the first son of Finwë and Míriel Therindë. Half brother to Findis, Ñolofinwë, Írimë and Arafinwë. Husband to Nerdanel and father of seven sons, crafter of the Silmarilli, High Prince and later High King of the Ñoldor. Spirit of Fire, greatest of the Eldar, the Dispossessed and kinslayer. ♦ ♦ ♦ || Independent roleplay blog for Fëanor Finwion, Tolkien character from the Silmarillion. I track my url. Open to crossovers and OCs, please read info first.

curufinwefeanaro:

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|| Announcement! I am hosting fieldofheathers-stuff at my place until the 28th, thus I won’t be very active on my dashboard. We’re gonna party Fëanorian style. You all are actually invited, granted you bring your own torches.

#queue unto the world's end  

|| Announcement! I am hosting fieldofheathers-stuff at my place until the 28th, thus I won’t be very active on my dashboard. We’re gonna party Fëanorian style. You all are actually invited, granted you bring your own torches.

#ooc  #threads unnumbered  

fieldofheathers-stuff:

Silmarillion Tarot Cards, Minor Arcana - Seven of Swords (the Oath of Fëanor)
Since this week I’m visiting curufinwefeanaro, I decided to take a little ‘deviation’ from my Major Arcana series and dedicate to her this piece. Since I didn’t manage to fit all the Fëanorians into my Major Arcana character chart (nor all the other characters I want to draw), I think I’ll draw, if not all, at least some of the Minor Arcana. 
I always wanted to illustrate the Oath of Fëanor: the dramatic tension of that moment, at least for me, fits perfectly with the tone of Giotto’s frescoes, and, as I discovered after finishing the piece, also with the actual meaning of the card (quoting from the ever-helpful Wikipedia: “A hasty decision, greed and/or thoughtless behavior, the individual acts in an impulsive fashion. It represents secret plans, hidden dishonor, frustration and the possibility of failure.” LOL).

fieldofheathers-stuff:

Silmarillion Tarot Cards, Minor Arcana - Seven of Swords (the Oath of Fëanor)

Since this week I’m visiting curufinwefeanaro, I decided to take a little ‘deviation’ from my Major Arcana series and dedicate to her this piece. Since I didn’t manage to fit all the Fëanorians into my Major Arcana character chart (nor all the other characters I want to draw), I think I’ll draw, if not all, at least some of the Minor Arcana. 

I always wanted to illustrate the Oath of Fëanor: the dramatic tension of that moment, at least for me, fits perfectly with the tone of Giotto’s frescoes, and, as I discovered after finishing the piece, also with the actual meaning of the card (quoting from the ever-helpful Wikipedia: “A hasty decision, greed and/or thoughtless behavior, the individual acts in an impulsive fashion. It represents secret plans, hidden dishonor, frustration and the possibility of failure.” LOL).

#I am currently in possession of the original piece of this drawing  #and it's as beautiful as it seems  #even more  #art  #feanor  #sons  #maedhros  #maglor  #celegorm  #caranthir  #curufin  #amrod  #amras  

Anonymous said: I have some doubts about ages of characters, do you think you could clear them up?? ^_^ The questions are: is Celebrimbor born in Valinor? How old are the twins when they take the oath? I imagine them as children but maybe I'm wrong?? Is Maehros older than Finarfin? How much older is Feanor than Fingolfin?

Sure, anon. So:

  • Is Celebrimbor born in Valinor?

Yes, he is. Curufin’s unnamed wife is said to have remained in Aman when the Ñoldor left, and whatever we think about LaCE out of universe it is obvious that Celebrimbor is born within the marriage. To have that, he must be born before the Flight. However, his age at the time is unspecified, so you can play with that as you wish.

  • How old are Amrod and Amras when they take the Oath?

They should probably be at least young adults. Unfortunately there is no canon date of birth for them, but it is said that Fëanor traveled across Aman with all of his sons, and was a guest of Aulë’s Halls with them (though Celegorm preferred Oromë’s company), by consequence they had to be old enough to ride a horse or, in any case, to travel. And that happens before the releasing of Melkor; between the releasing and the Oath pass 95 Valian years (according to the Annals of Aman timeline), which means they both were mature in age and into their adulthood.

