#murazor

[ttrtru]

oi i needa say i'm deeply in lovvv with yo Nazgul lore it's a real yum and HELL IT'S INSPIRING ASF oki i won't say things everyone says...... i'll better yell about HELLA MURAZOR👹👹👹 the shkrunkly shcrimblo....... i wanna......... do things to this mofo.......

his curls look like cat ears CHANGE MY MIND

Thank you so much for this reply, it really made my day when I got your message of such optimism and energy!! Love your sexy guys!

[junk-whunk-punk]

@ttrtru iiiiii really dunno how to attack back😔 but Purrazor stuck in ma head owww this shmol fluffer acting weird around Master and making engine sounds🫴

[kayleidoscopic]

So, erm, I've reread Tal-Elmar and going around some wikis I discovered he apparently met Mûrazôr when de guy was younger and at war with his dad... (obviously not canon stuff) but erm...

I made awful drawings, this time digital.

Also Adûnazil (Adûnaphel's uncle and evil advisor) and Ciryamir (Akhôrahil's father) Atanamir (not King yet) and Tar-Ciryatan. (Obv it's MERP related but I love Numenoreans far too much)

Also

Sorcerer prince and his evil advisor.

And my Diva Atanamir (rings of power meme reference)

[overlord-of-fantasy]

Nazgul need friends too

Witch king: Khamul, you're my best friend. Khamul: Best friend? BEST friend?! Bitch, I'm your only friend. Khamul: I'M THE ONLY ONE CAPABLE OF TOLERATING YOUR DUMB ASS!

[menelvagor]

Er-Mûrazôr

The Witch-King of Angmar & Lord of the Nazgûl - once a Prince of Anadûnê & Self-Proclaimed King of Umbar

The Black Prince was born in the port city of Andúnië, Númenor. He was the second son of King Tar-Ciryatan and the younger brother of Tar-Atanamir the Great. His father sought great wealth and sent his fleets to Middle-earth in order to exact tribute. Both his sons embraced the benefits of his ruthless policies. Mûrazôr left home to found his own empire in the vulnerable expanse of Middle-earth. His ships dropped anchor in Umbar, where the Númenórean Lord proclaimed himself “King.” Although successful in wresting control from the local colonists, he ruled only for a few months.

“Come not between the Nazgûl and his prey! Or he will not slay thee in thy turn. He will bear thee away to the houses of lamentation, beyond all darkness, where thy flesh shall be devoured, and thy shriveled mind be left naked to the Lidless Eye.“

I made the latter edit a while ago but saw Witch-King in a prompt for @numenorweek Day 5: The King's Men | The Ban of the Valar so I'll just post it now!

[cilil]

Summer Stories

AN: Inspired by a conversation with @sauron-kraut. For this one I decided to use the name Murazor for WK (and yes, that's why yesterday's shitpost happened, with autocorrect calling him mutation, murder and razor).

Prompt: Lost | Mairon x Witch King Synopsis: He is not the first to be ensnared by those golden eyes. Warnings: /

A shawl conceals his hair, though Murazor knows well the copper locks hidden underneath. 

A veil covers the lower half of his face, yet through the sheer fabric he sees the elegant curve of full lips, smiling. 

Long sleeves fall over his hands, obscuring elegantly folded hands. Murazor remembers long fingers, adorned with countless rings. 

Uncovered are his eyes, blazing, fiery, precious gold, the heat of light and flame trapped in their gaze, deathless and imperishable. Their beauty lures, their radiance burns. 

They leave him charred, breathless, crumbling to ash, yet ever hungering for even a passing glance from Mairon. 

Thanks for reading! ♡

taglist: @angbangbaby @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @blauerregen @bluezenzennie @destinyeternity1

@edensrose @elanna-elrondiel @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @just-little-human

@melkors-defense-attorney @numenhore @sauron-kraut @urwendii @wandererindreams

[ttrtru]

I can't believe I'm still continuing this but it's April Fools again.

Past April Fools comics

2024 "I'm getting married" 2023 (no comic) 2022 “My arm came off” 2021 “I’m going to die soon” 2020 “I’ve betrayed you” 2019 “I hate you” 2018 “I’m pregnant”

The one page versions are below the cut as per usual.

