#Xian Bell | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sad-lutin · 1 year

Text

TIANSHAN DYNAMIC IN THE PRE-RAPHAELITE SETTINGS

Like I promsied I got more in depth of a couple of figures and tried to apply them to our boys. Here is an interpetation:

TIANSHAN DYNAMIC AS OPHELIA AND HAMLET

I will start by saying that there are some similarities between Mo and Ophelia, but differences as well: for example Ophelia, like Hamlet, is part of the royal court, and her father, Polonius, is a lord, so although she isn’t royalty like Hamlet, she would be a suitable match for him in Danish society; meanwhile Mo, even if is father was a buisnessman probably involved with the Mafia, is from one of the lowest rank in society, therefore is not a suitable partner for He Tian , and above all he is even a "male partner". He is totally inadeguate for this role, but that's a difference that's not important since Ophelia shares this oddity with all the other pre-raphaelite women in general.

Therefore what makes Ophelia a pre-raphaelite woman? The answer is: her madness. She drowns herself; wich is a self-harm action that recalls Mo selfless personality, because Mo is the first to hurt himself, by isolating himself and getting blamed as the evil one in moments of difficulties, his first reaction to uncertainty is self-distruct for others (ex. getting the blame for the rapist boy for his mother sake, being used and molested by She Li for his father sake or getting away from He Tian to not him intrude his chaotic life). Ophelia goes mad for the death of his father and drowns herself. Like Mo, she have a strong attachment to the father figure and both of them suffer from their lost. Ophelia thus became one of Shakespeare’s most famous female tragic figures, along with Cleopatra, Cordelia, Desdemona, and, of course, Juliet (wich can all be analysed in the future if you want ;) )

Yet another similarity Ophelia shares with Mo is that, at some point, they get "turned away" by their partners: Hamlet says that Ophelia has a problem, wich lies not in herself but in what Danish society will encourage her to do: marry and give birth to ‘sinners’ like him (wich, for Hamlet, all men are). Just like He Tian tried to shoo Mo away with all his "aren't you scared of darkness?" speech.

But the biggest similitude between Ophelia and Mo is that they both get used by men. Ophelia is used by two men, her father and Hamlet, as a pawn for them to enact their deceptions. And Mo is used by He Tian and She Li in the same way. They both try to use him to go against eachother. Unfortunally Mo is easily toyed with and used as a pawn. Even He Chen uses him to lure He Tian in doing what he wants, everyone in 19 days at some point deceived Mo to gain something, that's because (like Ophelia) he is the purest character of them all, he has a candid soul which tries to hide under a scowl, but it can be found with ease because he is not made to fool anyone, he IS the fool (say yes for a tarot cards analysis?). Luckily we can say that He Tian uses him in another way tho: to free himself from his shadows. (See the end my previous post) Because if He Tian is this dark figure, Mo is the candid light that can cleanse him. And like the Yin and Yang, light cannot shine without the dark. (But with this I will stop here or the analysis will be 2 days long)

He Tian seems so different from Hamlet, but lets dig into it: Hamlet is the Prince of Denmark, although he is still a student, he is going to take an important role soon. Just like He Tian, but I don't even have to say it out loud, everyobody knows.

Hamlet is often characterised as ‘a man who cannot make up his mind’. The words that tend to come up when people try to analyse the character or personality of Hamlet are indecisive, delaying, and uncertain, with ‘inaction’ being the key defining feature of what Hamlet actually does during the play. Wich can seem like the total opposite of the active and energetic He Tian. BUT HEAR ME OUT: He Tian is exactly that. He knows he is going to take his brother role, he knows he is going to study abroad, he knows he have to leave Mo behind. But what does he do? NOTHING. He keeps delaying everything. He is indecisive about his future with his brother, trying to run away from it without actively doing nothing, he is uncertain of how Mo will feel once he is gone ("will he miss me" note), he keeps delaying telling Mo everything because he is hoping that this solution will solve itself. And at the last She Li action, when he asked his brother for help, he knew he couldn't delay his destiny any longer. But right now what he is trying to do? NOTHING. He keeps running away from his duties, trying to live in the perfect and utopistic bubble that he built around Mo, and he will do this until it pops. But this pop is going to be fucking demaging. How will Mo take the lost of the only other male figure in his life? Will he succumb to madness like Ophelia?

