I Still Wonder How The Guard Could Miss Like That

Celebrimbor

I headcanon him having blueish grey eyes and a different shade of black hair to his father (paler and more on blue side) but I guess everything is lost through filters haha, I also wanted to draw this type of eyebrows for a long time

He ties up his sleeve and hair during work

he is beautiful

THE RINGS OF POWER + THE BEAUTY OF ELROND PEREDHEL.

THE SILMARILLION (+ descriptions of Elrond’s father and foremother) - J. R. R. TOLKEIN.

“Of surpassing beauty was Eärendil, for a light was in his face as the light of heaven, and he had the beauty and the wisdom of the Eldar and the strength and hardihood of the Men of old […]”

“Melian was a Maia, of the race of the Valar. She dwelt in the gardens of Lórien, and among all his people there were none more beautiful than Melian, nor more wise, nor more skilled in songs of enchantment.”

Watched this film recently, loved it

Waterloo (1970)

Ts pmo sm icl💔

An Unexpected Joy

A/N: A bit of Gil Galad fluff... making Gil Gadaddy a reality ;) Also- look at his haiiiirrrrr its so prettyyyyy

Pairing: Ereinion Gil Galad x reader

Word Count: 1.7K

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Your steps are light as you tread through the dimmed corridors of the camp, the night’s quiet punctuated by the soft crackling of distant fires. The mingling scents of smoke and herbs fill the air, earthy and pungent, the healers’ remedies still clinging to the battlefield’s recent memory. You feel the strain of conflict clinging to you like a shadow, its weight not yet lifted. Eregion has fallen, its people scattered across hills and ravines, each soul a flicker of light in the dark. And yet here you are, walking through the ruins and remnants, driven by a miracle you had only dared to dream, an ache of longing finally met.

The trail narrows as you descend deeper into the glade, down to a secluded grove nestled at the bottom of a ravine. You pause, the sound of water trickling nearby, a peaceful counterpoint to the fury you’ve left behind. The ravine is shrouded in a thick, quiet darkness, broken only by glimmers of starlight filtering through the leaves. You continue carefully, following the faint tracks left by those who came before, your heart guided by an unshakeable instinct. At last, you see them: Ereinion, your beloved, King Gil-galad, seated vigilantly on a low log beside the resting figure of Galadriel.

She lies on a bed of soft moss, her silver-gold hair spilled across the ground like moonlight. Her breathing is soft, a steady rise and fall, each breath a testament to the healing power of the rings. The harshness of battle has fallen away from her in sleep, leaving only peace in its place.

Ereinion sits nearby, his gaze fixed on her with a soft intensity, as though even in this quiet moment he must protect her from unseen threats. His face, usually so stern in the presence of others, is touched by gentleness in the solitude of the glade. The firelight from a nearby torch dances over his features, highlighting the weary lines etched by long years and countless sacrifices. His hair tumbles over his shoulders, dark and unbound, catching glints of silver in the starlight, and for a moment, you pause, heart full, seeing in him the king and the man you’ve loved for centuries.

Quietly, you approach, hoping not to disturb him, but the soft rustle of your steps gives you away. He turns, his gaze catching yours, and in his eyes, you see a flicker of relief, of joy, mingled with something deeper. Here, in this hidden glade, with the echoes of war left above, you find yourself on the cusp of sharing a revelation more profound than any you’ve carried before.

“Meleth nîn,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper as he turns to you. His eyes soften with an unspeakable relief as they meet yours, and he steps forward, closing the distance in one swift, unhesitating motion. His arms wrap around you, pulling you close as if you are his very breath, his anchor in this ravaged land. “You’re here. Safe. How did we escape without a scratch?”

You melt into his embrace, letting the warmth of his touch wash over you, steadying the parts of yourself still shaken from the day’s terror. “By some grace we did,” you say softly, resting your head against his chest. The steady beat of his heart calms you, grounding you in this moment. You close your eyes, breathing him in, and for a second, all the fear, the grief, the worry dissipate like mist.

But as the silence deepens, your thoughts turn to Galadriel, who still lies in a quiet slumber. “And Galadriel?” you ask, your voice a mere murmur against his shoulder. “Will she recover?”

He sighs, a weight in his breath that you can feel deep within his chest. He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, the flicker of sadness and resolve in his gaze unmistakable. “Her wound was dark, festering from the touch of Morgoth’s crown itself,” he says, his voice low and strained. “It was… worse than I could have imagined. She has endured great pain, more than any soul should bear. We feared the wound might take her, that the shadow clinging to her would devour even her spirit.”

His gaze falls to where she lies, his eyes softening with a deep affection and sorrow. “But the rings have done their work. She is healing, the darkness lifted, though it took all we had to cast it out. Now, she only needs to wake. It will take time, yet I believe she will return to us.”

