his lyrics with hit a new peak for hip hop as a whole on Madvillainy.

Although the partnership between MF DOOM and Madlib only resulted in Madvillainy, the influence of that lone masterwork continues to ripple throughout the underground and mainstream alike. Odd Future, Brainfeeder, Black Hippy, Pro Era, Bruiser Brigade and countless other crews, collectives, and labels were informed tremendously by the nerve this record struck. DOOM clones are still rampant, and Madlib’s anything goes crate-digging approach to sample-based composition can be heard in everyone from Kaytranada to JPEGMAFIA. There were very few records that came out this decade that drastically altered the direction for what hip hop can sound like quite like Madvillainy. DOOM and Madlib were such a perfect match for one another that neither of them have made music with anyone else before or since (or solo) that comes close to the brilliance of Madvillainy. Whether or not the two of them ever reunite to create that tantalizing follow-up seems like a coin toss, but truth be told we’re better served with things as they are. The original is still paying enormous dividends 15 years later and it’s only going to continue getting better from here.

Essentials: “All Caps”, “Figaro”, “Curls”

5. Microcastle/Weird Era Cont.- Deerhunter

No other double LP from the last decade delivered so much, or asked so little from the listener, as Deerhunter’s extraordinary Microcastle/Weird Era Cont. Originally just intended as a single LP, Bradford Cox generously recorded all of Weird Era Cont. to reward fans that purchased Microcastle after it leaked months in advance (unfortunately, Weird Era Cont. would be leaked as well). Microcastle finds the band honing their populist impulses with impeccable clarity without completely abandoning their murkier roots, while Weird Era Cont. completely dives into their stranger, more abstract realm of their sound. Each record is exceptional in its own right, but when taken together they form the perfect realization of all the sides of the band, spanning the likes of garage rock, post-punk, shoegaze, ambient, musique concrete, krautrock, and psychedelic pop while managing to make such amalgamations sound like second nature. There’s more range covered on each of these LPs than most bands manage within entire careers. While Cryptograms first showcased the seemingly limitless potential that Deerhunter was capable of, Microcastle/Weird Era Cont. proved that they were one of the defining bands of the century so far.

Microcastle is sequenced in a way that is comparable to Cryptograms, but there are just a few more bright pop moments right out of the gates before the record descends into its shorter ambient middle section. After the obligatory ambient opening interlude, this time in the form of “Cover Me (Slowly)”, Lockett Pundt begins the record proper by taking lead vocals on Cox’s “Agorophobia”. Having Lockett sing the first actual song on the record is a testament to how far their lead guitarist had come as another vocalist (and songwriter, with “Neither of Us, Uncertainly”) in such a short order. With “Agorophobia” Lockett leads one of the gentlest sounding songs that the band had released up to that point, with a disarmingly gorgeous vocal melody superbly juxtaposed against lyrics that describe the sensation of being buried alive for sexual pleasure. The sharp immediacy of “Never Stops” follows suit, and here Cox completely comes into his own a pop frontman, no longer content to wallow innocuously behind the squall of guitar distortion, and he propels the arrangements with a legitimately anthemic melody. Both “Little Kids” and the title track provide two of Cox’s most tender vocal performances up to that point while still making room for Lockett’s spellbinding guitar tones.

“Calvary Scars”, “Activa”, and “Green Jacket” aren’t quite as engaging as any of the ambient songs throughout the stretch from “White Ink” to “Red Ink” on Cryptograms, but they nonetheless draw an effective bridge to the record’s high-point, the colossal “Nothing Ever Happened”. “Nothing Ever Happened” has the band firing on all cylinders and delivering a show stopping performance that blends krautrock, garage rock, and shoegaze for a song far more satisfying and life-affirming than the sum of its parts. After that rollercoaster we’re treated to the bouncy jangle pop of “Saved by Old Times”, and the soothing dream pop of comedowns “Neither of Us, Certainly” and “Twilight at Carbon Lake” before the later erupts into a cacophony of jerky guitar spasms. It’s a welcome ending for a record with such a clear emphasis on melody, and it reinforces the notion that you shouldn’t get too comfortable with any fixed idea of what Deerhunter sound like at any given point in time.

Weird Era Cont. is where things really get interesting. It’s the only album of theirs that includes songs that were recorded and performed by individual members of the band intended for their various solo projects (these being Bradford Cox’s Atlas Sound and Lockett Pundt’s Lotus Plaza). The album as a whole hews closest to the first Atlas Sound LP, Let the Blind Lead Those Who Can See but Cannot Feel, in that both are absolute treasure troves of sonic riches that prioritize pure sound and overall immersion above proper song structure. The fact that Weird Era Cont. is so disparate and yet hangs together so cohesively is as much a testament to Deerhunter’s discipline as it is their sheer intuition with respect to flow and pacing even amongst such inherent disorder. And so here you get the raucous garage rock anthem “Operation” colliding into the noise-pop gem “Dot Gain”, the ambient interlude “Cicada” seeping right into the twisted ethereal waltz “Vox Humana”, and the whirring instrumental collage pop “Moon Witch Cartridge” segueing nicely into the droning noise of “Weird Era”. While Weird Era Cont. is only strengthened when viewed through the lens of it existing as the flip side to Microcastle’s warped pop, it still provides a welcome microcosm of Deerhunter’s incredible range all on its own, and it’s the most adventurous record that Deerhunter ever recorded.

