#aracano

[starshadeemilyart]

A Sad Parting

Argon and Anairë say farewell as he departs from Valinor with his father and siblings.

This is my art for @nolofinweanweek. I have combined the prompts for days 1 and 2.

[starshadeemilyart]

Yondonya

I was inspired to write this short fic by this post by @queerofthedagger The angst potential for long distance osanwë is just sooo much.

700 words, on AO3 here, Big Sad ahead

The last message she received from Aracano should have been no surprise. Had she not heard the words of those who returned with Arafinwë? How they had heard the Doom, a fell speech that proclaimed the dreadful words, “slain ye may be and slain ye shall be.” And how she had wept when she heard those words, how cold the speechless shiver that slithered down her spine, how dark the foreboding upon her soul. But surely he did not speak of those who had been hers. No, not of her children.

Wherefore had she opened her mind to him and not the others when they reached for her across the thousand miles of land and sea and ice? She could not say; perhaps it was because he was young, perhaps because he had not drawn blood like Findecano, had not turned away from her like Irissë and Turucano, had not spoken to her bitterly as his father had done when he said farewell, Nolofinwë who had forsaken his humility and traded it for a pride offensive in its dizzying heights. And Anairë regretted what she had said to him in turn, but there could be no apologies.

But Aracano was like his father, like him in face and in speech, like him in his virtues and in his vices. He was more impulsive than his father, prone to acting out of passion more than discernment, but he deferred to Nolofinwë’s judgement more often than not—and how often was he not to be found at his father’s side? Her mind was closed forever to the elder Aracano, but she knew that whatever she told her son would go to his father. She could not forget him. If only she could forget him, for it was well that he was gone. But she could not, not when the son called to her in his thought.

Aracano wished for her to know that he was alive, that they were all alive. He would spare her from details of the evils of their passage, the torments of cold and hunger and pain, but now and then his control over his mind slipped as he bethought the suffering which he endured, and his weary mind opened to reveal those things, and she saw frightful images of what he had seen: her granddaughter’s feet blackened by the frost, Irissë and Findecano eating raw flesh that she knew came from no beast of the earth, Nolofinwë, his mouth firm in a stone scowl of anger and defiance, Lalwendë at his side, both of them wearing an expression of such fell animal wildness as she had only seen once and that in the eyes of Fëanaro. She had shuddered and tried to cast it all from her mind, but those fragments of memory haunted her into her dreams, and she would wake beside Eärwen in a cold sweat.

Aracano rejoiced when he saw the Moon, bright and silver in the West, and she rejoiced with him, for it spelled an end to the long darkness, a new symbol of hope for the Eldar, a sign that mayhap the Valar would in truth not abandon the dear ones who had abandoned her.

But next she heard from Aracano he was in pain. His mind was red with fear and anguish and he reached for her, for Mama. She knew his father held him too, she knew his siblings were there, but she could not hold him in her arms, she could not hold her baby as he lay dying. She cradled the part of his mind that touched hers, she cradled it and she wept.

“Mandos calleth to me, Ammë, and I must go. Come to me Ammë, take me home if the Doomsman ever seeth fit to release me. I love thee, Ammë.”

A slipping, a fading, a satin ribbon falling limp through her fingers, and Aracano faded like smoke. The wind bore away the filiform strand of his thought, and Anairë heard from him no more.

She fell to the ground weeping, and the salt wind of Alqualondë bore away her wails: “my baby, my baby, my baby is dead.” Anairë swooned, and it was long ere she awoke.

[thelien-art]

Fingolfin Knight of Clubs

Astrantia = strength, courage

Gladiolus = honor

I wanted him to look like Feanor so I made him blend into the background too, but then again Helcaraxe is made of ice soooo, also I added Grond to show how he dies like I did with the cards I already made!! And last of all I wanted the flowers to come from behind him

I´m making this into a playing card pack so if you´re interested in buying one keep your eye open for when I have more information on it, such as the price and when it will be out.

