#SAPHIRA IS SPEAKING ONLY TRUTHS

[dam-mar]

vanir if you’re so great just defeat the King yourself, or at least be good enough to be chosen 🙄

[saphirafoxgirlspost1]

You know what?.. I'm done, I'm so done right now, not only those Anonymous haters speaking ill and talk down to Saphira and calling my Muse a Mary Sue, so I'm done.. I'm so f****** done. I didn't deserve to be treated like this and I just came back from the cruise.. I don't give a damn about the truth I don't give a damn about everything but now I'm going on Discord.. it's just.. it hurts me when I felt so much disrespect right now and I am a very sensitive human being and I do not want to hear any of this truth b******* I just want to hear is respect complicated and compassion I don't give a damn about anything I just want to feel like I belong to Tumblr. Instead of being treated me like I don't belong there and yes I turn off the anons..."Who's Said it's nothing but an Empty threats now huh!?" You think i'm playing NOW!? huh!?...I'm Pissed off and I'm Done!...this is my boiling point!...I'm not turning it back on! Until...I'm in the Mood For...I don't care How long it would take to realized that....But I'm Done..."Who's The Dumbass Now?!"....

Me:

[1995lahaine]

secret good eragon part 3 etc etc fuck this is getting long. anyways

ep7 FAKEOUT we’re with the varden suddenly!!!! who are these people??? we meet ajihad, nasuada, orik, hrothgar etc as they face the incoming march of durza & the urgals and scramble to discover what happened to arya, now that it has become clear she is not merely delayed but something far worse. meanwhile, eragon, brom and saphira are on their way to dras leona, and eragon is dereaming more and more frequently about the elf woman in mortal danger. brom does not tell him who she is, though he knows - eragon would only want to charge to save her and sentence them all to death. they are not in the CITY THAT EATS YOU dras leona for long before the ra’zac ambush and attack them. they are saved by a mysterious stranger, but brom is stabbed. as he dies, he blesses eragon and reveals the truth: he was once a rider with a dragon named saphira, and whispers seven further words of the ancient language to eragon. the stranger introduces himself as murtagh, and stares strangely at eragon’s sword, but helps them to carry brom’s body away. they bury him and saphira turns his tomb to diamond. back in tronjheim, the message brom and jeod had sent reaches the varden: there is a new rider.

ep8. murtagh, eragon and saphira journey towards gilead - eragon and murtagh spar, proving that eragon is still no master, but murtagh offers some advice. it is when they’re exhausted from such training that eragon is captured by urgals. in tronjheim, the varden attempt to track this new rider - brom and jeod’s message was that they would journey to gilead, but no sighting of brom or strange events have been reported there. nasuada is terrified for her friend arya, but the others seem not to care so much for the elf’s safety now they know the egg has hatched - presumably with a human rider. murtagh and saphira follow the urgals to an underground prison. inside, eragon awakes, and in a cell near his, can see the woman who has been haunting his dreams. the shade durza appears, taunting him, but does not harm him physically. during durza’s absence, he realises he’s been underestimated, and escapes his cell using magic. he cannot, however, get arya’s cell open. murtagh and saphira storm the prison and find eragon outside her cell, and being the little bitch he is (affectionate) he’s refusing to leave without her, to their extreme annoyance. they tear down the cell wall and escape with arya unconscious, fleeing into the mountains. arya’s condition worsens, and aware of their psychic link though he doesn’t understand it, eragon is able to break through her weakened mental walls and speak with her. she warns that they must reach the varden soon if she is to survive, and reveals they are situated in the dwarven capital. the group sets out across the desert.

