Sorry it took me so long to get to this;; life happened and yeah. sadness and wedding dresses
ANYWAY.
you know how much I love colour. I loved the deep rusty blood red of his mother, such bad feelings, the blue of loneliness of repetition of waves of the silent ocean dragging him back under, but into that comes the boy, the voice, the possibility, the gate opening...dark blue dawns lighter, the orange of sunrise ☆彡
and I already talked to you on kkt about it, but the parallels: the cage of his walls, the boxes formed by the lines on paper, his excruciating copy of the picture, so stilted, so walled in by his mother's expectations—I love how for Sehun's tiny suggestions, change a bit of this, add a bit of that, let's go for a walk, they were like the knocking at the gate, the words Jongin isn't supposed to exchange with a stranger but he does anyway.
I love the way everything in this story is a contrast, with Jongin stuck in the middle. Sehun, outside, reality vs the wall, his mother, colouring in the lines. It's not his mother vs Sehun. It's Jongin emerging from the hardened shell of his chrysalis.
I know his mother is only trying to protect him but she's smothering him, and even if the velvet glove is soft and oh so sweet, so easy to want to please, family obligation and guilt and filial piety and whatnot—
dead is still dead.
I love how you wrote the mother. She was so frustrating, so closed, so tangible; I could almost feel my fingers reaching around her throat and throttling her, the mottled bruises on her neck so satisfying, a different kind of flower to offset the pretty walls that are killing her son. Of course I don't approve of really throttling people, though I wouldn't say no to some friendly arsenic. . .
I've said this before and I'll say it again. People don't owe their parents anything. That's not part of the equation. We respect and care for our parents because we love them. And if they're killing us, we respect ourselves and DON'T LET THEM DO IT.
I loved the prose of this story; it's not something I come across very often in fanfiction and it felt almost nostalgic, like reading The Little Lame Prince and his Travelling Cloak or many other children's books I read growing up, or books like Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, your prose felt very precise, metred, like a metronome with varying beats according to Jongin's mental tone, his colours, and I loved it.
I also was so—it's not that the ending was abrupt because it wasn't. It was exactly a perfect spot to end the story and I would have done it that way myself, but I was so absorbed in the prose, the flow of the words, that I saw the tags at the end of the post and was kind of. . .jarred? Like, I wasn't ready for it to be over. Not necessarily plot-wise, because like I said it was an excellent ending, but rather, I was coasting the waves of the ocean, sailing along on the prose and then I ran aground?
Which I think is the best sign of the fact that I loved the prose, and the story of course, so much.
I'm sorry if I forgot something btw ;; but I really really liked this!
no subject
Sorry it took me so long to get to this;; life happened and yeah.
sadness and wedding dressesANYWAY.
you know how much I love colour. I loved the deep rusty blood red of his mother, such bad feelings, the blue of loneliness of repetition of waves of the silent ocean dragging him back under, but into that comes the boy, the voice, the possibility, the gate opening...dark blue dawns lighter, the orange of sunrise ☆彡
and I already talked to you on kkt about it, but the parallels: the cage of his walls, the boxes formed by the lines on paper, his excruciating copy of the picture, so stilted, so walled in by his mother's expectations—I love how for Sehun's tiny suggestions, change a bit of this, add a bit of that, let's go for a walk, they were like the knocking at the gate, the words Jongin isn't supposed to exchange with a stranger but he does anyway.
I love the way everything in this story is a contrast, with Jongin stuck in the middle. Sehun, outside, reality vs the wall, his mother, colouring in the lines. It's not his mother vs Sehun. It's Jongin emerging from the hardened shell of his chrysalis.
I know his mother is only trying to protect him but she's smothering him, and even if the velvet glove is soft and oh so sweet, so easy to want to please, family obligation and guilt and filial piety and whatnot—
dead is still dead.
I love how you wrote the mother. She was so frustrating, so closed, so tangible; I could almost feel my fingers reaching around her throat and throttling her, the mottled bruises on her neck so satisfying, a different kind of flower to offset the pretty walls that are killing her son.
Of course I don't approve of really throttling people, though I wouldn't say no to some friendly arsenic. . .I've said this before and I'll say it again. People don't owe their parents anything. That's not part of the equation. We respect and care for our parents because we love them. And if they're killing us, we respect ourselves and DON'T LET THEM DO IT.
I loved the prose of this story; it's not something I come across very often in fanfiction and it felt almost nostalgic, like reading The Little Lame Prince and his Travelling Cloak or many other children's books I read growing up, or books like Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, your prose felt very precise, metred, like a metronome with varying beats according to Jongin's mental tone, his colours, and I loved it.
I also was so—it's not that the ending was abrupt because it wasn't. It was exactly a perfect spot to end the story and I would have done it that way myself, but I was so absorbed in the prose, the flow of the words, that I saw the tags at the end of the post and was kind of. . .jarred? Like, I wasn't ready for it to be over. Not necessarily plot-wise, because like I said it was an excellent ending, but rather, I was coasting the waves of the ocean, sailing along on the prose and then I ran aground?
Which I think is the best sign of the fact that I loved the prose, and the story of course, so much.
I'm sorry if I forgot something btw ;; but I really really liked this!