  • Is Maedhros older than Finarfin?

I like to imagine him slightly older but it’s pure headcanoning, I haven’t any canon source that can back me up on this, unless I missed something. It’s up to you.

  • How much older is Fëanor than Ñolofinwë?

In the Annals of Aman, Fëanor is born in 1169 YT and Ñolofinwë in 1190, which means that there are twenty-one Valian years of difference (in short, Fëanor is not an adult yet when his half brother is born — they reached maturity at 50 years of age.) Still that timeline completely disregards the existence of Findis and Lalwen, and to make them fit you have to rework with the dates a bit (here is a version of the timeline that tries to do that, which is also generally the one I adopt as my personal headcanon, with some differences) On the other side, in the Shibboleth of Fëanor, he is already an adult when Ñolofinwë is born, but the exact number of years is not specified. 

#anon  #answered  #ooc  #threads unnumbered  #should I tag this so that I can find it again  #duh... oh well  #headcanon  

pk-buttcheeks:

i heard fëanor did a lot of bad stuff but he is also an elf dad so i could not resist.

pk-buttcheeks:

i heard fëanor did a lot of bad stuff but he is also an elf dad so i could not resist.

#the hair is a thing of beauty  #feanor  #art  

For a Little While

carnagestir:

Because this fanart by tosquinha was far too beautiful and perfect. Perhaps it was unneccessary to write this fic; perhaps the art should stand on its own. It certainly can!  (And makes me cry happy tears!) 

But I was inspired, and this is the result.

Fëanorian fluff, with the tiniest hints of pain for extra flavor.

It was only supposed to be Curvo and little Tyelpe at first.

You need to pay more attention to your son,” Altissë had snapped, holding the little child’s hand as he sniffled behind his mother’s leg. Curufinwë had looked at the boy, really looked at him, and seen the misery graven upon that smaller version of his own face, and nodded slowly.

His mind had gone at once to the evenings they had spent together as a family when he was little, out in the wilds beyond the reach of the Trees with only the stars and the fire’s glow to light and warm them. He would take Tyelpe with him, away from the city and the workshop and the angry mutterings which had begun to thicken the air in the streets.

But Curufinwë had quickly realized he barely knew where to begin planning such a venture; he had not gone so far outside the domesticated bounds of the lands around Tirion for a very long time, and never had he gone alone.

You’ll never manage it,” Tyelko had smirked, amused, when Curvo posed the question to him. “Just you, with the little lad? No, if I don’t come, you’ll break your neck or get eaten by wolves and Atar will never forgive me.”

There was no budging Tyelko once he’d set his mind to something; all the brothers had that in common. And Curvo would never admit it aloud, but the fair-haired ninny was probably right.

But then Moryo had wandered through while they were discussing the details, and snorted in that bullish way of his. “No, you can’t go there,” he had declared, fists on his hips. “Not for Tyelpe’s first camping trip! The stars shine much brighter seen from that one glade, you remember it, Tyelko, don’t you, just below the hidden waterfall? I’d best go with you. You’ll cock it all up if I leave it to you two feather-pates.”

And from there, the whole thing had spiraled entirely out of Curvo’s control.  Before he knew it, all six of his brothers were draped over the kitchen chairs, heatedly debating the best location for Tyelpe’s first camping trip, and the supplies they’d need, and when to depart, and how long to stay.

Every brother had a favorite location he wanted to share with his nephew, and no two of them were the same — not even Ambarussa’s. Kano had absolutely insisted they all bring their old instruments, and Moryo had grumbled under his breath that a tambourine was hardly a proper instrument for a prince. Nelyo had swatted him on the back of the head and declared that every musical ensemble needed a percussion section and Moryo could always at least be counted upon to hit things.

And just before the squabbling had really begun, Telvo had wistfully murmured, “I really miss the trips we used to take with Ammë and Atya.”

