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silkjade · 4 months

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STILL WITH HEARTS BEATING

alhaitham x reader ⤀ warnings: gn!reader, insecurity issues, fear of vulnerability, hurt/comfort, selfship coded a/n: a vent drabble, so everything is super self indulgent + reader is based on me lol

“tell me atlas. what is heavier: the world or its people’s hearts?” — darshana suresh

although he prefers to keep his nose buried in a book, alhaitham is still as perceptive as ever, taking note of all the minuscule changes in your demeanor, even whilst you don a mask to stifle your woes.

he sees it first in the wistful sighs scattered amongst your too calm breaths, in your crafted smile, too practiced to be natural, and the strained words that fall too heavily out your lips, each in a race to prove that everything is normal and fine—that any anomalous behavior might only be the ramifications of an exhausting day.

your name rolls so naturally off his tongue, as he reaches out to you, catching your wrist before you can disappear into the bedroom and sleep away your swallowed emotions.

“are you alright?”

he asks out of courtesy, but to him, the signs are clear as day: the sharp inhale and slow exhale as you rally to fabricate another facade, chin tilted just a smidge too high as you turn to face him, dull eyes glistening with the remnants of unshed tears, forced to retreat by the winged flutter of your lashes.

to him, the signs are clear as day that you are not, that you are only putting on a brave face, something which he finds odd within the threshold of your shared home.

“just tired is all,” you reply, speaking in half truths. after all, it's exhausting trying to keep up appearances when all you wish to do, is to curl into yourself and rot into your bed.

you flash him a quick smile, small and devoid of warmth; a lame imposter to the very one he’s grown so terribly fond of.

he repeats your name, this time softer, brows knitted with equal parts skepticism and concern at your empty words. filled with even emptier spirit, he notes.

nonchalant, rehearsed, refined—and yet, he can hear the melancholia that spills into your tone. see the downward twitch of your lead-laden lips and the watery shift of your eyes as you avert your gaze in self-consciousness.

“you don’t have to hide from me,” he murmurs, and you want to believe him, want to believe that you’re brave enough to lay down your defenses, that you can trust him to hold your porcelain heart in his hands without threat of endangerment.

you open your mouth to speak, but not a sound comes out as the words turn to bile in your throat. to swallow the bitter liquid, or to spit your heart out and lay it bare for him to see. for alhaitham, who is more than just an akademiya giant, but a cornerstone of sumeru itself: brilliant and brave, kind in spite of his unconventional displays. the sun who shines by the heat of his own radiance.

his moon, he calls you. and yet the moon does not glow; the moon whose only light is a reflection of the sun.

you purse your lips, internally willing yourself to believe that these tears will not spill. it'd be egregious—like coughing up blood when you too have a reputation to uphold, a certain presence to be perceived. for even the moon, who shines by grace of borrowed light, is steadfast in its quiet elegance.

“it’s fine,” you insist, “really.” it’s heavy under the weight of your pride, but at least your heart is safe here in your chest, isolated and tucked away.

you push until he relents, relaxing his grip around your wrist. good, you think, he's given up. but then why does it so painfully squeeze your heart in a way you cannot convey—like a hair-lined fracture upon your brittle bones.

but alhaitham is no fool; he intends to prove he’d catch you before you can shatter, freeing your wrist, only so that he might pull you into his arms instead. there is no shortage to the vast infinity of words he can say, but matters of the heart have never been his forte… and so he hopes that his actions might speak more profoundly than his words.

the sudden impact blows your eyes wide with surprise, tears already threatening to spill from the solace of just his embrace. there are no sounds other than his steady heart and even breaths, no scent besides the faded woody fragrance of his cologne. it's safe here, cocooned in his arms, and you think that for a moment, perhaps everything is and will be fine.

you relax against him, basking in his warmth, as you rest into the crook of his neck, absentmindedly staring at the patterns on the floor.

“you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” he whispers, “but please don’t hide from me.”

your hands, pressed flush against his chest, curl into themselves, relieved that he cannot see the tears welling in your eyes. he does, however, feel that first crystalline droplet that slides freely down your cheeks, melting into the fabric of his clothes as more follow. alhaitham runs his fingers through your hair, while his other hand hugs you by the small of your back, holding you ever closer. the occasional sob racks your body, silent and reluctant, but it’s a start.

a heart is a complex web of earnest emotions, floridly woven into secrets he cannot fault you for keeping locked away in a vault. perhaps one day, you’d rely on him, let him in to share the burden. and if he should be so lucky, perhaps you'd deem him worthy to be your home, so that you might rest with him, without armor. as for now, he’ll gladly cushion your fall, give you a soft place to land.

in the night’s dark embrace, the moon’s milky light paints patterns through the stained glass window of your bedroom, and behind you, your lover’s arms stay wrapped around your waist, holding you close beneath the blankets.

“… alhaitham?” your voice is delicate, spun from silk amidst the quiet of the night.

“hmm?” he peaks an eye open at the unfamiliar use of his full name.

“if I ask you something, do you promise to answer honestly?”

“I don’t see any reason not to.” The low vibrations of his tone tickles your skin as he replies with a kiss to your shoulder.

“am I…,” you hesitate, voice wavering as you contemplate whether words whispered into the wind might write itself into stone. “am I… enough for you?”

the seconds seem to stand still, as if all the world and even the sky itself, were holding its breath in bated anticipation.

finally, a creak cuts through the silence as the bed shifts alongside alhaitham, who now hovers over you, his body and arms trapping you in between. the intensity of his gaze prompts you to look away, but he reaches for your chin, holding you gently so that you have nowhere to look, save for his technicolored eyes.

enough for him? is that what you were upset about? what a shame, he thinks.

“If you could only see what I see,” he murmurs, with a kiss to your forehead. his moon, his stars, his entire night sky, who guides him in the dark.

“intelligent, intuitive, independent,” he murmurs, kissing along your jaw, and down your neck in between each word. “outspoken and fiercely strong. beautiful, capable of anything…”

alhaitham glances up, only satisfied once the insecurity is dispelled from your features, replaced by an absolute reassurance.

