“Gil Galad Is Fingon’s Son” “Gil Galad Is Angrod’s Son” WRONG

Maedhros and Maglor, enjoying the music and being cute ✨

@maedhrosmaglorweek

Saw this post on Instagram the other day, so ...

Well hello, Mr hair commander 😌

Day #213 - Project

Looks like Mae and Finno found the crochet

“The day has come! Behold, people of the Eldar and Fathers of Men, the day has come!”

@endeavoringdaydreamer, here you go! 🦀

Crablor giving autographs for @thescrapwitch, inspired by the concluding scene of her amazing fic Little Crab on the Big Stage. If you haven't already, go read it, it's one of my favourites!

a small gift for my lovely friend @playing-with-inks !! i know how much you love little Fingon and Maedhros, so here's a scene of conductor finno ft. his star musician maitimo, a coat stolen borrowed from him, doting fathers and an orchestra of stuffies belonging to assorted cousins

when I showed it to her in DMs, she pointed out that I usually draw Mae with a braid only after the Nirnaeth Arnododoedid (based on one of my headcanons) and then asked if this is a flashback from his POV, or a dream/hallucination of their happier childhood. after reading that i couldnt help myself so here is a bonus based on her astute observations 👀

“Nobody will ever know what it is like for them. The Valar tell nobody of it. But Elwing and Maedhros fall into this strange, unnatural rhythm. Sometimes it feels like they are laying down and longing to die. Other times, it is all that keeps them alive. Each night, the moon climbs the trees, an aloof observer. The two of them begin uncurling out from themselves and into each other like pressed-together seeds in the cold earth. An unasked-for hybridisation.”

thought today’s sickbed sketch was cute enough to share, so enjoy desert island frenemies-with-benefits Elwing and Maedhros, as seen in my fic The Island Dwellers where they explore each other’s bodies for the sole purpose of fucking with the Valar 😇

Day #190 - Rescuer

Playing with (slightly) different styles today

“Oh brown haired man with a lightsome air So blithe and bright and fair Each tuesday when I trysted thee again All the week was worth to me And so young were we when first found love Found ourselves in the hazel grove Oh brown haired man with a witching smile Full of love and free from guile So soft beneath the lonely hawthorn tree Came thy whispered truth to me I’ll be with thee, my brown haired man In the sunshine or the shade I’ll bring times of bliss to thee So sweet thy kisses were to me And thy voice was melody” Brown haired Man - Sava