You follow his gaze, taking in Galadriel’s peaceful, sleeping form. Her face, though still and pale, no longer bears the strain that had marked it before, her breathing deep and even. Relief fills you, mingled with a gratitude too immense to name. She has survived a shadow few could endure—and in some quiet way, that gives you strength. 

The words press against your lips, a tremor of anticipation and uncertainty, too immense, too impossible to hold back any longer. Yet as they linger, unspoken, a wave of nervousness washes over you. The enormity of what you are about to reveal fills you with both joy and fear, and for a moment, you hesitate, wondering if this fragile new hope should remain a secret for just a moment longer, kept safe from the harshness of the world.

But Ereinion is watching you closely, his gaze shifting from tender relief to concern. He pulls back, searching your face with quiet intensity, sensing the weight of what you hold back. "Are you truly alright, meleth nîn?" he asks softly, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your cheek. "You look… troubled." His voice is gentle, and his brow furrows, the ever-present protector surfacing in his gaze.

You swallow, heart pounding. "I am," you whisper, voice barely a breath. But the truth wells up in you like light breaking through darkness, and you realize you cannot hold it in any longer. With a deep, shuddering breath, you close the small distance between you and rest your forehead against his, feeling the strength of his presence, his warmth, grounding you.

"There's something else, Ereinion," you say, your words trembling with the weight of them. Your hands, trembling but sure, reach for his and guide them to rest gently over your stomach. You press his hands there, urging him silently to feel, to sense the delicate, radiant spark of life that stirs within you—a light so faint, yet already strong, like the glimmer of a star.

His fingers curl instinctively over your stomach, and you watch as his expression shifts, disbelief dawning in his eyes, mingling with wonder. You feel his breath hitch, and for a heartbeat, neither of you moves. It’s as if the world itself has stilled, holding its breath for this impossible truth. And then, like a whisper only he can hear, he senses it—the faint yet unmistakable light of the fae stirring within you, growing, living.

"A child?" His voice is barely audible, choked with wonder and joy, his gaze filled with awe as he looks down at your joined hands, as if the world has rearranged itself around this single, precious moment.

For a heartbeat, there is only silence, but then realization dawns in his eyes, followed swiftly by the gleam of pure joy. He clasps your hands, disbelief mingling with awe. “A child!” His laughter, bright and unrestrained, fills the air. He pulls you into him, pressing a kiss to your lips, as though your happiness has rekindled some part of him worn by the years of warfare.

When he draws back, you can see his mind already racing, the strategist within him awakening. “But what of the battle’s toll on you?” he asks, concern darkening his features as he cups your face. “Are you unharmed? You’ve been through so much—how can I be sure—”

“I’m fine, my love,” you assure him, pressing your hand over his. “Whole and safe. Our child is strong.”

He exhales in relief, though his eyes linger on your face, still assessing, still planning. “Then I’ll make sure that nothing will threaten you both,” he promises fervently. “You must have the best care, a fortified place far from the battlefronts. And when the battle breaks out again…” His thoughts tumble over one another as he strategizes how to keep you safe, listing every precaution, every arrangement, his love woven into each detail.

With a smile, you reach up and quiet him with a gentle kiss. “Ereinion,” you murmur, resting your forehead against his. “We’ll do this together. The timing may not be what we imagined, but together we can weather it.” The warmth of your words and touch stills his worry, and he nods, a faint smile lifting his lips. His hand covers yours, resting over the life you now share.

Before you can speak again, a dry voice cuts through the quiet of the glade, laced with humor and unmistakable sharpness. "I must be more wounded than I thought," Galadriel drawls, her eyes barely open but glinting with mischief. “Or perhaps I’m hallucinating… It’s either that, or I am far too injured to stomach such sickening affection.”

You and Ereinion both turn, momentarily startled, and find her watching you from her place on the moss-covered ground, a small, genuine smile tugging at her lips. Laughter bubbles up between you, spilling into the soft night air, as relief and joy mingle freely. Still chuckling, Ereinion lifts his gaze, meeting Galadriel’s with a smirk.

“Ah, but don’t strain yourself further, Lady of Light,” he replies, voice dripping with feigned reproach as he holds you tighter in his arms. “It wouldn’t do for you to exhaust yourself any more than necessary. Not all of us are accustomed to such stoic detachment from matters of the heart.”

Galadriel huffs, managing to roll her eyes in spite of her injuries. “I will recover, Ereinion, if only to save myself from enduring another moment of this spectacle.” But there is warmth in her gaze as it drifts between the two of you, a faint shimmer that speaks of her own hidden joy. Though she hides it well, you can see the spark of approval in her eyes, an unspoken blessing shared in the soft, knowing look that only a friend and ally can give.