"… which I knew from the moment you made me fall completely in love with you."

he peppers your face with little kisses, and you can’t help but let out a soft laugh, almost embarrassed. “haitham…”

alhaitham pauses at your first genuine smile of the night. “I mean every word. you’re more than enough, just as you are. and no one should be able to take that away from you, so…”

he rolls back into bed, pulling you with him as he goes, so that you might drift to sleep with your head rested atop his chest, listening to the steady tune of his heart, as it sings to you in your dreams.

a/n2: this was actually vry therapeutic but i did not intend for it to get this long, and so i m a bit embarrassed (don’t perceive) however if u have made it this far, as always, thank u for reading ♡

#— 𝓼𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓙. ༯ #alhaitham x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #al haitham x reader #alhaitham x you #genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabbles #alhaitham comfort #alhaitham x reader comfort #alhaitham x reader fluff #alhaitham fluff #genshin fluff #genshin comfort #genshin impact x you #genshin x you

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cryptotheism · 6 months

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Third shelf, median book

Get Secret Doctrine'd lol.

This is my copy of Mme. Helena Blavatsky's The Secret Doctrine. This particular version is a two-volume 1977 reprint. This is the first of the two volumes.

A cornerstone of western Esotericism. Blavatsky lays out a sweeping, evocative pseudohistory in an attempt to syncretize and unify all human spirituality. Everything from holy texts to archeological evidence to folk tales are treated as evidence of a hidden true religion from which all spirituality branched.

It is difficult to describe the impact this text had on the English speaking world. In 1888, this was many readers first and only exposure to Buddhism and Hinduism. The theory that all religions shared a common "true" ancestor was not a new idea. What made Balavatsky unique was that she had actually been to southeast Asia, and she made clever use of ideas from popular contemporary novels to help sell her ideas. This text was an absolute bombshell for a certain type of guy in 1888.

It's influence on western history is bizarre and --in my opinion-- under-discussed. It's shadow can be seen in everything from authors like Arthur Conan Doyle, and Lovecraft, to painters like Kandinsky and Mondrian, to the early Nazi party.

The text did not spark interest in eastern religion, but it was gasoline for the fire. It set up Theosophy to be an umbrella mythology, which combined several disparate popular myths and ideas into a single, cohesive system.

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ardafanonarch · 4 months

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Hi there! This blog is a very cool concept.

If you feel up to it, I'd like to know where the idea of Maedhros as a diplomat and scholar comes from.

In fic he's often portrayed as such in Valinor, serving at Finwë's court, sometimes being close with Fingolfin, bring into linguistics, etc.

Thank you!

Maedhros the Diplomat (with an Addendum on Maedhros the Scholar)

[~3.4k Words]

Ah, Maedhros. A treasure trove of fanon for our first excavation. As this is also our first investigation of characterisation, let’s establish a structure for talking about characters.

There are two ways that we learn what a character is like from The Silmarillion:

The narrator tells us, either: a. with short, pithy statements (someone is “wise” or “steadfast” or “greatest”) b. with longer descriptions

We deduce character from their actions and their relationships to others.

Using this structure, let’s look briefly as what we know about Maedhros.

1a.

Maedhros isn’t “mightiest in skill of word and hand” like his father or “the strongest, the most steadfast, and the most valiant” like Fingolfin. He isn’t even noted as being particularly good at anything like his brothers Maglor “the mighty singer,” Curufin “who inherited most if his father’s skill of hand,” or Celegorm, Amrod, and Amras who were all skilled hunters. He’s not even noteworthy for any negative traits like Caranthir, “the harshest of the brothers and the most quick to anger.”

Despite being one of the story’s protagonists, and certainly the most narratively prominent of the sons of Fëanor, all Maedhros gets in this category is “tall”[1].

1b.

In this category, Maedhros gets more fully fleshed-out:

[At Lake Mithrim] Maedhros in time was healed; for the fire of life was hot within him, and his strength was of the ancient world, such as those possessed who were nurtured in Valinor. His body recovered from his torment and became hale, but the shadow of his pain was in his heart; and he lived to wield his sword with left hand more deadly than his right had been. The Silmarillion, “Of the Return of the Noldor”

Maedhros did deeds of surpassing valour, and the Orcs fled before his face; for since his torment upon Thangorodrim his spirit burned like a white fire within, and he was as one that returns from the dead. The Silmarillion, “Of the Ruin of Beleriand”

Perhaps one of the most striking descriptions of Maedhros comes from an abandoned alliterative verse poem, The Flight of the Noldoli (=Noldor), published in The Lays of Beleriand and dating to 1925 — about a year before Tolkien first put the “Silmarillion” into a prose format in the annalistic-historical mode of the published text.

... and Maidros tall (the eldest, whose ardour yet more eager burnt than his father’s flame, than Fëanor’s wrath; him fate awaited with fell purpose.) Flight of the Noldoli, lines 123-126

Fire, valour, pain, deadliness, wrath, doom. Taken alone, these passages don’t exactly suggest "diplomat and scholar," yet those qualities are a cornerstone how we often see Maedhros discussed and portrayed by fans. So why?

Maedhros the Diplomat, at least, seems to be based on what he does in canon.

Pausing for a moment, what does it actually mean to be "diplomatic"?

Here’s from Merriam-Webster under diplomatic:

[…]

of, relating to, or concerned with the art and practice of conducting negotiations between nations: of, relating to, or concerned with diplomacy or diplomats.

employing tact and conciliation especially in situations of stress

And for diplomacy:

the art and practice of conducting negotiations between nations

skill in handling affairs without arousing hostility: TACT

It’s worth noting that the first use of the word diplomacy dates to the 18th century (1766) and the concept itself is somewhat anachronistic to the pre-modern world of the “Silmarillion.” However, it’s not difficult to apply the spirit of an “art and practice of negotiations between nations” to First Age Beleriand. We’ll also consider the secondary definition of “tact.”

The Case for Maedhros the Diplomat

Let's look at some times that Maedhros practiced diplomacy and was diplomatic:

1. Waiving his claim to the kingship of the Noldor in favour of Fingolfin:

For Maedhros begged forgiveness for the desertion in Araman; and he waived his claim to kingship over all the Noldor, saying to Fingolfin: ‘If there lay no grievance between us, lord, still the kingship would rightly come to you, the eldest here of the house of Finwë, and not the least wise.’ The Silmarillion, “Of the Return of the Noldor”

Is this an instance of diplomacy? Yes: resolving conflict by removing one’s own claim to a title.

