#and jack as much as a little shithead he is sometimes…he clearly looks up to quinn too

[aminiatureworld]

Steadfast

Characters: Childe, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,241

Warnings: Swearing, Angst

Premise: He’d always assured you that he wouldn’t change, that he was still the man he was before. And yet how different things were, and how much it hurt to see what had come to pass.

In which the reader sees the changes in Childe

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for this request anon! Really from the bottom of my heart thank you. I really liked the concept of this prompt, I feel like it really gave me an opportunity to focus on how relationships change and grow, rather than always writing about new couples, or people just beginning to fall in love, although there is of course that involved. It’s interesting to see how people grow and change, even if it can be a little sad sometimes. Writing this was kind of depressing, I hope that this wasn’t too sad, considering you requested hurt comfort. I might’ve gotten a bit carried away…

Funny story, I actually hate one of the people Childe shares a name with. Look what you did to Cassandra Ajax the Lesser, look what you did… So to make up for this unfortunate coincidence I pronounce the names differently in my mind. Ajax the Lesser is pronounce “A-jack-s” and Childe’s name is pronounced “Ai-axe”.

I decided not to bullet point this, as I feel like it works better in a more “traditional format”, that being said if bullet points are easier to read I can go back and fix that.

When you’d first fallen in love with Ajax it had been before the change.

Back then everything with him had seemed so exciting, like stepping into the sea for the first time. You were a bit afraid, worried that you might be swept away all at once, but another part of you wanted to run straight ahead, to immerse yourself in this new and exciting experience. Wanted to keep going and never look back.

 You’d known Ajax since before you could remember. The two of you had grown up in the same small village, where one could hardly take five steps without bumping into someone, and being close in age had made you automatic playmates. Ajax was a brash child, not always easy to get along with, but impossible to pull away from. Even when he knocked you to the ground, or sat on you so you couldn’t move, declaring himself the winner of whatever you’d been playing, you’d still run to meet him the next day, the tears you’d shed utterly forgotten. Childhood friends might’ve been a cliché, but it was truly then that Ajax as a person had begun to stick in your mind.

This only continued throughout the course of your adolescence. Attending the same schools you two were nearly inseparable, causing you merciless teasing from the rest of your classmates. Ajax apparently got the same treatment, resulting in him decking a kid who declared you two were going to get married when you grew up. He’d been suspended for a few days, but never seemed to regret it, and when you’d gone over to his house to ask about it he’d grinned as usual, proclaiming he’d gladly do it again.

Growing up was a difficult process, so many snags and pitfalls, new anxieties, and old ones that you’d never truly worried about before. But it was all perfectly fine with Ajax there. He was always ready to pick you up, and flash you a smile to go along with his help. No wonder you found yourself hopelessly infatuated him, years of trust and affection building up to the newfound feeling of love.

 And then Ajax went missing.

You still remembered the terror that shocked your system when his mother visited, tone unnervingly light, asking if you and Ajax weren’t playing some type of game. You’d bolted outside when she’d revealed Ajax had gone missing, running towards the woods that was the only exit to the village where you lived. The adults had quickly caught up to you, but your fears had already grabbed hold, and you found yourself confronted with all you felt for him. You loved Ajax. How did this happen? Love was still so foreign, a word you could throw around but never truly catch. And yet you loved him, you loved him very much. And now he was gone.

They didn’t let you see him initially, saying he was tired, he needed rest, he’d be alright in a few days. Your imagination had run wild, your mind spinning a terrible story. Perhaps he’d been mortally wounded, perhaps he could no longer see, made blind from the snow and the cold. Perhaps he wasn’t really back, and they were simply lying to make you happy. These thoughts chased you, and it was only when you saw him again that your heart settled, even if a part of you whispered that Ajax was altogether changed.

He’d begun to leave the village. Though no one quite knew where he was you certainly knew a lot of brawling was involved. He’d sometimes sneak into your house, in a last ditch effort to keep his parents and the rest of his family from finding out how much he’d truly changed. You’d cried sometimes, seeing him with black eyes and bruising, slashes of red marring his hands, his arms, his face. He didn’t like to see you cry, would start scolding you, as if it was some fault of yours to feel worried, to care for someone who already was growing into a stranger. He always realized his fault though, and after a little while he’d pat the spot next to him. You’d sit down, head sometimes on his shoulder, listening as he spun his tales of greatness into the night, as if he were a knight fighting a great dragon and its army, rather than a troubled new adult with nowhere to turn to in terms of understanding.

