𝑳𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑵𝑨𝒁𝑮𝑼𝑳

  𝑵𝑶𝑾 𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑨𝑺 𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑨𝑮𝑨𝑰𝑵, 𝑩𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑹𝑼𝑰𝑵, 𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑯𝑶𝑷𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑫𝑬𝑺𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑹, 𝑨𝑵𝑫  𝑽𝑰𝑪𝑻𝑶𝑹𝒀 𝑻𝑶 𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯.

[hunarya]

suddenly  into  view  below  came  a  white  horse,  gleaming  in  the  shadows,  running  swiftly.  in  the  dusk  its  headstall  flickered  and  flashed,  as  if  it  were  studded  with  gems  like  living  stars.  the  rider's  cloak  streamed  behind  him,  and  his  hood  was  thrown  back;  his  golden  hair  flowed  shimmering  in  the  wind  of  his  speed  ….  it  appeared  that  white  light  was  shining  through  the  form  and  raiment  of  the  rider,  as  if  though  through  a  thin  veil.

                   independent  ,  private  ,  and  selective  lord  glorfindel  of  tolkien’s  legendarium.  by  arien.

[hunarya]

suddenly  into  view  below  came  a  white  horse,  gleaming  in  the  shadows,  running  swiftly.  in  the  dusk  its  headstall  flickered  and  flashed,  as  if  it  were  studded  with  gems  like  living  stars.  the  rider's  cloak  streamed  behind  him,  and  his  hood  was  thrown  back;  his  golden  hair  flowed  shimmering  in  the  wind  of  his  speed  ….  it  appeared  that  white  light  was  shining  through  the  form  and  raiment  of  the  rider,  as  if  though  through  a  thin  veil.

                   independent  ,  private  ,  and  selective  lord  glorfindel  of  tolkien’s  legendarium.  by  arien.

[felutar]

*bells approaching rapidly.mp3*

[felutar]

    thinking abt Him

[worsesights-blog]

abstract prompts

25   prompts   inspired   by   this   meme

I walked into the river and sunk like a stone.

Are you sorry for everything you’ve done?

I can look past the grey cold to the buds that sprout from the oak tree on the lawn.

Over-steeped tea that you drank anyway.

There are things hiding beneath the mountains.

Like convicts in prison cells.

I have spent twenty years sinking into the mud.

The taste lingering on your tongue.

Salt in a wound.

A field burned to ash.

I feel like Ariadne.

Watching the waves roll out to sea.

When the raspberries ripen.

There are places where people eat their dead.

I couldn’t breathe for the way you held my hand.

I have died twice already.

Crashing into a cliff face.

A handful of drug-store brand painkillers.

There’s a ring on your finger.

Candles on the living room floor.

We could both hear his voice ringing in our ears.

When the war finally ends.

We have always been on opposite sides.

I wanted so badly to believe.

We could choose each other.

[felutar]

            *whispers*  this is a starter call

[felutar]

            SHE  IS  BOUND  BY  SOME  UNSEEN  FORCE,  CHAINED  FOREVER  TO  THE  RUINS  OF  HER  KINGDOM.    the  ancient  seat  of  elros’  line  is  desolate,  once  great  pillars  of  marble  crumbling  and  grayed,  nature  growing  through  cracks  in  the  stones  to  reclaim  the  palace,  slowly  pulling  it  back  into  the  dirt,  but  even  as  time  marches,  claiming  the  memory  of  númenór,  she  remains,  cursed  to  walk  the  once - drowned  cities  halls  for  the  rest  of  her  eternity.  a  curse  for  her  arrogance,  her  defiance,  for  even  as  the  great  wave  blanketed  the  island  in  its  shadow,  she  refused  a  ring.  it  had  been  many  thousands  of  years  since  then,  long  enough  that  the  sea  finally  receded  and  revealed  the  forgotten ruins,  and  waking  her  spirit  with  it.  she  has  wandered  the  bounds  of  the  island  since,  equally  cursed  and  blessed  with  her  solitude.  at  times  she  has  looked  to  the  distant  shores  and  longed  to  be  freed,  but  so  long  as  her  soul  was  bound  to  the  island,  she  would  remain.

            she  feels  it  the  moment  a  new  presence  arrives,  atmosphere  shifting  as  the  sea  allows  a  new  soul  passage  to  the  shore.  she says  goodbye  to  the  overgrown  jungle  of  the  gardens  and  runs  as  if  the  deceiver  himself  is  on  her  heels,  stopping  as  she  reaches  the  main  hall.  her  footsteps  are  silent  against  the  stone  floors,  and  she  pauses  a  moment  at  the  foot  of  the  throne,  struck  by  the  silver  of  the  womans  hair  (  in  all  her  stories,   the  elves  were  silver   and  gold  ),  but  looking  beyond  that  she  feels  something  else.  her  only  true  experience  with  magic  had  been  the  deceiver,  but  this  woman  radiated  an  entirely  different  energy    ❝    stop  there    ❞    her  voice  is  hoarse  from  thousands  of  years  of  disuse,  and  as  she  uses  it  she  can  still  feel  the  saltwater  in  her   lungs    ❝    this  place  is  cursed  and  barren,  there  is  nothing  here  for  you    ❞