ep9. exhausted and beaten down, eragon, murtagh, saphira, and arya reach the edge of farthen dur. murtagh stops, refusing to follow. he reveals that his father was morzan, but before he can flee, the kull appear and force them to take shelter in the now-revealed doors to farthen dur. the twins and ajihad appear: eragon begs them to take arya and cure her. eragon and murtagh are taken for questioning, where the the twins probe into his mind - painfully. saphira, outraged, roars the whole time. murtagh has learned to fend off such attacks, and refuses to be tested, being imprisoned - but they discover his heritage through their brutal questioning of eragon, anyways. eragon is given brom’s ring, meets hrothgar, meets ajihad. angela and solembum appear again, to his shock. he meets and ‘blesses’ elva. arya and nasuada reunite and it’s SWEET and CUTE ok. ajihad questions whether eragon is ready to fight for more than just his own survival and his quest for revenge - whether he is truly sympathetic to the varden or cares about the liberation of alagaesia. both arya and ajihad insist that he must remain unbound to one group, but hope that he will fight for what is right. arya and eragon spar, and though eragon is still no perfect swordsman, arya accepts that saphira hatched for him for a reason, and that he may one day reach an adequate level. they discover that an urgal and kull army, spearheaded and controlled by durza, tracked eragon and arya after their escape. eragon (little bitch supreme) sneaks into the prison and frees murtagh for the battle, trusting him (YES IM TAKING FUCKING LIBERTIES OKAY) not to betray them. the urgals arrive.

ep10. battle of farthen dur. i forgot to mention but in ep9 orik and eragon strike up a fast friendship! anyways it’s a battle episode what do you expect. war yadda yadda. eragon and durza battle & eragon is beaten, slashed open at his back and cursed. saphira and arya save him, he kills durza, but passes out. in his comatose state, he is visited by the mourning sage who urges him to travel to ellesmera, the only place where he might receive proper training to become a rider. across the continent, the ra’zac are approaching carvahall. end of season. this has been fun.

[adoptable-fanfic-prompts]

Inheritance Cycle + Game of Thrones Writing Prompt

So I had the thought of what if the Targaryen dragons are the result of them selectively breeding those who would only respond to those of Valyrian blood. The original dragons are pretty much that of the Inheritance Cycle series, with only a few of the original eggs remaining (at least two, no more than four).

Many many years later, Jon Snow finds the eggs (at least two). Maybe one is gray with purple tints and the other is red. The gray one ends of hatching for him and he gets the dragon rider mark (and he proceeds to have to hide the dragon from everyone). The dragon is also able to speak (much like how Saphira could). Game of Thrones continues as expected (except Jon no longer wants to go to the Wall and wants to travel with his dragon) but when the king comes to Winterfell, Myrcella somehow ends up hatching the other egg. A secret friendship occurs between the two (which I found to be ironic: the prince raised as a bastard and the bastard raised as a princess… please note that they remain friends/siblings (Jon being the big brother Myrcella wished she had)) with Jon promising to watch over her dragon when she returns to King’s Landing (they also begin to learn Inheritance Cycle magic, although Myrcella is better at it then Jon).

The show continues, except Jon does not join the Night Watch. When Myrcella is sent to Dorne, she ends up jumping ship via dragon (her dragon becoming just big enough for her to ride). She either ends up helping Sansa and/or Tyrion escape (not sure which one is better. Either way, they don’t know it’s Myrcella).

Not sure of what else (except maybe Jon and Myrcella finding the truth about themselves much sooner due to Jon traveling instead of joining the Night Watch or because of them learning magic). Another idea is when Jon (who still manages to become King of the North, with Davos as his hand with Myrcella being another advisor (eventually becoming the new Hand due to having more experience in court)) goes to Dragonstone and is denied help unless he bends the knee, Myrcella shows her Lannister side and ends up making it so that all their people leave Dragonstone while her and Jon are ‘hostages’, all the while having them take the dragon glass is secret. Tyrion, during this, is surprised that his niece is alive. Eventually, when enough dragonglass is mined, Myrcella decides to be dramatic and jumps off a cliff in front of Daenerys. Jon either does the same or waits until Myrcella reappears over the edge with her dragon (flying away) before his dragon lands for him to climb on. Drogonn may give chase but using magic, they manage to escape.