 When he’d ask you to be his partner you thought you’d never feel unhappy again. You felt like you were on air, kept grounded only by his arms around you, his heart beating steadily against your ear as you nestled against his chest. You could tell he was happy too, and though it amazed you slightly that he should be as in love with you as you were with him, you could only thank the Tsaritsa and every other archon under the stars, thank them for being so generous as to give you all you ever wanted.

It seemed such a funny thought in retrospect, when it was the Tsaritsa herself who was now tearing him away from you.

 “Ajax, how could you?!” Your voice felt odd to your ears, somehow too thin, distant, as if someone else was saying it. “You knew, you knew that you’d have to join the Fatui. So why, why in the name of the Seven did you start that fight!”

“They were asking for it!” Ajax’s voice was just as raw, frustration mixed with something unknown. Entitlement perhaps, fear otherwise. “You should’ve heard the things they said about me, about my family. How they’d raised a good for nothing thief, a shithead who knew nothing more than how to swing a sword, and who would one day meet someone bigger than him, and die in the street, given to the rats, utterly forgotten. I had to prove them wrong! It was a matter of honor!”

“It was a matter of ego!” You cried, feeling the ground spin slightly underneath you. “How could you let them goad you like that Ajax, goad you when you knew exactly what was going to happen.” Sitting down you put your head in your hands. The world was shattering around you, and there was no one to blame for it except the one you loved the most.

“My darling, please, I don’t want to fight.” Ajax knelt down in front of you, taking your hands in his as you raised your head to face him.

“You always want to fight…” you replied, voice hoarse, pitched barely above a whisper. “And now you’re leaving, leaving to be part of an organization of cowardliness and deceit. What happened to the adventures you were going to have? What happened to the dragons you were going to slay?”

“I’ll get them yet.” There was amusement in Ajax’s voice, but it was clearly forced, and soon forgotten about. “I promise it’ll be alright, my darling I would never do anything to knowingly hurt you.”

And yet you have, you thought. You’ve run a dagger through my heart, and now your talking to me as if I’m not being destroyed by it. It hurts, it hurts so damn much.

“You’re going away.” You finally replied. “You’re going away to a place that will only destroy you more. And now things will never be the same again. Haven’t you wondered about what will happen to you there? If you’ll ever be allowed to return home? Haven’t you wondered whether or not you’ll ever see your family again? Things will never be the same again Ajax, never. You’ve crossed the chasm, and now you cannot return.”

“Don’t talk like that.” Ajax placed a hand on your cheek. “I promise nothing will change. I will always be myself my darling. This is only a stepping stone, a piece of my journey. I promise, I promise I will always remain as I am. And I’ll never forget about you, nor my family, nor this village. Nothing is going to change. I’ll make sure it won’t. So stop crying my darling; tears never looked good on you anyways.”

And yet, how things have already changed. Still, you said nothing, instead wiping your eyes and pressing your forehead against Ajax’s. His familiar presence was reassuring, and you thought of the years ahead of you, perhaps the eternity ahead of you, when you could no longer rely on him being there. Your eyes welled with tears again, and this time you made no move to stop them. You let yourself cry. If there was anything in the world worth crying about, surely this was one of those things.

 There was a new name signed in Ajax’s letters. “Childe” was the first name, “Tartaglia” was the second. They seemed to mar the page somewhat, written in Ajax’s – no, Childe’s – bold, slashing script. You hated the names, hated the memories they stirred up, reminders of all you’d lost in such a small amount of time.

The day you’d found out Childe was to become a Harbinger you’d raged as you’d never raged before. Locking yourself in the small apartment you’d managed to find – having moved out of Morepesok once the memories had become too oppressive – you’d spent most of your time reading the letter over and over and over.

He’d wanted you to attended, writing you were basically his family at this point, and besides, he wanted to show you to the Tsaritsa. Though the line about family filled your heart with no little affection, you’d refused flat out. It would’ve been too painful, seeing the crux of his transformation; the death of Ajax, the birth of Tartaglia. Childe had said nothing to your refusal, but he was clearly worried, and for a while afterwards the letters were more frequent. But even that stopped after a while, and now you savored what little information you could get, the torn pages of last month’s note a testimony to how much you reread them.

You wished that you could somehow end this purgatory you’d found yourself in. Though you’d begun your own career by now, pushing yourself to your limits as you were sure Childe was doing in his, nothing seemed so important as the drama that had comprised your entire life. How long had you known Childe? You could no longer remember. Long ago, so very long ago. Back when the world was simpler, comprised only of candy from one of the big cities, and fighting over the best fishing rod. Tears were shed over particularly brutal games of tag, then forgotten the next day. How odd that world seemed now, something you could never go back to.