Feanor King Of Clubs

Maedhros Queen of Clubs

[theelvenhaven]

Kissing the Elves

Nolofinweans

Fingolfin

A hand coming to rest on your waist while his other hand comes to the back of your neck and hair, before he leans down to kiss you. He does it with an aura of confidence as his lips meld with yours firmly, hungry and demanding for the full attention of your lips against his. His big frame surrounding you protectively and dominantly before his lips finally part from yours, undoubtedly Fingolfin wears a satisfied look on his face to see you so breathless.

Fingon

Fingon kisses either slow and sweet, taking the time to enjoy how soft and pliable your lips are against his. Hands cradling your face oh so tenderly, thumbs stroking the gentle slopes of your cheeks in such a sweet embrace. Or his kisses are fun and playful and teasing, nipping at your bottom lip with a smile that pulls at the corners of his lips. Hands absolutely wandering lower than your lower back or if in public chastely keeping his hands on your hips.

Turgon

Turgon’s kisses are always done in the privacy of his chambers, where here he can kiss you without any prying eyes. Sometimes they are incredibly slow and lingering, forehead almost pressing against yours as he wraps an arm around your waist to keep flush against him. Sometimes they are deep and fiery full of pent up passion that he has been dying to shower you in, no less gentle with you keeping you as close as he can, needy for such intimacy.

Argon

Argon’s kisses start out firm and restrained, it takes sometime to get him to loosen up, kisses starting firm and his hands stiffly placed on your hips, keeping a bit of a gap between you both. But soon enough he can’t resist how amazing kissing you is, lips growing hungry and positively desperate for more of your affections. Keeping you pulled flushed against him, unintentionally dominating the kiss.  

Bonus

Maeglin

Maeglin’s kisses are always private and always unrestrained and long. He can never get enough of the way your lips feel against his and often he loves just laying in bed making out with you. Lips always starting out timid and mindful before pressing them firmly against yours. Taking his time to savor the way you feel against him, humming softly as he slowly slips his tongue into your mouth. A hand holding yours keeping it pulled to his chest, with the other arm resting beneath your head.

* * * 

tags:

@saviorsong​ @lilmelily​ @dicksoutformtl​ @fandom-hoe101​

[theelvenhaven]

Kissing Fingolfin

- When it comes to kissing Fingolfin, anticipate for all of that intimate affection to be saved for behind closed doors.

- It’s not that Fingolfin doesn’t want to indulge in such affections with you, it’s just he prefers to adhere to the strict rules of propriety.

- In elven society PDA is not the social norm, so all of your kisses and intimate embraces are not for prying eyes.

- Fingolfin is a man of strong conviction and of great confidence so his kisses will be no less powerful.

- He is absolutely intoxicating to kiss and each one will leave you feeling weak in the knees.

- After a long day of working when Fingolfin meets with you, he approaches you in a powerful and commanding presence. A hand coming to rest on your waist while his other hand comes to the back of your neck and hair, before he leans down to kiss you.

- He does it with an aura of confidence as his lips meld with yours firmly, his big frame surrounding you protectively and dominantly before his lips finally part from you. 

- Fingolfin always looks at you completely satisfied, especially if you look flustered and bashful by his kiss.

- In those moments every single kiss is met with length and with passion, there’s not a moment where his kisses are short or lacking.

- He loves the feel of your lips against his and finds himself kissing you as often as he can in private.

- In the heat of passion and intimacy when Fingolfin kisses you, he completely controls the kiss.

- His fingers gently tangling in your hair before pulling to tilt your head back, his lips hungry and demanding for the full attention of your lips against his.

- Its spine tingling and positively domineering as he commands absolute and complete authority of the interaction.

- Though Fingolfin won’t kiss you in public, he will definitely be sure to make up for it all when it’s just the two of you together.

[mossquitoman]

Fingolfin and his horse (Rochallor? Would they still be alive by the ruin of Beleriad then?) while crossing the Helcaraxë

[sorrowsaesthetics]

Nolofinwean Week 2019

Day 5 Argon

[erotetica]

Fingolfin