Is it diplomatic? The dialogue seems pretty tactful — demonstrating deference, employing flattery and logic — and is definitely an improvement on Fëanor’s approach to the contested kingship!

2. Brother-wrangling

There are two significant instances of this in the Silmarillion:

resolving conflict

After an argument breaks out between Angrod and Caranthir over Angrod’s authority to act as messenger to Thingol, “Maedhros indeed rebuked Caranthir … But Maedhros restrained his brothers, and they departed from the council…" (“Of the Return of the Noldor”)

Is this an instance of diplomacy? Yes: removing threats to peaceable relations between rulers.

Is it diplomatic? Since we don’t know exactly how Maedhros rebuked Caranthir and restrained his brothers, it’s hard to say how tactfully it was done. Maybe.

removing to the Eastern march

There Maedhros and his brothers kept watch, gathering all such people as would come to them, and they had few dealings with their kinsfolk westward, save at need. It is said indeed that Maedhros himself devised this plan, to lessen the chances of strife, and because he was very willing that the chief peril of assault should fall upon himself. The Silmarillion, “Of the Return of the Noldor”

Is this an instance of diplomacy? Yes: again removing threats to peaceable relations between rulers. Also involves gathering followers. Notably, the strategy seems to have worked for as long as it lasted (that is, until Celegorm and Curufin found themselves in Nargothrond).

Is it diplomatic? Again, unclear how Maedhros executed this plan, but the narrator’s tone here is quite approving so it’s reasonable to assume that it was done tactfully.

3. Remaining on good terms with the other Princes of the Noldor

A few examples of this:

Continuing from the preceding passage, “he remained for his part in friendship with the houses of Fingolfin and Finarfin, and would come among them at times for common counsel.” (“Of the Noldor in Beleriand”)

Is this an instance of diplomacy? Yes.

Is it diplomatic? Yes: extra diplomacy points for taking it upon himself to go to them.

He (with Maglor) attended Mereth Aderthad, the Feast of Reuniting. (“Of the Noldor in Beleriand”)

Is this an instance of diplomacy? Yes, though showing up to the High King’s peace party seems like pretty bare minimum lordly behaviour, not exemplary diplomacy.

Is it diplomatic? We don’t know except through the absence of any evidence to the contrary. Since the Mereth Aderthad was overall a diplomatic success, it’s reasonable to assume Maedhros contributed to that success and stayed on his best behaviour.

He (with Maglor) goes hunting with Finrod. (“Of the Coming of Men into the West”)

Is this an instance of diplomacy? Sure: a leisurely hunting trip with the cousin whose kin you once killed (oops) is a good move.

Is it diplomatic? Again, lacking evidence to the contrary, reasonable to assume Maedhros behaved himself and the trip went off without conflict.

Remaining on good terms in particular with “Fingon, ever the friend of Maedhros” (“Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad”). The anecdote about the history of the Dragon-helm (below), which has it pass from Maedhros to Fingon, additionally attests that these two “often exchanged tokens of friendship.”

Is this an instance of diplomacy? Yes: in particular, the exchange of tokens of friendship between rulers.

Is it diplomatic? Unless we imagine Fingon was himself tactless (which is contradicted by what we’re told about him elsewhere) and their friendship was built around being mutually despicable (see: Celegorm and Curufin), fair to assume this was all done courteously.

4. Making alliances

with the Sindar

We know that many Sindar outside Doriath joined themselves to and followed the princes of the Noldor, presumably including the sons of Fëanor. (The Grey Annals §48 in The History of Middle-earth Vol. 11: The Wars of the Jewels, and elsewhere).

with the Dwarves

In the preparations for the Nirnaeth Arnoediad:

... Maedhros had the help of the Naugrim, both in armed force and in great store of weapons; and the smithies of Nogrod and Belegost were busy in those days. The Silmarillion, “Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad”

Also, from the Narn i hîn Húrin in Unfinished Tales:

[The Dragon-helm of Dor-lómin] was given by Azaghâl to Maedhros, as guerdon for the saving of his life and treasure, when Azaghâl was waylaid by Orcs upon the Dwarf-road in East Beleriand.

Azaghâl then sacrifices himself and his people at the Nirnaeth, making the Fëanorian retreat possible.

with the Easterlings

But Maedhros, knowing the weakness of the Noldor and the Edain, whereas the pits of Angband seemed to hold store inexhaustible and ever-renewed, made alliance with these new-come Men, and gave his friendship to the greatest of their chieftains, Bor and Ulfang. And Morgoth was well content; for this was as he had designed. The sons of Bor were Borlad, Borlach, and Borthand; and they followed Maedhros and Maglor, and cheated the hope of Morgoth, and were faithful. The sons of Ulfang the Black were Ulfast, and Ulwarth, and Uldor the accursed; and they followed Caranthir and swore allegiance to him, and proved faithless. The Silmarillion, “Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad”

the Union of Maedhros

Perhaps Maedhros' most-cited and most famous act of "diplomacy":

Yet Morgoth would destroy them all, one by one, if they could not again unite, and make new league and common council; and he began those counsels for the raising of the fortunes of the Eldar that are called the Union of Maedhros. The Silmarillion, “Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad”

And [Maedhros] gathered together again all his brothers and all the people who would follow them; and the Men of Bor and Ulfang were marshalled and trained for war, and they summoned yet more of their kinsfolk out of the East. Moreover in the west Fingon, ever the friend of Maedhros, took counsel with Himring, and in Hithlum the Noldor and the Men of the house of Hador prepared for war. The Silmarillion, “Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad”

Are these instances of diplomacy? Yes: protecting neighbours, gathering followers, establishing partnerships, forming alliances with other groups of peoples, and organising a major offensive on a common enemy.

Is it diplomatic? Again, absence to the contrary and general success suggests Maedhros conducted himself tactfully in all of these dealings. One thing: I have seen a tendency in fandom to credit superior leadership and diplomacy on the part of Maedhros and Maglor for the fact that their Easterling allies remain faithful while Caranthir’s do not. Maybe; but bear in mind that’s a deduction, not something the text explicitly states.

