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thestaroffeanor · 3 months

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Curufinwë the Crafty and Telperinquar the Ring Smith

Or actually just a proud, protective father and his cute, open-hearted son :) Not much here to say except that I got to try a new technique for shading and am quite happy about the results.

Oh, and I'm trying out a hc with the "light of Valinor" that so prominently is said to dwell in all Valinor-born elves (first had Tyelpe without it so I could better showcase the difference, but then I looked it up and he was not born later in Beleriand so eh). Elves born in the West get light pupils from me, a reflection of the trees and an inflection, actually. In daytime, the light in their eyes would be silver and golden at night, reminiscent of Telperion and Laurelin. Maybe they had somehow absorbed the tree light as they grew up. After the Noldor's flight, perhaps that even granted them some semblance of familiarity to what was lost and some comfort at gazing into their loved ones' eyes.

Of course, without the trees and the Valar's blessings, that kind of light lingered in the ones that had come from Valinor, but their children, born in Middle-Earth, would not inherit it and so even that small reminder of the Era of Trees was slowly forgotten. Few Eldar possess these tree-lit eyes anymore, but imagine the shock of the first new parents in Beleriand to see their children's dark pupils and maybe believe the Valar had not only forsaken them (which most had made their peace with) but their innocent descendants as well.

#my art #curufin #atarinke #curufinwe #celebrimbor #telperinquar #silmarillion #tolkien #headcanon rambles #tree light #little tyelpe just wants to be friends with all kinds of people #protective ada curvo kinda disapproves #you'll get vetted #house of finwe #house of feanor #silm art #tyelperinquar

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thelien-art · 29 days

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Day 5: Curufin for @feanorianweek

Envy｜Charity

Petunia: Petunias are a rare flower that symbolizes resentment and anger. Despite their flashy appearance, they take people by surprise because of their underlying meanings.

I think Curufin definitely struggled with being named, and compared, to his father, which led to him wanting to be different, but also being envious of his other brothers, since he thought they had more freedom in choosing what they wanted, it also led to him wanting to be better than everyone as he was used to compliments, especially involving Feanor, so when those changed to insults he completely broke. He was close to Celegorm because Celegorm was usually resident in the wild, away from politics and family, from Feanor. Yet even at the last he loved his father and brother to an unhealthy amount even when he knew it would be his downfall. He was also envious of his cousins.

Maedhros｜Maglor｜Celegorm｜Caranthir｜Ambarussa

#tolkien #silmarillion #jrr tolkien #curufin #curufinwe #atarinke #feanorianweek #feanorian week #feanorian week 2024 #tolkien art #silm art #digital art #my art

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wisesnail · 20 days

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Skills and personal style evolve - sometimes I'm still charmed by my old works, but other times I can definitely notice improvements. I actually have both reactions while watching this (terrible) video about the #Feanorions from 10 or so years ago, and the ones I painted in the past few weeks.

I don't know how to explain, but the new versions feel more... "real" to me (especially #Ambarussa , for some reason)

Anyway, this is a reminder to myself that I can get better - and I thought it would be fun to show the "before" and "now " <;

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junk-whunk-punk · 7 months

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A new «from scratch» of Maedhros

One of my favorite headcanons for Feanorians: After the rehabilitation of Maitimo after being captured in Angband, Curufin made a fancy and multifunctional prosthesis for his bruda (even with soft pads on its fingers so that Mae could compensate for the real touch!)

I love it. It's wonderful. Adorable idea. 🥹

#silmarillion #the silmarillion #jrrt #house of feanor #sons of feanor #feanorians #silm au #maedhros #maitimo #nelyafinwe #curufin #curufinwe #atarinke #silm #my art

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quinthejester · 8 months

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stinky smelly son number 2, mini-feanor, tis Curufin!

#curufinwe #curufin #atarinke #silmarillion #silm #my art #fanart #silm fanart #silmarillion fanart #the silmarillion #digital art #silm art #silmarillion art

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redreyenotarget · 1 year

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Curufin’s portrait is here⛈️

#fanart #digital art #art #illustration #digital painting #procreate #silmarillion #tolkien elves #tolkien #feanorians #curufin #atarinke #sons of feanor

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romina61 · 11 days

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What if Celegorm died first in Menegroth? And Curufin was in so much pain about his death that he didn't care if he got killed or not. What if, mh?

What's this? Oh, just one brother mouring the other.

I like to imagine that these two were inseparable, and Celegorm was also a big brother for Curvo. Just imagine the co-dependency.

