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nerdyqueerr · 4 years

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I haven't read the inheritance cycle in a damn long time but

I vaguely remember enough that I wanna talk about it so headcanon time I guess?

As I've said before, Angela is and will always be a true aroace icon

If I recall there's a thing abt elves using magic to ~☆change their bodie☆~ which just... the Trans Potential of it all... anyways Arya trans lesbian now

On that note, Eragon? Nonbinary, uses he/they. Doesn't rly realise until That Scene where they become like? Part elf? Idk memorie’s blurry anyways their body sorta changes right? And during that transformation they subconsciously make small changes that help with their dysphoria and at first they're rly confused but Arya and other nonbinary elves/dwarves/even urgals help them out :) I just think it's neat

If yall have seen that post abt like elf androginy vs dwarf androginy vs orc androginy anyways that with the elves, dwarves and urgals. Like idk I just want to think about Eragon getting to understand their gender better once they spend time with the rebellion so yeah.

Also poly rights for like all of the fantasy races bc again I just think it's neat. Islanzadí had a wife and a husband (but they both died... her canon husband is dead, right?)

The old guy... what the fuck was his name... Oromis? Bitch with the golden dragon anyways he's the epitome of distinguished gay

Nasuada ace lesbian godess I can't rly think of anything else for her tho except I remember loving her which means she can’t possibly be straight

Murtagh. Trans man. Disaster bisexual. I have an Idea for him post-canon in which he takes a "vacation” and spends time with pirates (more on the pirates later) and comes back with a boyfriend. Head full. Many ideas.

Solembum is a cat. Defining gender and sexuality does not matter to Solembum.

Galbatorix and Sloan are home of phobic :/ Nasuada spends a lot of time undoing all the shitty homophobic laws Galbatorix made. Sloan is just a dick.

Pirates! I remember being rly sad that the book canon didn't elaborate more on how the Big Ocean is rife with pirates... it's probably just me being horny for the pirate aesthetic anyways my one dragon rider OC was a pirate I just think theyre neat. And as we all know pirates always say gay rights.

Just take a moment to think of the architectural wonders elves and dwarves could make if they worked together. Now think about all the places in alagaesia that have been damaged/destroyed. Thank u for coming to my Ted Talk.

So yeah like I said I haven't read em in a long while, I think most of these have just been collecting dust in my brain and idk why but I finally decided to write them down lmao

#haha no one needed these #but #i wanted to put them out there #so yeah #the inheritance cycle #eragon

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starfrckled-a · 4 years

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𝙰 𝙼𝚄𝙻𝚃𝙸 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙴 𝚂𝚄𝚁𝚅𝙴𝚈

CANON MUSES

name of your favorite muse: oh no. I literally don’t know how to answer this.

name of your very first muse: in general, it was demetri volturi. on tumblr ?? back when I had single blogs.. it was either james potter or elia martell.

name of your meanest muse: durza, without a doubt. I have a few nasty ones, but he ( or they, I guess ) takes the top.

name of your nicest muse: it’s probably euphemia, or baldor !

name of your most troubled muse: ah, that’s though. aeron, followed closely by thoros, oromis and luke.

character you have the most muse for atm: I guess tywin, han, aro, euphemia and the ones I am about to add.

two of your muses that would never get along: I am not going to be obvious and say oromis and durza. so thoros and aeron.. thoros would even try to be civil and aeron would just try to put his head under water.

two of your muses that could be best friends: baldor and qarl !!

two of your muses that would make a cute couple: uhhh, qarl and arianne maybe ??

two of your muses that are most similar: james and han, probably.

name of the muse you’d be best friends with irl: baldor ! he’s so nice and loyal, I know he would be a reliable friend. I would totally be able to trust him.

name of the muse you’d probably hate irl: ahahah tywin. the urge to punch him in the face would be real.

a faceclaim you’ve been eager to use: anya chalotra ( to be fair, I am likely going to use for arianne so hey ) , amanda zhou , keanu reeves . I blame amanda on spinning out and keanu.... is my fan cast for a character I would love to add, if only the rpc existed ( it’s mister d.avid w.ymack from all for the game, yes ).

