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searchingforserendipity25 · 3 months

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The Eagle's Share

Tw: hunting and animal sacrifice.

Inspired by the incredible Fingon&Eagles relationship in Not In Vain by @polutrope!

In Barad Eithel celebrations were held in the middle of every bitter winter, a proud chasing away of the bitter frost Fingolfin's people so loathed.

There were dances, sparring games, and great hunts. Lalwen lead a masking ritual, a time of portents and heady magics; Fingolfin-king poured the mead and the wine, and passed to every cupped palm their due bold of miruvor he had brewed all summer, to each were given their due words of praise and courage.

He spoke and shone as once he had amidst the spluttering fires, a small animal in the Darkening calling to himself a hard, a pack to weather the long night within greater warmth.

Well-loved he was, Fingolfin of the Noldor; to him none were truer than the eldest of his sons, whose bowl was ever poured last, that it should be known the king favoured not his own blood unduly.

But Fingon went by himself, on the darkest nights before the lengthening of the days: and did not return until he had slain a great elk-of-the-woods, or a mad-eyed bear mother, and left the upon the highest peak for the eagles and falcons and ravens to feast upon.

Afterwards he joined the feasting, singing and harping as he went, at that hour when a grey light started to gleam dully to the East; and the music changed, the drums quickened into lighter reels, treacherous leaping staff-on-staff dances. He wore ribbons of goldcloth embroidered with copper in his hair, and about his neck necklaces with eagle feathers - long and sleek and just as golden.

The Great Eagles came not among the Eldar then, but to involve themselves in rare and dire matters; but some of them begot lesser creatures among their wild kin, and it was from such a strain that Fingon raised, and tended, and trained many a generation of bold hunting kestrels, amber-eyed falcons - even some rare grave and little-tamed eagles.

In the back of his aiming hand he inked an eagle, wings spread and proud. It had been the way of mourning in the Ice, when one died, and the body could not be buried; Fingolfin's grave never was seen by Fingolfin's heir.

Still the blood-price must be paid. Fingon went, and brought down his greatest beast yet, a woollen mammoth thick enough to feed a company for the march.

He left it to the wise birds of the realm. The blood gleamed red and slick on the snow, the viscera steaming enough to make his mouth water. As ever he gave them his thanks, begged their pity, praised the glory of their free flight, their hungering defiance, even as Morgoth made foul and weak so much of the land and the land's beasts.

Alone under the judging stars he wept, as he had not yet; a great grief was on him, and a will for revenge. Above all he denied Morgoth's design, that would wipe clean the skies and the earth, till all creatures were his servants, and no honor or memory of good deeds remained alive.

The birds came to feed. They fought among themselves at times, as was their way; yet they were solemn in their devouring, determined as they bit the meat out of the bone and bared it.

Their many eyes were in the night of nights a light of their own, ancient; and their cawing and their calling was insistent, even after all had fed - insistent for blood and vengeance, fierce and fierce enough to tear the silence in many halves. It made the white hills and the high firs tremble with urgency; Fingon's voice too rose, at last, and joined their defiance.

In the dark before a slow dawn rose, he started making ready for war.

The feasting changed with Fingolfin's end, ever less a celebration, more the smothering thrill that gathered, storm-like, in the hearts of the Eldar before a battle. His vassals came more often and from further, to deepen their counsels of war under the guise of a common visit, the trading of winter-gifts made anew into a deep renewal of vows.

Through great gates they went, marveling at the strength and beauty of the fortifications of the Noldor, and in the king's great chamber they bent over his left hand in greeting, that Fingon might clasp their necks and touch their cheeks in welcome.

But Maedhros of Himring alone kneeled at his feet and kissed the tattoo through the king's hawking gloves, his own cleaved right arm pressed against his heart.

So it was in Barad Eithel, that valiant realm, before the walls were broken, when the wild wings of Beleriand were revered.

#fingon #maedhros #fingolfin #silm fic #tolkien #silmarillion #eagles of manwe #my fics

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wellthebardsdead · 6 months

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Evalien: *standing in what’s left of the heart chamber of red mountain, smiling as the soul of lorkhan is ripped from her body and the eyes of the falmer from her own* I see you there before me… I’ve done the dance upon the mountain where the heart of creation was buried when the sea ran high. I’ve seen the face of the true dreamer and kissed their brow as they slept for im not of this world though I love it with all my heart. You know what I seek great serpent. What I long for is far beyond the whale bone of your world.

Lorkhan: *writhing and twisting magma to shape his new form as the melted daedric artefacts form his blood and the earth his skin while the metal of the brass tower becomes his bones, his new form shuddering as he absorbs back what was sundered from him long ago, long before man, mer, or beast walked nirn and even longer before it was named Lig* You long for your life beyond this realm. You wish for me to grant you that in return for what you’ve restored to me?