[amorreo]

So I made this with @kayleidoscopic 's design

They are, in order

Murazor (angmar), Khamul, Dwar, Indur, Akhorahil, Homurath, Andunaphel, Ren, Uvatha

Adûnazil

[menelvagor]

Er-Mûrazôr looked upon the other man, head held proudly but eyes cast the slightest height down to him. "Scarce but for the accounts of thyself and those perhaps of the Faithful that escaped from the wrath of Êru himself?" He looked away again, surveying the bustling town about them as the shadow of his presence loomed still over the place - an unfortunate result of his bestowal of power and knowledge of the dark arts so that he might serve his Lord most fitfully. Yet this power he would not trade for anything, even if would mean their task carried out more swiftly.

"We must paint the accounts of our enemies in Gondor as lies - only for them to seek utter control of these lands once more, now that their isle is drowned. Ar-Pharazôn painted as a more worthy ruler would aid this. For those that have come, have no claim."

"I have noticed the folk here grow weary of mine presence if I tarry too long. Methinks the devising of such webs of deceit to lay shouldst be woven by thee, Mordú. Such honeyed words canst thou speak to them, to ease their troubled minds. Soothe those who wouldst seek to struggle for their supposed freedom."

Even as he seemed to speak praise to the priest, his words came out coldly. His name dripped from his tongue in scorn. Never would admittance come from him willingly, but this skill of speaking he had grown ever jealous of, especially as it brought the others' worth to the Dark Lord and status very near his own.

"Yet if there are some that may not heed thy words, Gúrzyul, I would bring them to submission of worship - and not least obedience - of our lord and his. Even steadfast leaders will quell beneath my power and succumb to their terror."

@putrefacerem

cool  eyes  gleam  as  icicles  in  the  setting  sun,  their  glare  narrowing  to  perceive  the  welling  of  er-mûrazôr's  power.  neither  here  nor  there,  mordú  had  begun  to  develop  a  sense  for  the  Unseen  after  his  bleeding  and  the  damning  immortality  such  a  profane  act  brought.  a  living  man—  YET  WITH  A  TAINT  STAINING  THE  SANCTITY  OF  HIS  SOUL  BORN  OF  AN  ACT  NE'ER  ATTEMPTED  BEFORE.  this  here  is  a  game  mordú  finds  himself  unfamiliar  with.  truthfully  he  does  not  doubt  that  he  will  navigate  these  waters  just  fine,  yet  to  posture  and  make  himself  small  before  another  had  never  been  required  of  him  before.  as  a  dôlguzîr  and  a  sage  he  needed  not  bow  to  anyone—  but  westernesse  is  no  more,  and  er-mûrazôr  is  a  storm  waiting  to  be  unleashed.  taunting  him  or  tempting  his  ire  seems  most  unwise.

❛  indeed.  he  was  brought  as  a  prisoner,  and  knowledge  of  what  hath  truly  transpired  upon  the  isle  is  scarce  now.  terror  remains  a  stench  along  the  length  of  this  here  coast,  where  all  felt  the  tremble  and  groan  of  the  earth  itself.  we  may  spin  the  tale  as  we  need  it,  milord.  much  as  i  art  loathe  to  do  such  a  thing  now,  ar-pharazôn  might  verily  be  painted  a  hero.  who  set  sails  westwards,  seeking  to  treat  with  the  lords  and  ladies  of  arda.  but  lo,  no  edain  is  worthy  to  lay  claim  to  the  eternal  shores.

❛  however,  we  wouldst  be  prudent  to  consider  that  the  umbarim  remain  an  industrious  people,  and  art  possessed  with  great  love  of  their  freedom.  freedom  they  now  have  in  truth,  with  our  beloved  nation  'neath  the  waters.  we  must  make  it  palatable  to  them  also—  gauge  the  climate  within  city  walls.  let  us  not  waste  energy  on  those  who  will  not  hear  us.  let  us  rather  win  the  love  of  simple  folk,  of  whom  there  are  many.  people  will  rise  for  the  right  promises,  as  thou  knoweth.  ❜

[kayleidoscopic]

Adûnaphel and her uncle ft Mûrazôr.

[silvermp]

LotR x Danny Phantom crossover

Whispers of the silmarils quickly passed between the smaller drakes, spines rattling in excitement. Terrible gossips, all of them.

“The witch-king.” One of the drakes whispered, and it bounced back through the mouths of the rest. “Angmar, to the south. Gorthaur’s servant, Lord of the Nazgûl.”

Niquis stretched her great wings and nodded.

“Yes, if any shadow has seen a gleam of the Silmaril, Murazor of Angmar would know.”

[menelvagor]

Blue eyes looked up from the worn leather book that rested on her thighs, her head turning to the side as the throne room doors opened. She moved her legs off the arm of Mairon's throne, and sat up straighter as the book closed itself and vanished into thin air. "You must be Er-Mûrazôr. Our lord, Tar-Mairon's prior meeting has run behind schedule, he asked for me to see that you were well received and provided any refreshment you may need."