 Every once in a while you’d be met not by a letter, but by a visit. Those were the best days. The days where you could set all your worries and your unease away. When you could once more press your ear against Childe’s chest and feel the steady beating of his heart. As long as you could do that, maybe it’d be alright.

“How’s my darling?” Childe’s voice carried down the hall of your apartment. You’d dropped the letter you’d been reading, his letter, and ran towards the entrance. Throwing yourself in his arms you wept tears of joy. Childe returned the embrace just as enthusiastically, though his eyes were dry. They’d changed, his eyes, or perhaps you’d just learned to notice the hardness that resided in them. “I’m home.” Childe murmured, eyes closed, expression one of perfect bliss. “Don’t worry beloved, I’m home.”

His presence never left yours the days he came to visit. Always there was an arm slung around your waist, or a chin resting on your shoulder or your head. His presence was as comforting as ever, and you soaked it in gladly. He’d changed. Not that you were surprised by that, of course he’d changed. His confidence was much more calculated, his words now slicked with flattery and deceit. He easily persuaded the fishmonger to give you a discount, and some sweet talk with the waiter at a café you frequented earned you a free lemon loaf. You took it, knowing that he just wanted to treat you, but the sugary confection stuck to the roof of your mouth, which had somehow developed a bitter taste.

You said nothing about it. There was no longer any point in arguing. You two were tied together by all sorts of strings. History, location, youth, love. And yet you’d gone your own separate ways. No more were the dreams of adventuring together. The real world had come along and stolen it away. The Tsaritsa had ripped that future from your grasp, and with it went your happiness.

“Are you happy, my love?” Childe asked late one evening. You were cuddled on the small couch in what comprised your living room. You nestled against Childe, breathing him in. Were you happy? No. But in that moment you weren’t unhappy either. In that moment you could forget it all.

“Do you think that sailors feel lonely?” You asked instead, drawing circles absentmindedly on the palms of Childe’s hands. He wore gloves now, expensive ones, not like the mittens that were popular in Snezhnaya. It was so odd to watch him put them on each morning. How things had changed. “They must be lonely,” you continued now, “for there’s nothing but the ship, the water, and the stars above.”

Childe paused, staring off into the distance. He did that a lot recently. You didn’t begrudge him it. Sometimes, when he was in a frank sort of mood, he admitted that he didn’t like the Fatui’s underhanded nature. Better to fight something head on than attack from the shadows. He’d quickly added on that it was the Tsaritsa’s wish, and surely she must know better than him. But it must’ve been difficult, following a path so different than the one you were born to. Betraying your nature, every day of your life.

“It must be lonely sometimes.” He finally replied, glancing back at you. “But I don’t think they’re lonely, no. The stars may be far away, but they’re steadfast, unchanging. And sailors will always be able to rely on them.” You were silent, considering his views.

“Still... stars are so very cold.”

“Perhaps, but they’re also beautiful, are they not? And like I said, who ever heard of a star changing?” A pause, as it seemed Childe was steadying himself, dipping into unpleasant territory. “I hope I will always be your star, my love. I hope you will always be able to rely on me.”

“I will.” You promised, giving Childe a quick kiss. You meant it, even if you weren’t sure that the metaphor was apt. Childe was forever changing; his mannerisms, his name, his location, his words. Sometimes it seemed as if there was nothing left of Ajax, nothing but a small sliver of light, shivering in the darkness that was fate.

“And I will always remained steadfast in my love for you.” Childe promised in return. “For there is nothing more important to me than family, and you are my family. You are that which I hold closest to my heart, and I’ll never stop loving you. I promise.”

His words were smoother than they had been before, polished by the need to be appealing to those who heard it. But you knew they were true. All throughout your life, throughout the pain, the hardship, the feeling of slowly falling off a cliff, all throughout that the one thing that remained was the love between you and Childe. Even if you had nothing, at least you had that.

“Childe?” He grimaced at the word and you paused. “Ajax,” you began again, “are you happy?”

Childe didn’t reply, instead leaning over to kiss you. You reciprocated it gladly, not truly wanting an answer to your question, although a part of you desperately needed it. Was Childe happy? You couldn’t tell. But despite your newfound hatred for the Tsaritsa, your disdain for the gods which had grown in the years of your hardship, your long abandoned faith, you still prayed to the Seven that Childe was happy. Because he deserved it. Because you loved him.