Evalien: I did once… I don’t know who brought me here, but if someone brought me beyond my realm then there must be a way back within my reach. You know as good as I that I’ve achieved chim and walk now not as mere mortal but as something more. Immortal as I am now, I am no god, and I do not wish for people to worship me as one. I will find my way home on my own some day. No. I wish for something more.

Lorkhan: what is it you seek? plane walker.

*meanwhile*

Vivienne: *sobbing as he shakes Vivec’s corpse, the other elfs body crumbling to ash* NO DONT GO! PLEASE DONT LEAVE ME! DONT LEAVE ME!!!

Wyrm: *sitting amidst the ash as team dragonborn scramble to try and save Eva from the mountain* he made me for this?… I was a tool all along…

*BOOM!!!*

Team dragonborn: *all stagger back as a shockwave rings out from the mountain and lorkhan steps forth from its crust, his form twisting and warping before taking shape as a gigantic serpent and slithering to the sky, his heart thrumming loudly like a drum, a chorus to quake time itself and bring forth the new kalpa*

Kaidan: What the fuck was tha- *falls silent watching as hundreds, thousands of figures appear before him, dwarves of all sizes and shapes being freed from their captivity to the heart, all of them sobbing, crying, weeping. Kissing the earth and screaming in joy, in sadness, anger. And all of them suddenly rising in unison to stare down one. Kagrenac*

Kagrenac: I-… *steps back holding their head as they hear the immense hostility in the chorus of their kin* I can explain! It was a miscalculation! Nerevar would have destroyed my work with me if I d- no- NO!!!! *screams as they’re suddenly swarmed by the other dwemer and torn to pieces*

Wyrm: *shakily stands and runs to the them, desperately pulling at anyone who he can get a hold of with his one arm* N-no! Stop! Please!!! I need answers! I need-

*BOOM!!!*

Everyone: *ducks for cover as a new heartbeat rings out, louder, and stronger than lorkhans*

The dwemer: *all suddenly duck, cowering and bowing, muttering prayers of forgiveness to the resounding shockwave across the land, as if they can hear something the others cant*

Nerevar: She… she actually did it… *looks up to what’s left of the mountain before staggering back as the ash beneath his feet rises up, shifting and warping, making the shape of a familiar chimer he’d fallen in love with long, long ago* …Voryn?… *watches the ash crack and shift away showing a youthful, golden skinned, red eyed Voryn Dagoth beneath its crust*

Voryn: *whimpers as he breathes in his first breaths in so long* n-neht? *blinks all three eyes with tearful irritation as soot, Ash and sand fall into them* my nerevar? My moon and star is that you?…

Evalien: *suddenly lowers down from the mountain, the faceplate of her mask swirling and shifting beyond her crown with a thousand faces and the scales behind her giant chakram of the lion, dragon and eagle, before settling onto one face, her face, as the hundreds of hands grasping the wheel of her blade return to just two, she opens her eyes, and smiles* …Fucking hell im starving. Anyone got some food?!

#Evalien dragonborn #Wyrm dragonborn #vivienne dragonborn #nerevar #voryn dagoth

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melestasflight · 1 year

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For the Silmarillion ask game: This may be a repeat, apologies if it is.

🗡️ Defend your favorite war criminal (or make them worse - I'm not your mom).

🔮You can reach into the Beyond and ask the Professor to settle one (1) debate for you. He won't even waffle on the answer, honest. What do you ask him?

Thanks for the ask @antares0606!

🗡️ takes a deep breath, ok here we go: Fingon, for the worse!

I love Fingon to death, he was my favorite character when I first read the Silm and remains as such after all these years. He is my High King of the Noldor, I would follow him to the Nirnaeth Arnoediad.

But! He is flawed in a way fandom often underplays honestly. Let us start with Alqualondë. It is not only that he rushed in, not stopping to learn what is going on, it is that he killed the kin of his best friends!

... and with Fingon stood as they ever did Angrod and Aegnor, sons of Finarfin.

... [the sons of Finarfin] were as close in friendship with the sons of Fingolfin as though they were all brothers.

Yes! And then, Fingon goes all savage against their mother's people. I cannot fathom how they manage to find a way back to each other after that.

To go on, as much as I can never get enough of Maedhros' rescue and howl like a whale every time I reread it, I must recognize that Fingon the Golden Prince of the Noldor, the one who urged them on across the Helcaraxë, ditches all and goes to Thangorodrim. Without telling anyone! To reunite the Noldor? Perhaps, or maybe because of his own personal motives. He does seem to side with Maedhros even to his own detriment. There's more, but I'll stop here before I loose it.