Due to the fact that Microcastle and Weird Era Cont. are both Deerhunter records, the lyrics deal almost entirely with dreams and death. Most of the characters that occupy these songs are trying to escape from their nightmares or literally sacrificing themselves for the sweet ecstasy of oblivion. A version of “Cavalry Scars” appears on both records, the former a brief guitar lullaby and the latter a blistering shoegaze freakout, but the constant thread that ties them together aside from the title is that the narrator is crucifying himself in front of all of his friends. “Saved By Old Times” is more literal, and it depicts the alienation that Cox experienced growing up in his parents house by himself after his parents divorced while trying to cope with his Marfan Syndrome “You are trapped in your basement for a war of 16 years/In a combat for victory/In a combat with ourselves/In combat with these cultural vampires”. Cox’s fixation on death seems to serve as the ultimate salve for his lifelong struggle with simply having to exist, and regardless of whether or not music functions as a temporary solution for his anguish it’s clearly a natural medium for him to exercise his demons. Deerhunter have spent the rest of their career honing in on that release, but Microcastle/Weird Era Cont. is where those fixations first crystallized into something truly singular.

Essentials: “Nothing Ever Happened”, “Never Stops”, “Microcastle”, “Vox Celeste”, “Dot Gain”, “Slow Swords”

4. Strawberry Jam- Animal Collective

Strawberry Jam was the first Animal Collective record to have been released after band member Panda Bear’s exceptional solo breakthrough, Person Pitch, so for the first time in their career there was an obvious precedent in place for where the tight knight crew of David Portner (Avey Tare), Panda Bear (Noah Lennox), Geologist (Brian Weitz), and Josh Dibb (Deakin) might take their sound, but like all their prior records it sounds nothing like anything that came before it. Having completely moved on from the full-band analog approach, SJ is the sound of a band moving fearlessly outside of their comfort zone and harnessing the immense potential of samplers. On the whole, the compositions are more richly textured, melodic, and better paced than the bulk of their past work. The band continued to incorporate field recordings into their music, but given the prevalence of the samples happening at all times it can be difficult to parse who’s doing anything other than percussion and vocals at any given point in time. Avey’s presence dominates SJ to a large degree, with his idiosyncratic approach to melody defining the bulk of the standouts here. But despite Tare’s voice being the focal point on most of the songs on SJ, Panda Bear still holds his own as a songwriter throughout, and his softer melodic tone helped superbly counterbalance Tare’s outbursts. On SJ you can hear the band bending the fabric of pop music to their will in real time, and it remains both a masterclass in warped pop, and a joy to revisit time and time again.

During the tour in support of their incredible 2005 psych-rock LP, Feels, Lennox was mesmerized by the look of a tray of inflight jam, and decided that the production on their next record should sound the way that the jam looked. On SJ the band capture that superbly as they deliver some of their strongest, and sweetest melodies coupled with Avey’s most abrasive, and expressive singing to date. This tug of war between the band’s heightened melodic instincts driving candy-coated, psychedelic arrangements against Tare’s octave leaping shrieks provides an entrancing juxtaposition that loses none of its potency from the frantic opening song “Peacebone”, to the longing closer “Derek”. Songs like “Chores” and the aforementioned “Derek”, both of which are Panda songs, execute sublime, unpredictable transitions midway through that demonstrate both his knack for sample-based composition and the West-African influence on his songwriting that really congealed in earnest on PP. Meanwhile Tare songs, like “Unsolved Mysteries” and “Cuckoo Cuckoo”, still favored conventional chord changes and verse-chorus-verse structures, but they managed to pack the hallmarks of the band’s sound into much more succinct packages that don’t nullify any of the impact. Neo-psychedelic synth textures, tribal drumming, choirboy vocal harmonies, feral shrieks, and a pervasive use of space still reigned supreme throughout SJ, but the band were crafting legitimate pop songs while still in service of their wonderful idiosyncrasies. Nothing on SJ could be mistaken for the work of any other band, but it’s remarkable to hear just how significantly they tightened up their arrangements while still still remaining an island unto themselves.

As soon as opener “Peacebone” kicks into gear with its stomping percussion and dazzling array of arpeggio synth leads setting the foundation for Avey’s full-throttled yelps, it’s clear that this is his record. At the time of its release, “Peacebone” was the most immediate that AC ever sounded, but Tare’s shrieks kept listeners giddily at arm’s length even as they adopt more approachable structures. The midsection breakdown is still thrilling, and a good barometer of whether or not SJ is really your cup of tea or not. “Unsolved Mysteries” follows suit and doubles down on the pervading sense of whimsy from a compositional standpoint, and Tare’s vocals continue to provide a satisfying juxtaposition. The backbone of the album consists of “For Reverend Green” and “Fireworks”, the strongest back to back songs on any of their albums. On “For Reverend Green” Tare provides one of his most thrilling vocal performances to date, gleefully leaping between octaves mid-verse and switching between cathartic wordless croons and feral shrieks on a dime. It’s a stunning display of virtuosity and passion that couldn’t have come from any other musician. “Fireworks” is one of Tare’s most tender vocal performances to date, and it finds him contemplating the cycle of life as well as his place in the world over stuttering percussion, wordless croons, mesmerizing field recordings, and minor key piano. It’s a touching, albeit heavy listen, but the band play with such joy and warmth that it never suffocates under the weight of its ambition, and it’s one of the greatest songs that Tare has ever written.