That’s about it with this idea…

[nijjhar]

Luke 12v8-12:- Sins are forgivable by men who made the moral laws but no... Luke 12v8-12:- Sins are forgivable by men who made the moral laws but not the Blasphemy against the Holy Spirit. https://youtu.be/lrxxtx1QCRs Holy Gospel of our Supernatural Father Elohim, Allah, Parbrahm, etc., delivered by the First Anointed Christ, which in Punjabi we call Satguru Jesus of the highest living God Elohim that dwells within His Most Beautiful Living Temple of God created by the greatest artist demiurge Potter, the Lord of the Nature Yahweh, Brahma, Khudah, etc. and it is called Harmandir or “Emmanuel” according to Saint Luke 12,8-12. Jesus said to his twice-born Labourers, Talmidim, and not the once-born disciples of the crook Messianic Jews, the Husbandmen of the Winepress: "I tell you, everyone who acknowledges me before others, Preach the Gospel Truth from the Rooftop the Son of Man will acknowledge before the angels of God, who kill the sons of Satan, the Blasphemers against the Holy Spirit. But whoever denies me before others will be denied before the angels of God but handed over to the angels of Satan. Everyone who speaks a word against the Son of Man will be forgiven, but the one who blasphemes against the Holy Spirit will not be forgiven. So, the greatest blasphemers of the order of Anias and Saphira, Tony Blair and Bush that Saddam Hussein had WMD would not be forgiven and the Angels of God, the tribal people of Russia led by the tribal man Putin, Super Hitler, will PUNISH the USA and the West. When they take you before synagogues and before rulers and authorities, do not worry about how or what your defence will be or about what you are to say. For the holy Spirit will teach you at that moment what you should say." Living Islam of Living Allah is of the “Al-Kitab” that gets written over your own heart through "Logical Reasoning" by the Grace of our Supernatural Father of our supernatural “Soul” Al-Ilah = Allah. No son of your tribal father, Qom, "Ilah" no son of Supernatural Father Allah. Only “fools” will believe in me and not in Allah. ASK, SEEK AND KNOCK. REAL SHARIAH-FREE ISLAM OF ALLAH - NOOR IN HONOUR OF ROYAL SHAH SHAMS TABRIZI. HUKUM RAZIAN CHALNA; NANAK LIKHYA NAAL. Sants of the Fourth Panth = Millatt are “Dass” and the Khalsas of the Third Panth are “Singh” surnames, Gotras. And Nanak was the Second Coming of Jesus, the “Christ = Satguru” and not a Brahmin “Guru”. The greedy Khatris messed up the devotees so much that they did not know the First and the Second Panths. http://www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/tenlights.htm  For the full article, visit:- http://www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/JattIslam.htm Real Islam is the knowledge of our spiritual Father Allah (Pakka Peo) for the twice-born "Seekers" of age who are faithful and have the knowledge of their tribal Father "Ilah" (Kacha Peo) learnt from the Mullah - Matt 13v52. Thus, no born of water “Ilah”; no born of the Spirit “Al-Ilah”. The Root of Allah (Al-Ilah) is "Ilah" as that of the Disciple is disciplined by the moral laws taught by a Rabbi, Brahmin, Maulvi, etc. For this reason, Christ Jesus had two sets of Labourers; 70 Outer-circle in the name of John, the Baptist, and Prophet Elijah (My god is demiurge creator of male and female Yahweh), the Corner-Stone of the Temple but ousted by the crook hypocrite Temple Priests that delivered sugar-coated sermons of "falsehoods" that are sweeter than honey to catch their prey and the 12 inner-circle made up of 7 of Menorah for the full knowledge of Yahweh, Brahma, Khudah, etc. and 5 of heart, the 5 spiritual Husbands of the Samaritan Woman, St. Photina for the Full Knowledge of Elohim, Allah, Parbrahm, etc. but the men of dead letters call her a “sinner” woman marrying one husband after the other because they have no "common sense = Surti" that can Brew the New Wine thinking logically.  They were all men because you need to be born of water (Tribal seed) before you can be born of the Holy Spirit to learn the Gospel Truth. None of the 12 Apostles baptised anyone in water but the 70 outer circle Labourers did. The sacked Husbandmen of the Winepress (Temple Priests) became hypocrites “Messianic Jews” and corrupted the New Testament too. Messianic Jews keep all the 7 Candles of Menorah at the same level that Christ has not come yet – GREAT HYPOCRITES LIKE THEIR TEMPLE PRIESTS – Matt 12v43-45 is fulfilled in them. COOL-HEADED RUMI WAS A PERFECT TWICE-BORN MAULVI, BRAHMIN, RABBI, ETC. = MOON OF THE "SUN" ALLAH, A WITNESS TO THE “LIGHT” BUT NOT THE LIGHT. HE WAS LIKE PROPHET ELIJAH (MY GOD IS YAHWEH), JOHN, THE BAPTIST, THE LORD OF NATURE AT LARGE WHO My ebook by Kindle. ASIN: B01AVLC9WO Private Bitter Gospel Truth videos:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/nobility.htm www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/Rest.htm Any helper to finish my Books:- ONE GOD ONE FAITH:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/bookfin.pdf and in Punjabi KAKHH OHLAE LAKHH:-  www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/pdbook.pdf Very informative Channel:- Punjab Siyan. John's baptism:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/johnsig.pdf Trinity:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/trinity.pdf