All of it to say, yes, I make Fingon way worse. It is these flaws that make him a compelling character to me. He is a murderer, a ruthless war Lord who drives hordes of Orcs into the Sea and chases dragons across Ard-Galen, but he is also a loyal friend (loyal to a ridiculous degree), a friend to Men, he is generous, selfless, an inspiring leader, a good son, a hero. And these contrasts add so much depth to him that gives me so much thrill to think about again and again and I think I'll never tire of it.

🔮 Huh, so many questions, the Professor would never hear the end of it. But here's one and we come to Fingon again: Thorondor. Why help Fingon? Is this Manwë's will? Is the Eagle acting independently? Doesn't it go against the Doom of the Valar? Please, sir, tell me: are the eagles the hope I should latch on? The thing with feathers? Or are they just a narrative tool to crush my soul all the more at the end?

Ask game prompts

#thanks for the ask!#asks #I got real emotional writing this #fingon #maedhros #thorondor #aegnor #angrod

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harpagornis · 1 year

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Enantiornithean Earth

Yungavolucris and Halimornis by midiaou and xenopleurodon respectively. Both are real life Cretaceous taxa, showing that these birds were already diversifying into aquatic ecologies.

Enantiornithes are a group of extinct flying theropod dinosaurs that you could reasonably call birds, being the sister group of Euornithes (the group that includes modern birds). However, they differ from our birds in a variety of ways (their name literally means “opposite birds” for a reason):

Several skeletal details, including a tarsometatarsus that is either unfused or half-fused (beginning at the top rather than at the bottom, the opposite than in modern birds), an articulation of the scapula and coracoid that is oppositely shaped (hence the name; the coracoid joint is convex and the scapula joint is concave shaped in enantiornitheans, while the opposite happens in modern birds), a shallower sternum keel with bizarre antler-like projections (which, combined with large crests in their humerus, suggests the muscles lifting the wing were attached to the back as in bats and pterosaurs, rather than all flight muscles being attached to the keel as in modern birds), and a large, rod-shaped pygostyle (which will be relevant later).

Usually toothed jaws instead of beaks, though some taxa did become toothless. Even then, these weren’t capable of cranial kinesis like modern birds (i.e. watch a duck or your pet parrot yawn and you can see them moving their upper jaw; enantiornitheanss are many things but they’re not that abominatory).

All known taxa thus far seem to have been superprecocial: ample sites show buried eggs like those of megapodes, and the hatchlings were already fully flight capable soon after birth.

Unlike modern birds, enantiornitheans lacked a tail fan. They either had contour feathers on their butt like in the rest of the body or had long, streamer-like display feathers, also found in other Cretaceous bird groups but not in modern birds. Some species did have retrices, but they were arranged along the rod-like pygostyle and were not a movable fan, so essentially they were a variation of the tail fronds seen in Archaeopteryx and kin. Note that this did not make flight harder; even modern birds can fly reasonably well without a tail.

Why the opposite birds died out at the end of the Mesozoic while ours survived is unclear. Often, a bias towards arboreal niches is cited, as many enantiornitheans were in fact arboreal, but as the examples above show they also occured in marine and terrestrial niches alongside the ancestors of modern birds. Another possibility is their supreprecocial habits, meaning a more complex ecology as the birds matured since they were already functionally independent since birth, and this did hinder reptiles like lizards so the answer might lay there.

Or, most likely, it was just dumb luck.

Anyways:

Senmuruy hvare by Dave García. A four meter wingspan predator vaguely analogous to the golden eagle and cinnereous vulture, soaring across the northern hemisphere for corpses to dig its long snout into or live mammals and birds to sink its talons into.

Many Cretaceous enantiornitheans were already suspected of being raptorial, so it is only natural that, once pterosaurs were gone, they’d increase in size. Some reach wingspans of fiver meters, but most are more moderately sized at 1.5-3 meter adult wingspans. Smaller sizes are handled by the young, which like all enantiornithes can already fly since birth and occupy distinct ecological niches. Most species protect the nest and moderate its temperature like our megapodes, and a few even display mild parental care, allowing the young to remain in the vicinity until they’re large enough to be competition.

Euodontopteryx anatosuchus, a six-meter wingspan pelagic soarer that occurs in tropical and temperate waters, using its massive wings to ride on thermals like frigatebirds while landing to feed like albatrosses. Males sport streamer-like display feathers. By Dave García.

As noted above, some Cretaceous enantiornitheans were already aquatic, so this trend continued. Some species became divers, mostly wing propelled and some even flightless like our penguins, while others inversely invested in supreme gliding abilities, able to either ride thermals like frigatebirds or wave winds like albatrosses.

The most impressive species are reccord beaters. Divers can be as tall as a man when on land, while soarers can reach wingspans of over 7 meters, competing with flying multituberculates for largest living flying animals. Both groups tend to have long, toothy maws, the teeth alloted into a single row rather than individual sockets; this condition is known in both extinct sea birds and reptiles as well as some living cetaceans, and is known as aulacodonty.