I am sure there are other tidbits here and there to support the diplomatic ability of Maedhros, but I think we have enough here to conclude the Maedhros the Diplomat is a fanon characterisation with support it in canon.

The Case against Maedhros the Diplomat

So Maedhros was a diplomat; but was Maedhros an exemplary diplomat, as the prominence of his characterisation as such would suggest, or just an average one? Let us look at some of Maedhros’ diplomatic failings.

1. hubris, attempted deception

Look: we can’t neglect that Maedhros is behind one of the most disastrous failures of diplomacy in the First Age — his attempt to parley with Morgoth that ends up getting him captured.

Though not in the published Silmarillion, in the 1937 Quenta Silmarillion, Fëanor with his dying breath tells his sons “never to treat or parley with their foe.” (§88). (Christopher Tolkien drew from a later text, the Grey Annals (1950s), for the account of the death of Fëanor in the published Silmarillion where this command does not exist.) I cannot help but laugh at the fact that following this exhortation Maedhros immediately turns around and attempts to parley with Morgoth and outwit him.

Perhaps diplomatic relations with Morgoth are impossible, but then why accept the offer to parley at all? And what’s up with trying to beat Morgoth at his own game (deceit)? Honestly, Maedhros. Not your best moment.

We can say that he learned from this, but it does put into question the idea that Maedhros’ diplomatic training and excellence go back to his Valinorean days.

2. disdain of and aloofness towards another ruler

We saw how Maedhros restrained his brothers in the council where Angrod brought news from Thingol, but what about how Maedhros himself behaved at that council?

Cold seemed its welcome to the Noldor, and the sons of Fëanor were angered at the words; but Maedhros laughed, saying: ‘A king is he that can hold his own, or else his title is vain. Thingol does but grant us lands where his power does not run. Indeed Doriath alone would be his realm this day, but for the coming of the Noldor. Therefore in Doriath let him reign, and be glad that he has the sons of Finwë for his neighbours, not the Orcs of Morgoth that we found. Elsewhere it shall go as seems good to us.’ The Silmarillion, “Of the Return of the Noldor”

Fandom loves the line and I can’t disagree that it’s an epic mic drop. But was this really the most diplomatic thing to say? In the Grey Annals, it is said that “the sons of Fëanor were ever unwilling to accept the overlordship of Thingol, and would ask for no leave where they might dwell or might pass.” (§48). (Interestingly, there does seem to have been a point, before word of the kinslaying at Alqualondë was out, that Thingol for his part was at least neutral on them, saying, “Of his sons I hear little to my pleasure; yet they are likely to prove the deadliest foes of our foe” (“Of the Noldor in Beleriand”)). Arriving at a new place and refusing to treat with the person who claims kingship of those lands — and apparently for no other reason besides disdain of that person’s ability as a ruler — doesn’t seem particularly diplomatic.

3. not supporting a superior's initiative

We saw evidence of Maedhros cooperating with the other princes of the Noldor, but that doesn't mean he threw his support behind them at every occasion to do so. When Fingolfin — supposedly, thanks for Maedhros, High King and his superior — tries to rally the Noldor to assault Angband, almost everyone was “little disposed to hearken to Fingolfin, and the sons of Fëanor at that time least of all.” (“Of the Ruin of Beleriand”).

This statement is frustratingly vague so I won’t speculate much besides to suggest that there could be something suspect — and undiplomatic — behind failing to support the initiative of the High King to whom you so graciously ceded your claim.

4. Oath-related diplomatic failures (kinslayings)

The extent to which the oath is to blame for events is a sticky issue and not the subject of this analysis, but since fulfilling the oath is essential to Maedhros’ character, it’s impossible to avoid it entirely.

The narrator of the Silmarillion is actually quite generous towards Maedhros when discussing the role of the oath in his failings, so it’s no surprise that many fans are likewise generous.

For example:

I quoted above the passage about Maedhros taking “the chief peril of assault” upon himself and remaining “for his part in friendship with the houses of Fingolfin and Finarfin,” and it is perhaps the strongest evidence for Maedhros’ diplomatic excellence. It also ends with the ominous words: “Yet he also was bound by the oath, though it slept now for a time.” (“Of the Return of the Noldor”)

And when the concept of the Union of Maedhros is introduced, we are told: “Yet the oath of Fëanor and the evil deeds that it had wrought did injury to the design of Maedhros, and he had less aid than should have been.” (“Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad”).

Both of these passages remind us that the oath — a vow to vengeance — is in the long-term at cross-purposes with cooperation and diplomacy.

This becomes especially evident when a Silmaril ends up in the hands of those who should be allies: other elves.

For Maedhros and his brothers, being constrained by their oath, had before sent to Thingol and reminded him with haughty words of their claim, summoning him to yield the Silmaril, or become their enemy. The Silmarillion, “Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad”

The narrator pins this failure of diplomacy on the oath. But, as Maglor will point out in his final moments with Maedhros, the oath does not state how and when they must fulfill it. Is it a mark of a good diplomat to use “haughty” words in making a request? And what about what follows Thingol’s refusal?

Therefore [Thingol] sent back the messengers with scornful words. Maedhros made no answer, for he had now begun to devise the league and union of the Elves; but Celegorm and Curufin vowed openly to slay Thingol and destroy his people, if they came victorious from war, and the jewel were not surrendered of free will. The Silmarillion, “Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad”

What do you mean, “made no answer”? The narrator explains this away by saying essentially that Maedhros was too busy to bother, but is it the most diplomatic to just… stop communicating with the king who had the Silmaril, and whose support would really be quite nice to have in the upcoming war? And what about Celegorm and Curufin’s decidedly undiplomatic threat? Long gone are the days of effective brother-wrangling, apparently. (So far gone, in fact, that by the time Celegorm carries through on his threat and the sons of Feanor attack Doriath, Maedhros seems to have deferred to Celegorm’s leadership.)