[silkeared]

at  the  time,  ender  had  been  too  wound  up  in  koda  to  fully  care  —  or  at  least,  that  was  what  she  had  told  herself.  there  had  been  many  a  grumble  to  her  girl  friends  ;  saphira  is  a  bitch,  saphira  abandoned  me,  saphira  upped  and  left  and  still  has  my  favorite  bra  in  her  dresser.  it  was  easier  to  speak  her  mind  than  linger  on  it  and  have  to  taste  the  truth,  that  her  heart  had  broken  that  morning  when  she  realized  the  girl  she  had  been  speaking  to  had  disappeared.  no  note,  no  text,  blocked  on  everything.  ender  was  thankful  for  her  burner  instagram,  if  only  to  grumble  and  insult  the  ugly,  embarrassing,  beautiful  photos  her  ex-situationship  had  been  posting.  back  then,  the  worst  the  woman  ever  had  to  deal  with  was  a  broken  heel  or  a  bad  hair  day. she  hadn’t  known  what  had  been  waiting  just  around  the  corner. maybe  she  would  have  understood,  maybe  she  would  have  listened.  but  now  it  was  too  late.  they  stood  across  from  one  another,  and  ender  wasn’t  sure  whether  the  feeling  in  her  stomach  was  a  twist  of  rage  or  the  coils  of  affection.  she  didn’t  know  whether  to  scream  or  cry,  whether  to  punch  saphira  or  kiss  her  …  so  instead  she  did  nothing,  just  gawping  wide - eyed  in  her  all - purple  ensemble.  “you,”  she  breathed,  “what  are  you  doing  here?”

closed starter for: ender jackson ( @silkeared ) location: portum halloween annual fair

saphira was still getting to know this town her uncle has intended for her to go to in the first place, for the first time wondering if he had reasons behind it, if he knew what she was, why being here just...felt right, a thought she still refuses, too stubborn to accept, he never cared for her, always wanted her out of his way. her upbringing made her be this distant with people, yet not with ender, somehow saphira found her walls crumbling down as they got so close so quickly in a short span of time, and she thought...maybe this was it, until ender became one of her visions, making her believe that it was all that for her, that that was her purpose for ender, making her go distant, until her unfortunate demise.

and now, she's standing in front of her, at first, her head down, slowly looking up and realizing who it was, words not coming to her at all, the words that comes out of her mouth doesn't make sense. "i...you...ender..." she mutters as she stands to face the very person she cared about in a way she hasn't before.

[saphira-approves]

Hi, for the ask prompt thingy: Brom reflecting over ”the good old days” with Morzan and their relationship, romantic or platonic? Maybe throw Murtagh in there as well for extra angst

I hope you don’t mind, I kind of ran away with this idea. Hope you enjoy!

— 

Whoever had said that your life “flashes” before your eyes as you die is a stars-damned liar. There was no “flash” of the past century, no “flash” of his childhood or his adolescence or the grieving, rageful agony of his unnaturally long adulthood.

No, Brom’s past came to him slowly, creeping in the night with his death on its heels. From the moment the Ra’zac’s blade struck him, from the moment the world went dark, time splintered, and Brom knew only pain.

—

He came to wakefullness with a sickening lurch. His waist was soaking wet, his clothes clinging stickily to his torso—a fine elven-spun tunic beneath mail and surcoat, the rich aquamarine now stained black. Saphira stood above him—his Saphira, his beautiful, brave Saphira—wings outstretched, head held high in defiance. But with each breath, her shoulders heaved; with each heartbeat, that Brom could feel beside his own, gouts of blood fell in dark streams. Curls of blue flame flickered in her bared-open jaws as blood trickled from her teeth.