TW: gory-version

When Dior had slain Celegorm, Curufin didn't have much to life for after. What kind of world was it, where he did have to prevail without Celegorm. And for the first time, he felt a pain that not even the oath could compare to, and for a moment, every decision he had made that let them up to this point flashed through his mind. Was it worth it? The blood on his hands was as red as his clothes. He wanted to tear it all off. And while he was still crying out to the sky, he felt hot steel on his throat. Hot from his brother's blood. It was all over now.

#silmarillion #silm art #silmarillion art #tolkien elves #celegorm #curufin #tyelkormo #atarinke #second kinslaying #what if celegorm died first?

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nvd94 · 2 years

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Spooky elves

#silmarillion #silm #silmart #silm art #silm fanart #curufin #atarinke #celegorm #tyelkormo #Tyelko #Tolkien

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elficially-done-with-life · 3 months

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#tolkien polls #silmarillion polls #sons of feanor #sons of fëanor #maedhros #maglor #celegorm #caranthir #curufin #amrod #amras #ambarussa #maitimo #makalaure #tyelkormo #carnistir #curufinwe #atarinke #polls

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thelien-art · 2 months

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In Nargothond´s Halls

#tolkien #silmarillion #jrr tolkien #celegorm #curufin #nargothrond #my art #digital art #silm art #turkafinwe #tyelkormo #curufinwe #atarinke #finrod is there in spirit

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doodle-pops · 9 months

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Hate You, Love You, It's The Same Thing

Curufin x reader

Warnings: none

Words: 1.3k

Synopsis: Curufin can't tell if he hated or loved you, but all he knew was that he felt some attraction towards you.

[Q]: Nai elen siluva omentielva — may the stars shine upon our meeting.

Curufin can’t stand you at all.

The way you smile, or how your eyes crinkle at the corners to produce an extra sparkle in your eyes, the little dimple at the corner of your lips or the way you toss your head back when the joke escalates, or how you would cover your mouth with your right hand—always your right—to hide your smile you once admitted to being embarrassed about; he couldn’t stand you. The longer he looked on, the more agitated he grew—it was the growth in the audience you attracted. Every time you stepped out into public, there was always a crowd, you simply couldn’t have attention on you at all times.

He rolled his eyes when you grew flustered at his older brother's jokes. Maedhros and Maglor, the famously attractive Noldorin Princes. To think that Curufin, after being labelled as a replica of his father would also be considered one of the most handsome elves, was a laughable joke.

Atarinkë. Call me mini father and I don’t even sport a single portion of his looks. If I did, you’d think I would have also attracted many people like him.

He continued to look on as you lifted the wine glass to your lips and took in a deep swig before sighing at the relief you must have felt from suffering a dry throat. All that laughter you had engaged in during the festival, and it wasn’t even nightfall yet. Teleperion was now coming into full bloom, overshadowing Laurelin. He scoffed again. Even Caranthir approached to offer you another glass of miruvórё when he noticed yours reducing; you had all his brothers wrapped around your fingers, and what did you do, flash a smile. Curufin knew that you knew what you were doing, and he hated it.

In fact, it’s not that he couldn’t stand you, he loathed you. Yes, he did.

Huffing and puffing in the deepest corner of the garden, he observed couples stumbling about the ground with unkept clothes, rumpled in areas that spoke of their activities or attempts. Intoxicated he could tell, others merely frivolous, and in his heart, it stung him. It pained him to know that everyone else, even the ones he mocked and considered unappealing and unapproachable were busy being swooned and courted while he remained untouched and unsuited.

Humiliation was not a pleasant and welcoming emotion in the House of Feanor, his father would be quick to inform him to dismiss such feelings. But as much as Curufin attempted to cast it aside, it came crawling back to him like a leach. The sluggish sensation creeping through his veins and pumping its deprivation through his bloodstream forced him to empty his glass and reach for another as a worker made a quick pass through the layout of the grounds.

“Oi, háno! What are you doing sulking all by yourself in a corner? It’s most certainly not like you!” Tyelko’s booming traversed the area, sending shockwaves from his volume of speech. Only Tyelko would ignore his volume and manners, and annoyingly call out his favourite brother without the thought of being counselled.

If Curufin was aggravated, he became infuriated when not only the rest of his brothers cast their eyes upon his shadowed figure, but you. Your kind, sympathetic eyes held his in an unbreakable trance. He felt himself slowly slipping on the ice, but landing on green, luscious grass. He felt himself being transported into a windy field with small rolling hills in the distance, short-kept grass, flowers in their full bloom and radiant abundance and you standing there with the wind in your hair and a gorgeous smile. He could feel how cool the summer breeze was, dancing across his skin and planting kisses as their travel. It was years since the wind had ever felt so divine. As you smiled, there was nectar pouring into his mouth. He couldn't spit it out, even if he wanted to; he didn't want to, he enjoyed the succulent richness of its taste.