Despite SJ being an album dominated by Tare’s presence it was still a major showcase for Panda Bear as a songwriter in his own right. “Chores” nails the sort of transitional finesse perfected on PP as it starts from a frantic intro dominated by bass drums and noisemakers before seamlessly shifting into a brief droning mid-section and then ending on a psychedelic, West-African influenced march. The disparate movements sound nothing alike one another, but they’re stitched together in a way that not only flows incredibly well, but sounds completely natural. “#1” is the closest that the band get to one of their signature drone compositions, and although it’s far sparser, and not nearly as developed as most of their prior ones it works on the strength on Panda’s gorgeous vocals alone. The arpeggio synth melody, sleigh bells, and vocal samples provide a refreshing minimal framework on an album otherwise defined by maximalism, and gives Panda’s voice the kind of room necessitated for it to achieve its maximum impact. The finale, “Derek”, also clearly sprang from a PP compositional influence, with an intro full of chirping synths and tranquil organ chords that slowly give way to an explosive, double kick drum wall of sound beneath one of Panda’s most triumphant vocal melodies to date. It’s a massive sound, but his sentiments couldn’t be any more tender “You can count/When you count/Count on me/What do you/See when you/See inside of me”.

On SJ AC grapple with their adulthood, their lives as touring band, and the daily routines they now find themselves entwined in. Panda’s “Chores” is about him getting his chores out of the way so that he can get high in the rain while his closing contribution, “Derek”, finds him pondering the weight of having a living being depend on him for survival. None of Avey’s songs have the the playful energy of “Chores”, and he spends the album delivering a stream of consciousness on the nature of death (“Cucko Cucko), exploring the delusions that we buy into to feel okay about life (“Winter Wonder Land”), and the futility of living in the past (“Peacebone”). In addition to to being compositional standouts, “For Reverend Green” and “Fireworks” also form the emotional backbone of the album. The former explores the jovial existence of childhood against the crippling realities of adulthood “A running child’s bloody with burning knees/A careless child’s money flew in the trees/A camping child’s happy with winter’s freeze/A lucky child don’t know how lucky she is”. It almost plays like a spiritual successor to Tare’s masterful early song “Alvin Row”, and it perfectly exemplifies their ethos as a band. On “Fireworks” Tare contemplates the passage of time, acknowledging how quickly everything moves, and fantasizes about what bliss might look like to him “It’s family beaches that I desire/Sacred night where we watch the fireworks/They frighten the babies and you know/They’ve got two/Flashing eyes and if they’re color blind/They make me feel/That I’m all I see sometimes”. It’s a universal sentiment delivered with their singular charm, and one of their strongest statements to date.

On SJ AC retained their idiosyncratic whims and experimental proclivities, they just learned how to harness these elements into more immediate forms. As with each of their records released throughout the last decade SJ sounds nothing like what preceded it, but it’s too eclectic to be the work of any other band, and despite the shift in sonics it still operates by the dreamy logic that the band imbued it with. Each release following Danse Manatee has found the band creeping closer to full on pop, and although they embraced it unabashedly on SJ it’s still on their own terms entirely. SJ was the latest in a progression of records since Ark that found AC being ahead of the curve of several indie trends, and many of the sample-heavy indie acts throughout the end of the last decade owe their careers to this record. SJ isn’t AC’s most immediate record, nor is it their most challenging, but it is one of the most inspired developments within their progression, and it jump started their sample-based mature phase. MPP remains their most celebrated work, but the crystallization of their sound that took place on that record wouldn’t have been possible without the groundwork laid by SJ. Although SJ was overshadowed by PP the year that they both came out, SJ still stands as the best showcase of the band’s work with samplers, and it remains a landmark of experimental pop music.

Essentials: “For Reverend Green”, “Fireworks”, “Derek”

3. Kid A- Radiohead

Few artists have managed to make such a drastic leap in sound on any of their records the way that Radiohead did with Kid A. Throughout the 90s they developed organically from a run of the mill Brit pop band into one of the most idiosyncratic and forward thinking bands of all time. With their landmark 1998 record Ok Computer they created a blueprint for a form electronic rock equally informed by classical music and the various strains of experimental electronic music that emerged in the 90s courtesy of the likes of Aphex Twin, Boards of Canada, and Autechre. By the time that they were gearing up to record the follow-up to what was then unanimously recognized as their masterpiece they disavowed the form of rock music entirely. On Kid A the guitars are stripped away in favor of icy keyboards and the austere glare of syntheizers, with the stark precision of drum machines deployed to provide the heartbeat for their desolate soundscapes. The risk paid off immensely, resulting in a work that sounds like nothing that’s come before or since. It’s the sound of a band grappling with existentialism, early information overload, and the sweeping saturation of advanced technology and responding with doomsday prophecies that sound more prescient with each passing year. No other record released this century has better set the tone for everything to come quite the way that Kid A has.

As soon as Kid A’s opening song “Everything In It’s Right Place” begins it’s undeniable that a great deal has changed with Radiohead this time around. Despite the chilly exterior that Ok Computer exudes, there are still moments of melodic warmth such as on its opening cut “Airbag”. “Everything In It’s Right Place” presents an uneasy atmosphere at the offset, and things gradually become more foreboding from there. Thom Yorke’s heavily manipulated wail sounds like it’s glitching as it soars over the horizon of digital keys and kick drums. The mix slowly becomes an overwhelming wall of vocals and keys that form a repetitive bludgeoning motif, incorporating their heightened love of krautrock. Along with the classical music and IDM touchstones that informed Ok Computer, krautrock, jazz, and ambient were large influences they drew from as well. The title track follows “Everything In It’s Right Place”, and it’s an ambient lullaby that finds the band prioritizing atmosphere and texture over any semblance of conventional composition. On the following song, “The National Anthem” the band spiral into a propulsive epic that fuses jazz and krautrock into something else entirely. The first three songs sound nothing like one another, and in addition to the late album IDM stomp of “Idioteque”, they set the parameters for the record as a whole.