Head spinning, Brom tried to rise, to raise Undbitr—but when he reached for the hilt, his fingers closed on empty air. His feet could not find purchase beneath him in the blood-slick mud, and he fell upon his hands.

Cold laughter, achingly, sickeningly familiar, snaked into his ears, and Brom’s stomach clenched. Saphira’s snarl grew fiercer. A shadow approached, backlit by terrible flame, and the red blade with a wicked gleam rose above Brom’s head—

—and with the precision of the finest ballroom dancer, Morzan quite neatly cut Saphira down.

—

Everything was burning, enfolded in black fire that bloomed from the grief rooted deep in Brom’s heart; but no sooner did he have the thought than a cool wind passed across his face, scattering the fire as one dashes away prints on the sandy shores of the sea.

He remembered his mother’s face, her cheek smudged with ink, smiling warmly at something he said; he remembered his father’s hands, fine and ink-stained, calloused from years spent over manuscripts, detailing a single intricate scene. He remembered long summers in the crystalline lagoons, helping his mother mix a paint that might capture even a fraction of that rich, incredible blue; blue water became aquamarine scales, warm to the touch, surrounding deeply intelligent eyes that looked at him and knew his very soul.

Saphira.

—

Morzan cast him curious, worried glances from the shadows. Something about his face wasn’t quite right. Too soft, too tired, too kind. He was asking Ebrithil a question—it must have been Ebrithil he was talking to, Ebrithil who had tried to give him water, for Brom was sick and sore from… from… a training exercise? It must have been.

Brom was young, and he had Saphira. He would be fine. He would heal.

Everything was fine… even if Morzan seemed to be out of sorts.

—

Brom was unsure of what to expect when he arrived in Illirea and was led to his teacher’s quarters, but it certainly wasn’t to find a boy, who couldn’t have been much older than Brom himself, sprawled across an elegant armchair, and seeming quite thoroughly bored with the book floating above his chest. Awestruck, Brom took a timid step into the room, his knuckles knocking thrice on the doorframe of their own accord. At the sound, the boy’s eyes—one blue, the other black—flicked to Brom, eyed him up and down, and then somehow looked even more bored before turning back to the book, which idly flipped a page without the boy even raising his hand.

Closely followed by the blue dragon hatchling—dragon hatchling!—who had shadowed his steps from the moment she had left her egg, Brom quietly hurried to another chair, one of a pair that faced the armchair occupied by the other boy. Neither of these were as well-padded as the boy’s chair, but Brom couldn’t bring himself to mind, and was quickly absorbed with watching the boy read, trying to figure out how and why his book seemed to hover in the air, unsupported by any physical means.

Brom stared for quite a while.

So long, in fact, that when the boy glanced at him again, there was a sharp look to his eyes, and his voice was rather haughty as he asked, “What are you staring at, Illuminator?”

Brom’s eyes widened. “How do you know I’m an Illuminator?” he breathed.

The boy raised his eyebrows. “Your sleeves are edged in black. Only Illuminators wear those. Now what are you staring at?”

“Your book,” Brom blurted out. “It’s just—I’ve never seen a book do that. And I grew up with books!”

Now the boy smirked. “I’m using magic,” he said importantly. “See? I can make it do what I want.” And to demonstrate, he glowered at the book, muttered something strange under his breath, and then returned to proudly smirking as the book traced a lazy circle around his head.

“That’s amazing,” Brom gushed. “Will you teach me? Oh please, will you teach me?”

The other boy raised an elegant eyebrow, and opened his mouth to reply, but another cut across him, “Morzan, you most certainly will not.”

A tall, fine-boned man with silver hair that reached his waist strode into the room, levelling the other boy—Morzan—with a stern look. “I believe I gave you strict instructions, Morzan. Return to your seat.”