Er-Mûrazôr entered the throne room of his Lord and the Lady (whom he had not yet met, but had been told - or warned - about) and could not help but to stare. He was struck by the disrespect this gesture had, the lady's legs over the side of her husband's throne. None else would dare. He retained a neutral expression and bowed before her as she addressed him.

"My lady," he said after a moment, "most gracious am I to be received by thee, and most honored am I to hath finally met thee."

His armored hand rested upon the pommel of the sword at his side. He was still arraigned with the garb which he wore when interacting with folk who were not of the powers of the Maiar or the Eldar, able to see his true form. For now, this was mainly the Orcs. Now he was covered all in black with a crown. "Hath my lord indicated how long he might be?"

[menelvagor]

Er-Mûrazôr glimpsed up into the orangey-gold gaze of Hel, but turned right away again, even as he felt more of her power coursing into him, this time with healing. His pain began to cease, slowly, as he curled into her body and embrace. It did not cause him to give up on the wracks of his body and churning of his soul, but the feeling of stabbing knives lessened and he sighed raggedly.

He did not have to wonder at her strength to hold him, for he knew well of it - especially now.

He did doubt, though, that he would ever be well now, or would return to the life he knew. He could not be well, not ever again, unless by some miracle of the Kings and Queens of the West. If anything, the only one who could reach him now would be the King of the Darkness, lord of the Void. From whom his dear master had learned of the dark songs of corruption, which he passed to his own apprentice.

What a waste it would have been for this glorious wraith - the most powerful, deadly, loyal servant to Sauron the Great and in turn Morgoth the Powerful - to perish because of an imbibing of power from one akin to the Unmarred. So much power and energy could not be thrown out so easily.

The wraith thrashed about again as Hel thought to herself about his well-being, and he had little of his own thoughts right this moment.

Well and better than he had been before, he would be. With the prayer by the goddess, and such wishes granted by an ancient, dark power. One that was more enduring and powerful than any else, save that of The One and Amân. The power of the darkness now covered and corrupted that given by Hel, settling into the crevices of Mûrazôr's mind and spirit. His strength and power were now heightened, and his eyes flashed open.

His body shuddered violently and blood dribbled out from his lips again, before he ceased movement. This was so for several moments until with strong arms, he pushed Hel away from him and rolled over onto the floor before looking up at her with newly glowing eyes.

She felt the tug on her sleeve and her eyes opened to him. The most vivid and intense orange as she fretted and crooned over her newest pet. His expression told her all that she need know. He is in pain.

He is in pain and she has the means to numb it. She smiled and leaned low to rest her chin on his hair as she imbued him now with the power that already overwhelmed his physical form but with the magic she had learned direct from Estë. Healing. Soothing. Calming.

She inhaled, surprised and horrified as he crumpled. Small hands were fast to gather him up at the same time as she sunk low. Her grasp was strong as she cradled him against her. No further to fall than the floor, the Valarinda was.. somewhat comforted. The only hurt he might feel was from within. The rest she could soften.

And she hoped to soften the whatever was left too.

"It's alright," She replied, barely a whisper as she tried to heal wounds that were neither physical or external. "You will be well."

Quietly, to her own self, she hoped with all that she had, that he would be more. Better than well. Better than he had been. She closed her eyes as she settled her chin against his hair. She did not call to Eru. This was.. not the request he answered. And she did not call to her kin. But she called to.. something. Something grandiose and powerful. Ever hopeful that that something, that someone, might her her plea and make her words true.

May he be well.

Fear ran deep in her cold and emptied veins. The fear that she had simply killed him. And all of this amounted to nothing.

[annatars-nine-rings]

Commission of Sauron and the Witch King of Angmar (Murazor) kneeling in obedience

Done for my by:

[thatsitewithstuff]

Trying to see if they are distinguishable even if they all had short hair.

Names are below just in case my handwritings are illegible

Murazor, Khamul, Dwar Indur, Akhorahil, Hoarmurath Adunaphel, Ren, Uvatha Urzahil(Mouth), Celedhring, Mairon

First 3 rows are the MERP Nazgul

Murazor, Akhorahil, Adunaphel and Urzahil are all suppose to be the same race(Numenorean)

Adunaphel is a female

I assume that the Nazgul looks to be in their prime to each other

This was all inspired by this art by Ryoko Kui, I love her stuff, go and read "Delicious in Dungeon" and her shorts, now

[kanellebullar]

Murazor - The Witch King of Angmar