Despite the variety on display throughout Kid A it still achieves a remarkable cohesiveness through tone and atmosphere. Every song is masterfully paced, and exquisitely produced, and most blow open their sonic parameters further then they’ve ever dared before or since. “Optimistic” is one of the few songs here that hints at the sort of driving guitar compositions they prioritized early on, but when coupled with the forlorn melody and the eerie synth loops it almost sounds like an unsettling throwback that achieves a sense of perpetual weightlessness. “Treefingers” dives headfirst into ambient, and is one of the most gorgeous instrumental compositions that Radiohead have ever written. It also provides a superb bridge from the existential acoustic reverie “How to Disappear Completely” into the moody lurch of “Optimistic”. “Idioteque” is the pounding heart of Kid A’s detached overlook, but despite being the closest the album comes to a single it’s still claustrophobic and uninhabitable. After several songs that aim to instill dread and discomfort at every turn, the album’s last proper song “Motion Picture Soundtrack” ends things with a gorgeous harp arpeggio set against an organ wail as Yorke sings softly about a suicide fantasy. All these years later and Kid A continues to hold together as an astonishing collection of experiments from a band at the height of their powers.

Emerging at the dawn of the current century, Kid A didn’t commit to any pretenses of subtlety whatsoever, particularly with respect to its thematic concerns. On “Everything In It’s Right Place” Yorke lays out his perception of the state of a world laced with depression, anxiety, fear, and disconnection “There are two colours in my head/What was that you tried to say” informed by a breakdown that he experienced while touring Ok Computer. “How to Disappear Completely” takes the form of an out-of-body experience with a narrator thoroughly disillusioned with his life and ready to precede to the next plane of existence “In a little while/I’ll be gone/The moment’s already passed/Yeah, it’s gone”. “In Limbo” traffics in pure abstraction as the narrator wanders aimlessly throughout life unable to escape from his fantasies “I’m lost at sea/Don’t bother me/I’ve lost my way” while “Morning Bell” depicts a lingering spirit that supposedly resided in a house that Yorke used to own “The lights are on but nobody’s home/Nobody wants to be a slave”. The aforementioned “Motion Picture Soundtrack” provides a superb ending to the album rendered in bleak, cutting detail “Red wine and sleeping pills/Help me get back to your arms/Cheap sex and sad films/Help me get where I belong”, and it culmines with the narrator easing into suicide. The songs portray a grim culture of isolation and pacification that we’re much closer to living than we were when the album came out.

A year after Kid A Radiohead returned with their fifth LP, Amnesiac, but it mostly plays like a well-sequenced collection of thoughtfully repurposed leftovers from the Kid A sessions. Several great records followed suit, the latest being their sublime 2016 LP A Moon Shaped Pool, while various members of the band have spun off to focus on solo careers and film scores. Radiohead have never released anything less than a good record, but nothing since Kid A has come close to capturing the consistent brilliance of that record. The paranoia, uncertainty, and disillusionment that was pervasive at the turn of the century is rendered remarkably through their stark arrangements, liberal use of space, and distant temperament. The shift in Radiohead’s trajectory following Kid A was so pronounced that a band releasing their Kid A has become shorthand for the sort of dramatic, swinging for the fences left turn that's all too rare in music these days. While it’s almost certain that Radiohead will never release anything of this magnitude again, Kid A has held up incredibly well, and it continues to loom large as a relic of an already bygone era defined by a sense of wonder slowly being crippled beneath the weight of an encroaching dystopia.

Essentials: “Everything In It’s Right Place”, “The National Anthem”, “Optimistic”

2. Feels- Animal Collective

While Sung Tongs was the true breakout record for Animal Collective, Feels was where the band locked in as a full group to showcase that the remarkable melodic warmth peeking out through their intrinsic weirdness was far from a fluke. Avey Tare, Panda Bear, Geologist, and Deakin had all come together once before for Ark two years prior, but the pop craftsmanship, confidence, consistency, and sheer range displayed on Feels are worlds apart from the unsettling, freak-folk noise collages that define Ark. Psychedelia and drone music are still large facets of their sound, but they hadn’t previously been utilized to reinforce such strong song craft. Having moved beyond their freak-folk and noise roots, Feels was a departure towards presenting themselves as more of a conventional rock band, and it’s still the closest they’ve ever come to releasing any semblance of a traditional “rock” LP, but true to form Feels defies any easy classification. Guitars, drums, piano, and vocals dominate the proceedings to be sure, but so do dense field recordings, and otherworldly drones, particularly on the record’s spellbinding second half. While perhaps not their most adventurous, nor their most unpredictable record, Feels is certainly their most consistent, offering a glimpse of a band still changing dramatically from record to record while offering far more than any of their peers.

Since Feels was only the second album of theirs to feature all four members by that point it’s a far more fleshed out sounding record than the bulk of those that preceded it. Both Avey and Deakin play guitar throughout, and Avey typically played lead while Deakin provided a warm melodic underpinning. Feels was the last record to feature Panda Bear behind the kit until Centipede Hz, and his drumming is some of the best that he’s ever recorded, alternating from frantic tribal percussion on “The Purple Bottle” to serene minimalist rolls on “Loch Raven” and everything in-between. Geologist’s superb use of texture hit a new peak here, particularly throughout the dreamier compositions that made up side B. Tare’s singing is anything but conventional, swinging wildly between octaves mid-measure, and flipping from tender croons to blood-curdling shrieks on a dime. Panda’s vocals continued to play a larger role in their music, and throughout Feels his voice acts most frequently as additional texture that lends their music an ethereal glow. In addition to larger contributions from all of the members besides Tare no other record of theirs features as much from outside collaborators. The piano playing courtesy of Doctress (who was married to Tare at the time) and the violin playing courtesy of Eyvind Kang add quite a bit of unexpected dimension that evens out the record’s more warped leanings. Despite everything that’s going on the instruments all have quite a bit of breathing room thanks to the record’s superb mixing and pacing. No single element ever dominates, and the amount of variation on display is a marvel.