With a bored sigh, but without protest, Morzan rose from his chair. He barked a word that Brom no longer knew, and a gangly, red-scaled, winged creature burst from beneath the chair and shimmied up Morzan’s side, perching on his shoulder and coiling a long red tail around the boy’s throat. The red dragon was about half an arm longer than Saphira, and warbled curiously at her. Saphira warbled back, and Brom could feel her pleasure to meet another one of her kind so close in age.

Morzan dropped into the chair beside Brom’s, and the tall man—no, the tall elf, Brom realized, catching sight of the pointed ears—claimed the seat Morzan had left, and with growing excitement, Brom realized that he would be a student alongside this boy, who was clearly already so accomplished and refined.

—

“Ebrithil asked about you,” Brom said nervously, fiddling with his sleeves. They were no longer edged in black, and he no longer knocked on doorframes as he passed them. Whenever he did, before he broke the habit, Morzan always called him weird, or laughed at him.

Now, Morzan was far from laughter. He scowled at Brom’s words as he descended from his dragon’s saddle. “And what did you say?” he asked harshly.

“That I didn’t know where you were going,” Brom said. They were speaking in the Ancient Language, unable to lie, so Morzan knew it was the truth. It was also the truth that Brom really had no idea where his friend spent long hours outside the Dragonhold, unaccompanied save for his dragon.

“Well, it’s going to stay that way,” Morzan said haughtily.

“Oh,” said Brom. He really shouldn’t be so disappointed; Morzan had said the same thing the last five times Brom had seen him return.

Then Morzan smirked, his black eye glinting with mischief. “But I have something new to teach you.”

Excitement bubbled in Brom’s chest. “You do?” he asked in a gleeful whisper.

Morzan shushed him, glanced around to be sure they were unnoticed, and then beckoned for Brom to follow.

—

Dragon’s blood once again slicked the ground beneath Brom’s boots, but this time he wasn’t the Rider who had lost his footing. At his feet, Morzan had scrambled back as far as he could go, his back pressed against a wall, and his two-toned eyes flashing with ugly hatred. He had long since been disarmed, and Zar’roc now turned on its former master, the red blade still dripping with the Unnamed dragon’s heartblood.

Brom had won. The blue egg—a deeper, truer blue than Saphira’s—was now tucked underneath Brom’s arm. The sword which had rent his life in two was now his to turn on his wickedest enemy.

And Morzan… Morzan had the gall to give a hoarse laugh. “So, now you’ll do to me what I did to you, Illuminator?” he taunted.

Brom looked down at him. “No,” he said quietly. “I’ll do worse. Hvessa blod.”

Morzan’s eyes widened in horrified recognition of the spell he had once taught Brom, before he was lost to screaming, screaming, screaming—

—and choked into silence, as his flesh was rent asunder by his own blood.

—

He told Eragon about Saphira—his Saphira, his brave, beautiful Saphira—and offered his blessing. There was a shadow, hovering uncertainly behind Eragon; Brom wondered if it was Selena, come to guide him away from this slow, torturous death.

He thinks she did come, eventually. He must have hit his head; she hovered over him in double, worried, weeping; before stilling into a single silhouette, smiling, warm, and welcoming.

And so was the passing of Brom.

[weirdponytail]

So does the plot line closely follow what’s happened in the original books? What’s the major differences between your version and books? (Besides the modern aspect, lol)

Oof, okay. This is gonna be hard to explain, mostly because my writing is usually ‘outside’ the plot and isn’t a chapter-by-chapter type rewrite or AU, but I’ll do my best. 

In short? When talking about the timeline we have in the original IC series, MIC is almost separate from IC after the first half of Book 1. The first major divergence is that Brom lives. Not only is Brom alive, but Glenwing survives the ambush. He loses an arm, but he’s very much alive and rejoins Arya with the spellcasters sent to protect Eragon and Saphira. 

EDIT: I felt I should add that a lot of the general plot points through Eldest remain the same. I’m still trying to figure out Brisingr and Inheritance though.

But let’s back up for a second and zoom way out. Get more general.

