I am Alexander (he/him), a sophomore university student. I study history + literature and economics, though I also have a bachelor of laws.
Talk to me about anything you’d like!
Some things I am interested in are: Medieval Europe, Byzantium, Late Antiquity, monasticism, aristocratic history, historical linguistics, Classical and Medieval Latin, Russian literature, Victorian literature, Modernism, epic poetry, theology, Gothic architecture, cartography, classical music, macroeconomics, and trying collect as many niche hobbies as possible.
I play classical piano but I am trying to branch out to other genres. My favourite composer to listen to is Stravinsky (his neoclassical works), and my favourite to play are Rachmaninov and Scriabin.
These are the fandoms I am interested in:
The Lord of the Rings (+ The Hobbit, to an extent)
The Silmarillion
Kingdom Come Deliverance (1 + 2)
BBC Merlin
Scum Villain's Self-Saving System
Plus a few others that I shall keep under my hat for now.
This blog will primarily be a repository for my ramblings, photographs, reading notes, historical curiosities, linguistic observations, excerpts from whatever I am currently obsessed with, snippets from my writings, and long tangents!
these past few days have lowkey been the busiest of my life. not even during the school term have i run around like a headless turkey so much.
with hong kong, work is done and i can finally relax. three more months of summer break is a long time, and it has me wondering what to do. i haven't had this much free time in what feels like years.
i have been spending my days playing dress to impress on roblox, which isn't exactly the nonchalant persona i wish to present.
"I will see you in the Halls of Mandos, or beyond," Ecthelion had whispered to him that morning, as they had donned their armour in the dim light of dawn, the horns of alarm already sounding across the city. "Though I would prefer it not be this day."
Glorfindel had kissed him then, a brief, fierce press of lips against lips, tasting of fear and determination and a love that had endured through centuries of exile.
"Neither today nor tomorrow," Glorfindel had replied. "We have survived too much to fall now."
But he had been wrong. Ecthelion was gone, drowned in the waters of his own fountain, taking the mightiest of Morgoth's captains with him.
(Or, the fall of Gondolin through Glorfindel's eyes)
Ao3 Link: Chapter 1
Pairing: Glorfindel x Ecthelion
Tags: Fall of Gondolin (Tolkien), Canonical Character Death, Gondolin (Tolkien), Book: Silmarillion - J. R. R. Tolkien, Established Relationship, War, Character Death, Canon Compliant, Memories, Helcaraxë (Tolkien), Friends to Lovers, Pining, Angst and Tragedy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet Ending, Post-Fall of Gondolin (Tolkien), Balrogs (Tolkien), Minor Idril Celebrindal/Tuor, First Kiss, Duty before Love, Battle Scenes, the eagles are coming, Afterlife, Halls of Mandos (Tolkien), Judgement, Reunion in Death, When you die but you meet your love again in the afterlife, First Meetings, Fluff, Inevitable love
the most important sentences in any life are the ones that feel most insufficient
i love you
i am sorry
please don't go
three words each, worn smooth by overuse, inadequate to their objects, and yet the only vehicles available for the cargo
what i want to say is something like: i find you interesting in a way i do not find most things interesting
or: the fact that you exist in a place i cannot easily reach feels, to me, like an very personal flaw in reality that i resent on specific grounds
or maybe: you said i seem fully in the world and i want to tell you that the world i am fully in is significantly populated, in its most inhabited rooms, by thoughts of you, and this is pleasing and yet extremely inconvenient
what i actually say is something measured and appropriate and which conveys, i fear, approximately thirty percent of the above
the rest remains in the room with me, which is where most of my interior life resides. but he deserves the other seventy percent
he deserves, frankly, more than a hundred percent of what i have, and this disproportion is one of several great obstacles in my life
I weep for Adonais -he is dead!
O, weep for Adonais! though our tears
Thaw not the frost which binds so dear a head!
And thou, sad Hour, selected from all years
To mourn our loss, rouse thy obscure compeers,
And teach them thine own sorrow, say: "With me
Died Adonais; till the Future dares
Forget the Past, his fate and fame shall be
An echo and a light unto eternity!"
