Ary瑞 @arytang - Tumblr Blog

「If doom is bound to come.」

「Stare it down fiercely.」

I finished them 😎😎😎

Actually, this scene is from a tabletop RPG session with my friends. I played Maglor, and Morgoth hit me hard, knocking 9 points off my HP 😭 That’s how this artwork came into being...

#silmarillion #maglor

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Baby Celebrimbor doodle in Fëanor's journal

For Tyelperinquar: (a grandpa's note) You call me "haru". The word feels strange sometimes. As if it belonged to someone older and gentler, someone who knows how to marvel quietly. You fit in my hand. How is that possible? My little flame, Your name is long, but your fingers are small, they grab my hair like you mean to keep it. You are Atarincë’s son. My Curufinwë. I loved him first, and I love you twice more. You have Káno's voice, and your father's clever hands. You have my fire — And your grandmother’s patience. I hope you are never in such a hurry to prove yourself. Grow. Laugh. Learn the names of the stars, and I will teach you how to make them.

Fëanor's journal series

Curufin

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Celebrimbor was sitting beneath a golden stone wall with his little toolkit spread around him, carefully hammering a crooked silver flower into shape, when the voices started again.

“He came to Middle-earth with the burners of the ships!”

Celebrimbor ignored them.

“He is the mad king’s grandson!”

That made him look up.

Three elflings stood there, all older than him by at least a few years. One had his hands on his hips in dreadful confidence.

Celebrimbor narrowed his eyes.

“My grandfather was not mad!” he said sharply. “He was the greatest elf who ever lived!”

The children snickered.

“The mad greatest elf!”

Another piped up, “My atar says all the Fëanorians are bad elves!”

Celebrimbor's grip tightened around the silver flower. He stared at them for a long moment.

Then, very slowly, he stood up.

Celebrimbor was smaller than them, with ink stains on his sleeves and silver filings in his hair. But Curufin had taught him never to bow his head in shame.

Celebrimbor dusted off his silk tunic with dignity.

“You will regret saying such things,” he informed them.

The children rolled their eyes.

“Or what?”

Celebrimbor lowered his voice dramatically.

“My uncle Tyelkormo will hear of it.”

Silence.

Even among elflings, the name carried weight.

One child frowned uncertainly.

“Tyelkormo the Fair?”

“Tyelkormo,” said Celebrimbor gravely. “The Cruel Hunter.”

He stepped closer.

“He hates elflings.”

The children exchanged looks.

Then Celebrimbor added:

“Except me.”

The oldest child laughed nervously.

“You are lying.”

“My uncle talks to beasts.”

“That isn't frightening.”

Celebrimbor considered this.

“He also ripped an orc's heart apart once.”

“What?”

“With his bare hands.”

All three children stared at him.

“He hunts the forests every night,” he continued darkly. “And sometimes he finds children wandering alone.”

One of the younger elflings took a frightened step backward.

"And then, what?" Celebrimbor pressed onward mercilessly.

“He ties them to trees so the wolves can devour them.” Then he added, “Not me, obviously, because he likes me.”

The smallest child looked alarmed now.

“You are making this up.”

Celebrimbor looked offended.

“I am not.”

“Yes, you are!”

Celebrimbor paused.

Then he said thoughtfully,

"He has an enormous hound that eats people!”

“That is not true!”

“It is! Huan is as big as a horse, and he eats elflings… except me.” Celebrimbor added. “And Uncle Tyelko says frightened children taste much better.”

At this point, one of the elflings actually looked ready to faint.

The oldest tried desperately to recover. “W-well—my atar says Tyelkormo lives far away!”

Celebrimbor smiled pleasantly.

“Lies. If my Atto is nearby, Uncle Tyelko is too. They are best friends.”

Absolute horror descended upon their faces.

“And,” Celebrimbor continued, enjoying himself immensely now, “I shall tell him exactly what you said about my grandfather. His father.”

The smallest child burst into tears instantly.

“I do not want the horse-dog to eat me!”

The others panicked at once.

“He is gonna leave us in the forest to die!”

And suddenly, all three fled across the courtyard screaming.

Celebrimbor watched them go.

want draw Noldor with shining jewels...

all of three families()

"Smile more~Turu~"

画画状态好差，速涂一张轻松的😢

你们兄妹一定要好好的……

#silmarillion #turgon #Aredhel

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Before & After

- for @gaydhros who loves my Russingon art

Hello, I hope you’re well! I love your art and saw some of your commission art, and I was wondering if your commissions are open? If so, do you have a price sheet too?

Hello! Thank you so so much for liking my art. I have a Vgens account.

I’ll open commissions there once everything is ready, but I still haven’t sorted out the payment methods yet 😭

Once it’s all set up, I’ll post the price sheet on X and Tumblr!❤️❤️❤️

#vgens #commission

Finwe and Feanor，kinship.

I love you and my soul will always be with you.

Happy 520! (In Chinese, these numbers are the same as "I love you")

#silmarillion #silmarillion fanart #feanor #finwe #520

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He lounged against the worktable, the gold hems of his robes dragging carelessly through the dust; he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Hauling stone like a dockworker..." he said, "It is catastrophically unrefined.”

Nerdanel dropped the crate beside a half-built kiln and glanced at him once before snorting.

“If the prince finds the labor too vulgar,” she said evenly, “the gardens are several courtyards away. I am sure the flowers miss you terribly.”

Fëanor tracked the movement of her shoulders, a faint, heavy-lidded smile playing on his lips.

"No, I have no intention of leaving," he leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand. "I find I much prefer the... brutality of your craft, than soft hands and fragile sighs."

“Then, move,” she said, approaching. “You are standing where the stones go.”

Nerdanel stepped past him toward the staging pile and slowly turned her gaze to him.

He was even more beautiful up close.

An intolerable thing to recall.

The lines of his face looked carved in marble, his infamous silver eyes bright beneath dark lashes, and he scented faintly of flowers as if he wandered out of a poem by mistake.

But she’d be damned if she let him see her swoon!

Fëanor stood up, stepping closer into her workspace.

His eyes dropped to her hands that daily conquered stone and clay.

He fantasized, not for the first time, about those heavy hands handling his body with the same uncompromising strength she used to break marble.

"Careful, prince, do not get too close to the site," Nerdanel warned, her gaze flicking slowly over the length of him. "With such a narrow waist, I might accidentally break you in half if I stumble."

Fëanor’s breath hitched.

A thrill ran down his spine at the image.

“Mercy, Nerdanel,” he murmured. “You cannot say things like that to me."

I never thought I would write this pair lmao complete version on AO3 (487 words)

I mean, the first one's idea of colour is almost finished, so people will go with that one. If you want people to vote for the second one, colours would need to be more defined?? Idk man. Second one needs a bit of a lighter background. I like both, so to compensate, I will say second. 10/10 drawing.

Oh I see…Thank you for your advice!In fact I just add shadow and hightlight the blood at thr first one,maybe the contrast makes it looks finished. I drew this picture about Maglor was badly hurt by Morgoth, So I did this with the first picture to emphasize this point.

To be honest…I like them too so I decided to finished them both now.🥰

#silmarillion #maglor #silmarillion fanart

1 or 2？