seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Netherlands
seen from China
seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Egypt
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Netherlands
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from France
seen from Italy
seen from Indonesia
seen from United States
meme * / @durnaar
❛ You did ? Here I thought you didn’t even recall my name . ❜ & he was , perhaps , feeling bold . There was an extent he was willing to go , but no further . Betraying his kind in order to kill Men were one thing , but destroying his own kin ? ... No . Unacceptable .
@durnaar
♚ ♚ ♚
The Golden King of Anadûnê had fallen far, far down already from the high pedestal on which he had placed himself when first confronting the Dark Lord Sauron. He had brought the terrible yet fair Maia from her fortress in Mordor back to his castle in Armenelos, where he had kept her hidden from the world. Her influence, however, had seeped into the once high and mighty city and her sweet, cunning words cut into Ar-Pharazôn’s mind. He had intended to make her submit to his rule and will, and believed that to be as fate had allowed, yet it was not so.
His desperation for a salvation from his impending doom of the dark and uncertain death had drawn him into Sauron. From her lips had come reassurance and comfort, telling him that there was a way to break free of the doom place upon Men by the Valar and Eru himself. Her solution was worship to Melkor, the Lord of Darkness; a new god whom could grant Ar-Pharazôn and the King’s Men freedom and a chance at the immortality and journeys west that they had longed for so greatly.
The worship of the new Dark Lord and the Darkness was a practice first only kept to the King himself and his chief advisor Sauron. He had wished to see for himself first what this new practice would entail, and contemplated ‘pon Melkor and what Sauron promised would be done through faith in him. His mind he had already subconsciously submitted to the fair words of the Maia.
“What would thou have me do?” he asked her, interest glittering in his darkened eyes. “What doth the Dark Lord wish for us to do in order to praise him sufficiently?”
‘don’t mistake coincidence for fate.’
A meme.@durnaar
❝ After everything... it’s difficult not to believe some things are fate. ❞ So much he’s been through, alongside matters which he cannot even recall, all seeming to conspire of their own will to give him the life he ( more or less ) contentedly lives today. And all of that--- all of any of their lives today--- hinges on the history of their entire world, accounts of which he’s read over quite a few times now, in his travels.
There are some things, he’s convinced, which occurred almost too perfectly to be mere coincidence.
❝ But I do wonder how one can know in the present; whether something is coincidence, or more. ❞ There he glances around, seeming at ease, though he can feel her in a way, and the FAMILIARITY of that feeling sends a subtle shudder through him. It’s odd, but so is he--- and so is she. Still, he will be wary, until given reason not to be. ❝ Do you not believe in such things? ❞
... ❝ @durnaar ; ( AULË STARTER CALL ⚒ )
“MAIRON.” OH BUT THIS ONE IS NOT Mairon any longer. At least not in the sense that she was the one the Vala had considered daughter. But he will try it’s in his nature to never give up. “Please... come HOME.”
His pulse rumbled with the clap of thunder. It filled his ears as winter gales did lungs. Aragorn, however, would neither shake nor tremble, cold with heady dread despite sweltering in sweat. The grand and lofty trees seemed ablaze in Her foul embers, and the heat singed his skin in a pitch of fever dreams. The Ranger laid in the clearing, breaths labored and ill. The poison of the orcs was laying claim to Thorongil. Now – was this real? – over there, She so loomed. A great evil. The One Evil. The Lord of all abhorred. “There is no power you hold over me,” came the Ranger’s sickly babble. “Not even in this hour.”
@durnaar, the Deceiver.
(@durnaar liked this for a starter)
Only the metallic echo of his greaves over the black basalt of the Barad-dûr corridor could be heard. A barrier of silence turned the black fortress into a refuge of discordant whispers, while outside, the moans and screams of the tortured souls that clung with their last drops of life to the mundane existence that bound them to this world composed a nocturne of pain. Everything was over, Middle-Earth had its new master, although there were still leftovers from the free peoples. Although how much could they endure? The golden pastures of Rohan burned at an exorbitant speed, while in Gondor citizens resorted to cannibalism to survive. In the north, the Dale-Lands had been ravaged and the mountain dwarves delivered as tribute to the dragons of the northern desert. He had fulfilled his part, and now, she should fulfill hers.
The Lôke-Khan entered the throne room. If he had ever been afraid, he did not remember. His soul had petrified and his heart was beating colder than the ice of the north. As he walked closer to the throne he saw the silhouette similar to that of a human woman in the distance; it was no longer a torch covered with rings of fire, but rather a beautiful and cruel Goddess of darkness, and the coveted one ring gleamed in her right hand. Beside her, eight hooded figures watched him approach with invisible eyes; He predicted that his leader was busy, but he was wrong. The Lôke-Khan of Rhûn prostrated himself before the throne and bowed deeply.
--- "Glory to the great eye..." --- he said and got up to return to observe the servants of his goddess. --- "One, two, three ... eight ... What happened to the ninth?"
❝for the love poured to THE DARK LORD was what lead HER to continue his legacy after he fell. ❞
↳ trick or treat! 🎃 - ACCEPTING! ( PERSONAL BLOGS DO NOT REBLOG. ) ( @durnaar )
@durnaar 🖤 ‘d this for a starter
Drawn to the strength that vibrates from them, a wave after another that stills heart as it is passed through. Lifting gaze from stonework of the flooring she meets hollowed gaze. She knows better than to make enemies now, has learned her lesson when scorned once too many. Hood lowered, golden tresses bathing in the light of living fire.
❛ I’ve dreamt you. ❜