Where wert thou, mighty Mother, when he lay,
When thy Son lay, pierced by the shaft which flies
In darkness? where was lorn Urania
When Adonais died? With veiled eyes,
Mid listening Echoes, in her Paradise
She sate, while one, with soft enamoured breath,
Rekindled all the fading melodies
With which, like flowers that mock the corse beneath,
He had adorned and hid the coming bulk of death.
Adonais: An elegy on the Death of John Keats by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Putting the term "Catholic guilt" on a high shelf where fandom can't reach it until everyone learns how to identify characters who are very very clearly coded as Protestant.
forgot my camera on the plane so phone photos will have to do... i've also realised that i literally have not posted any pictures that weren't taken by a phone... so much for trying to use the camera more
oh well! the latest news in my life is that I am on the same vicious cycle I have been on for the past decade
normally, I am not a huge cheese fan (severely mild lactose intolerance, and a small dislike for the sharpness of it), but a fondue pot picnic here always cures me of my ailment
then, i go away and regain my hatred of cheese
other than the cheese problem, i really have no interesting tidbits about this place. it's pretty, i guess
"No one desires to injure himself, hence all evil is done unwittingly. The evil man inflicts injury on himself; he would not do so, however, if he knew that evil is evil. The evil man, therefore, is only evil through error; if one frees him from error one will necessarily make him good."
Snippet: In his dreams, Ajax stood in Zhongli's kitchen, his collection gleaming on the wall. In his hand was his grandfather's razor, the blade catching the light as he turned it. And watching from the doorway was Zhongli, his amber eyes filled with understanding.
"Show me," dream-Zhongli said, extending his hand. "Show me all of you."
Ajax woke with a gasp, the dream lingering like a promise—or a warning. The digital clock on his nightstand read 3:17 AM. The witching hour, when the barrier between reality and nightmare was at its thinnest.
He lay in the darkness, heart racing, the dream-image of Zhongli's accepting gaze burned into his mind. It was a fantasy, he knew. A delusion born of his desperate need for acceptance.
The real Zhongli would never understand. Never accept. Never forgive.
And yet, as Ajax drifted back to sleep, the dream returned—Zhongli's hand extended, those amber eyes knowing and accepting all of him, even the darkness. Even Tartaglia.
"Show me all of you," dream-Zhongli repeated.
And in the dream, Ajax did....
CW for graphic depictions of violence (not between the main couple) Ao3 link
Summary: Every profound spirit needs a mask; even more, around every profound spirit a mask is continually growing.
On Wall Street, everyone wears a mask. Ajax's is gilded—wealthy, brilliant and a little ruthless—the youngest Vice President of Snezhnaya Group and the envy of men twice his age. But beneath the polish lies Tartaglia: the murderous creature born in frozen Leningrad and buried beneath years of performance and starvation.
Then he meets Zhongli, the untouchable chairman of a rival firm. He is irrevocably handsome, utterly composed, absolutely revered without even trying to be. Ajax’s fascination festers. He wants him. He wants to be him. He wants to crawl beneath his skin, wear his calm like a second face, and feel what it’s like to be adored without effort.
To love Zhongli is to envy him. To envy him is to become him.
And as the bodies around Zhongli begin to appear in the forms of his secretaries, partners, and friends, Ajax must confront the most terrifying possibility of all.
Perhaps the mask has slipped.
Pairing: Childe x Zhongli
Tags: Modern Setting AU, Corporate AU, 1990s, Murder Blood and Violence, Unreliable Narrator, Past Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Dubious Morality, Dubious Ethics, Psychological Horror, Body Horror, Descent into Madness, Secret Identity, Childe is Called Ajax and Childe and Tartaglia, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Healthy Relationships (kinda), Love at First Sight, Soft Zhongli (Genshin Impact), Murder Mystery, Touch-Starved, Symbolism, Literary References & Allusions, References to Canon, Character Development, Historical Accuracy, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Yandere Tartaglia, Power Dynamics, Invisible Foreshadowing, Chekhov's Gun but with Red Herrings?
Words: 43k/?