Ghaltavis rex, a three meter tall predator that stalks African and Asian savannas. An apex predator of its own right, an echo of the distant unrelated tyrannosaurs in the form of a bird. By Dave García.

At least one real life enantiornithean, Elsornis, appears to have been flightless. It’s descendents were quick to occupy roles previously taken by non-avian theropods, from ratite-like herbivores to formidable predators that look like the fusion of a terror bird and a tyrannosaur, using their powerful jaws to crush bone.

The relatively long enantiornithean pygostyle allowed them to balance their pelvis/femur joints (a known size inhibittor in our birds) and grow to sizes larger than our timeline’s birds, though species above a ton are fairly rare seeing as mammals got their footing as well.

Bennu seti, a filter-feeding bird from Africa, Eurasia and Australia. Like flamingos it metabolizes carotenoids, giving it an orange colouration. By Dave García.

The Cretaceous Lectavis had long legs in some aspects convergent with those of flamingos. Thus, several enantiornitheans developed wading ecologies, ironically more associated with their euornithean competitors. Some became probers, dipping their maws (or toothless beaks) into the subtrate, while others became piscivores like herons or aquatic plant specialists like some cranes and magpie geese.

Most spectacular is a filter-feeding clade, Bennuidae. These birds modified their teeth into thin, delicate strands like some Cretaceous pterosaurs, and feed by swallowing water and expelling it, trapping prey in the teeth and keratinous spikes in the tongue. Having the nostrils still at the end of the snout, these birds usually feed in a different position from flamingos: rather than upside down, the lower jaw is submerged, in a manner similar to avocets.

Like most opposite birds the young are superprecocial, starting as plover-like birds before transitioning into a filter feeding lifestyle months later. Though some taxa form protective creches like flamingos, though unlike them they do not feed the young.

Like many of our shorebirds, these are continuous flappers, displaying remarkable endurance as they fly non-top for days in their migrations.

#enantiornithes #enantiornithean #enatiornithine #bird #birds #dinosaur #dinosaurs #paleoblr #palaeoblr #speculative zoology #speculative evolution #speculative biology #spec evo

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citizenoftmrrwlnd · 11 months

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self care for : a golden eagle with shiny things and nice smells

x | x | x x | - | x x | x | x

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crocodyless · 1 year

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Hello! My name is Caine, welcome!

This is a side blog of mine (please don't ask for my main), focused on my personal experience with otherkinity :}

About myself, I am 18, and use He/Him and She/Her pronouns interchangably as well as Thon / Thons

I'm bisexual, bigender, and label myself as transspecies.

Organization (As of 12/24, too lazy to go back and fix most of my old posts):

#<> kin updates <> <- Rambling about any new kintypes or shifts that may occur.

#<> open your jaw <> <- Crocodile posting.

#<> taking flight <> <- Griffin posting.

#<> west. herbert west. <> <- Probably less common on this account, but Herbert West posting.

Kintypes are under the cut.

My most prominent kintypes are:

Crocodile (I consider myself a cladotherian, but I associate myself most with the saltwater crocodile)

Griffin (Specifically one with the head of a golden eagle and the body of a lion)

Herbert West (Reanimator)

Kintypes that I somewhat resonate with (or am still questioning):

Machine (Occasional flickers)

Eel (Unknown species)

#otherkin #therian #alterhuman #nonhuman #reptilekin #crocodile therian #fictionkin #otherhearted

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lhostgil · 11 months

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Further continuation to the link below - Re. Classical Greek/other relevant literature + Themes in Kurt’s Story Arc in the Krakoa era of X-Books

Link to previous set:

https://www.tumblr.com/lhostgil/720380405409251328/continuation-of-the-link-belowre-prometheus?source=share

Prometheus’ Fate in Mythology

The final mention of Prometheus in mythology, is when Heracles (the Demigod son of Zeus) seeks the Golden Apples as one of his Twelve Labours. In the process of completing that task, Heracles slaughters the eagle tormenting Prometheus and frees him from his chains. During this time, Prometheus provides Heracles with valuable insight and knowledge to complete his task of obtaining the Golden Apples. After the end of that journey, Prometheus is pardoned and allowed his freedom on a condition; he is to forever wear a shackle as a reminder of his past transgressions against the gods (siding with humanity over his god-kin). Given the absence of further appearances in subsequent myths, it is generally taken that he distanced himself from the affairs of the gods...as well as that of humans.

(He disappeared into the world, never going back to be with the god-kin or providing them advice when calamity or fate finds itself on their doorstep; and is never mentioned rendering further assistance or taking any action to provide for or shelter humanity from Fate or the whims of the gods.)