 You tried not to cry when he left, wanting to see him off with a smile and a wave, the way noble men and women would wave to the knights who were on their way to save the kingdom. But always your voice betrayed you, cracking and shaking, trembling violently against the knowledge that you wouldn’t see your loved one again, not for a very long time.

“Be careful.” You whispered, giving Childe one last hug.

“I will.” He assured you, kissing your forehead. “You be careful as well my love, I couldn’t stand it something were to happen to you. If anything happens, think of me, I’ll rush to your side immediately.”

“Don’t forget to write,” you replied, switching the subject so you didn’t have to think about the implications of Childe abandoning the Fatui, what might happen to him if he tried, “your letters are all I have.”

“I hope that’s not true!” Childe said, tone full of false mirth. “I hope you’re happy beloved, I hope you find happiness when I’m gone. Your life ought not to be spent waiting for me.”

“But you’re all I have.” You replied, staring down at the ground. “Everything has changed. My home, my work, my future. Even you’ve changed, you just keep changing and changing, running farther and farther away. But you’re still all I have. And I have to hold on to you, no matter what.”

Childe brought his hand to your cheek, raising your gaze up.

“I’m not changing my darling. No matter what I do, no matter where I go, I’m still Ajax. I’m still the man who wants to spend his life with you, who wants to travel the world with you, fighting monsters, sleeping under the stars at night. I’m still the man who wants to wake up with you every night and go to bed with you every morning. I’ll never run ahead of you, I’ll never leave you behind. Because if I’m all you have then you are what keeps me myself. You are why I can still be Ajax. And that will never change. So don’t despair, and don’t let yourself be swallowed up while I’m gone. Live your life to the fullest, I promise I’ll always be there, waiting for when you need me.”

 Childe waved from the ship he’d boarded until it disappeared over the horizon. You waved back, even as your arm ached and your hand fell asleep. “Goodbye.” You whispered to the wind. There was no reply, but then again you weren’t looking for one.

Childe, Ajax, Tartaglia. These names all belonged to the one you loved. He was a whirlwind, a rogue current which had knocked you off your feet, carrying you into uncertainty. And yet you welcomed him, longed for him, loved him with all your soul.

Even if things kept changing, even if the Fatui’s hold on him only grew stronger, you’d still believe in him. He was your star, guiding you through a desolate ocean. Even if he sometimes disappeared behind the clouds, he’d always be there. You had to believe that, had to trust him.

He was your star after all.

Your Childe.

Your Ajax.

#If you really want to feel down look up the lyrics to “Dear You” and have it on as you read #For some reason the Higurashi soundtrack really fits this fic #I realize there’s a lot of crying in this I hope it’s not too much #childe #childe x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #oneshot #my writing

[birdymuses]

[ It’s Hanazwa hours I guess. Under the cut is some unedited chat logs containing Teru HCs and meta, mostly for my own purposes and for beefier bio information, but feel free to peek if you like this little bastard ]

wow, cool looking nut — 04/01/2021

sometimes I think about Teru and I get sad

Beef — 04/01/2021

How so

wow, cool looking nut — 04/01/2021

Teru is underexplored in the way most shounen secondary characters are in that we see him at one extreme of a character arc and then another but we don’t get much info on how he gets to each point or what his journey is like since he’s not Protagonist-kun and shounen tends to omit emotional journeys that arent tied to a physical conflict.

We know from canon that Teru became a monster as a result of some deep insecurity that Shigeo could recognize in him, but that's all the detail we get about it, really. Still there's evidence of what may have gone down. Teru's biggest issue is that he's isolated--physically in that he lives alone at age 14 and socially in that Teru doesn't have friends. He does well in school and gets confessions from girls. He has admirers and could get a favor from just about anybody, but that doesn't mean much. Teru doesn't have friends. He has followers, he has admirers, he has lackeys and subordinates. That’s it.  

In that sense you start to see a picture of a person who puts himself on a pedestal as a show for everybody else. He can't befriend but he can intimidate, which are almost the same thing if you squint.  He can impress and win approval or at the very least obedience in these underhanded ways that give him what almost looks like having social support, but what are those relationships?  Instead of having 0 relationships he has a hundred little nothings that amount to jack shit emotionally and don't fill whatever hole is there in his heart. He doesn't know another way and I think that's profoundly sad.

we are all lonely, aren’t we?