OC MUSES

name of your favorite muse:

name of your very first muse:

name of your meanest muse:

name of your nicest muse:

name of your most troubled muse:

character you have the most muse for atm:

two of your muses that would never get along:

two of your muses that could be best friends:

two of your muses that would make a cute couple:

two of your muses that are most similar:

name of the muse you’d be best friends with irl:

name of the muse you’d probably hate irl:

a faceclaim you’ve been eager to use:

tagged by : @praeludio <3

tagging : @misbehavc , @aclastra, @mangaien , @wildtruths and whoever wants to !!

#› gen ╱ games

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merry-agaeti-blodhren · 5 years

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Agaethi Blodhren - Part 5

The Knucklebones (for @anhufflepuffhobbit from @problematic-maverick)

Word Count: 1673

Rating: Probably G, check the warnings in case

Characters: Angela, OFC (Angela’s mother), OMC (Angela’s father, briefly), OMC (Oromis’ father, briefly), Oromis (briefly), Glaedr (briefly), Solembum (briefly), Vrael (mentioned), Evandar (mentioned)

Warnings: OC Death, slight angst

Summary: Angela’s early life (up to about age twenty). I would like to maybe expand on this in the future, if @anhufflepuffhobbit is amenable to it.

It was her mother who taught her to use the knucklebones.

She was four, maybe five when she first stumbled into her mother’s study while she was reading a future. As usual, her mother was sitting behind the desk, with a small smile veiled behind a more serious expression, hiding in the crinkles round her eyes. What was unusual was the tall man with long silver-white hair sitting in front of her.

“You are still willing?” she asked the man.

He gave only a gentle incline of his head, but that seemed to be enough for her, as she dropped something- several things, actually- from her hand. Three words slipped from her mother’s lips, each landing heavily. The power around them was clear, yet as she watched, she could still hear the gentle tinkling as seven pale objects settled on the hard wood of the desk.

Her soft gasp drew her mother’s gaze, and she frantically gestured to her to leave.

She hurried out and sat leaning against the corridor wall, her thoughts still tangled, the clink of the items still echoing in her mind. She was only interrupted by the creaking door opening to let the man and her mother out.

Leaping up, she looked straight into the man’s eyes and solemnly declared, “I like your hair.”

His eyes twinkled and he smiled, and replied just as seriously. “I like yours too. My name is Glídrin. May I ask yours?”

“Angela,” she stated. “My name is Angela.”

When she was eleven, her mother called her up to the study. Apprehension stirred in her gut, she had no idea what she’d done this time, but it had to be something big.

She climbed the smooth, polished steps up to the third floor slowly, dreading the scolding undoubtedly waiting at their top. But when she opened the hefty oaken door, she was greeted with one of her mother’s rare, openly soft smiles.

“You’ve always been interested in my knucklebones, haven’t you?” she started, and her eyes were pulled to the seven creamy-white cuboids arrayed on the desk. The smile widened. “Do you want to know how to use them?”

Of course she did. She sat down opposite her mother, and watched, enthralled, as her mother gathered the bones, closed her eyes. The shadows on her lips flickered slightly, before opening and, once again, freeing the three words. This time she concentrated on them.

Manin, Wyrda, Hugin. Memory, Fate, Thought.

The words remained in the air, even as it was fragmented by the chimes of the bones.

Her mother’s eyes met hers, even as she swept the bones off the table, concealing their predictions. “The words represent the past, the future, and the present. By taking the advice of the past, we can understand the possible paths of the future, and the bones channel these, so that we can know now what will happen later.” She must have seen the confusion in her eyes, because she offered the bones to her. “You will understand better when you try.”

She took them and summoned the words to her mind, envisioned them tumbling from her lips as the dice tumbled from her hands. “Manin, Wyrda, Hugin.”

There was no power behind them, and the bones clunked heavily on the surface. Something had gone wrong.

Her mother shook her head. “These words are your links to time, not just trinkets with little significance. Use them like they meansomething.”

She tried again, pouring all her concentration into the six syllables. “Manin! Wyrda! Hugin!”