As mentioned before: the original punishment was having his liver (where the seat of emotion was believed to be) pecked out daily. It essentially, is a curse of eternal hopelessness; without emotion--without the ability to have desire or motivation-- the belief of Hope (Elpis) and its power to grant respite from suffering will not present itself. [This more or less parallels with the post Judgment Day Legion of X development arc + Sins of Sinister Nightcrawlers + Sons of X]

But in all fairness, from what can be inferred of Prometheus--perhaps the greater punishment for him, is obtaining freedom only to see the humans and the world he loved + sacrificed so much for be nothing more than slaves to Fate...and the gods.

He had taken steps to prevent slavish devotion at the expense of human life from happening; but it happened all the same, with humans thinking that if they offered more than they should--they would then win the favour of the gods, and have an easy life. Forgetting that the gods did not care about their existence beyond the sustained cycle of belief, control and power that came with mindless worship. [Just look at Exodus, Mother Righteous, and even Prof X; the final one being literally described by Storm in X-Men Red #11 to act like a God-King who treats everyone like courtiers to be called on as he likes.]

He had given to them knowledge that could and would have allowed humanity to surpass the gods; the means to defy fate and create their own destiny (a future they may call their own)...something he suffered punishment for and is not shown as regretful for doing so. But humanity indulged in fate and prophecy; eschewing the light of creativity and critical thought for “glimpses of deceitful futures” when they should have pursued knowledge and attained their own form of wisdom that would allow them to be free from the “truth” that the gods told them--that fate cannot be defied, and that they should act in accordance to it; being champions of the gods for their petty little squabbles.

[The progress and prosperity shown during the Destiny of X arc is implied to be the result of Kurt’s actions--by means of his philosophy as well as his dedication to encouraging progress amongst the people. Heck, Kurt’s attitude and behaviour towards Destiny (the precog); especially when people just take her word for it without questioning further. In Immortal X-Men 7, it’s even more obvious when he’s the only one who noticed that she had been lying the whole time for her own selfish reasons...and takes it upon himself to force her to tell him a truthful vision.]

Again, all of the above is pretty self-explanatory; and honestly, when Kurt got angry in Immortal X-Men 7...it’s not Nightcrawler that’s angry. It’s the person that is Kurt who is mad that things even had to go this far; that so much death and sacrifice had to happen...not just for him but for every single person blessed with life and must choose to die, so that a handful might be saved.

Truthfully, he should have been angry a long time ago.

But the hero that is Nightcrawler cannot be angry...can he?

He is supposed to be the optimist; the happy-go-lucky one in the midst of a dangerous battle for his life, the hopeful one who shines brightly amongst the rest. He is supposed to willingly die for a world and its people who fear and hate him...and not take it personally or think: why can I not choose to live? Why must I be the one who dies for the world, killed by my own sword of hope that is made from the myriad of dreams, wishes and hopes entrusted to me by others?

#Kurt Wagner #x men comics #x-men #nightcrawler

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motoroil-recs · 3 months

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[X / X / X] [X / 🏎️ / X] [X / X / X]

A stimboard with imagery of tetramorph cherubim, light-coloured masculine clothes, the sky, the sea, and food preparation.

Here you go, my friend! I hope this falls in line with what you were hoping to see. Thank you very much for your request!

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italiceized · 4 months

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A Court of Thorns and Roses Review

A friend of mine often says that with a good beginning and a good ending to a story, a lot of bullshit can be excused in the middle. I've often found this to be true as I've read more.

Unfortunately, A Court of Thorns and Roses only manages a halfway decent beginning and doesn't even match that at the end. It was a firmly milquetoast experience, with little good to speak of, but which constantly threatened to suddenly become good and which likely could have gotten there with a good editor and a willingness to experiment outside of its edges.

Perhaps that is too much passion for the book, it's certainly more than the author seemed to have for it. It is a mid tier 4/10 romance novel. If you're looking for something unexciting to pass the time, it's a fine read. With that said, I'm going to spend several pages ragging on the book after the read more, but if you want my overall opinion, there it is.

The Beginning

In the early pages of Thorns and Roses, we are presented with our protagonist, Feyre, as she is out hunting in the woods. She is presented to us as the breadwinner of her small family, a group of disgraced nobles consisting of her disabled father who gambled the family fortune away on a bad business venture, her older sister Nesta, a biting, haughty figure, and her other sister Elain, a spoiled child. Put a pin in those three, dear reader, as we will be back to vivisect them near the midpoint.

Feyre is presented as a strong, capable character. She is, as mentioned the breadwinner of her family, the only one of the four working to put food in their mouths and money in their hands via her hunting. Yet she also has a softer side, a love of painting that we see in small touches amongst the family cabin. Some credit is to be given to the author here, as this is very well presented to us early on as she dreams of a time she has the funds to paint. It must then be taken away when she spends several paragraphs instead explaining, in laborious detail, Feyre's love of painting and issues therein. Were I a teenager and incapable of reading that would be helpful, but as I am not it is merely droll. This will become a common theme as time goes on.