He definitely hated you.

“I think he’s broken.”

“I haven’t seen him this lost since we left him in the forest that one time.”

“Think he’s probably drunk?”

“Have you ever seen him drunk?”

Gapping at you the longer your eyes held each other’s gaze, he silently grounded his teeth. He hated you, he chanted, but the butterflies in his stomach and the warmth spread through his skin, starting from his heart sang a different tale. Sharp silver-grey eyes continued to stare, and even you were sucked in the longer your heart swelled. Curufin didn’t know how long he stood there in silence gawking at you, but it was enough to become unconscious to your figure approaching his. The crowded silence had died in the background and his brother’s voices had been shut out the moment you left their company to join his.

You stood before him, shorter than most but tall enough to equate his height. His eyes were still locked onto your figure, not realising that you had already crossed the grounds and stood before him, a foot apart. Curufin was still lost in your world, your paradise, refusing to believe that you truly possessed what he already knew you did. He didn’t want to leave, but he also wanted to upkeep his notorious attitude of being unbothered and disinterested. That thread was growing thinner by the second and his patience becoming precarious the longer he spent time in your presence.

But it took a smile from you and a simple greeting to make him shut down.

“Hello, my prince. Nai elen siluva omentielva.” You greeted politely with a curt bow of your head and your hand extending outwards. The same smile he claimed to hate was accompanied by the greeting. You were angelic, or some deity that did not exist in his world or any other realm; too perfect for him to reach out and embrace.

While he thought of himself as high and mighty for bearing his father’s name and the status of a prince, he felt humbled. The genuineness you held in your eyes stripped him bare of all fear and worries that you would judge his character; the one he fought to uphold in honour of another and not himself. You deserved to be treated with the utmost care.

“G-Greetings,” he stuttered with a slight crack in his voice. His eyes made a rough dart behind you and noticed his brothers all gathered to observe. If you weren’t present, he’d toss his glass of wine on them, but then it would be a waste of good mead.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you…looked lonely and I wanted to ask if you would like a stroll in the garden or nearby the lake?” Why didn’t you say he was staring? He was most obviously staring at you; anyone on the premises could see that he was in fact gawking at you.

His palms grew sweaty, and his throat tightened. He hated you, so why would you with your beautiful wine-stained lips and starry eyes ask to spend time in his company? There was a thump in his heart. His tongue grew slack and spoke what he refused to acknowledge sincerely. “…Yes,” he curtly replied. A rosy blush had spread across his cheeks, and it was not from the wine. The unversed unorthodox feeling flowing through his veins was unlike any other he’d experienced. A whisper or two may have slipped into his ear growing up, but never detailed or spoken about on universal levels such as currently.

Uncoordinated body and trembling limbs reached out for you to take—tales of being a courteous gentleman—and almost accidentally spilling your wine. It was a first step into making a move and rewiring the oxymoron his brain and heart were performing, getting them to be on the same level. But even the prince knew that it was a challenge to accept when he detested and craved you at the same time, and a challenge he adored. You gave him a breath of fresh air and something to look forward to, a love unlike any other he would ever experience.

To hate is to love, they are two sides of the same coin. Ah, yes! He definitely hated you.

Masterlist | Underrated Character Event Masterlist |

Taglist: @eunoiaastralwings @noldorinpainter @ranhanabi777 @lilmelily @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @singleteapot @the-phantom-of-arda @rain-on-my-umbrella @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese @ilu-stripes @justellie17 @justjane @bunson-burner @stormchaser819 @wisheduponastar

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aotearoa20 · 4 months

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Foresight Skilled.

//1//2//3//4//5//6//7//

It is said the Fëanor never shared any designs for the making of the Silmarils. This is not entirely true, upon a rainy afternoon in the great forge hidden somewhere in the depth of Formenos he went through all his early prototypes with his namesake.

Curufinwë, however, was barely two and so would have been little help to any who asked, if he remembered the occasion at all. He listened half-heartedly, ever so often turning his attention to the colour bricks and gems set out to entrain him, but Fëanáro didn’t mind.

“ - that way if I am ever far away you’ll always have a part of me near.” He finished, ink stained fingers ghosting of the pages.

Curufinwë squeals and waves his wooden hammer, uncomprehending but excited. Fëanáro’s own smile was strained but warm and he ruffled the baby’s hair before returning to his schematics. The calculation’s were incomplete and there would without a doubt be complications once he actually got onto shaping the things, but it was clear starting point at the very least.

