It will always be too soon with 12 and Clara. oh my hearts💔😭

Let the rain wash all the pain away and leave us only with love

Centuries have passed since Seong Gi-hun first began hunting demons that slip between worlds, leaving only the endless weight of duty—and the quiet, unshakable grief of existence between human and infernal blood.

But he finds out there is another like him. A second half-breed.

All he has to go on is a name: In-ho

But In-ho is not the salvation Gi-hun imagined. He is something far more dangerous, and something far harder to leave behind.

My first participation in the @au-roulette !

You know me, I love a good AU, and the first prompt I got - Gothic Horror - was just right up my street. It also happened that I had been planning this Devil May Cry inspired AU for sometime - you'll have seen the updates for the artwork I've been doing. I'd already been thinking about lore, and had started writing a fic, and the prompt fit it PERFECTLY.

Oh, and speaking of the artwork - it's done! HAPPY PRIDE TO OUR FANDOM'S FAVOURITE BISEXUAL!

The Forgotten Crypt

His footsteps echoed softly through the crypt as he approached, and when he finally stood before the glass, the reflection that greeted him appeared entirely ordinary.

He saw a weary man who, by human standards, appeared to be in his forties, standing alone beneath the earth, his dark coat damp from the storm above and his lantern casting long shadows across his face. Oddsbreaker—the sword that Jung-bae had crafted especially for him—was strapped to his back, while the familiar dual weight of his pistols—Luck and Ruin—were strapped to his thighs. Exhaustion lingered within eyes that had witnessed far more years than any mortal should have endured. Aside from the edge of blue scale visible between his glove and coat sleeve, there was nothing in the image that stared back at him that hinted at anything supernatural.

Then the reflection flickered. Only barely; the disturbance was so brief that he almost convinced himself he had imagined it. And then a  ripple passed across the glass. Not across the surface itself, but through the image reflected within it, as though the mirror concealed a second world hidden just beneath its skin.

Gi-hun remained perfectly still, watching and waiting, and when the reflection steadied once more, something had changed. The blue scales emerging beyond the edge of the leather glove he wore began to darken. He pulled the glove off and looked down at his own scaled arm; it remained unchanged. The transformation existed only within the mirror.

He watched in horrified fascination as they travelled higher, disappearing beneath the sleeve of his coat before reappearing at the collar. From there they spread across the reflected figure's throat and jaw, darkening the skin in branching patterns that resembled cracks spreading through stone.

I doubt this post will be a big hit because there seem to be approx. five other people on this entire beloved hellsite who've seen the film... and all of them seem to have a different, much more romantically/erotically charged take of the central relationship than I do. Which is completely fine, of course, it's just not how I view the characters personally.

But I want to write about the way I interpreted this story because ever since I saw the movie for the first time, I've been wishing that someone'd post some sleep-deprived analysis about it that'd make my brain sparkle when I read it. So, you know, be the change you want to see in the world.

So, Primavera tells the story of Cecilia, a teenage violinist in a 18th century Venetian orphanage/conservatory, and Antonio Vivaldi, her new music teacher. There's a war going on out there somewhere and Cecilia's arranged fiancé isn't here... but one day, the war will be over, and after Cecilia marries, she won't be allowed to play the violin anymore. Despite this, Antonio (let's call him that, because this isn't a Vivaldi biopic, whatever the real person was or wasn't like is 100% irrelevant to what happens in the movie) makes her the first chair of the orphanage orchestra, and they go on to enchant Venice with their music, for as long as destiny allows them to.

To me, this is a story about soulmates, and how finding yours doesn't necessarily mean you'll become any happier for it, nor does it guarantee you'll be the person your soulmate needs or deserves. And yet, it's still worth it, somehow, perhaps.

I think there is an immense... not even necessarily love, not like that word is usually understood, but connection between Cecilia and Antonio. Each approaches their art in a way that complements the other, and when they play music together, it's just the two of them and the rest of the world fades into the background for a bit. When they play together, it's not playing for external validation, nor is it art for art's sake or because it's fun or satisfying to the person playing the music themself, it's a secret third thing where two souls touch on a level that neither words nor other kinds of actions can reach.

I don't see this relationship as romantic or sexual, but I don't think it's necessarily wholly platonic either – I think it's a deep connection that exists outside or beyond the rigid little boxes we try so hard to shove all our relationships and experiences into. And I guess that nebulousness is at the heart of what makes this story feel so tragic to me. There is no way for these two characters to love each other in a way that they could explain to themselves, or to each other, let alone the rest of the world.