The inciting incident of the novel is Feyre coming across a doe in the woods, and more importantly a large, odd looking wolf that hunts it. She fears this to be a Fae: immortals who once ruled the entire world and enslaved humanity, until humans rose up to seize their freedom from their captors and force a treaty binding them to the north of the world, behind a Wall. She slays both beasts, using an arrow of ash wood for the wolf, which is revealed to us to be the weakness of the Fae.

She skins the beasts and returns home with her bounty, selling the pelts the next day. That night, however their home is invaded by a beast with golden fur and a wolfish head. The creature demands to knew who slew it's kin, so it can fulfill the terms of the Treaty: a life for a life (put a pin in here again, readers, I'll have more to say in the treaty later). Feyre confesses in order to spare her family, and the beast reveals it's trick, instead of killing her, it is going to whisk her away to the lands of the Fae, where she will live the rest of her life.

And so it does, ensorcelling her so she does not remember the journey, they arrive at an opulent, if empty mansion, and the beast is revealed to be a high Fae (meaning a hum a looking Fae) named Tamlin. He is handsome and mysterious, and, of course, our main love interest in the book.

Now, the eagle eyed among you may notice that our main love interest, a shape-shifting beast who rules over a giant, near empty castle, has just kidnapped our female lead to live amongst his house forever. Yes, it is giving Beauty and Beast, no, it does not do anything interesting with it.

We get several chapters of Feyre living amongst this estate and meeting what few members of Tamlin's court seem to love here still: Alis, the maid servant who serves Feyre while she is there, and Lucien, a (once again handsome) Fae who serves Tamlin as emissary. He is brash and abrasive, sarcastic and mean, and is by far the most interesting character we've met so far, besides perhaps out protagonist. This will also not last.

The middle

Now, dear readers, instead of talking to you about Feyre slowly coming to appreciate the Fae court and slowly fall in love with the male lead, I'm instead going to talk about the single greatest act of character assassination I've ever seen. Feyre is presented to us as a strong independent person. She hunts, she bread-wins for her family, and while she is something of a doormat for said family, she is still presented as an otherwise clever, dedicated character. Even once she is, and I cannot stress this enough, literally kidnapped, she fights back, refusing to eat anything for fear it would trap her there and continuously looking for a way to escape. But perhaps there was something in that food because over the course of the next several chapters, she loses that fire and spark and instead becomes yet another milquetoast female protagonist who can do nothing if not saved by the men around her. If I seem annoyed by this, it's because I am.

At one point, Feyre takes action. She hears of a Fae that must tell the truth if it is captured, and persuaded Lucien to tell her how that is done. She goes and captures it but is ambushed by a group of different Fae. She screams for help, while running and fighting, slaying three of her pursuers, but is ultimately saved by Tamlin showing up to fight them off.

Thorns and Roses is a book that keeps threatening to be good, even if it never gets there. Somewhere, lost in Maas's discarded outlines, is an excellent slow burn romance about a girl slowly falling for someone she despises, and a Fae slowly falling for his friend's killer. This is not the book we got though, as they almost immediately pivot to typical lovey-dovey nothings, running through forest glades together and nearly fucking multiple times. If that seems like a sudden turn, it did to me too. It's like a light switch is flipped in the protagonist's head and she goes from hot tempered and angry at her capture to suddenly demure and love struck.

That "nearly" two sentences ago is important and brings me to another issue I have with the book. The sex scenes are bad. There's nothing to them. They are the most 14 year old "they kiss and then they do more stuff quick fade to black" kind of 'sex' scenes I've ever seen. Perhaps I'm merely used to a higher caliber of smut, but I feel the need to mention it.

We slowly learn more of the Fae and their woes during this time. Something called The Blight is slowly eating away at magic, killing the Fae as it goes. Those of the spring court, the court Tamlin (who during this is revealed as the High Lord [one of seven Fae rulers who control these lands] of the Spring Court) presides over, have had masks welded to their faces, never to be removed. We learn that Andras, the Fae Feyre fatally wounded, is merely the newest in a long line of spring court Fae to be slain, whether by humans, or The Blight.

We also get our first introduction to the villainous side of the story, as the author finally decided to try and add stakes to this novel. Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, arrives to be handsome and threatening. Those two words are his character in depth: handsome and threatening. He arrives and threatens Feyre for her name, which she gives as Clare Beddor, a childhood friend of her sisters (pin here dear readers, this will be important). We also get the name Amarantha (pin) who is a mysterious "she" the men have been talking about throughout the novel.