A silence fell across the room and drew on long enough that Fëanaro looked back at the child. Little Curvo’s eyes were fixed on something behind him. It was that time then.

He took a deep breath before he turned. The elf stood in the far corner of the room, staring blankly into space.

Fëanáro watched him a long moment but he didn’t stir. The fire crackled untended in the furnace and somewhere above the rain drummed patterns into the room but neither of them made a sound. If he hadn’t known better he’d have thought him one of Nerdanel’s sculptures.

“Curufinwë?” he said at last, gently stepping forward.

He blinked and blinked again before turning at the sound of his voice. His face went white under the grime and blood that masked it. He stumbled back, knocking over a stand of iron pokers.

“Uh oh,” Curvo sang behind him but Fëanáro doesn’t spare him a glance. The vision hissed at the sound hitting the back of the wall hard. He came beside him, hands hovering by his arms but Curufin all but shrieked and shied away.

“No! No, leave me alone, please - ” the boy cried out.

“Peace, it is only me.”

“I can’t! I can’t, Please I’m s-sorry”

Curufin covered his face with his hands and didn’t stop crying. The sound echoed like a curse in room. His whole form, too slight to be healthy shook as he shrank even smaller against the cold stone. Fëanáro didn’t want to push, he seemed so fragile, but if he could just understand what caused his torment perhaps he could avoid this all to begin with.

“Curufinwë, my child, I know you must be frightened,” he tried to keep his voice steady and gentle, “but I must know what happened, I just need you to t- “

“No more,” his whimpering came back together finally into words, as little sense as they made, “no I… there’s no more, please!”

“Curvo…”

“It’s… it’s all gone. I have given up everything,” his voice pitched into something near hysterical, “there is no more, I have nothing more to give you.”

His finger tangled and pulled at his hair and Fëanáro couldn’t bear to watch. He wrapped his fingers around his wrists, hoping in vain to ease them away and Curufin’s head shoots up. Such terror there was in his eyes, Fëanáro stepped back as if burned. His own hands shake at his sides, want nothing more than to reach out again but he won’t. He can’t.

“What troubles you?” he whispered, blinking away tears, “Tell me, I would help you if I can.”

If not in the future, at least now. He would do anything. Anything, if only it would ease the fear that marred his son’s face.

“Please just… leave me alone.” Curufin looked away, shame heating up his face, “Just for a moment, a moment’s rest.”

Fëanáro swallowed hard. Anything, he had thought. He got shakily to his feet. Oh and how it twisted his fëa to see the boy relax as he put some distance between them. Curufin’s eyes land on the baby as Fëanáro scooped him into his arms. Confusion clouds his face and then a grief he couldn’t understand. It took all his strength not to look back as he carried him out the door. All he heard was a soft sigh as it shut behind him.

#my writing #foresight au #silm au #curfinwe #curufin #atarinke #feanaro #feanor #silmarillion #tolkien

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dalliansss · 4 months

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Curufin took pride in the fact that all the elves which thought to bask under Finrod’s laughter and light would never see what he was truly like. Only the closest family and friends were allowed to glimpse beneath the mask of kindness and nobility Finrod had always worn.

It had been two days before the end of Tirion’s celebration of Finrod that he’d found his cousin sitting on ground by an abandoned alley, near a ditch. Finrod’s festive clothing were rumpled and soiled by vomit beyond any hope of salvation, and there were no flowers in his hair now, and his golden locks were tousled and tangled.

Finrod looked as if he had been mauled and dragged out of a tavern, and robbed.

Curufin walked toward him, made sure he was still alive, and then tried to lift him up, and walk him home.

They staggered together down the abandoned street, Telperion shining silver around the world, and Finrod chuckled.

“Not the very best in Aman now, right?” He slurred at Curufin as he chuckled brokenly.

“No, certainly not,” Curufin wrinkled his nose. They paused and he sought to wrap an arm closer around his cousin’s waist. Finrod was the taller elf (Curufin barely reached his eyes), yet Curufin was the stronger one, made tough from all of his work in the forge and the unending busy lifestyle of a Fëanorian. “You smell like vomit, your hair is rumpled, and you are most certainly the Ugliest Elf in Aman.”

Finrod giggled like no tomorrow. “Yes. Yes. Call me Ugly, for that is what I am, and only so very few understand that and see it.”

“Then you shall be Ugly henceforth.”

[available at AO3]

#silmarillion #my drabs #curufinrod #curufin #curufinwe #atarinke #finrod #finrod felagund #findarato #ingoldo #crown of thorns #curufin x finrod

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