The oath is again blamed for Maedhros’ change of course regarding the Silmaril at the Havens of Sirion. Having initially “withheld his hand”:

… the knowledge of their oath unfulfilled returned to torment [Maedhros] and his brothers, and gathering from their wandering hunting-paths they sent messages to the Havens of friendship and yet of stern demand. The Silmarillion, “Of the Voyage of Eärendil and the War of Wrath”

As with the “haughty words” to Thingol, was “stern demand” the most diplomatic approach? Would better diplomacy have made a difference? Well, maybe. I don’t think the discussion between Maedhros and Maglor was inserted into the narrative without thematic purpose — and one of those purposes is, I think, to reveal the slippery space of conflict between obligation and choice; between that which must be done and how it’s done; between the morality of keeping one’s word and the morality of doing the right thing.

Does the oath itself turn an otherwise mild and affable Maedhros into someone haughty and stern? Or are those flaws he already had and which are brought to the fore by the constraint of the oath? Well, examine the evidence for yourself — and allow the imagination to roam.

Final assessment: Maedhros is a good diplomat, certainly compared to his closest kinsmen. But just like Maedhros isn’t the tallest (no, really, he’s not — but that’s another excavation), he’s perhaps also not the best diplomat on the political stage of First Age Beleriand.

[1] If we go beyond the published Silmarillion to the “Shibboleth of Fëanor” (in History of Middle-earth Vol. 12: The Peoples of Middle-earth), we learn that he was a red-head and apparently “well-shaped.” For an author who is notoriously sparse with physical description, Tolkien did seem to have a lot of ideas about what Maedhros looked liked!

Addendum: Maedhros the Scholar

“Diplomat and Scholar” do seem to go hand-in-hand in the fandom’s most popular versions of Maedhros, but I focused on the former for this Ask because there really isn’t much in canon to directly support Maedhros’ skill as a scholar.

The Noldor, as a culture, are loremasters. Fëanor, Maedhros’ father, was one of the most notable of these loremasters, even credited with founding the school of Lambengolmor, Loremasters of Tongues ( in the essay Quendi and Eldar in The History of Middle-earth Vol. 11: The War of the Jewels).

But, when Tolkien gives examples of elven loremasters, who, he says, were also “the greatest kings, princes and warriors,” he names Fëanor, Finrod, the lords of Gondolin, and Orodreth. No mention of Maedhros. And, when discussing which sons of Fëanor took an interest in language, he mentions not the eldest, but Maglor and Curufin. (Both in The Shibboleth of Fëanor.)

So there’s nothing in canon to suggest that Maedhros wasn’t a scholarly type, but it’s not something he’s noted for. His most remarkable trait remains “tall”.

#maedhros #silm meta #the silmarillion #history of middle-earth #1937 quenta silmarillion #melestasflight

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raisedbythetv89 · 2 months

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IM ILL 😭😭😭😭

She knows this will hurt him. She knows this will make him feel betrayed. She hates that she has to do this to him because she knows he’s not the monster he pretends to be but he’s still not the person he needs to be in order for them to be together.

A cornerstone of Rey’s personality is she doesn’t give up, no matter how hopeless something seems so to be giving up on her other half and leaving him with the first order is heartbreaking for her. She’s not only devastated at the loss of Ben Solo, her other half, but for what she knows this will do to him and that he will view this as a betrayal.

And we can see so clearly what it does to him written all over his face 😭 he’s so hurt and confused, he thought there was no way she wouldn’t see things his way and that she knew they belonged together no matter what so he can’t believe she’s fighting to get away from him again and just UGGGHHHH

And how initially he is FURIOUS, firing on the falcon all his big talk of destroying her, and luke and everything while she is initially just so sad this is the way things have gone but by the time we get into TROS Rey’s sadness and disappointment turns into RAGE and she is furious with him for keeping them apart and not coming back to the resistance with her.

GUH 😭 when she lays eyes on him again at the end of TLJ we see her take a few deep breaths and he looks hopeful when she does it meaning he can feel her sadness, her regret, her pain, her resolve waiver for just a moment before she puts on this mask of indifference and just looks SO disappointed in him.

While for him, once his anger burns out and he sees her again he’s just utterly devastated and filled with regret and you can see he’s disappointed with himself too 😭

The chemistry and acting talent of these two is insane but the experience of what it’s like to fall in love with someone who’s not ready to love you and how painful it is to walk away from that person when you realize it is captured so beautifully and so devastatingly I’m so heartsick about it 😭

#reylo #reylo meta #meta #rey skywalker #ben solo

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thewriteadviceforwriters · 5 months

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Character Development in Different Genres: Tailoring Personalities to Fit Your Story's Needs | Part I of Character Development Series

When it comes to writing, one of the most exciting and challenging aspects is creating compelling characters. Whether you're penning a thrilling mystery, a heartwarming romance, a gripping fantasy, or a thought-provoking literary novel, the characters you bring to life play a pivotal role in captivating your readers. However, not all characters are created equal, and tailoring their personalities to fit the specific requirements of your chosen genre is essential for a successful and engaging story.

So, how can you ensure that your characters shine in the context of their genre? Let's embark on an insightful journey into the art of character development across different literary landscapes.

The Foundation of Genre-Specific Characters

Before delving into the intricacies of character development, it's crucial to understand that each genre comes with its own set of expectations and conventions. While a hard-boiled detective might thrive in a gritty crime thriller, they might feel out of place in a whimsical fantasy world. Therefore, the first step in crafting genre-specific characters is immersing yourself in the nuances and tone of the genre itself.

For instance, in a fast-paced action-adventure novel, the protagonist is often characterized by their resourcefulness, courage, and determination in the face of danger. On the other hand, a character in a cozy mystery may possess a keen eye for detail, a sharp wit, and a knack for uncovering secrets amidst the charm of a small town. By understanding the core elements of the genre, you can lay a sturdy foundation for building characters that resonate with the expectations of your readers.

Investigating Character Traits Across Genres

Let's take a closer look at how character traits can be tailored to suit different genres:

1. Adventure/Thriller:

Courage and Resilience: Characters in this genre often face high-stakes challenges and adrenaline-pumping situations. Their ability to confront danger with courage and resilience is a defining trait.

Quick Thinking: Whether escaping a treacherous trap or outsmarting a cunning adversary, characters in adventure and thriller novels are often marked by their ability to think on their feet.