Now, I hope you've been keeping track of those pins because it's time to start pulling them out. With the addition of those two in the last chapter, we now have every single named female character in this book. All six of them. The three sisters, Alis, Clare Bonnet (who is killed two chapters after she is mentioned) and Amarantha. But really this is an inflated number. With the exception of Feyre and Amarantha, the others play only bit roles. Her sisters are seen a total of twice, Alis disappears halfway through and even then is only seen briefly when she is seen and Clare is killed literally two chapters after being introduced. Perhaps I expect too much of this fantasy romance series though, that it have prominent female side characters.

The End

I say the end, but in truth this section covers from around chapter 30 to the end of the book. I'd give a spoiler warning, but frankly I don't respect this book enough to do so.

So, after Rhysand (Rhys to his friends) shows up to be threatening, Tamlin sends Feyre home for her own safety, telling her he loves her. Feyre, despite feeling the same, does not tell him, for she does not want to burden his immortal life with her fleeting existence. So she leaves to her old home where she finds out that Tamlin wasn't lying and has been taking care of her family in her absence. They once again live in a palacious estate with their every need taken care of and more money than they know what to do with. Yay. I won't bore you with the details of this, nothing that happens here matters.

No, instead I'm going to continue to rave against the authors inability to write a convincing character arc. When we return with Feyre, she suddenly sees her sisters in a new light. Nesta, while a bitch, was only doing it to spite her crippled father in the hopes he would do something instead of leaving it all to Feyre. Now notably this did make Feyre's life a living hell, but eggs and omelets. Elain is revealed not as a spoiled child but as someone who simply has hope for the future. If my disdain for this isn't clear, I'll say it explicitly here: I fucking hate this bit of "character development". Feyre, once again, proves herself a doormat, unable to stand up for herself or to even care enough to make the attempt.

In any case, Feyre hears that something weird is happening in the woods near the wall, and realizes that shit is going down in the Fae world. She decides that instead of being useless here, she can go be useless over there. She rides north past the wall and arrives back at Tamlin's estate, to find it in ruins. She finds it abandoned, except for Alis, who explains what is going on.

The Blight isn't real, and is in fact just Amarantha, who had already won and was simply fucking with her opposition in a plan to break Tamlin's spirit and force him to love her. She offered him a deal: if he could get a human girl who killed a Fae in cold blood to love him, she would free him. There's some more lore drops here but I'll be frank, I don't care, and neither should you.

No, instead let's discuss Feyre and her doormat status, again. Consider with me for a moment. You are kidnapped after killing a magic wolf. You are told that you have to stay in this estate, or else die. You arrive and slowly manage to fall in love with your captor. Then you find out that this was all planned by him in order to break a curse on him. Am I the only one that this strikes as nearly abusive? She is tricked and lied to from literally day 1 and yet decided that none of that matters. Their relationship is literally based on a lie, on his own machinations to make her fall for him. She was tricked and lied to and yet none of that matters apparently because she loves him.

So she decides to put her protagonist pants back on and go get him back. She sneaks into Amarantha's court, where she is immediately captured because heaven forbid we get a competent protagonist. She is brought before the Evil Queen Amarantha and offered a bargain. If she can complete three trials, she and her lover will be freed, and if she can solve a riddle they will be freed immediately regardless of the trials. So she agrees and is beaten and thrown in a cell. She is healed by Lucien who gets his "uwu softboy" moment before leaving. She completes the first task, and to the author's credit she does it mostly through her own cleverness. To her detriment she still manages to insert a moment of Feyre getting saved by a man during the trial, Lucien, again, saving her by yelling out the location of her enemy.

She is injured in the course of this trial, and who comes to save her but another man. Rhysand, in this case, comes to offer a deal: he will heal her in exchange for one week out of every month, for the rest of her life, spent in the Night Court with him. He also then brands her with a tattoo. If this is not enough, he dresses her in a gossamer gown and body paints and displays her like a trophy at the Fae's nightly revels, getting her drunk and having her dance for him every night.

The second trial comes and it is a time based riddle. She must pick a lever before her and Lucien are crushed by falling spikes that are also on fire. Of course the riddle is written on the wall and she can't read. But fear not, there is a man here to solve her problems for her, because of course there is. Rhys gives her the solution to the puzzle and she wins and returns to her nights of being presented as a drunken sex toy. But fear not, we also get Rhysand's "uwu softboy" moment. You know, Rhysand, who has all but enslaved her and is the one presenting her as the drunken sex toy.

I don't care enough about this ending to describe it in depth. The third test is to kill three high Fae, she kills the first two and the third is revealed to be Tamlin, but that's okay, he has a literal stone heart, so she stabs him and he's fine. But Amarantha reveals she tricked her and didn't say when she'll free her (is there a more overplayed twist in media than this one? Maas, I beg, one original idea). Amarantha tortures her to death, but at the end she realizes the answer to the incredibly obvious riddle and gives it, and then Amarantha is killed by Tamlin. All the High Lords gather to bring Feyre back to life as a high Fae (no, this is never set up as something they can do) and they live happily ever after, I assume.