You rest your head against Ereinion’s shoulder, and for a moment, the world feels untouched by shadows, your heart buoyed by this rare, shared joy. You steal one more glance at your husband, the glimmer of hope rekindling between you. Whatever lies ahead—whatever battles or burdens the future may hold—you know you’ll face it hand in hand, just as you always have.

Elrond: It is better to ask forgiveness than permission.

Gil-galad: (to the guards) Keep an eye on him. And keep a watch on all waterfalls.

absolutely adorable!

Nobody: Camnir:

⠀😳 👉👈

so sweet they give me so much life

Hii! I just wanna say, your blog is life to me! Literally come here to scroll on tough days, and seeing all the character designs and funny comics makes everything better! Really love your art style and designs. I know this has been asked before but I'm wondering if I could use your art as profile pictures? I really appreciate the joy your art brings!

hihi hello!!! first off, thank you so much for your kind words! i'm sorry for how delayed this response has been (im just getting back into tumblr after one of many hiatuses... AGAIN!!!), but it warms my heart on my own tough days to hear you enjoy my designs and comics! it means a lot, so thank you again!! ❤️❤️

now onto your question about using my art as a pfp: that's absolutely fine! by the time i'm answering this it's likely a bit late already, but i hope this clears things up in the long run. im absolutely ok with anyone using my art as pfps/icons, just so long as you remember to credit me, don't claim as own, dont use for AI training, etc etc.... hope that clears things up, and sorry again for taking so long to see this!

sweet

In This Lifetime

I WROTE THIS FOR YOU @morganas-pendragons <3 Hope you like it!!!

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Golden leaves fell slowly off of the giant tree that overlooked the great elven realm of Lindon. They were a sure sign of the end that was creeping closer every day. By the time they would have all fallen, the elves would become nothing more but lingering fragments, a sign of a great race, trapped in time. 

Standing there, in front of the Great Tree, did not help ease your mind as you had originally hoped it would. When your mind was in chaos, the mere sight of the tree could usually bring back your peace. This time, however, it brought upon nothing but sorrow. Knowing the fate of your people, and knowing you could do nothing about it, left you in despair.

“These rings, they could save our people. They could save the entirety of Middle Earth.” The words of your closest friend echoed through your head at that moment. He spoke highly of three rings that he claimed to have the power to prevent the disastrous fate that you were stuck dwelling on. Though you knew not of any such power. You feared what would happen if such rings were to be made. It would be no different from going against the Valar themselves.

“Do you still believe that the rings are a bad idea?”

His voice startles you as he comes to stand with you, under the tree. He gazes up at it, contemplating something that you believed to be far beyond your comprehension. He was always thinking of something, but that is what made him into the genius he is.

“They will forever be a bad idea, until you can create them in a way that does not disrupt the natural order of things.”

Your response caught him off guard. When he had proposed the idea to you, he did not imagine that you would linger on it for so long, nor that you would think so deeply about it. Though he did admire that about you. Your mind worked in wondrous ways.

“What if I could convince you that the rings are working parallel to the natural order? They would not stir up any trouble.”  He held your hand gently as he spoke, and while you wanted to believe him, you found it hard to do so. 

“How would you convince me?”

“Come back with me to my forge. Let me show you how I wish to make the rings.”

A part of you wanted to fight back, but his sweet words, his gentle voice, it all swayed you to follow him back to Eregion.

His forge was nothing short of breathtaking. Gems and other beautiful trinkets were placed carefully around the room. The light from the setting sun showered the room in a beautiful, soft glow. You couldn’t help but to be reminded of the early days in your friendship with Celebrimbor. He would often have you stay with him while he worked on his latest project, claiming that you were like a good-luck charm for him.

”Come, have a seat. I’m gonna make some tea and then we’ll get into the rings.”  He led you to a rather soft looking chair and then hurried off to make tea. He was always so hospitable to you, even after the countless times when you would tell him that he didn’t need to be.  

A sudden crashing noise, from the direction he was in, had you on your feet and racing towards him in a matter of seconds. It seemed as though he wasn’t quite paying attention and had dropped one of his teacups. Hardly something to cry over.

”What happened? Are you hurt?”  You slowly walked towards him, so as not to startle him.

”I was making tea and the cup was in my hand, it was so secure. I have no idea how it fell.”  He was staring down at the cup as though it was a wounded animal. This would have been quite amusing, had you not been so concerned from the start.

”It is just a cup, my dear friend. There is no need to be so upset over it. Here, let me help you clean it up.”  You grabbed a nearby towerl and  knelt down beside the broken cup. Before you could even start picking up the pieces, you noticed little spots of blood, which you deduced to be his.