Because like Hamlet contemplated suicide (to be or not to be monologue) but didn't take action, Ophelia drawned herself, the water (a super feminine energy symbol) took her life, and maybe Mo will walk the same path, but unfortunally, we have to wait to know it...

TIANSHAN DYNAMIC AS "LA BELLE DAMME SANSE MERCI"

La Belle Damme sans Merci is a short poem by Keats whom describes the encounter between an unnamed knight and a mysterious fairy; who, in this analysis, are obviusly He Tian and Mo Guan Shan (duh).

The poem opens with a description of the kight in a barren landscape, "haggard" and "woe-begone", wich can represent the solitude of He Tian life before meeting Mo. He was alone surrounded by hypocrisy, sterility and fakeness (his cold and anaffective family, his fake frienships, all the attention-seeking girls... ecc).

The knight tells the reader how he met a beautiful lady whose "eyes were wild" (this should be the perfect moment to analyze the expressions of Mo eyes but, again, you know what I'm talking about), how he set her on his horse (analogy of how He Tian "set" Mo on his wealth) and how they went together to her "elfin grot", where they began to make love. Falling asleep, the knight had a vision of "pale kings and princes", who warn him that the pity-less lady "has you in her charms". He awoke to find himself on the same "cold hill's side" where he is now "palely loitering".

A straightforward reading suggests that the Dame entraps him and punish him because he raped her, so this is a well deserved punishment. In the same way, He Tian, forcing Mo like he did in the beginning of their relationship, violated him, hence Mo decided to "kill him". Mo actively inquired into their relationship and they formed a profound bond. Mo destroyed his aspectation and accidentally seducted He Tian whom, falling for him, escaped the boring and barren life he lived before. Mo murdered He Tian meaningless self and punished his careless ass by letting him care for something (Mo himself and their other 2 friends). And with a further interpretation we could infer that, with falling for Mo, He Tian has now a weakness that could kill him for real if the wrong people get to know it. Like She Li almost killed him, in the future his love for Mo could be even more dangerous.

In this poem the knight is associated with images of death (again a symbol of how He Tian is the darkness): a lily ( a symbol of death in the Western culture), paleness, "fading", "witering",... hence he may well be dead himself at the time of the story. Meaning that He Tian, was already doomed from the start. His life had never been easy, and his fate was already decided. Mo encounter just gave him a last adventure, a reason to die eralier then expected. Because, just like the knight, who is clearly doomed to remain on the hillside, but the cause of this fate is unknown. We don't know what will actually happen to He Tian or Mo. We are just seeing a glimps of what happens and what is going to happen in the future.

I hope that this is of your liking, I'm sorry if there are grammar error, english is not my native language.

If you have any other opinion, please, feel free to comment them, and the same thing apply if you want me to analyze something more specific, something else or something I quoted up here!

#19 days #he tian #mo guan shan #tianshan #old xian #19 days update #19days #19天 #old先 #19 days analysis #character analysis #ophelia #hamlet #la belle dame sans merci #pre raphaelism

72 notes · View notes

tasteracha · 1 month

Text

the storm.

a/n: happy (early) birthday to my shining star xian @forlix i love you so much i ache with it. i love this universe you've created and i love your characters and your beautiful, beautiful mc that i'm so happy you've let me play with.

warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, teasing, pretty tame for me tbh! many big emotions. wc 2.7k. hurt/comfort sex between two people who love each other.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x afab!reader, she/her!reader, based off of xian's lovely crying lightning (you can read this as a stand alone but why would you? xian's fic is phenomenal. please read it.)