2. Romance:

Emotional Depth: Characters in romance novels thrive on emotional connections. Their vulnerabilities, hopes, and desires form the cornerstone of their personality.

Charm and Passion: A touch of charisma and passion can elevate romantic protagonists, making them irresistible to both their love interests and readers.

3. Fantasy:

Imagination and Wonder: In the realms of fantasy, characters embody boundless imagination and a sense of wonder. Their belief in the extraordinary and the magical defines their essence.

Epic Journeys and Destinies: From chosen heroes to enigmatic wanderers, characters in fantasy often carry the weight of epic destinies and monumental quests.

4. Mystery:

Curiosity and Intellect: Mystery protagonists are marked by their insatiable curiosity and sharp intellect. Their inquisitive nature drives them to uncover the truth hidden within the enigmatic plots of their stories.

Intrigue and Suspicion: Characters in mystery novels often harbor secrets of their own, adding layers of intrigue and suspicion to their personas.

Crafting Characters with Genre-Specific Flair

Now that we've glimpsed into the distinctive traits that define characters across genres, it's time to infuse our characters with that genre-specific flair. Here are some creative strategies to tailor your characters to fit the unique demands of different genres:

1. Know Your Readers:

Before sculpting your characters, get to know your intended audience. Understanding their expectations and preferences within a particular genre can guide your character development process.

2. Subverting Tropes:

While adhering to genre conventions is important, don't shy away from subverting tropes to inject fresh and unexpected elements into your characters. This can breathe new life into well-trodden genres.

3. Embracing Authenticity:

No matter the genre, authentic and relatable characters are the cornerstone of captivating storytelling. Infuse your characters with genuine emotions and experiences that resonate with your readers.

4. Reflecting the Setting:

Characters are not isolated entities; they are shaped by the worlds they inhabit. Reflect the essence of the genre's setting in your characters' mannerisms, speech, and worldview.

5. Dynamic Character Arcs:

Consider how your characters' arcs can align with the thematic essence of the genre. From personal growth in literary fiction to valiant heroism in fantasy, tailor their journeys to harmonize with the genre's spirit.

The Power of Balancing Familiarity and Innovation

While it's essential to cater to the expectations of your chosen genre, it's equally vital to infuse your characters with a spark of innovation. Readers are drawn to characters who feel both familiar and refreshingly unique. By blending genre-specific traits with innovative twists, you can create characters that stand out while remaining rooted in the essence of their genre.

Unleashing Genre-Defying Characters

In the ever-expanding universe of literature, the art of character development is a dynamic and thrilling endeavor. As you embark on the journey of crafting characters for different genres, remember to immerse yourself in the heart of each genre, cultivate characters with depth and resonance, and balance convention with innovation.

Ultimately, the characters you create have the potential to transcend genres, captivating readers across a diverse spectrum of storytelling. So, unleash your imagination, breathe life into your characters, and watch as they navigate the rich tapestries of diverse genres, leaving an indelible mark on the literary landscape.

So, fellow writers, as you embark on your next literary odyssey, may your characters be as diverse as the genres they inhabit, and may their stories resonate with readers far and wide.

Happy writing! Warm regards, Ren T.

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if-you-fan-a-fire · 10 months

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"Cérémonie de la pose de la pierre angulaire de l'hôpital S.-Mary," La Presse. June 19, 1933. Page 12. --- Photographies prises samedi matin lors de la cérémonie de la pose de la pierre angulaire du nouvel hôpital S-Mary, situé à l'angle du chemin de la Côte-des-Neiges et de l’avenue Lacombe. La photographie de haut représente Son Excellence Mgr Georges Gauthier parlant au microphone avant de bénir la pierre. A sa droite, on remarque M. Jules Derome, du poste CKAC. Dans la photographie du bas, on voit quelquesuns des nombreux dignitaires qui assistaient à la cérémonie. De gauche à droite: Son Honneur le maire Fernand Rinfret; Lord Bessborough, gouverneur-général du Canada; T. Taggart-Smyth, président du conseil de direction de l'hôpital; Son Excellence Mgr Gauthier et l'abbé Romuald Chayer, secrétaire de Son Excellence. (Clichés la "Presse").

#montreal #new hospital #hôpital saint-mary #cornerstone laying #opening ceremony #cote des neiges #governor general of canada #lord bessborough #bishop of montreal #roman catholic church #great depression in canada #history of canadian health care

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enhahooninurwindow · 1 month

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Lingering Love

Pairing: Sunghoon x reader 🍓MASTERLIST

Genre: angst, fluff

Wc: 688 (?)

Syn: It had been eight long months since Sunghoon and you parted ways, your hearts heavy with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. But as they say, time heals and healed ur pain bringing love again

It had been eight long months since Sunghoon and you parted ways, your hearts heavy with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. The breakup had been tumultuous, fueled by misunderstandings and miscommunications that left you both wounded and longing for each other's presence. You, in a fit of doubt and fear, had accused Sunghoon of cheating, a claim that tore at the very fabric of your once-strong bond. As the months passed, the pain lingered, but so did the love. Sunghoon found himself staring at his phone, fingers hovering over the keys, longing to reach out to you but held back by pride and uncertainty. Meanwhile, you often found yourself lost in memories of your time together, the laughter, the shared dreams, and the warmth of his embrace. One quiet evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the world settled into a hushed calm, he gathered his courage and typed out a message to you. It was a simple "Hey, how have you been?" but behind those words lay a universe of emotions waiting to be unraveled. You, startled by the notification, stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity. The memories flooded back, the good and the bad intertwined in a bittersweet tapestry of nostalgia. After a few moments of hesitation, you replied, tentatively at first, but soon the floodgates opened, and you found yourselves pouring out thoughts, feelings, and apologies.

The conversation flowed like a river finding its course after being dammed for too long. You talked about everything— the hurt you had caused each other, the doubts that had plagued your minds, and most importantly, the love that still burned brightly despite the distance and time apart. As the days turned into weeks, your virtual exchanges deepened. You shared your daily routines, your dreams for the future, and the lessons you had learned during your time apart. He apologized sincerely for any actions or words that had hurt you, and in turn you acknowledged your own role in the misunderstandings that led to the breakup. Slowly but surely, trust began to rebuild its fragile bridge between you. He made a conscious effort to be transparent about his life, sharing his thoughts and feelings openly with you. Likewise, you learned to let go of the past grievances, choosing forgiveness and understanding over resentment.