Starting at the Fall of the Riders: While Paolini’s official timeline has the Fall lasting about 4 years, with Arya being born a year before the final conflict, I’ve toyed with it a bit so that it lasts maybe 5 to 7ish years. I wanted the effect of the war to carry more weight in a way that is remembered and passed on through the shorter lived races. We don’t get much of grown human grandchildren in IC talking about how their grandparents fought alongside the Riders and elves in an attempt to preserve the Golden Age. Along with that, people alive (I’m talking in their 30s to 60s) in the books would likely have quite vivid memories of the Forsworn and their dragons terrorizing the world. And in truth, I wanted Arya to have some memories and impressions of her father and the differences between him and Islanzadí. 

I’ve also extended the time that the ‘books’ take place over. Paolini has Eragon, Eldest, Brisingr, and Inheritance taking place over a year. It’s honestly ridiculous, and I’m not going to soften that statement at all. So the timeline is extended. I hover around 5 years, but that occasionally feels like it would be longer considering how much slice of life and non-main-plot type writing I do. MIC has never really been about following the plot of IC but more about the effects of the conflict on the characters. It’s stuff we don’t get to see because the focus is usually on Eragon and Saphira and they’re just so rushed to end the war. 

Let’s see what else I can think of…. Ah, well, Brom eventually does tell Eragon about being his father. He kinda goes on a rage rant that Murtagh told Eragon he was Morzan’s son and grabs Eragon in front of that whole little meeting and tells him ofc Morzan isn’t his dad because ‘YOU’RE MY SON, DAMN IT!’ and yeah there’s some drama but it works out with a nice hug. 

Islanzadí doesn’t die in the final conflict, but is humbled in some way. She keeps the throne, and after a year of recovery where the council handles things and Arya helps them reintegrate into greater Alagaësia society without offending too many people and starting another war. Arya and Firnen join Eragon and Saphira after that. 

Speaking of those two Riders...with more time for development, and more time for Eragon to mature and Arya to heal, as well as both of them to properly get to know each other, I do plan on having Eragon and Arya start a relationship. There’s issues with it still, and I don’t write much about it because it’s still iffy at best for me (I’m aromantic and asexual so writing romance is always a little wonky, and I also kin MIC!Arya as somewhat-clueless-to-hints demiromantic/demisexual so that’s always interesting to work with…) but I feel the extended timeline could make it more realistic and healthy. 

Alright that’s all I have. It’s quite a bit, haha! I’ve mostly written MIC for more prequel type things, as well as kept my writing in the times of the first and second books, so the plot isn’t very well done. Hope you enjoy what I have though! :)

I’ve answered the part of your question about the plot/timeline, but not fully answered your question, really. Besides the ‘modern’ aspect, there’s SIGNIFICANT changes to characterization and personalities for lots of the characters. If you want more of that kind of explanation, feel free to make another ask (or I’ll just make a reblog extension for this one) and I’ll gladly go over what I have/know of my versions of the characters thus far! They kinda...make themselves sometimes when I write, so characters I haven’t written about often are less developed in MIC than I’d like.

[inheritance-cycles]

Thorta Du Ilumëo

Trigger warnings for canon-typical graphic violence and torture.

Following the Siege of Dras-Leona, Murtagh and Thorn launch a successful attack against the Varden. During the fight, Eragon falls from Saphira’s back, and Thorn uses the momentary distraction to both wound Saphira and knock Arya unconscious. Murtagh, who originally planned to capture Nasuada, decides to take advantage of this rare opportunity, and during the chaos, Thorn and Murtagh manage to seize Eragon and spirit him away to Urû'baen. Canon non-compliant fic detailing Eragon’s capture, trials, and eventual rescue.

First chapter based heavily on Nasuada’s capture. 

Part 1 || AO3 (parts 2-6)

Eragon opens his eyes.

The first thing he notices is the pounding in his head; an almost percussive agony that brings him more fully to awareness. His thoughts, however, feel thick and slow, as if he were drunk with exhaustion. Turning his head makes the pain worse, so instead he stares with detached interest at the roof above him.

Tiles cover the dark, vaulted ceiling, and upon the tiles are painted angular patterns of red, blue, and gold: a complex matrix of lines that trap his gaze for a mindless while.

The soft crackle of a smoldering fire draws his attention, and at last he musters the will and energy to look away from the intricate designs. A simmering glow emanates from a source somewhere behind him, and he senses more than sees that the illumination is due to a brazier nearby. The glow is just strong enough to reveal the shape of the octagonal room, but not so bold as to dispel the shadows clinging to its corners.