Still nothing. The bones did not sing like they were meant to.

“You do not yet understand the passage of magic. Maybe I was wrong, and you are too young.” There was not despair or disappointment in her mother’s voice, only a calm acceptance.

“No, give me one last chance.”

She could picture the taken-aback look on her mother’s fine features- it had not been a question, but a statement- but she knew she could do this. Third time was the charmed, after all.

This time she did not concentrate on the words as she said them, but on them as a whole. On their meanings together.

Together they were Time, the essence of all things. She drew them together.

A burning heat built in her palms, and she let go of the dice in a panic. As her eyes flew open, - when had she closed them? – she noticed that their movements seemed slow and lazy, a relaxed, spiralling movement. A whole future was spread before her thoughts, in shards of fire and ice and soft-coloured light, ashes and stars and blood-red sunsets. The bones were her medium, and they followed her vision.

Clinking broke through the images, and she returned to the present. Both she and her mother stared at the bones.

“What do they mean?” she asked. Her mother did not answer.

They sat in silence.

“Angela!” called her father from below. Both started, and her mother shook her head.

“I do not like that name.”

“Why?”

“It is not the truth. It is not the name I gave to you.”

Suddenly angered, she stood up. “But it is still my name.”

“You are the last of your kind! You must take up the mantle.”

“No, I am not,” she snarled. “I am the only one of my kind. Your blood runs through me, but not just yours. Why should I not take the name that seems right to me?”

Angela walked out of the room.

“You have grown up too fast,” murmured her mother, but she could not hear her.

Smoke wound its way through the house, so thick Angela could not even gather the breath to scream. She knocked into several pieces of furniture, lurched into the door, fumbled with its handle, staggered outside. As soon as she was clear of the swirling, smouldering wreckage, she fell to her knees, gasping frenziedly for the thin air.

Seconds, minutes- hours? days?- later, a slender, soot-stained hand laid itself on her shoulder.

“Where is father?” she asked.

Her mother said nothing.

Tears streamed down her face, half from the smoke, half from the sorrow.

She cursed the fire that had taken half her heart.

The pair, mother and daughter, fled the burning carcass. Every time the younger stopped, the elder urged her on. They cannot catch us. They cannot catch us.

One week later, a week of aching feet and empty tear ducts, they stopped. The golden dragon eyed them curiously, a young elf with silver hair tied back mirroring his expression.

“Eka aí fricai,” said her mother, trying not to let exhaustion enter her voice. She presented a ring for the man to see. He nodded mutely, then turned to Angela.

“She is my daughter, she means you no harm.” assured her mother, almost frantically, but he did not heed her words.

A sharp blade poked at her mind.

No, she thought.

The elf swayed back, clearly shocked.

“My mind is mine alone,” Angela asserted. “Do not try it.”

Another presence brushed gently against her barriers, and for a second she thought he had disregarded her advice, but it was a different signature. Tentatively, she let it in.

Forgive my Rider,thought the dragon. Oromis is rash, and, dare I say it, a little overprotective of me. He refuses to trust anyone without proof of their loyalty to peace. I am Glaedr.

It is… a pleasure to meet you, Glaedr.

Oromis was scowling at her. She smiled back. “I wouldn’t keep on like that. If you frown too much, your face gets frozen like that. Forever.”

He raised an eyebrow, but attempted to quickly and subtly rearrange his face into something more amenable. Angela tried to hide a laugh. Glaedr didn’t bother disguising his.

He sighed. “I suppose I have to take you to Vrael and Evandar now.”

“That would be best,” replied her mother. Both valiantly tried to ignore the giggling girl and dragon.

That was the first time Angela flew on a dragon. When she next did, several hundred years later, she remembered an old friend and, though she did not cry for him, she thought of him with sadness in her heart.

Her mother left Du Weldenvarden in the middle of the night, after four years of she and Angela staying there.

She did not take Angela with her.

Something cold buried itself in her heart then. In one desperate attempt to warm herself, she took the knucklebones left (accidentally or on purpose, she did not know) on the dresser and thought of Time.