I think they see each other, all the way into each other's soul, apart from one thing: Antonio doesn't understand, or perhaps doesn't allow himself to understand, just how much Cecilia does not want to get married. To be able to cope with both his own choices and the society they live in, and also because he's a product of that society, he chooses to look the other way. Besides, whatever they have is not that, and even if it was that or whatever it now might be, he couldn't make a counteroffer for her hand... so it's useless to think about it too much.

Both characters are trapped inside a system with no room for nonconformity. Cecilia is near the bottom of the ladder, and Antonio is on the rung above her – but above him, there's the director of the orphanage, and above him, there are the nobles that actually pay for their entire operation. Cecilia is right when she says she's powerless to change her own life and that Antonio isn't – but the orphanage director is also right when he says that in their society, it's not a good look for a priest to step in and prevent an orphan's marriage to a nobleman, and that if word gets out, it'll reflect on the entire institution's reputation. But of course, both men also have greedy and selfish motives here: Antonio doesn't drop the issue just because he feels powerless but because the director promises him new instruments if he doesn't meddle, and the director isn't worried about his orphan girls' reputations remaining spotless because protecting them is the right thing to do but because they'll be harder to profit from if they don't appear perfectly chaste.

And then Antonio grows a couple of inches of spine, but it's too little, too late. The love is still there, but the soul connection via music has been taken away from them, and there is no way to salvage the situation. Even if there was a way for Cecilia to remain in the orchestra for now, it wouldn't last. There aren't any older women amongst the musicians, after all.

In any case, the ending is very depressing to me, especially if I look at it on a wholly literal level (and tbh, I'm having a hard time coming up with an interpretation that doesn't also include the literal.) I get that Cecilia needs to free herself from the institution, but where will she go? At that point in history, patriarchy is absolutely everywhere. If you're a woman and/or poor, you don't have rights. Cecilia has left one oppressive structure behind her, but how will she evade getting trapped in another?

But perhaps being free from the musical orphan to arranged marriage pipeline gives her the same kind of joy that playing music did: it won't last forever and it may end in pain and sorrow, but it's still worth experiencing.

This movie breaks my heart.

I'm going to read the book the film is based on next, but I wanted to get these thoughts out of my system first, because the way the original author tells the story is probably altogether different from the way I've experienced it so far, and will likely shape the way I interpret the movie going forward.

I’ve seen many people call Vivaldi a coward, but from a historical perspective, he really was quite powerless in those circumstances. Even if he had tried to intervene more directly, the orphanage’s reputation and the support of the nobility would always matter more than anything he personally wanted.

I was also deeply conflicted about the ending because, realistically, a young woman leaving an institution like that in the 18th century would have very limited chances of survival unless she followed the same path as her mother.

Also, I find it fascinating that Cecilia was inspired by Anna Maria – Vivaldi’s real student, to whom he dedicated 28 violin concertos. From what I’ve read, the director saw Cecilia as an “alter ego” of Anna Maria: someone who chose escape instead of remaining at the orphanage and becoming one of the greatest violinists and teachers of her time.

I doubt this post will be a big hit because there seem to be approx. five other people on this entire beloved hellsite who've seen the film... and all of them seem to have a different, much more romantically/erotically charged take of the central relationship than I do. Which is completely fine, of course, it's just not how I view the characters personally.

But I want to write about the way I interpreted this story because ever since I saw the movie for the first time, I've been wishing that someone'd post some sleep-deprived analysis about it that'd make my brain sparkle when I read it. So, you know, be the change you want to see in the world.

So, Primavera tells the story of Cecilia, a teenage violinist in a 18th century Venetian orphanage/conservatory, and Antonio Vivaldi, her new music teacher. There's a war going on out there somewhere and Cecilia's arranged fiancé isn't here... but one day, the war will be over, and after Cecilia marries, she won't be allowed to play the violin anymore. Despite this, Antonio (let's call him that, because this isn't a Vivaldi biopic, whatever the real person was or wasn't like is 100% irrelevant to what happens in the movie) makes her the first chair of the orphanage orchestra, and they go on to enchant Venice with their music, for as long as destiny allows them to.

To me, this is a story about soulmates, and how finding yours doesn't necessarily mean you'll become any happier for it, nor does it guarantee you'll be the person your soulmate needs or deserves. And yet, it's still worth it, somehow, perhaps.