Feels tells you everything that you need to know about its sentiments in the title alone. From the opening track “Did You See the Words” all the way through to the closer “Turn Into Something”, the band chronicle the euphoria of falling in love on the first side, and detail the poignancy of enduring heartbreak on the second side. With the exception of the superb, droning breather “Flesh Canoe”, that bridges the adrenaline burst of “Grass” to the grand, propulsive shuffle of “The Purple Bottle” the first side translates the euphoria of falling in love with infectious giddiness. It’s here where Avey’s delivery is at his most delirious and unpredictable, and he provides two of his greatest vocal performances with “Did You See the Words” and “The Purple Bottle”. “Did You See the Words” establishes the scope of the record as Tare recites the sparks that led to the relationship with keen details “Have you seen them?/The words cut open/Your poor intestines can’t deny/When the inky periods drip from your mailbox and/Blood flies dip and glide reach down inside/There’s something living in these lines” as his voice enthusiastically zig-zags around Panda’s minimalist tribal percussion. “The Purple Bottle” articulates the pure bliss of a relationship in its honeymoon phase, and features what’s quite possibly the most expressive vocal performance of Tare’s to date as he fantasizes about a future with his girlfriend “Well I’d like to spread your perfume around the old apartment/Could we live together and agree on the same wares/A trapeze is a bird cage and even if its empty it definitely fits the room/And we would too”. Naturally, things take a turn for the worse.

Side B is what really elevates Feels to a classic, and it’s the strongest stretch of songs that AC have ever recorded. Even though “Bees” is technically the conclusion of side A, tonally, and especially sonically, it fits far better with the rest of side B. Over chiming autoharp drones and sprinkles of piano, Avey depicts the calm before the storm “They came wide/So wild, the bees/They came crying/They said, “I’d take my time/You take your time/Please take your time”” as Panda’s angelic croon glides across the mix like a mirage. It’s a breathtaking moment of mesmerizing tranquility that emerges just before the clouds begin to take shape. We then transition into “Banshee Beat”, the centerpiece of Feels, and arguably one of the best songs that the band ever recorded. On “Banshee Beat” Avey depicts how his relationship fell apart after he learned that his girlfriend cheated on him, and every second of the sublime, nearly 8-and-a-half-minute song is necessary. “Banshee Beat” opens to wispy trails of droning guitar and brief spurts of piano as Avey solemnly sets the tone “Oh there’ll be time, to get by, to get dry, after the swimming pool/Oh there’ll be time, to just cry, I wonder why, it didn’t work out”. The song then slowly builds up steam as melodic guitar chords cut through the drone set against Panda’s nimble, chugging rhythm. Avey looks back on the memories that he and his ex had together, and despite his sorrow, he comes to the conclusion that he’s far better off without her in his life, and the song reaches a cathartic coda that features wordless harmonies between him and Panda as the song spirals into silence.

After “Banshee Beat” we’re led into “Daffy Duck”, the record’s most surreal, structure-less drone song. The guitar textures that Deakin provides here are some of the most immersive in their discography, and Avey’s at his most abstract “And if I had volcano boots/For swimming in volcanoes/Do you know the origins of laughing ducks?/Oh what’s a matter with those words”. It plays like a dream sequence that emerges right at the tail-end of the glowing resolution from “Banshee Beat” right into “Loch Raven”, one of the record’s other high-points. “Loch Raven” is perhaps the closest that AC have come to writing a straight-up lullaby, and it’s equally haunting and life-affirming thanks to the understated melodic sweep and soft, high-pitched textures that wafts through every corner of the mix. Panda’s honeyed tenor is unbearably tender as he repeatedly sings “I will not give up on you” juxtaposed against Avey referencing lines from Little Red Riding Hood that contextualize his cheating partner as the wolf plotting her deception. It’s truly something that couldn’t have been written by any other band, and it’s the last completely ambient song on the second side before the explosive finale, “Turn Into Something”. “Turn Into Something” is a classic sounding AC song, defined by explosive yelps from Avey alongside droning guitar, sprightly piano, and a bouncy floor-tom beat courtesy of Panda. At the 4-minute mark everything breaks apart and the song transitions into a ambient conclusion with Tare and Bear’s vocals floating through the ether as the droning guitars chime around them. It’s just as effective as a conclusion to Feels as it is an entry point into their work as a whole.

