New Challenge: Stars
Create a fanwork using star-themed prompts presented in a bingo board format.

Finwë received his crown from Manwë Súlimo himself, so he knows what it is to be betrayed.
Fëanor received his crown from Finwë, so he knows what it is to die.
Maedhros received his crown from Fëanor, so he knows what it is to burn.
Fingolfin received his crown from Maedhros, so he knows what it is to be broken.
Fingon received his crown from Fingolfin, so he knows what it is to despair.
Turgon received his crown from Fingon, so he knows what it is to stand firm.
Gil-galad received his crown from them all, and it’s too soon to know what he’ll do.
Gil-galad, burdened with the memories of all his predecessors, does his best.

Sudden laughter startled Maglor out of his reverie.

The Herald of Maedros Noldoran rides to Doriath, to demand answer for Dior’s illicit silence. There will be Recompense or Just War to follow, and not even Maglor can say which he hopes for in truth.
Created for TRSB 2026, art 100 is a hand-drawn interlaced star of Fëanor with four of the named points broken (CW: drops of blood).
The fic written for it will be posted in the TRSB 2026 collection after 5 September 2026.

Over the course of his very long life he had found a handful of messages in bottles, but it had been a very long time. So when he found the glass bottle on his little stretch of pebbly beach, he picked it up with the intention of tossing it into his recycling. But it wasn’t, he found, just another beer bottle.

This tale follows Maedhros and his wife (OC) from their time in Aman to the end of the First Age; following a brutal attack in Valinor, intense familial strife is forever set in motion. Mostly follows Silmarillion timeline/canon with internal narrative twists. Character dives on all of the Sons of Fëanor, ongoing work with currently 17 chapters I will be posting soon (currently all cross posted to AO3) :)
Maglor reflects on the past after returning to Valinor. Created for the August 2026 "Building Middle-Earth" challenge.

It was easier than he had thought it would be to leave his name behind—to put on a new one when needed, like changing one set of clothes for another.

He’d ventured into the little fishing village in search of food and maybe a dry place to sleep for a night of rain and wind—he hadn’t expected this, to be bullied into a hot meal and a healer’s attention.

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Fingon, President
Daeron, Vice-President
Pengolodh, Secretary
Finrod, Treasurer
Maglor, Alternate Officer
Salgant, Snack Officer
Daeron has an important question to ask Maglor. And no, it’s not “can I get some more art supplies for my Kid-Kit?”
A Baby-Sitters Club fusion story, set in the 1980s.

“What did you do to your hair?”

Roverandom and the Sea Rover find a crab on the beach--not unusual in itself, except this one smells like magic.

After wandering through the forests of Oromë, Maitimo and Makalaurë discover a quiet clearing, stopping to rest. With lyre in hand, the private audience begins— for this song, Makalaurë will only allow his brother to hear.

Erestor lay up against a tree, brown washed to black in the wet of the snow. The black disc of the new moon sailed across the dark sky. Erestor wished it were gone. He had no need to look into dark eyes any longer.
He was dying.
(AKA Erestor unwittingly travels back in time to the days between the Dagor Bragollach and the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, meets the sons of Feanor, Thingol and his ilk, many Laiquendi, many Dwarves, and Men besides, and THEN decides to solve the drowning of Beleriand himself. This has nothing to do with his personal problems. Nope. Not at all. Erestor is having regular feelings.)

A young Celegorm and Curufin befriend an old Spruce tree.

In the aftermath of the third kinslaying and the death of Amrod and Amras, Maglor needs to reassure himself that Maedhros is still there with him.

Maedhros is left behind by his family after the Kinslaying at Alqualondë after falling beneath the waves. Fingon, in a chance return to Alqualondë, finds an unconscious Maedhros and brings him to camp. The two will discover anew what their love means for them after the lies that split them apart.

Trapped upon the bitter cliff, Maedhros dreams. Or hallucinates. Or endures the mental torments of the Dark Vala, Morgoth. Surely, one of those must be the case; for he cannot have been rescued from Thangorodrim's torturous peak. He cannot.
But then, why is Findekáno here?
Maedhros finds in many ways that those visions which do not end with his own blood and breaking are the worst of all: because they end instead in waking, and the inescapable knowledge that such things will never again be aught but dreams to him. That knowledge is a tighter shackle than the one that holds him to the cliff-face, and the pain of it around his heart is much sharper than that which throbs through his arm. An arm goes numb much faster than a heart, and there is a limit to how much pain a body can bear before the sensation of agony starts to crumble beneath the onslaught.
If there is a limit to how much pain a heart can hold, Maedhros has not yet found it.

Passing headlights sweep across the wall, yellow and striped through the blinds. In the distance a siren wails, and in the dark, quiet hotel room they lie facing each other, each curled toward the other like parentheses, with thousands of years of history tucked between them.

Fëanor shrugged, studying the contents of his wine glass. “Something must be done about that house. It will fall down eventually.”
“It does not follow that it must be you that tears it down single-handedly. Are you sure you do not want help?”
“It’s not as though I have much else to do. I need to build something new there,” he said after a few moments. “To do that, I must first clear away the old and broken things.”
Decades out of Mandos, too many things in Fëanor's life remain broken. He can't do anything except wait for his sons to come to him, but he can do something about the old and crumbling house where they once lived.

Maglor without Maedhros, Daeron without Lúthien. Alone, they are nothing, but together, they can be something more.
Where do you turn, when you have no one else left?
Written for Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang 2023, featuring artwork by athlai.

Celegorm is on his way to do something that only his closest and trusted has knowledge of.

As Elros awaits the coming of night, when he will set sail for Elenna, he and his brother Elrond speak about their earliest memories, what happened to their foster family, and how they learned the truth of their father and mother’s fate.

a collection of drabbles and mini ficlets in the meanwhile the world goes on 'verse that aren't long enough to stand on their own

House of Fëanor star - paper-cutting, markers, pens, coloured pencils