”Celebrimbor?”

”Hm?”

“Let me see your hand.”

You stood up again and extended your hand, waiting for him to offer his. But he hesitated.

”I am fine you know, there’s no need for this. In fact, I can clean the cup up myself. You should go have a seat, my dear.”  He tried to usher you away but you stood your ground.

”Hand. Now.”

He hesitated for a second longer before finally giving in and placing his hand in yours. Despite being a master smith, he had quite soft hands. It dawned on you then that you had never really held his hand before. You carefully examined it and found a small yet deep cut on his ring finger.

”Your hands are your best tools, Celebrimbor, you cannot hurt them.”

He sighed at your words. You brought him back to the main room and found a clean cloth and some ribbon. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the only option at that moment. You brought him over to the chair you were previously sitting at and sat him down, squishing yourself in, between him and the arm rest.

”You know, you could just heal it.”  He looked down at you with a playful smile on his face.

You frowned at him. 

“No. You and I both know that my healing abilities are hardly something to rely on.”

”It is a small cut, my dear. I believe in you.”

”Celebrimbor-“

”I trust you with my entire being.”

His words made you freeze. You had been friends with him for many, many years. It was only natural for you to develop feelings for him, even though you had convinced yourself that he wouldn’t feel the same way. So to hear those words from him now…it made your heart flutter and suddenly, the room seemed way too warm.

You said nothing in response as you carefully cleaned the cut and prepared to heal it. Your healing abilities were not at a level where you could save someone from the brink of death, but it should be good enough for this.

A soft, light blue glow shone from your hands as you hovered over his cut. You closed your eyes, focusing your energy on healing him. He watched you carefully, admiring the focused look on your face while also taking in how beautiful you were. Especially this close.

”There, it should have worked.”  You slowly opened your eyes and examined his finger. The cut was gone, not even a scar left behind.

”It would seem as though you are not giving yourself enough credit, my dear.”

He smiled gently at you as he flipped his hand around in yours and intertwined his fingers with your own. “I should keep you here with me, to be my personal healer.” He laughed as he said this but he was only half joking.

”That would only work so long as you do not injure yourself gravely.” You slowly pulled your hand out of his and brought your other one up to cup his face. ”I cannot lose you, and I would not be able to save you.”

It was more than a profession of love. You were telling him how you had felt for many years now. You couldn’t live without him. He had left such a lasting impression on your life that it would feel like a void if he were to leave.

”Lucky for you, I do not intend to go anywhere. I will stay right here with you, for as long as you will have me.”  He closed his eyes and leaned into your hands, relaxing against your touch.

You sighed deeply, letting go of all of the worries you held earlier. Your hands seemed to move on their own, as they traveled upwards and gently traced the outer shell of his ears. He let out a soft sigh and tilted his head back, letting his head fall deeper into your hands.

Oh how he had been waiting for this moment. He longed for your touch, for you to hold him, to know that you felt the same as he did. The feeling of your delicate fingers running along his ears, it made him feel as though he was touched by the Valar themselves. He felt invincible. You made him feel invincible.

”My dear?”

”Should I stop?” You slowly started to pull your hands away but he quickly grabbed them and held them in place.

”Do not stop. Please.”

His voice was so soft, full of love and desperation. He needed you more than he needed air. You were his lifeline.

”Marry me?”

You dropped your hands in shock at his words. He was staring at you now, his eyes full of intent. He truly wanted you, there was no doubt about that.

”Celebrimbor? Do you truly mean it?” 

“With every breath in my body, with the very blood that runs through my veins, I mean it. You are more precious to me than anything I have ever created, more beautiful than any jewel in the universe. You are my everything. Please, Y/N, marry me.”

He was holding your hands in his now, his face mere inches away from you. You leaned in to him, your lips were hovering over his now. 

“I will marry you. In this lifetime and in every one in the future.”  

He could not longer find any words to say. He instead decided to pull you onto his lap and hold your head in his hands. Reciprocating your earlier movements, he traced the tips of your ears before pulling you into him and kissing you. Your little noise of surprise was drowned out by his deep sigh as he deepened the kiss, leaving you both absolutely breathless.

He finally felt as though he had everything wanted in his life. You always were the missing part of his life. He silently vowed to never let the world harm you, for as long as you both lived. As you had said, in this life, and every one in the future.

Y’all have no idea how much I laughed at this one

The master of persuasion.... 💋 Celebrimbor/Annatar

This is inspired by that picture of Celebrimbor crossing his arms, you know which one. And also, Celebrimbor has been daydreaming about kisses and he got one. 💋