@starszakrew​    /    sc

[felutar]

            THE  WESTEROSI  SUN  BEARS  HEAVILY  DOWN  ON  THE  COURT,  THOUGH  NOT  SO  HARSHLY  AS  IT  DID  IN  HER  OWN  HOME,    númenór,  she  had  traveled  far  from  her  home  island,  yet  she  could  smell  the  sweet  sea  air  and  the  blossoms  from  the  royal  gardens,  ever  in  her  heart  no  matter  where  her  travels  took  her.  some  had  called  her  trip  ill - advised,  her  people  held  little  love  for  the  blood  of  valyria  anymore,  thought  its  magic  and  blood  was  coveted  even  after  its  doom,  and  some  feared  that  their  crown  princess  was  searching  for  a  foreign  husband,  a  weak  willed  westerosi  to  bend  more  easily  to  her  will,  but  the  truth  of  her  expedition  was  far  simpler  than  that.  

            miriel  was  merely  curious,  much  of  her  childhood  had  been  spent  studying  the  histories  of  the  world,  of  númenór  and  the  empire  that  mothered  it,  she’d  wondered  as  a  child  what  the  world  had  looked  like  when  dragons  reigned,  and  though  valyria  was  naught  but  a  cursed  wasteland,  westeros  remained  as  the  last  echo  of  the  empire,  ruled  by  the  noblest  of  its  descendants.  but  are  they  so  noble  now  ?  she  chastises herself  mentally  for  thinking  so  uncharitably  of  her  hosts,  for  though  they  were  not  the  dragon  lords  of  her  childhood  fairy - tales  any  longer,  they  were  still  proud  and  possessed  an  ethereal  sort  of  beauty,  the  princess  rhaella  most  of  all.  of  all  the  royal  family,  the  princess had  become  a  quick  favorite,  and  she  enjoyed  the  girls  company  over  her  more  haughty  relatives.  they  sit  together  now,  high  above  the  rest  of  the  court  in  the  banquet  hall     ❝    forgive  me  if  i  judge  them  too  harshly,  but  the  men  of  westeros  seem  to  think  me  a  fell  creature    ❞    her  voice  is  low,  near  a  whisper  so  only  rhaella  can  hear  her  above  the  noise  of  the  music  and  dancers    ❝    i  go  to  ask  for  a  dance  and  they  scatter  like  mice  !  am  i  truly  so  daunting  ?    ❞    she  feigns  despair,  but  her  eyes  dance  with  amusement.  miriel  was  tall,  even  among  the  women  of  númenór,  and  it  seemed  the  lords  of  westeros,  for  all  that  they  were  pulled  in  by  her  beauty,  did  not  know  how  to  approach  her.

@rhaelluna​    /    sc

[l-otr]

Sauron by insant

Sauron was originally a Maia of Aulë the Smith; his name then was Mairon, meaning “the admirable”.  

[felutar]

            *whispers*  this is a starter call

[felutar]

            for maglor: alexander vlahos or luke pasqualino

[felutar]

              when i decide on a url for maglor or maedhros its OVER

[worsesights-blog]

abstract prompts

25   prompts   inspired   by   this   meme

I walked into the river and sunk like a stone.

Are you sorry for everything you’ve done?

I can look past the grey cold to the buds that sprout from the oak tree on the lawn.

Over-steeped tea that you drank anyway.

There are things hiding beneath the mountains.

Like convicts in prison cells.

I have spent twenty years sinking into the mud.

The taste lingering on your tongue.

Salt in a wound.

A field burned to ash.

I feel like Ariadne.

Watching the waves roll out to sea.

When the raspberries ripen.

There are places where people eat their dead.

I couldn’t breathe for the way you held my hand.

I have died twice already.

Crashing into a cliff face.

A handful of drug-store brand painkillers.

There’s a ring on your finger.

Candles on the living room floor.

We could both hear his voice ringing in our ears.

When the war finally ends.

We have always been on opposite sides.

I wanted so badly to believe.

We could choose each other.

[felutar]

[iracor-deactivated20260416]

            HIATUS NOTICE  !!    there is a lot going on for me irl that’s been keeping me from writing,  but more recently there have been some personal issues that have come up and while i try to work through it im going to be stepping away from rp for a couple weeks,  just to see how i feel later.  it’s very difficult for me to think about writing right now,  and i just need a little time.

[felutar]

           JUST WANTED TO DROP IN AND APOLOGIZE FOR THE INACTIVITY  !  i’ve been working  constantly  lately so i haven’t had much energy to sit down and write,  along with some other irl things that have been keeping my attention away,  but i have tuesday and wednesday off so i will try to use at least one of those days to catch up  !

[felutar]

            i’ll  do  the  rest  of  those  starters / replies  tomorrow  !