This book is bad. A boring, nothing protagonist who is constantly saved by the more competent men around her, which is made worse by the fact that the story keeps insisting she's a strong independent character. This book seems to hate it's female lead, our protagonist, in favor of its many male characters who are there only to be shirtless and occasionally have a moment of vulnerability to attempt to give them depth.

4/10, only read this if you're 14 and haven't read an actually good book before.

#Senior six book club #ACoTaR #Ali rambles

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hypixelskywars · 7 months

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This is @coyotecrash 's side blog‼️‼️

(mainly meant for keeping stuff on hand that I want to look back on/share and for general kin posting I dont want to do on main lol)

Jack or Kin Names They/Ey/He pronouns, POC, Tejano, Queer teen in college.

Coyote, Coastal Wolf, Red Tailed Hawk, Golden Eagle and Blacktip Reef Shark Therian, Werewolf Otherkin And Fictionkin!

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arofili · 2 years

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@aspecardaweek day five | relationships | queerplatonic rôg + enerdhil

Rōka and Anmír were elves of the Tatyar who awoke upon the shores of Cuiviénen. First of their people, they created a fëa-bond together without a simultaneous union of their hröar. Both were resourceful, inventive elves who were among those to the first develop smithing techniques; Rōka made more practical tools, while Anmír was renowned for hir jewelry and soon lengthened hir name to Anmíridil.

The pair was sundered when the Great Journey began, for Anmíridil was enchanted by the promise of Aman while Rōka turned to follow Morwë and the Hwenti eastward. Anmíridil made it to Aman with the rest of the Noldor and became a masterful jewelsmith, named only after Fëanáro Curufinwë in hir skill. In the east, Rōka worked diligently as a maker of weapons, and the work of his hands was vital to the defense of his people; indeed, in one assault of the Dark Vala’s monstrous creatures, Rōka was himself abducted from his home and carried back to Angband, where he was put to work in the mines. Yet he did not go without a fight, and so fierce was his resistance that he earned the name Rôg, “demon,” amid his captivity.

Eventually the Noldor returned to Middle-earth, and Anmíridil was among them. Not long after, Rôg led a rebellion among the thralls of Angband and broke free, escaping to rejoin his long-sundered kin. Thus Rôg and Anmíridil found one another again, unlooked for, and rejoiced to be together once more.

When Rôg was offered a lordship in Prince Turukáno’s hidden city, he asked Anmíridil, now known as Enerdhil in the Grey-elven tongue, to accompany him. Hir heart was moved, and ze accepted, and together they created the House of the Hammer of Wrath. In Gondolin, Rôg and Enerdhil would each create many great works, including the King’s sword Glamdring and the restoration of the famous Elessar.

[Image description: A series of 8 edited photos arranged in sets of two. 1: Headshot of a man with brown skin, golden eyes, and a buzzcut of dark brown hair; his ears have been edited so they are pointy and leaf-shaped; the caption reads “Rôg” with the subtitle “demon.” 2: The business end of a warhammer embedded with a green stone; circular text in the center reads “House of the Hammer.” 3: An erupting volcano below the stars; circular text in the center reads “Unbegotten Tatyar.” 4: A white horse walking on a forest path; the caption reads “Rōka” with the subtitle “swift horse.” 5: The Elessar, a green jewel set in a pendant of a silver eagle with spread wings; the caption reads “Anmíridil” with the subtitle “great jewels.” 6: The interior of a forge; circular text in the center reads “Smiths of Gondolin.” 7: Jewelry of two small golden swords on attached by a chain; circular text in the center reads “Partners of the soul.” 8: Upper body shot of a South Asian person bedecked in jewelry, looking to the side pensively; the person’s ear has been edited so they are pointy and leaf-shaped; the caption reads “Enerdhil” with the subtitle “lover of gems.” End image description.]

#aspecardaweek #tolkienedit #oneringnet #silm #silmarillion #tfog #the fall of gondolin #fall of gondolin #house of the hammer of wrath #rog #roka #enerdhil #qp #my edit #my writing #edit writing #headcanons #tefain nin #aro tolkien #ace tolkien #(theyre both aroace)#i think 'roka' was linguistically related to 'rocco' meaning 'horse'#in angband it was misheard as 'rog' and since he was such a badass people just accepted that was his name; he was a demon to the real demons #we know fuck all about the etymology of 'enerdhil' so i decided it would be related to jewels ('mir') and specifically 'great' jewels'#('an' + 'mir') and then add on -dil for 'lover of'#bc the alt explanation of it being 'anardil' doesn't work for my hc that ze is unbegotten and therefore existed before the sun #oh yeah also my enerdhil uses ze/hir pronouns <3 nb icon <3

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