Merriweather Post Pavilion is easily the most successful record that AC have ever released, and most critics will tell you that it’s their best work, but it doesn’t come close to Feels across most conceivable metrics. Feels is the sound of the band firing on all cylinders, having developed exponentially as musicians and songwriters within the span of just five years. It didn’t push their sound forward quite as much as Strawberry Jam, nor did it signal quite as dramatic a leap in song craft as ST, but no other record of theirs succeeds in tackling so much ground with such remarkable consistency across the board. Feels was the last record that AC released before Panda Bear’s landmark solo LP Person Pitch irreversibly changed the entire trajectory of indie music, and influenced them to begin using samplers as the focal point of their compositions over guitars. Like all of their great records from Ark onwards, there are traces of everything that they had done prior on Feels, but listening to this record still leaves the impression that they could truly go anywhere. With almost any other band that’s ever existed, that claim is mostly disingenuous, but up until Centipede Hz the possibilities for AC truly seemed limitless, and that unprecedented unpredictability remains a key component of their appeal to this day. No 2 of their 10 records sound alike, and while they’ll almost certainly never again release anything that comes close to touching the pure bliss of Feels, the magic of this record is still an absolute marvel to revisit every time.

Essentials: “Banshee Beat”, “Loch Raven”, “The Purple Bottle”

1. Person Pitch- Panda Bear

By the time that Panda Bear (aka Noah Lennox) released Person Pitch he had moved from Brooklyn, New York to Lisbon, Portugal, gotten married, and his band Animal Collective were rapidly growing into one of the defining bands of the 21st century, but even knowing all the ground that they covered in such a short span could hardly have prepared anyone for anything as singular as PP. The last solo record that Panda released prior to PP was his gorgeous, yet devastatingly poignant 2004 folk record Young Prayer, a tribute to his late father who passed that same year from brain cancer. On PP the analog instrumentation that defined YP and Panda’s past work with AC was opted out entirely in favor of compositional approach informed by plunderphonics that was spurred by his increasing fondness of producers like Madlib, and his formative musical influences like GAS, The Orb, and Daft Punk. The end result is a remarkably rendered patchwork of disparate sounds that span the scope of recorded music history tied together with Panda’s signature tenor, and his sharp ear for sequencing. While PP isn’t technically a plunderphonics record due to the incorporation of Panda’s vocals recorded fresh for these compositions, it’s still more wide-ranging, and superbly realized than any plunderphonics record released before or since. PP went on to completely shift the trajectory of indie music in the years since its release, and very few artists have managed to release an album that matches the scope of this dazzling breakthrough since.

PP is superbly sequenced into seven songs, two of which broach the 12-minute mark, with well-placed comedowns emerging right after the epics. The songs consist of loops cherry-picked from old records that Panda was exposed to during his time working at the Other Music record store in Brooklyn throughout the early aughts. The music shifts and contorts on a whim, segueing through different motifs with acute finesse while drawing through lines between various eras of music that may have been previously unthinkable, but nonetheless seem to sound like natural evolutions in Panda’s hands. Nothing sounds out of placed or forced because of the careful sequencing, and the precise tweaking of the samples that are being deployed. The opening song “Comfy in Nautica” perfectly sets the tone as a choir of vocals descend upon what sounds like an ascending roller coaster, and samples of racing cars. The construction is simple, but striking, and the tone he achieves is one of pure humility established with his homespun mantras of self-preservation “Coolness is having courage/Courage to do what’s right/Try to remember always/ Just to have a good time”. Whether it’s the dreamlike glide of “I’m Not”, or the cozy, glowing conclusion “Ponytail” the samples that Panda utilizes perfectly achieve the aesthetics of what the songs themselves are striving for. Everything is meticulously placed, and a single shift would disrupt the lean symmetry of the whole.

Nothing on PP underwhelms, but the high points are among the most remarkable achievements throughout the history of sample-based composition. “Take Pills” starts with what sounds like a lumbering stroll along a cobblestone road with percussion cribbed from Scott Walker’s “Always Coming Back to You” as Panda’s sighs guide the caravan forward unassumingly, but after several minutes the song transitions smoothly into jaunty surf rock propelled by a sample courtesy of “The Popeye Twist” by The Tornadoes. The shift is immense, but nothing about it scans as gimmicky or unnatural, and the ease with which the song transitions belies the ingenuity on display. “Bros”, almost certainly the most celebrated song of Panda Bear’s solo career, is a masterful 12 and a half minute tour de force that cycles through various eras of pop music’s history with the sharp precision of DJ set. Beginning with another sample from The Tornadoes (this time in the form of “Red Roses and a Sky of Blue”), “Bros” establishes a merry-go-round framework that never manages to sound stale within the course of its 12 and a half minutes. The acoustic guitar thrust sampled off of Cat Steven’s “I’ve Found a Love” alongside Panda’s harmonies that forever recall those of Brian Wilson propel the second act of “Bros” up until its life-affirming third act that gets a great deal of mileage out of a sampled vocal loop from The Equal’s “Rub a dub dub”. PP’s other epic, “Good Girl / Carrots”, spends its first 3 minutes spiraling through a dub freakout that eventually folds neatly into a rousing, spring-loaded midsection featuring some of the finest melodies that Panda has ever sung. As the song transitions into its carnival-esque, music box final act with a sample from Kraftwerk’s “Ananas Symphonie” Panda caps things off with a rejection of the sort of music nerd hive fandom that helped propel him to such heights in the first place as noisemakers soar along the periphery of the mix. The peaks of “Bros” and “Good Girl / Carrots” are astonishing, and those two songs alone cemented Panda Bear’s status at the vanguard of sample-based composition.