as beautiful and wonderful and kind and patient hyunjin is, it’s hard to forget sometimes that his general presence is still exceptionally infuriating sometimes. the days of your loneliness, before the two of you had finally come together into one woven cord instead of two strings dancing alongside one another, were all but a distant memory. overriding that was the smell of his skin in the morning, the glint in his eye when he catches yours across the cameras and fans, the warm weight of his hand steady on the small of your back, protective and possessive. all you knew now was the cracking of lightning across a stormy sky, raindrops hitting your face in a welcome intrusion to your mundane day to day.

the all expanse of the storm did its job well of making you forget that sometimes the raindrops were irritating, too.

they came in the form of him opening one eye slowly as you tried to swipe shadow across his lid, upsetting your plan and making you double back once you’ve scolded him; the air moving around you as he walks away from you after teasing you one too many times; the sound of his laugh when he’s behind the camera of someone, making eyes at the lens that should have been reserved for you only. each one was a piercing cold drop of water to your face, piercing as they fall and sliding down to form a puddle at your feet.

it didn’t escape your notice that you weren’t upset at him, really; it wasn’t his fault that you were spiteful. even thinking the word makes you shiver in disgust - this isn’t you. you had never been one to let your feelings affect your actions, you selfishly prided yourself in your ability to compartmentalize, but he had this hold on you that made you experience things you never thought were possible.

he, of course, finds the entire show encompassingly amusing. you could see the mirth in his eyes from across the room when he meets yours, recognize your own expression in them like a mirror and it made your scowl deepen in it’s permanence. you almost wish for the time when he didn’t know of your affection for him; the surety in his step when he makes you frown is maddening, overshadowed by the smugness he holds in knowing he could make you smile with greater ease. let it be known that you didn’t lack in confidence - your spine is stood high, head held with authority and feet planted firmly on the floor. envy wasn’t something that ever crawled up your legs like ivy over an ancient grecian statue. jealousy, even, seemed too harsh a sentence for your current charge. to put it simply, you were annoyed.

he knows this, of course. he knows you, inside and out, and on your best days it’s a rare gift that you treasure, hidden away in the deepest corners of the closet that is your heart. on your worst days it’s utterly terrifying, the feeling of being laid out to shrivel in the sun with no chance of respite. and wasn’t it ironic that the one thing that made you feel this way was the one that cured you too?

it’s with an embarrassing amount of pleasure that you remind yourself that you are the one he goes home with, at the end of the day. you’re cleaning up your station and you hear his laugh in the background, not directed at you but ringing like sweet bells nonetheless. every brush that returns home into your kit, every lip product that gets swiped into a bag, every charcoal pencil is the ticking of time that needs to pass before he is yours again. simply yours, not belonging to the cameras or the managers or the staff whose stare linger on him for longer than they should be allowed to.

you knew where your talents were - in your art, your ability to read people, your creativity and your drive for perfection. these uncharted waters were not in your skillset, but as hyunjin stalks across the room to reunite with you after what seemed like hours, you took a moment to be grateful that it seemed to be in his. putting yourself in someone else’s hands, feeling the level of trust that you had for him, sent a tingle up your spine, but if anyone was going to take care of you it was him; the thought soothes you like a balm, not enough to be permanent but enough to get you by for now.

“missed me that much?” he crowds into your space to press a light kiss to your hairline, expertly moving his body so that no one could see. “i’ve only been shooting for an hour.”

“keep talking and you’ll get shot,” you mutter, ignoring the heat that rises up to your cheeks as you turn from him to gather your things, aching to be home and in his arms and away from prying stares. his heat is still pressed up against your back, standing as close as he could while still letting you move freely. as much as you want to drag him into some secluded hallway and refamiliarise yourself with the taste of his skin, you had to pull out your endless supply of restraint. getting caught with your hand down his pants in a building that you frequented often was not an outcome that you wished to experience, at least not today.

his hand is warm on the small of your back as he walks you out a series of doors and stairs to the parking garage, the sound of your shoes bouncing off of the walls a bit jarring.