Related: I wonder a lot about why he lives alone. I bet that's a sad story

Beef — 04/01/2021

100 little nothings and one Mobbu

wow, cool looking nut — 04/01/2021

My man is the definition of talking loud, not saying much

and to speak on the post-mobbu years, he does a complete 180 but you can still see those narcissistic tendencies shining through in his interactions with other characters from time to time. Hell, he saw one member of Claw and was like OH SHIT FREE WAR CRIMES!!  Like, he’s not as transformed as he is trying to be.

Shounen anime will almost never show you this but I think old habits die hard and the change that Teru wants to see in himself probably comes harder than you get to see in the show

Beef — 04/01/2021

And from what we know about his personality, he's probably good at pretending it isn't hard

wow, cool looking nut — 04/01/2021

Oh for sure. I could see Teru even now having a healthy amount of insecurity about that, especially with Shigeo there to compare himself to. He doesn't know how to operate like that.  He can't help that his first impulse is not to be as invariably self sacrificing as Shigeo is. It requires rebuilding ones entire mindset from the ground up to achieve something like that. You cant just have new thoughts on a used brain without a lot of time and effort. It doesn’t work like that.

there is a moment in canon that I think about a lot where Teru VERY OFFHANDEDLY mentions that he has nightmares about his fight with Shigeo and then never mentions it again

I think about that constantly

Beef — 04/01/2021

..........wonder which parts he has nightmares about

He went through some scary shit but he chose to put Mob through some scary shit too

wow, cool looking nut — 04/01/2021

Yeahhhh,,, like not only does he bear the weight of not being able to change so easily but also that of his past actions. The constant reminder of what he almost did to Shigeo, who is somebody he clearly values extremely highly. His only close friend if we're being honest.

And there’s some mental gymnastics he could do to justify himself but I scarcely see him considering it for even a second. Yes, Shigeo is scary when provoked but that pales in comparison that he could have easily killed somebody he now adores

isnt it horrifying that you could have kept being a monster at some point or another instead of realizing

I think about Teru a lot

Beef — 04/01/2021

I imagine the feeling of trying to crush someone's windpipe with your own hands is not a sensation you just forget

esp. for someone who's been violent before, but only from behind a psychokinetic distance

wow, cool looking nut — 04/01/2021

there are a number of extremely high quality fics that explore those concepts and its like finally somebody in a fandom fucking gets me

canon wont touch this kind of shit

but like you dont just go and have a whole moral event horizon without some shit to sort through

Beef — 04/01/2021

You're right but I'm also laughing at the idea of Teru speedrunning the kind of growth most people don't do in a lifetime and going "what like it's hard?"

RIP to every other normal human being but I'm different

wow, cool looking nut — 04/01/2021

KDJFHSKH i mean fair

Considering he CANONICALLY just sees other people doing psychic techniques he's never imagined and then perfects the in an afternoon

Give this man 15 minutes and a redbull and he’ll be back like a rotisserie shithead outdoing you at your own game. Teru is kind of a fucking genius and that goes largely understated for how often it is expressed in the canon lol

#[ooc] #[Headcanon] Teru #[Meta] Teru #[Mob Psycho 100 Commentary] #cw strangulation

[moleofmetal]

Metal Mole at the Movies: Lords of Chaos film review

So today's post is a little different, I’ve decided to branch out and be a movie critic to give my opinion on this year’s controversial film Lords of Chaos. A film that is in Metal so I’m sure I am forgiven for my deviance with this. Album reviews are coming back.

Anyone who has more than a passing interest in black metal at all knows about this book (written by Michael Moynihan and Didrik Søderlind) and the ghastly tales within its pages. If not read the book, have at least read through the “Early Norwegian black metal scene” Wikipedia page. And that's all you really need to know as this film. It tells the extreme tale of the creation of True Norwegian Black Metal and the most infamous band Mayhem and the exploits of its main players, Dead, Euronomous and Varg Vikernes (plus a few other faces of the scene). As well as showing the resulting mayhem of murders, suicide, and church burnings.

Bringing it all to life on the screen through the director, best known as music video producer: Jonas Åkerlund (Briefly a black metaller himself as a rehearsal guitarist for Bathory), this gruesome tale is for all to see in its glory.

Now: it’s impossible to review this film without also touching on my own feelings of the events and crimes depicted, as well on Black metal itself so I will get this out of the way first. I love Black metal! Its tales shown here are almost semi-mythical in the lore and aesthetics of the genre. It is one of the darkest forms of art and It has been described by some as evil personified in music so of course evil shit happened. They didn’t have to happen but this controversy is what fuelled the fire and helped launch its intrigue and boost is notoriety. No one will ever know what Black metal would be like if the events didn’t happen. But this world is the world for better or worst.