The lyrics throughout PP are heartfelt admissions from someone whose life had undergone massive shifts within the few years leading up to it. The release of AC’s landmark LP Sung Tongs in 2004 allowed him and the rest of AC to begin sustaining a career in music, and that very same year his father died, he decided to move from New York to Portugal after falling in love with a woman while on vacation from tour, and he soon after married her. The warmth seeping out of the music on PP reflects the atmosphere that Panda suddenly found himself immersed in much in the same way that AC’s superb 2003 record Ark was informed by the chaos of their lives in Brooklyn. “Take Pills” grapples with the history of Panda’s family’s reliance on anti-depressants “Take one day at a time/Everything else you can leave behind/Only one thing at a time/Anything more really hurts your mind”. “Bros” is a plea to his brother Matt for space to live his own life in the wake of their father’s passing “I’m not trying to forget you/I just like to be alone/Come and give me the space I need/And you may you may you may you may/You may find that we’re alright” while on “Good Girl / Carrots” Panda’s taking taste makers to task for trying to instill a false sense of superiority over those who aren’t as informed on underground music “Get your head out from those mags and websites who try to shape your style/Take a risk yourself and wade into the deep end of the ocean”. On the album’s closer, “Ponytail”, Panda offers up little more than “When my soul starts knowing/I am as I’d want to be/And I know I never will stop caring”, but it’s a perfectly fitting conclusion to the record, and as sincere a sentiment as anything I’ve heard on any album. The overwhelming sincerity of the music is tempered by a beyond-his-years wisdom that’s well-earned and deeply empathetic.

Panda Bear released three solo LPs following PP, and the approach on this record has gone on to inform all of the AC records that have followed in its wake. The influence of this record simply cannot be overstated. As easy as it is to roll your eyes at chillwave and the “vibe” generation, everyone from Tame Impala to Travis Scott owes an enormous debt to Panda Bear. As the bulk of their peers began to stick to their respective lanes Panda and the rest of AC continued to swing wildly between trends and genres throughout the last decade, leaving their stamp on various forms before pivoting wildly to where their muses led them next. Thankfully, Panda has continued to push his sound forward throughout his solo career as well, and even when returning to sample-based composition for his stellar 2015 fifth solo record, Panda Bear Meets the Grim Reaper, it marked a clear shift towards the influence of hip-hop and house, and away from the minimal techno meets psychedelic guitar pop that PP favored in abundance. No musical artist throughout the 21st century has covered as much ground as consistently or as impressively as Panda Bear, and PP still stands as one of the few truly idiosyncratic statements from any artist throughout the last decade. It’s aged tremendously well in the years since its release, and it still presents a disarmingly well-realized euphoria that couldn’t sound more radical in the moody, deconstructed landscape of music that has defined this current decade.

Essentials: “Bros”, “Good Girl / Carrots”, “Take Pills”

[lostsummerdayz]

Weathering [the storm] With You: A Critique On Love

By: Nay Holland

On Friday, I had the opportunity to watch Weathering With You and it left a lasting impression on me. So much so, that I wanted to write a review for this movie. This is not so much a review of the movie, but rather a change of pace for this blog altogether. Consider it a critique.

Like Promare during Otakon, I had the chance to watch this movie back in Anime NYC, but I was unable to watch the debut screening. Part of the reason is due to the comfort of watching a movie either alone or with a select few friends. I’d much prefer the former because I don’t have to deal with friends ruining the mood of certain scenes. It’s more of a personal thing on my end. Watching a debut premiere in a room full of a hundred fans didn’t seem like my cup of tea so I opted out of the Anime NYC release.

As a disclaimer. I did not watch Your Name. Put down the pitchforks everyone, please!

I’ve always been meaning to watch Your Name, but after every chance I’d be distracted by something else. This touch-and-go with Your Name has persisted for years until I ultimately decided that if I do come across it I will indeed watch it. I realize that many are unintentionally comparing Weathering With You to Your Name and I feel like even if I did see the latter, it wouldn’t be fair to the former. 

This is what I like to call something that is so much of a blessing it’s a curse. Makoto Shinkai is an incredibly talented man with a vision that captivates fans and non-fans of anime alike.

Your Name is one of those movies that set the bar for similar movies, especially Shinkai’s own movies following Your Name. It can be difficult to look at an artist’s work after their magnum opus without thinking of their magnum opus. Rather than doing so, I feel it’s healthier to look at an artist’s work as their own individual vision, their own individual story. Your Name had a distinct message, as did Garden of Words, a Shinkai movie I actually did see. Weathering With You is no different.

Past this point there will be spoilers so if you’re sensitive to that sort of thing, please don’t read further until you’ve preferably seen the movie yourself. I highly recommend watching this movie blind as I did.

Our story begins with Hodaka, a 16-year old runaway who tries to start a new beginning in Tokyo after not feeling welcome in his own hometown. It’s never explicitly stated why he ran away from home, only touting family problems with his parents. Throughout the movie I wondered what his relationships with his parents were like. After all, to make such a bold decision to leave the countryside and live in Tokyo of all places is a daunting task for anyone, much less a teenager. 

Genre savvy viewers would notice something as he is introduced to Tokyo. One of the first locations we see our protagonist in is none other than Kabukichou, Tokyo’s Red Light District.

This iconic location is also known for being the home setting of the Yakuza series of video games albeit as Kamurocho. Known for its absurdity, the Tokyo nightlife is just as relentless for Hodaka as it was for Kiryuu and other protagonists who walk the same streets. 

As to be expected, his first few nights are met with living out of internet cafes, looking for part-time jobs without success, and dealing with all types of characters, from the yakuza themselves, to office workers. All of whom refuse to give a minor without any form of identification a job. Eventually he finds himself resting against the entrance of a club where he deals with a rowdy club owner who kicks him out, knocking over a trash can.

As the trash can is knocked over, he finds an envelope and inside the envelope? A loaded handgun. For expositions sake, a news bulletin is shown highlighting the hunt for several missing weapons. Guess those were one of the weapons stashed in the trash?