“you looked nice today,” you tell him, honest, as he slides into the passenger seat of your car. the worn seats smell like his cologne and his old bracelet hangs from the rearview mirror - god, even your car was reminding you of how much of your life he encompassed - not that you were complaining about that.

“that was all you,” pride drips from his voice and you catch his soft gaze when you turn to look behind you so you could back out of your parking spot.

“i may have helped, but it’s still your face,” you counter, hand busy on the gear shift, as eager as your heart was to finally get home.

“if i didn’t know you, i would have thought you were obsessed with me,” he says, the biting tease dripping off his tongue like citrus. “with the way you were staring at me, back there.”

“i’ll make you walk home,” you tighten your grip on the steering wheel despite the threat being empty. he knows which threads to tug on without unraveling you, playing you with his words like it was muscle memory.

“you’d make me walk?” he gasps theatrically, pressing his palm to his chest and fluttering his eyes at you. “what if i get kidnapped, or mugged? how would you live with yourself?”

“you’re an idiot,” you deadpan, cursing the betraying fondness that rises up in you.

“your idiot,” he grins stupidly, settling his hand on your thigh as he watches the streetlights shine across your face as you drive. his touch is scalding, long fingers pressing into your very nerves and leaving them flayed out.

“yeah, remember that,” you retort, and you hope he thinks you mean the idiot part.

the remainder of the short drive home was spent in comfortable silence, hyunjin tapping away on his phone with his free hand as you speeded down the freeway. when you park you let out a sigh and your keys jangle in melancholy along with you when you take them out of the ignition. hyunjin presses his fingers into your thigh in a final squeeze before he exits the car, long legs carrying him over to your door before you could blink to open it for you.

walking up the stairs to your third story apartment never felt more relaxing, the breath they stole from you a necessary tax to pay to enter the comfort of your own walls.

you pull him to the bedroom as soon as you walk through the front door, dropping your things in the foyer with as much care as you could muster.

it takes you a couple of seconds to push him to sit up against the headboard, a couple more for him to complain about it, and less than that for you to climb into his lap and press a searing kiss to his lips.

he opens himself to you, open mouth curved into a smile as you lick into it. you taste the coffee you had made for him this morning, the croissant he had eaten during a break, the gloss that you had carefully dabbed across his plush lips.

you want him, no one else could have him. how could you feel this much possessiveness over someone you already hold as yours?

his hands circle your waist and his thumbs press into your skin, holding you against him even as you pull away from him. his lips are left glistening red and he looks up at you with a kind of reverence that you don’t think you’ll ever get used to.

“slow, angel,” he moves his thumbs in slow circles. “i’m not going anywhere.”

“hyune,” you gasp, going lax against him. you’re far too drained to pretend that your entire body didn’t ache for him. “need you.”

“i know,” he shushes you, trailing his fingers up and down your spine. he loves to tease but he’d never do so at your expense; he must sense that your emotional turmoil is bubbling into the direction of a vortex. “you have me. take what you need, baby.”

the reminder that he was yours, though wholly unneeded, sounds so sweet to your ears. your fingers slide up his chest, twisting into the button at his collar and popping it open with practiced ease. you peel the panels of material off of him to expose his sun-kissed skin, abdominal muscles tensing with how he’s holding back from jerking up into your lap.

“what does my baby want, hmm?” he says, voice catching when your hands slide over his chest and brush over his nipples. he groans when you roll one between your fingers and the sound of it makes your heart soar.