One evening, as you spoke about your favorite memories together, he took a leap of faith and confessed, "I never stopped loving you, Y/N. Not for a single day." The words hung in the air, heavy with vulnerability and hope. Your heart skipped a beat as tears welled up in your eyes. "I still love you too, Sunghoon," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. With those simple yet profound words, the barriers crumbled, and you knew that your love was not a thing of the past but a flame waiting to be reignited. You decided to meet in person, to look into each other's eyes and find solace in the warmth of his embrace. The reunion was nothing short of magical. As you stood face to face, all the pain and sorrow melted away, leaving behind only love and a deep sense of belonging. You laughed, you cried, and you held each other tightly, as if afraid that the moment would slip away like a fleeting dream. From that day forward, you embarked on a journey of rediscovery and rebuilding. You took things slow, savoring each moment and cherishing the newfound appreciation for what you had. Communication became your cornerstone, honesty your compass, and love your guiding light. Your story was not without challenges, for scars of the past don't vanish overnight. But you faced those challenges together, hand in hand, knowing that as long as you had each other, you could weather any storm. Years later, when you looked back on that fateful reconnection, you smiled knowingly, grateful for the twists and turns that had led you back to each other. For you both, breaking up had been a painful detour, but it had also been the catalyst for a love stronger and more resilient than ever before.

#enhahooninurwindow #enhypen fluff #enhypen reactions #enhypen x reader #enhypen #enha imagines #enha x reader #park sunghoon #sunghoon #sunghoon angst #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fluff #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen angst #sunghoon x you #sunghoon x y/n

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anon-e-miss · 26 days

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Touch of Sight - 11

A Cornerstone’s bells rang out calling the faithful to worship. Prowl lay on his belly, face buried in his pillow and listened to them ring. There was no mistaking the call of lesser temples for that of a Cornerstone. Minor temples had only a single bell in their bell towers, where Cornerstones had three octaves at least of bells that were not rung haphazardly, but in a score written by some ancient temple musician. He should not have been able to hear them at all, tucked away as he was in the market. Might the wind be blowing in just the right directions? With the haze of recharge still thick in his helm, Prowl listened. It was odd, he had never heard a Cornerstone’s call so clear and yet they sounded one dimensional, flat. There was something missing. Prowl stretched out his doorwings to “hear” a little better, only to realize he could not “hear”, could not “feel”, could not feel his doorwings, could not move them at all. He was blind, truly, completely blind. Imm. His audials heard his strangled cry as he tried to push himself up, digits clawing at the berth under him. He tried to reach behind himself but Prowl was not strong enough to hold him even partly upright.. His whole frame ached and his arms trembled. His voice was hoarse as he keened. A gloved servo brushed his helm and Prowl collapsed back down on the berth, the keen fading into a weak sob.

“Shh,” it was Jazz. Prowl felt the berth sag as Jazz sat on the edge. Prowl could almost feel tears wet his face, but he had no optics. He had no tears. Jazz’s gloved servo left his helm and covered Prowl servo. It took a long time before Prowl realized Jazz was writing glyphs against the back of his servo, only then did the panic roar fade in his help enough that Prowl could actually hear and understand. “Y’re okay. Y’re doors got burned in the fire. Ratch, my medic friend’s lookin’ after ya. He turned off yer relays so ya don’t gotta feel as yer sensors heal.”

“Fire...” Prowl frowned as his whispered the glyph, surprised by how hoarse his voice sounded and how raw his voice felt. He remembered. The madmech, he had set fire to the apartment, set to killed them all, to kill him, the mech he had declared a demon. “My mechlings?”

“Are perfect,” Jazz promised and Prowl prayed he was true. “A bit o’ smoke was all they got, Ratch made sure their intakes are good. Got’em in class. Ori thought it was important for’em to have a lil normalcy.”

“Where am I?” Prowl asked. His sentio-metallico still prickled with anxiety as the panic ebbed. He was blind, wholly blind but he was not alone. Still, his spark continued to race. How was he supposed to live on like this? How was he meant to care for his creations?

“The Celestial Temple,” Jazz replied. Prowl felt the scarred sentio-metallico of his face strain to stretch as he raised his brow ridge with surprise.

“Why?” He asked. His spark pulsed out of control and he trembled with fear. Had Smokescreen said something? Had they discovered who they were, who they had been? The Celestial Temple was not just a Cornerstone, it was the Prime’s residence. Why would paupers be brought here for medical treatment?

“It’s sorta Ratch’s home base,” Jazz replied. “He runs other clinics but his apothecary is here. My home base too. Seemed like the best place to put ya were ya could be safe.”

“There is no more danger,” Prowl replied. He rested his helm on the pillow. How had he ever mistaken it for his own? It was far too luxurious and its cover too soft against his scarred sentio-metallico. “The voices haunting that mech told him to jump into the flames.”

“Sounds like ya feel a lil sorry for ‘m,” Jazz said.

“His processor was broken,” Prowl replied. He was tired. He had only just woken up but he was so tired. “He genuinely thought I was a demon. He genuinely thought Primus and the angels were telling him to cleanse me. He never should have been let out of the sanitarium. Let me guess, they deployed mnemosurgery, erasing the voices from his memory and declared him fit?”

“That’s right,” Jazz replied. “How’d ya guess?”

“Because that is what they do,” Prowl said. “They address the symptom without searching for the cause.”

“Sounds like ya got some history with mneumosurgeons,” Jazz replied.

“I have a processor glitch,” Prowl explained. “Every time I would crash, they would erase the thought or feeling they thought triggered it. It took until I was a mech grown and could refuse the mneumosurgeons that I was actually able to learn to manage my affliction. I do not know what would have helped that mech, but I know mneumosurgery was not it.”

“Y’re a wise mech,” Jazz replied.

“Mm,” Prowl hummed. He turned his servo around around to touch Jazz’s palm. It was not gloves Jazz was wearing. His servo was covered it gauze. “What happenened?”