They had all fallen silent then, looking at one another. None of them had missed the tension beginning to rise between their parents, though none of them had spoken of it openly; to speak of it made it real in a way they could not escape and perhaps were not ready to face.

Maybe…?" Nelyo had not quite asked, and turned to look at Curvo. And Curufinwë had thought of his son’s little face, so like his own, and nodded slowly.

Neither Fëanáro nor Nerdanel had at first wanted to go when the idea had been tentatively broached, but their sons were nothing if not stubborn and somehow, some way, they both had been convinced. Perhaps they had both secretly wanted it all along, perhaps their memories of a happier and simpler time were undimmed by present anguish. Perhaps they, too, thought of little Tyelpe and again chose family over everything else, as they ever had.

Perhaps they had only wanted to stop up their sons’ yammering mouths and agreed out of desperation as much as anything.

Whatever the reasons, with Fëanáro and Nerdanel now helping, the trip had been planned easily as all nine fell, without need for discussion, into the unspoken rhythms of their long years of kinship.

Altissë had only smiled when she learned that the father-son outing had become instead a family affair, and had demurred when invited to join the party and said she would rather spend a few evenings in the company of Marillë and Lanatissë, Moryo’s and Kano’s wives. “The wives of the sons of Fëanáro have their own things to discuss upon a time, Curvo,” she had said gently but not without a savor of tartness to it. 

Tyelpe himself had diluted the tension which might otherwise have arisen as the party hiked toward the chosen location. Tyelko was sulking because they had not taken horses, and Moryo was sulking because the hated tambourine jangled in his pack, and Ambarussa were both sulking because no one had liked their ideas for where to take Tyelpe first. And none of them could miss that Fëanáro and Nerdanel did not walk beside one another as they had on previous trips, nor speak beyond the bare minimum necessary.

But the boy…Tyelpe’s eyes were wide as saucers, bright as the overhanging stars. His mouth hung open as he gazed around the wilds of Aman from his perch high on Huan’s shaggy back. Questions spilled from him like rain, and laughter like birdsong, and under such a relentless onslaught of sheer joy even the foulest Fëanárion mood gave way like a sand-castle at high tide. The brothers took turns entertaining their nephew with the wildest stories they could imagine; it was decided Kano had won, as he usually did, but Pityo came very close.

By the time they’d reached their chosen camp site and Curvo had taught Tyelpe the proper way to lay and build a fire — with the unasked and unnecessary aid of all his brothers at once, of course — the atmosphere had been almost normal. Almost warm.  Fëanáro had even been seen to smile, and take his grandson upon his knee to point out and name the stars above, and Nerdanel had traced out the constellations’ shapes in the soil with the point of one work-calloused finger.

They were so much brighter here, far from the city’s lights.

And then Kano unslung his harp and began very quietly to pluck at the strings. The rippling music of it was like the stars themselves, bright in the air between them. Nelyo joined in first with his simple flute, and then Tyelko’s fiddle rang out loud and brash and the whispering music began to dance instead. Moryo even smiled as he beat upon the tambourine.

Ambarussa danced unashamedly, swinging each other about the little clearing, bright as sparks, bouncing like twin fireflies between the pale trees. Tyelpe clambered down from Fëanáro’s lap and crawled up upon his father’s instead, bright eyes fixed upon the musicians at their playing and fascinated. Kano wondered if the little one would grow to be a musician and not a smith nor craftsman; it would be nice to have more music in their lives.

And then Nerdanel smiled, and lay herself down upon her husband’s lap to watch her sons and her grandson at their merriment. Pride and wordless contentment shone in every line of her figure, her red hair glowing in the firelight. And Fëanáro took her hand in his and let the music and the starlight wash him and conjure up a time gone by when everything had been so simple.

The world fell away, and the Valar and the city and the new-forged steel of unblooded swords were forgotten, and the sweetness of the wild air was a thing made fresh and new with each breath of it they took, and they dared at last to be happy.

For a little while.