“i want you to shut up and take your pants off,” you back off of him to rid yourself of your own clothes, folding them into a neat little pile at the foot of the bed. he shows no such care for his own, kicking off his pants and boxers throwing them along with his shirt across the room. his hungry eyes stay on you the whole time, shining with excitement as if it was the first time he was witnessing you undress.

you climb back over him as fast as humanly possible, the feeling of his bare skin against yours like an eternal gift. you grind down against him, his rapidly hardening cock sliding between your folds and his head catching against your clit. you’re wet, of course you are; you have been since his hand was on your thigh on the car ride home you moan and duck your head, a little embarrassed by how affected you are by such a simple motion.

he braces himself on his elbow as other hand moves to your hairline, brushing a few strands back behind your ear on it’s path towards cupping the back of your neck. he moves closer, lips so close to yours that you can almost taste them again, but before they meet you’re feeling the earth’s weight shift and your own balance break.

“i want to take care of you,” he explains when you look up at him in a daze, dizzy from how quickly he had flipped you underneath him. “let me?”

“i thought i told you to shut up,” you were breathless but the permission still rang true under your words. you’d let him do whatever he wanted, how could you deny such a sweet request?

he grins something wicked as one of his hands slides down your chest towards your lower belly. his fingers part your folds easily and you feel so exposed even though he wasn’t looking. he decidedly keeps his mouth shut even as whines begin to spill from your lips, your eyes fluttering closed as a familiar burning sensation starts to take over your body.

he alternates between rubbing gentle circles into your clit and teasing his fingers at your entrance, so close to dipping inside but not quite. he ducks his head to mouth at your neck, sucking a constellation of marks into your skin until you’re panting into his hair and shaking apart in your orgasm.

he gives you a moment to recover, waiting patiently until you open your eyes to see his fond smile aimed at you.

“what’s that look for?” the snark is completely absent in your voice post-orgasm, and it almost comes out dreamy.

“i can’t even look at you now?” he breaks his unspoken vow of silence to ask. “i can’t help myself. i have the most gorgeous person walking this earth underneath me, looking at you is the tamest thing i can do to you.”

the blood returns to your cheeks as you take in his words. you don’t respond because you didn’t know how; what could you even say to that? he doesn’t seem to mind as he moves impossibly closer to you, leaning a bit of his weight against you. it’s not too much, just enough that you could feel his chest moving with his breaths. he lines his cock up to your entrance, his hips flush against yours as he slowly pushes in.

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding when he enters you fully, every inch settling your frustration as it flows out of you along with the air in your lungs. this feeling was worth all of it, the early mornings and the onlookers and the sharing of him when all you wanted to do was lock him away for you and you alone.

he loves you. he was so in love with you that it poured out of his very being, in his gentle touch and the slide of his lips against yours and the slide of his cock against your walls. each drag of his hips sends burning pleasure up your spine, licking flames against your vertebrae until you can’t move.

you’re so drunk on him that you lose track of time, all of your senses falling away until hyunjin is the only thing you can feel, see, touch. you lose your words, unintelligible syllables trying to shape his name falling from your lips, pressed against the skin of his neck and floating to his ears in a sweet symphony.

it isn’t long before you’re falling apart underneath him, electricity crackling between you as fucks you through your orgasm. he gathers you in his arms as he tumbles over the edge after you, folding himself over you so he can kiss you, and you don’t realize that you were crying until his cheeks come back glistening with salty water.

“god, i love you,” and to this day it still feels like a heavy declaration, the words never diminishing their weight despite the number of times they’ve fallen off of his tongue. “you are everything to me.”

“hyunjin,” is all you can say, but you know he reads between the curved letters of his name. i love you too, you mean the world to me, what would i be without you.

he cares for you like the cracked piece of porcelain that you are, light fingertips tracing along the tear tracks on your cheeks that move to turn you on your side so you could smush yourself into his chest. your hand rests right above his heart, and if you looked close enough you could see the static sparks of electricity that connect the two of you together.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin imagines #straykidsland #stray kids imagines #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you

483 notes · View notes