If metal draws in the “outsiders” of society, then black metal definitely draws in the “outsiders” of the "outsiders" and the more deranged / mentally unstable of us. This seems to be clear now and in its early days with Dead clearly suffering from Cotard’s delusion (the delusional belief that they are already dead, do not exist, or are putrefying). Although this doesn’t excuse the extreme motivations and actions, it does help to explain some of it. The crimes I find most heinous in all of this not the murder of Euronomous by Varg Vikernes [Spoiler haha], or indeed the church burnings (which did result in the death of a firefighter) but Faust’s (Emperor drummer) murder of Magne Andreassen (a gay man who was stabbed 37 in the Olympic park in 1992) this is a sickening murder that was completely senseless to me. But: as Faust put it he was “looking to take out some aggression out”, it just happened to be Magne that came into his range on that fateful night. It shows more about his mental stability of the man, although he has distanced himself from it being motivated by nothing more than angst and aggression.

This is probably showing me for the leftish shithead I am or as a false Black Metal fan but I believe when It comes to this, no murder or hatred can be truly justified (Fuck Nazi’s and all that), but a key part in this is the fact that even great people sometimes do shitty things, as human nature is deeply flawed.

How much you can truly separate the art from the artist or how much believe in “death of the author” is obviously a difficult conundrum for anyone (I’ll leave this to the reader), but the way I see it is the worst the crime/personality can be offset by the value and quality of the art they make. This makes to soften the blow for some people.

Anyway back to the actual film. It is quite a realistic movie overall, as it plays it mostly straight as it can. It's a dark and shocking film and will be pretty unpleasant to non-metal or Horror fans, who won't find anyone relatable or not psychopathic in this. 

 At times it feels extremely visceral and violent, with a lot of blood and gore, (Dead’s suicide is particularly raw and painful to view.) while adding only minor jumps. Euronymous, Varg and others have been reduced to some degree to mere characters in this though, as the clunky and at times cringy dialog about the music are very hard to play straight. So what they have done to compensate is to up some of the comedy value. This was done mostly by pointing out their stupidity in their actions. Varg Vikernes takes mostly the brunt of this (as with his compliance Blackthorn) who get the funniest moments. 

Euronymous played by Rory Culkin (yes Kevin McCallister’s little brother) does play his part very well.  Euronymous seems very ambitious for himself and band while being very self-centered and attention seeking through the actions of others. Although his doe-eyed look at times is distracting at times, his acting is as good as it can be and does not shy away from what must have been a mental toll the events must have taken on him, with his persistent paranoia. 

Emory Cohen as Varg Vikernes, on the other hand, comes across as very dorky and awkwardly as if the film is covertly taking the piss out of him. He is depicted as an extremist with some twisted motivations that seem all his own doing. Only needing the slightest prompt to carry out the burnings. He's is acted extremely well and makes for a strong villain. Jack Kilmer (Batmans son) as Dead is played about the best of them as a weird and introverted personality, while also giving him what looks like extreme depressive episodes, he doesn't say much but all the lore of him and deeds are kept true on screen.

Sky Ferreira’s role as the fictional photographer girlfriend of Euronymous: Ann-Marit feels mostly only there to give Euronymous a chance to talk more and explain some more of his stresses and feeling. She is acted well though, I feel like she might only be there to stop there being too many dudes in this flick. In a story that is dominated by dudes, there isn’t much room for her. Thankful they didn’t demote their motivations down to “fighting over a girl”

This movie has the tagline/disclaimer “based on true and lies” is perfect for what is shown since no-one will truly know what went down but you can some of the exaggerations particularly in the amount of sex they have. You can also the attention they put in too, with several points showing and replicating actual and well know photos within the scenes of the film as well as make a great copy of an early Mayhem gig with Dead on vocals. Bloody and graphic! Truly played though is the soundtrack: which is all extreme metal, loud and in your face. With all you kvlt favorites (Celtic Frost, Sarcofago, Sodom, Bathory, Tormentor) here all with correct decade and style. Awesome! 

Although this film is mostly hated at the moment, I can see this film becoming a cult/kvlt classic with metalheads in time. It’s a good watch. The comedy elements and what is shown makes for a fairly decent romp of a film that seems to do something that the black metal scene could do with! It has fun and doesn’t take itself too seriously. [7/10]

#Lords of chaos #film review #7/10 #mayhem #black metal