#oh my god I am dead  #the fluff killed me  #goodbye  #fanfiction  #feanor  #nerdanel  #wife  #sons  #grandson  #long post  


Seeing this and believing war already to be kindled came now those of the Gnomes who might not fare aboard the ships but whose part it was to march along the shores, and they sped behind the Solosimpi, until coming suddenly upon them nigh the Haven’s gate they slew them bitterly or cast them in the sea; and so first perished the Eldar neath the weapons of their kin, and that was a deed of horror.

—The Flight of the Ñoldor as it is told in the old discarded draft of the Book of Lost Tales.

Seeing this and believing war already to be kindled came now those of the Gnomes who might not fare aboard the ships but whose part it was to march along the shores, and they sped behind the Solosimpi, until coming suddenly upon them nigh the Haven’s gate they slew them bitterly or cast them in the sea; and so first perished the Eldar neath the weapons of their kin, and that was a deed of horror.

—The Flight of the Ñoldor as it is told in the old discarded draft of the Book of Lost Tales.

#silmedit  #tolkienreadalong bingo  #thefeanoriansareback  #graphic  #tag the kinslaying  

tosquinha:

Fëanorians being merry elves making music to the stars. I like to think that this kind of thing happened at some point, but with all things considered, I’m not sure. Maybe it’s a huge AU.
From left to right:  Fëanor, Nerdanel, Amod, Amras, Curufin (with baby Celebrimbor), Celegorm, Caranthir, Maedhros and Maglor.
PS: curufinwefeanaro, it’s the family portrait for ‘House of Fëanor’ project. I figured I could combo it with a bingo card fill. *shrugs*

|| I am in love with this picture.

tosquinha:

Fëanorians being merry elves making music to the stars. I like to think that this kind of thing happened at some point, but with all things considered, I’m not sure. Maybe it’s a huge AU.

From left to right:  Fëanor, Nerdanel, Amod, Amras, Curufin (with baby Celebrimbor), Celegorm, Caranthir, Maedhros and Maglor.

PS: curufinwefeanaro, it’s the family portrait for ‘House of Fëanor’ project. I figured I could combo it with a bingo card fill. *shrugs*

|| I am in love with this picture.

#you did it I'm going to cry  #I owe you another fic now  #art  #feanor  #nerdanel  #wife  #sons  #grandson  

Anonymous said: hey there I saw that you're a little inactive lately, I hope you're doing ok and everything's fine!

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|| Hi, anon, thank you for such a kind message. Yes, everything is fine and I am actually not posting much but actively lurking the dash.

I am simply trying to not push myself too much when it comes to roleplaying because I can tell by experience that it’s nothing nice and only results in lack of motivation. I am ridiculously slow, lately, but I write for fun and I wish to keep doing it. Thus my slow approach to drafts and memes and such. Thank you for asking and have a good day.

#anon  #answered  #ooc  #threads unnumbered  

veliseraptor:

we’re coming for blood || a fanmix for the seven daughters of fëanor

↠ listen
bad girls // m.i.a. || glory and gore // lorde || a different beat // little mix || gods & monsters // lana del rey || untouchable // sky ferreira || seven nation army // melanie martinez || black sheep // gin wigmore || something new // girls aloud || blood on my hands // danielle parente || come alive (the war of the roses) // janelle monae || meddle // little boots || help i’m alive // metric || problem // natalia kills || bottom of the river // delta rae || bad reputation // joan jett

veliseraptor:

we’re coming for blood || a fanmix for the seven daughters of fëanor

↠ listen

bad girls // m.i.a. || glory and gore // lorde || a different beat // little mix || gods & monsters // lana del rey || untouchable // sky ferreira || seven nation army // melanie martinez || black sheep // gin wigmore || something new // girls aloud || blood on my hands // danielle parente || come alive (the war of the roses) // janelle monae || meddle // little boots || help i’m alive // metric || problem // natalia kills || bottom of the river // delta rae || bad reputation // joan jett

#hella  #sometimes I have seven daughters  #I'd say ''you should run regardless''  #but the right sentence is  #you should run faster  #fanmix  #music  #sons  

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MJ