I think there is an immense... not even necessarily love, not like that word is usually understood, but connection between Cecilia and Antonio. Each approaches their art in a way that complements the other, and when they play music together, it's just the two of them and the rest of the world fades into the background for a bit. When they play together, it's not playing for external validation, nor is it art for art's sake or because it's fun or satisfying to the person playing the music themself, it's a secret third thing where two souls touch on a level that neither words nor other kinds of actions can reach.

I don't see this relationship as romantic or sexual, but I don't think it's necessarily wholly platonic either – I think it's a deep connection that exists outside or beyond the rigid little boxes we try so hard to shove all our relationships and experiences into. And I guess that nebulousness is at the heart of what makes this story feel so tragic to me. There is no way for these two characters to love each other in a way that they could explain to themselves, or to each other, let alone the rest of the world.

I think they see each other, all the way into each other's soul, apart from one thing: Antonio doesn't understand, or perhaps doesn't allow himself to understand, just how much Cecilia does not want to get married. To be able to cope with both his own choices and the society they live in, and also because he's a product of that society, he chooses to look the other way. Besides, whatever they have is not that, and even if it was that or whatever it now might be, he couldn't make a counteroffer for her hand... so it's useless to think about it too much.

Both characters are trapped inside a system with no room for nonconformity. Cecilia is near the bottom of the ladder, and Antonio is on the rung above her – but above him, there's the director of the orphanage, and above him, there are the nobles that actually pay for their entire operation. Cecilia is right when she says she's powerless to change her own life and that Antonio isn't – but the orphanage director is also right when he says that in their society, it's not a good look for a priest to step in and prevent an orphan's marriage to a nobleman, and that if word gets out, it'll reflect on the entire institution's reputation. But of course, both men also have greedy and selfish motives here: Antonio doesn't drop the issue just because he feels powerless but because the director promises him new instruments if he doesn't meddle, and the director isn't worried about his orphan girls' reputations remaining spotless because protecting them is the right thing to do but because they'll be harder to profit from if they don't appear perfectly chaste.

And then Antonio grows a couple of inches of spine, but it's too little, too late. The love is still there, but the soul connection via music has been taken away from them, and there is no way to salvage the situation. Even if there was a way for Cecilia to remain in the orchestra for now, it wouldn't last. There aren't any older women amongst the musicians, after all.

In any case, the ending is very depressing to me, especially if I look at it on a wholly literal level (and tbh, I'm having a hard time coming up with an interpretation that doesn't also include the literal.) I get that Cecilia needs to free herself from the institution, but where will she go? At that point in history, patriarchy is absolutely everywhere. If you're a woman and/or poor, you don't have rights. Cecilia has left one oppressive structure behind her, but how will she evade getting trapped in another?

But perhaps being free from the musical orphan to arranged marriage pipeline gives her the same kind of joy that playing music did: it won't last forever and it may end in pain and sorrow, but it's still worth experiencing.

This movie breaks my heart.

I'm going to read the book the film is based on next, but I wanted to get these thoughts out of my system first, because the way the original author tells the story is probably altogether different from the way I've experienced it so far, and will likely shape the way I interpret the movie going forward.

I’ve seen many people call Vivaldi a coward, but from a historical perspective, he really was quite powerless in those circumstances. Even if he had tried to intervene more directly, the orphanage’s reputation and the support of the nobility would always matter more than anything he personally wanted.

I was also deeply conflicted about the ending because, realistically, a young woman leaving an institution like that in the 18th century would have very limited chances of survival unless she followed the same path as her mother.

Also, I find it fascinating that Cecilia was inspired by Anna Maria – Vivaldi’s real student, to whom he dedicated 28 violin concertos. From what I’ve read, the director saw Cecilia as an “alter ego” of Anna Maria: someone who chose escape instead of remaining at the orphanage and becoming one of the greatest violinists and teachers of her time.

-yes, you're right, music doesn't have a purpose, but it can do it all.

-all of what?

-everything. it can tell us of the sudden arrival of a thunderstorm. of thunder, lightning that makes the swallows fly away. or a shepherd sleeping, lying on the grass. or a barking dog. men and women who dance during a party.

(dirty puppy sol is up there as well)

*uncomfortable silence noises*

Chapter 7: Tryst

Full (nsfw) image in the link. What are you doing, Dr Hwang?

here you go 🫡