“Servos go burned climbin’ the buildin’,” Jazz explained.

“You were hurt saving us,” Prowl said, feeling a mix of gratitude and guilt. “Punch... he tried. The sheets I tied, they tore. He said he was going to try the stairs.”

“He did, they’d collapsed, he didn’t think he could make the jump,” Jazz replied. “If I hadn’t gotten there when I did, I think he woulda gone back in ‘n risked it anyways. Y’re bitlets are worth it. So are ya.”

“I am sorry you were hurt,” Prowl said. “I am sorry Punch was in danger because of us.”

“It was nothin’ ya did,” Jazz told him. “I’m just glad Swindle put more into that place than I thought. Fire didn’t spread near as fast as it coulda and when the floor collapsed, the walls still held.”

“I think he invested in the struts of that building and not the facade,” Prowl replied. “If he had done the latter, he could have charged more for the habsuites and no one would have thought any of it.”

“He did good,” Jazz said. “‘N I told’m that. He was there, when the fire was goin’. Helped me wit yer mechlings. He’s terrified o’ poverty. ‘N I understand why, since we come from the same corner o’ the Pit. Sometimes he makes bad choices but he’s a decent mech o’erall.”

“Are you bothering my patient?” A new voice, rumbled. Prowl flinched. He had never been easy to sneak up on. It had become even harder since he had been blinded, when his doorwings had taken the place of his optics. Was this how he was to live for the rest of his life? It felt unbearable.

“Smokey wasn’t bout to leave’m alone, ‘n rightly so,” Jazz replied. He did not sound as if he felt any fear towards this new mech. “I stepped out for half a klik to speak to Hide ‘n he was awake ‘n right terrified.”

“Fine... what did I tell you about using your servos?” The medic asked.

“They’re fine,” Jazz replied. “Ain’t putting pressure on’em or nothin’.”

“I have no faith in you,” the medic said. “I know better.”

“Ya wound me, Ratch,” Jazz replied, with a chuckle in his voice. “Ratchet’s the best medic on Cybertron, Prowl. He’ll want me outta the way to look at yer doors. Mind if I sit at yer peds.”

“If you have business to attend to, do not delay it on my behalf,” Prowl said.

“I got nothin’ goin’ on,” Jazz said. “Even if I did, it wouldn’t be more important than this.”

Prowl could not help but believe him and it was a strange. He should have been nothing but a potential new minion to this mech and yet, Jazz had brought him and his creations home to his originator, not just for a meal but for friendship and... for Punch’s approval. Rather than discourage any attachment from Punch, his originator, Jazz seemed to encourage it and... Smokescreen glyphs echoed in Prowl’s memory banks. Though he had denied it to his creation, the observation felt like a peculiar truth. When Jazz had all but danced with him in the field, there had been pleasure and warmth in his field. It made no sense. Prowl was not a beauty. He had been... simply unremarkable before the blinding where Nightstalker had been the beauty. Their procreators had called him the Jewel of Praxus. Prowl, he had been an udder disappointment. How could Jazz look had him now, with a mottled face with two empty pits and feel anything like attraction? Pity did not explain it. Heavy pedsteps signalled the medic’s approached as Jazz moved to sit at Prowl’s peds.

“I’m Ratchet, Prowl,” the medic formally introduced himself. “I’m sure the miscreant told you but both your mechlings are in good physical health. It’ll take them some time to process the fear and trauma. I think they were both brought back to the Cataclysm, especially your little one.”

“What do I do for them?” Prowl asked.

“What you’ve always done,” Ratchet replied. “Love them and listen to them. It’s done wonders.”

“I have not been able to help Bluestreak find his voice,” Prowl countered.

“Traumatic mutism is difficult for anyone to treat,” Ratchet said. “You gave him a voice with chirolinguistics. You’ve done more than a lot of medics would think to with that alone. You haven’t focused on his spoken voice. You empower him by adapting to his needs.”

“Ya done right by them,” Jazz told him.

“I’m going to change your bandages,” Ratchet said. “Despite your sensory grid being offline, you may still feel pain.”

“I understand,” Prowl said. He remember the agony when the farm’s creation cleaned his infected burns and applied dressings. Every dressings change had been a renewal of that agony, pain that had been worse than the original burn.

There was a throbbing pain across his back as Ratchet pealed away the bandages. It was unpleasant yes but nothing compared to what he had already endured. Jazz would be suffering far more with his treatments and Prowl felt guilty. He was relieved as Ratchet disposed of the used dressings, he smelled medicinal ointment, not festering metal. The odor of his facial burns had been a terrible thing and something he still smelled in his memory-purges. It felt more like an itch he could not place, that bounced all over his frame. Jazz brushed his bandaged sevo over Prowl’s ankle and it was grounding. Prowl smelled the ointment Ratchet took out to apply to his burns and distracted himself in separating the smells and narrowing down what crystals he believed had been used in the blend.

“It’s looking good,” Ratchet told him. “No infection. Luckily, you only suffered partial thickness burns. Most of your doorwing sensors should heal to within normal parameters. You may have some holes in your perception but your processor will fill those in so you don’t even notice.”

“That is a relief,” Prowl sighed. “I could not imagine how I would live completely blind.”

“Ya woulda found a way,” Jazz reassured him. “For the mechlings.”

“Thank you,” Prowl said.

“Are you hungry at all?” Ratchet asked.

“A little,” he replied.

“Good,” Ratchet said. “Punch took it upon himself to make a melon soup. He thought you’d be up this cycle.”

“Ori’s got good instincts,” Jazz declared. “Not feelin’ too banged up?”

“I am fine,” Prowl asked. “Sore. Just sore and tired.”

“Ya fell through the floor,” Jazz explained his concern. “Maybe it was a good think the smoke already had ya in stasis ‘cause ya was relaxed when ya fell ‘n that helped ya not too get too hurt.”

“I do not remember that at all,” Prowl said. “The last thing I remember is giving Bluesatreak to you.”

“Probably not a bad thing to forget,” Jazz said. “Important thing is ya made it out.”

#valveplug #maccadams #tf prowl #tf jazz #anon-e-miss writes #mechpreg #tf punch #a touch of sight

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