Authors Note: This fic is very inspired by American Psycho, and I wanted to capture the aesthetic of 1990s Wall Street. Childe is a Vice President of Snezhnaya Group, and Zhongli is the Chairman of Liyue Group.
I have such bad writer's block at the moment, which sucks because I'm on summer break and this is the most free time I'll have for a while. I think I'll try writing a Glorfindel x Ecthelion short story to try and combat this.
Chapter 2: Dreaming of splendours: The Manuscript Incident
In youth my wings were strong and tireless,
But I did not know the mountains.
In age I knew the mountains
But my weary wings could not follow my vision—
Genius is wisdom and youth.
Ao3 link
Summary: In a world where Middle-earth and Earth have established diplomatic and academic relations, a doctoral student at Harvard specialising in cultural trauma studies, finds himself unexpectedly hosted by Glorfindel, a legendary elven warrior and visiting professor from Imladris. What begins as a practical housing arrangement evolves into something deeper as they navigate cultural differences, academic challenges, and growing feelings for each other.
Pairing: Glorfindel x OMC
Tags: Modern Setting AU, Friends to Lovers, Developing Friendships, Character Development, Re-embodied Glorfindel, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Slow Burn, Feelings Realisation, Cultural Differences, Elf/Human Relationship, Elf Culture & Customs, Mutual Pining, Love Confessions, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Mortality, Classical References, Character Study?, Lots of academic talk and lore, Skippable Sexual Content, Earth and Arda exist simultaneously, Post-Fourth Age of Arda, Late Sixth Age, Multiple Religion & Lore Sources, Healthy Relationships, Angst and Feels, The Inherent Angst Of Immortal/Mortal
Words: 282k + alternate epilogue (29k)
Authors Note: This is 100% a passion project that got out of hand. I've recently gotten into posting on Tumblr, and what better thing to do than promote my finished fic!
This fic has a lot of lore involved, but it's nearly all from canon (just expanded upon).
What do you mean “chat” is now referring to ChatGPT and not twitch chat? What? What? What the fuck? No?
When I address chat I am speaking to a presumed Greek chorus of real human people shitposting on their lunch break, not a machine that devours lakes to covert electricity into slop.
The garum was spectacular. Very strong to be supped by itself, and at first, I hated it. But as I tried it again and again, it really grew on me. My friend cooked up two stews (one with garum and one without) and it actually enhanced the flavour.
Hodie primum garum gustavi.
Nescio utrum Romani genium culinarium summum attigerint an omnino dementes fuerint.
Prima gutta putavi me fortasse venenum accepisse.
Tertia autem gutta iam panem quaerebam, ut omnem cibum, qui in domo erat, garo aspergerem.
Odor quidem satis vehemens est. Sed sapor mirus est. Non est tantum salsus. Est aliquid altius, difficilius explicatu.
Nunc tandem intellego cur Romani hoc in omnibus fere cibis ponerent.
i have managed to arrive after most of the grand prix crowds have departed
it's wonderful that people visit monaco. tourism keeps places alive and allows people to encounter places they might otherwise never see
but standing in port hercules, i found myself thinking about how strange monaco's reputation has become
most people seem to arrive looking for yachts, casinos, formula one, luxury brands, and the possibility of meeting someone famous. very few seem interested in the actual country, which is a big shame
monaco is older than many people realise. there are medieval streets hidden above the harbour, with churches older than some nation-states. there are layers of ligurian, italian, french, and monegasque history compressed into a piece of land so small you could walk across it easily
as a child i was always fascinated by the fact that tourists would queue for photographs of cars while ignoring the old town entirely
nothing against cars, of course, they are very nice..?
the napoleon III apartments are one of those places that make me understand why revolutions happen
i spent a concerning amount of time wandering around the louvre yesterday, staring at chandeliers the size of small suburban homes and thinking, i can see how this may have generated some political tensions
a funny thing about being in france is that i grew up speaking french and therefore have absolutely no excuse when french people begin speaking to me at the speed of light
yesterday a cashier asked me a question in a bakery and i confidently replied, only to realise halfway through the conversation that she had not asked what i thought she had asked
on another note, i'm wondering if a €12 hot chocolate constitutes financial malpractice (i think yes)