Her hands blazed, and she looked into a pair of violet eyes. Scenes of flames and death reflected in the orbs. She thought she heard a scream.

When the scene cleared, the bones were still in her hands. A black cat with too-large canines and the same purple eyes as in the vision was sat in front of her.

Hello.

Hello. Who are you?

Solembum. I heard you were leaving.

She hadn’t realised it before, but yes, she had been meaning to leave.

Are you coming with me?

Perhaps.

She shrugged, and left the treehouse, tucking the bones into her pocket.

It was rare for Ellesméra to be as empty as it was, even at night, but Angela used it to her advantage, wondering if she really could leave without anybody noticing.

Of course, her luck wasn’t that good.

An elf stepped into her path, one with silvery-white hair and twinkling grey eyes. He held a dagger out toward her.

“Glídrin?”

“I had a dream,” he replied. “One day I am sure you will need this.”

She took the knife. It gleamed a soft red, even in the dark night.

“I’m afraid it only has one use left.”

She smiled up at him. “It only takes one stab to kill someone.”

He smiled back, but it quickly melted off his face. “Oromis will miss you.”

“I will miss him too. But perhaps we’ll meet again one day.”

He nodded.

She left.

#inheritance cycle #eragon #eragon-exchange-2018 #angela #submission

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themourningsage-archived · 6 years

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{{ M a g i c i s t h e a r t o f t h i n k i n g , n o t o f s t r e n g t h o r l a n g u a g e . }}

Oromis [from the Inheritance series] Indie RP Blog

Muse/Mun of age, open to NSFW

Crossovers, AUs, & OCs welcome!

will probably mostly interact in my Tolkien verse

~~ RULES ~~ ABOUT ~~ TOLKIEN VERSE ~~ ASK ~~

{DON'T REBLOG MY #ic, #rp, OR #headcanons POSTS IF YOU'RE NOT INVOLVED IN THEM.}

#ooc #self-promo #fantasy rp #tolkien rp #lotr rp #the hobbit rp #eragon rp #indie rp

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alagaesia-headcanons · 6 years

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Not a request, just wanted to say thank you for answering the Oromis x oc/female rider asks. I was actually both of them, I forgot I had sent a similar one in. I have to get surgery soon to get my gallbladder removed and I'm pretty bummed about it, so that really cheered me up. I don't think Oromis gets nearly enough attention in the fandom.

Oh my gosh, that's some big stuff! I'm glad that my headcanons could help cheer you up. I've always been back and forth on Oromis, there's some parts of his character I do like, some parts I don't, so I've enjoyed the chance to think about what he's like beyond what the books tell us! Best of luck with your surgery and recovery!!❤️❤️👍

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nerevar-quote-and-star · 2 months

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Mannimarco, clearly livid: Have you no shame, Traven?

Hannibal Traven, equally mad: Well, of course! Yes. I am ashamed of YOU!

Oromis: *spits out wine* Oh DAMN!

#catch these hands #mannimarco #hannibal traven #oc: oromis #mages guild #necromancy #arcane university #order of the black worm #king of worms #nerevar queue and star #incorrect quotes #incorrect elder scrolls #incorrect oblivion quotes #tes #the elder scrolls #oblivion #the elder scrolls iv: oblivion #source: tumblr

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larxene223 · 7 years

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I was tagged by my dear dear friend @drxgony <3<3<3

Rules: Tag 9 people you want to get to know better

last movie you watched: No clue...

last song you listened to: If I Lose Myself by OneRepublic

top 3 shows/dramas/anime: Hannibal, Voltron, True Detective (season 1)

top 3 favorite characters: Oromis, Grimmjow, Gabriel Reyes

top 3 ships: Pretty much all of my otps involve an oc and another character...

I tag @hydix , @inevitablyanartmajor , @shitty-yama , @ebaebe

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ao3feed-inheritancecycle · 2 years

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Forsworn Enemies

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/kI3cnor

by Nikradical

The dragon riders are untouchable. Living monuments of immortality and prestige. Until one by one, there are whispers. Rumors spread like dragonfire over the plains. Civil unrest by the downtrodden, fear of a shade hidden in Alagaesia. And worse? The riders are unprepared to fight their own. The Forsworn rise like a plague. Corrupting the decisions of nobles and riders alike. As honorable as they may think they are, some dragon riders were willing to do anything in their power to achieve their goals. Even if it meant turning on their own.

