#atarinkë

[anattmar]

Sir🫡

[maedhrosdefender]

can we all agree that atarinkë is objectively the most whimsical finwëan mother name (just in how it rolls off the tongue)

[lovefairymina]

*little [y/n] tugging Curufin pants and looking up to him with big smile.*

[y/n] : "Daddy! Daddy! I think I know what I wish for my birthday!"

*[y/n] jump in exitement.*

[y/n] : "I want little sister or brother! I want to be a big sister! Like uncle nelyo!"

You could see his gaze softening as he looked down at you, his expression a mix of surprise and affection. He crouched down, ruffling your hair with a small smirk. “A sibling, hmm? Well, you’ll have to be a very good big sister, while I speak with ammë.”

[beatles4ever65]

What D&D Class is Curufin?

Artificer

Barbarian

Bard

Cleric

Druid

Fighter

Monk

Paladin

Rogue

Sorcerer

Warlock

Wizard

Voting ended onDec 24, 2024

(Please tag/comment/reblog Ranger if that's your answer - unfortunately I ran out of option slots in the poll and Artificer seemed more likely)

[aldanil]

All Fëanorian week entries are now completed ! Thanks for creating this event, it was challenging but I was very glad to participate for the first year !

Maedhros | Maglor | Celegorm | Caranthir | Atarinkë | Ambarussa | Fëanor and Nerdanel

[mandhos]

[memoriapraeteritorumbonorum]

Love notes to the Fëanorians

Author's note: Tried something new with this one. Imagine slipping a little note under your fav Fëanorian's door :)

-

Carnistir

A rose you are, dark and deep as the sunset’s crimson embrace. 

Your petals rain on me like prayers. 

My fingers, pierced by thorns as sharp as your tongue, 

long to be intertwined with thine on this day. 

Makalaurë

It dawned on me, 

like the fog loves the rain —

I love you.

Like the tides pledge themselves to the shore — 

bound to you, I am. 

Tyelkormo

When I think of you, I bloom.

In the most peculiar ways, I flourish. 

Maitimo

Only the whispering winds

could convey my sentiments to you.

With open hands

I dwell. 

Atarinkë

Your piercing eyes, 

have magic trapped inside.

How I linger in your gaze,

awaiting your touch.

See me, hear me, ruin me. 

Ambarussar

Do indulge

in these verses dedicated to you.

Conjured up from deep inside, 

to wherever you are. 

Heartfelt laughter is what you are, 

brighter than an innocent smile,

lighter than the air I breathe.

Love is never enough,

for my feelings run deep, 

deeper than one word could ever convey.

[grey-gazania-fic]

Spark

A brief moment between a young Curufin and his future wife. Started for a B2MeM prompt from a few years ago, "meeting your future spouse". Rated G.

“I’m going to visit Mánaiwë tomorrow,” Atto said over dinner. “You should come along, Curvo. It’s been quite a while since you’ve seen Nyellë.”

“The last time I saw Nyellë, she hit me over the head with a toy cow so hard that one of its legs came off,” I said. It seemed necessary to point that out. Mánaiwë was a good friend of Atto’s, and I’d known his youngest daughter since we were both small, but my relationship with Nyellë had always been a little rocky.

Across the table, Maitimo snorted into his soup. “As I recall, she did that because you kept pulling her hair,” he reminded me. “Because you ‘liked the way her curls bounced’. You were hardly an innocent victim.”

“And that was fifteen years ago. I’m sure you’ve both matured,” Atto said, giving me a pointed look. “Mánaiwë tells me she’s been apprenticed to a firework maker. You’ve read a fair bit about pyrotechnics lately. I’m sure the two of you will find something to talk about.”

“Do I have to?” I asked, realizing even as I said it that the whine in my voice was unbefitting of a thirty-five year-old. I was more than halfway grown, not a small child anymore, and Ammë was already conveying with the look in her eyes alone that I was acting immature.

“Yes,” Atto said. “You have to. You don’t spend time with enough of your peers, Curvo. You know I’m pleased by how hard you work in your lessons with me, but you can’t spend every day in the company of the same half-dozen people. Besides, Mánaiwë has been asking after you. It would be rude of you to stay home.”

“Fine,” I sighed. I was comforted only slightly by the way Tyelko caught my eye, indicating with a look that he was sympathetic to my position. Different though we might seem at first glance, my older brother was probably my closest friend, and he understood my reluctance to tear myself away from the things that interested me for a social visit that was bound to be awkward, if not outright boring.

Perhaps, once I came home tomorrow, he and I could meet up with Irissë, our favorite cousin. That, I thought, would be a reasonable reward.

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