Hodaka finally manages to have a bone thrown at him in the form of a McDonald’s meal by a caring young girl who is a part time worker there. Being that this was the first act of kindness anyone has shown him since arriving in Tokyo, he dubs the burger as “The best dinner he has ever had in his 16 years of living.”

I don’t have a picture of the Big Mac in question but shout outs to the animators for making a Big Mac. A Big Mac look absolutely delicious.

Several days later, he runs across the same girl who is being escorted by the same club owners who gave Hodaka a hard time before. Seeing this as an opportunity to repay the girl for her kindness, he steps in and tries to intervene yet he’s thoroughly beat down for his efforts.

However as a last ditch effort he brandishes the same pistol that he found a few nights ago and threatens to shoot. Calling his bluff, the club owner instigates further until Hodaka eventually does fire a round, hitting the nearby lamp post. Using this opportunity, he grabs the girl and they make their escape.

It is here that he finds out that the girl’s name is Hina and that she was fired from her previous job. While she was contemplating on willingly being a hostess, she nevertheless thanks Hodaka for sticking up for her. It is also at this moment that she shows her hidden power to him. The power for her to control the weather on a whim. The heavy rain that plagued Tokyo since Hodaka arrived suddenly ended. The clouds part,  the sun escapes, and for that moment, everything is bliss. The rain inevitably continues however.

Eventually he is taken in by a news editor and Hodaka helps out around the small office space, gathering stories and writing for him. While the pay is meager, he thinks of the girl with the special power to control the weather. Hodaka thinks of a way to have Hina make a living and that entails a self-run service.

The service is a job posting website where people will post weather requests and Hina obliges by praying for sunny weather. Various requests included a sunny day for a festival, a park day for kids, and a fireworks concert come pouring in and everything is a success. 

The major problem shows itself in the climax however. Every time she prays for anything weather releated, a part of Hina dissolves as she becomes one with the sky. The more she uses her power, the more she sacrifices herself to make the perfect weather a reality. Even as she doesn’t pray for weather, the weather changes according to Hina’s mood.

When Hodaka’s life is endangered, she is able to summon a thunderbolt at will to cause a distraction. When Hina and her younger brother are forced to leave under suspicion of being underraged and living on their own, the weather changes into an unstoppable torrent. The weather even briefly changes to snow at one point.

Despite all of this, despite the weather changing and the seemingly eternal rain, Hodaka is met with a decision. At this rate, Tokyo is suffering from severe flooding and downpour. Knowing that the heavy rain would go away if she sacrificed herself, Hina asks Hodaka if he would want the rain to go away. Not thinking of the consequences of his choice, he answers “Yes.”

The following night, she disappears, only appearing in a dream that she had became one with the sky and is now currently amongst the clouds. The last physical remnant of Hodaka, a ring that he had given her for her birthday, falls from the heavens. 

The conclusion of this story revolves around Hodaka being chased by the police, as he rushes against time to the shrine where Hina first discovered her powers. By returning to the place of origins, he was able to connect to the skies themselves in order to get Hina back.

Despite Hina’s sacrifice ending the plague of bad weather. Despite the return of Hina spelling eternal rainfall for Tokyo. Despite their lives never returning to normal again. At the end, Hodaka chose to be with Hina. He chose for Hina to live her own life rather than sacrifice herself. He chose love.

In the epilogue, it is shown that most of Tokyo is submerged in water three years later. The metro system is replaced with ferries, most residents live in high rises, and everyday life has grown accustomed to the increase in rainfall. Hodaka returns to Tokyo after finishing high school back at his hometown. After encouragement from friends and former clients alike, he is reunited tearfully with Hina. Happily ever after.

Returning to the climax, this raised a lot of emotions within me. How far is one willing to go for the one they love? As he was approaching the heavens to save Hina and bring her back down to Earth, he was telling her that what they did together, changing the weather, was special. A life without her wouldn’t be the same in the slightest. 

And you know what? Watching that scene with Hina and Hodaka reuniting in the skies above? I cried. Didn’t care if people heard me in the theater. I silently cried.

I can understand why some may think of Hodaka’s choice as selfish. After all, with this decision, Tokyo is on course to be completely submerged underwater. If Hina’s sacrifice was kept, the weather would have surely returned to normal. Millions of people would have welcomed this weather with open arms.

However, even if the weather returned to normal and sunny days returned, Hodaka days would had been cloudy without her. Even if Tokyo rains forever, Hodaka’s days would be sunny with Hina by her side, no matter what.

If given the choice between the life of someone who gave meaning to my own life, someone who had lost life with her mother’s death, someone who had endured enough pain alone for so long. If I had to choose between that one missing piece to the puzzle of a complex, young, abrasive heart. I would choose that person every time if I was in Hodaka’s position. Especially when you’re already in such shallow water that you’ve arrived with nothing but the shirt on your back and no sense of family.

Seeing the one you love suffer is enough to sacrifice as much as you can to ensure that they are happy. Hina’s sacrifice was due to this very doctrine. When she asked Hodaka if he wanted to rain to go away, she wanted to relieve the burden of her existence. She wanted to ease his own suffering, a vagabond without a home who gave everything he had for her. When Hodaka was willing to go to the skies above to relieve her of the burdens of making those around her happy, the feeling was mutual from both parties.

Love is a highly complex matter. It hits us when either of us expect it. Hodaka and Hina’s first meeting was a chance encounter above all else but it blossomed into a series of trials. In many ways they lived up to the title of the movie. They weathered the storm together.