Story takes place before and during the fall of the riders. As close to canon as I could manage on my own research. Follows Radi and his dragon, Maelorum. A 650+ year old elf whose contributions and compendiums to the dragon riders outshine the truth he believes. That humans are undeserving of the dragon rider bond. Senick, a young human magician calls that belief into question. Will Radi and Maelorum fight and die as broken heroes of The Order, or outlive the heroes and be felled by the hope for a new era without The Forsworn?

(Did my best to keep characters in-character. Mostly OCs with cameos and mentions to avoid self-indulgence. :P Tons of references, though!)

Words: 3506, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: The Inheritance Cycle - Christopher Paolini

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: Gen

Characters: Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character(s), Oromis Thrándurin, Kialandí (Inheritance Cycle), Evandar (Inheritance Cycle), Brom (Inheritance Cycle), Morzan, Vrael (Inheritance Cycle)

Additional Tags: Tragedy, Du Fyrn Skulblaka, Dragon Riders, Racism (against Humans), Angst, Psychological Drama, Unreliable Narrator, The Forsworn - Freeform, Canon Compliant, The Banishing of the Names, the Varden - Freeform

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/kI3cnor

#ao3feed #fanfic #inheritance cycle #the inheritance cycle #eragon

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ghostingwings · 6 years

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hey, weird question, but do you have any ocs??

FUCK DUDE I SURE DO,i have tons of em, some i pay more attention to than others! i’ll list their names here and a bit about them, if you wanna see a ref or know more about one of em, please let me know!! i love talking about them ^w^

howlite - an su oc! he’s a failed homeworld experiment, and his weapon is his voice. he can shout at extreme amplitudes and frequencies, making people dizzy, disoriented, and can sometimes even make em faint. he loves bugs and tinkering with things

bumblebee jasper - also an su oc!! she has lightning powers much like yellow diamond, but relies more on brute strength to fight- using her electricity too often or for too long makes her tired. her weapon looks a bit like an arrow, and is as big as pearl’s spear, maybe a bit bigger. it can release a practically leathal shock/sting upon contact. she’s super hyperactive, but gets tired easily, and LOVES eating. will literally eat all the food in your fridge?? she’s also very easily angered but only lashes out when necessary

lionfish - seawing oc! very introverted and kinda snappy, really dark green/murky colors and very pale green glow spots. really lanky, with an incredibly long tail! he’s an animus, but has a cluttered mind and has trouble remembering things, making it harder for him to enchant stuff. big gay

oromis - an old dragon with a troubled past and plenty of wisdom to share; blind

teno - a semi aquatic undertale monster oc! he has four arms, and a long powerful tail, sleek fur covering his whole body. he’s bipedal; but since he spends most of his time in the water that doesn’t matter much. glowing spots much like a seawing’s cover his body

marcus - a trans guy that’s mainly human! he has three arms, two on his left side, and a tail, as well as a mouth underneath his jaw much like alexandrite. he’s an earth/fire elemental, more powerful with earth stuff. he has some tattoos, and six eyes, and an appetite for pasta!! he’s very cocky, and has a lot of trust in himself and his abilities. he’s not very good with people, and is very loud and outspoken. loves dogs

summer - my fursona! trans guy, peach colored fur with strawberry colored markings. tons of piercings, likes to have a good time

bloodstone - this guy’s a REALLY old oc, i absolutely need to redesign him. su oc, an assassin from homeworld

viin, harumn, sunset(rainwing), badgerfur(or emeraldsoul? can’t decide a name), rykeir, hawk’s eye, aal, rikhir, and oliver are some miscellaneous ocs that i don’t remember much about or don’t have a proper reference for!!

#ref #i dug through three and a half years of sketchbooks bc i was so stoked to talk about my ocs #and i couldn’t remember their names FJDHFJD #sorry i absolutely infodumped you!!! ahh #roaring

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