Finally, he looks down, and notices the surface upon which he’s been restrained. It’s cold, smooth, and uncomfortably hard; the rough stone chafes irritably against his exposed hands and legs. A chill creeps into his bones, and he finds himself wishing for something warmer than the tattered tunic and loose trousers he had been wearing whilst drinking with Arya. Eyeing his lower half, he also realizes that he is weaponless, a fact that is unsurprising but disappointing all the same. Chances are, both his bow and Brisingr still lay on the grassy knoll near Dras-Leona where he fell.

But where am I now?  

With immense caution, he pushes his mind out- or tries to- but to his alarm, he only feels a soft, indistinct pressure surrounding him. It’s as if bales of wool are packed around his mind, and he finds that he can neither extend his consciousness outward, nor access the part of himself that houses his magic.

He’s unsure if he’s been drugged, but if this were done by magic, it was a magic that was completely unknown to him.

Eragon shudders, then tries to sit upright, but the padded manacles that he now sees encircle his limbs prevent him from moving more than a fraction of an inch in any direction. He furrows his brow and realizes that a thick leather belt holds his head firmly against the slab as well, preventing him from turning it more than a few degrees.

Even though he knows it’s futile, he strains against the bonds with all his strength, but they are too secure for even him to break. It’s this realization that causes him to truly panic.

Eragon allows himself a few moments of chest-heaving, muscle-trembling terror before he forces himself to calm, one carefully-controlled breath at a time. The only power he has in this situation is self-control, and he is not about to relinquish it willingly.

The pace of his breaths slow further. The regular, smooth flow through his throat and nostrils begins to crowd out all else. Then, once he’s reasonably certain he is not going to come undone, he allows his gaze to wander once more.

Turning his head what little it can, he glances out the window beside him, neck muscles straining with the effort. To his shock, he actually recognizes the landscape from a fairth he had studied while in Ellesmera.

He’s in Urû'baen.

His heart rate spikes once more, and he quickly loses what little hard-won composure he had gained.

Eragon is still working to calm his erratic breaths when he hears the footsteps in the hallway. His sensitive hearing picks them up easily: a group, some marching in rhythm, some not. The cacophony is so great that he’s unable to determine their exact number, nor their exact distance from him.

The second query is soon answered when the procession approaches, stopping directly outside the doorway to his chamber. There’s quiet murmuring, followed by two sets of clacking footsteps- the product of hard-soled riding boots, he guesses- then a single man enters the room.

The door closes with a hollow thud, and Eragon flinches.

Down the stairs the footsteps come, steady and deliberate. In his arms, the man carries a chair and places it somewhat near the brazier, his body only visible in Eragon’s periphery.

Silence reigns as he fills the copper brazier with charcoal, but then he moves it closer to the slab, closer to Eragon, and the motion produces a painful screech that drives into his ears like nails. Being well-restrained, all Eragon can do is cringe inwardly and watch, transfixed. The man takes flint and steel from the pouch on his belt and lights a nest of shredded tinder in the center of the brazier. The sparks smolder and spread, and the tinder glows like a ball of red-hot wires. Then, he bends, blowing on the incipient fire, and the sparks spring into lambent flames.

The man is not large: not fat, but broad-shouldered. A long black cape hangs draped around his well-built frame. Light from the coals cast his form in shadow, his features too dark to make out, even with Eragon’s advanced senses. Still, the shadows do nothing to obscure the outline of the sharp, pointed crown resting upon his brow, and they similarly fail to conceal the three long irons now resting in the heating coals.

Finally, the man drops into the chair with a near-silent exhale.  

One by one, he tugs on the fingers of his gauntlets, then pulls off his gloves. Tossing them carelessly aside, they land with a soft thump of hide on stone. Underneath the gloves, Eragon notices, the man’s hands are the color of tarnished bronze.

Then, the man speaks. His voice is low, rich and commanding, and Eragon shivers again. His skin prickles uncomfortably and he finds himself thinking of Elva, of all people, and her authority over people’s minds. He has no doubt that he is now in the presence of the king.

“Welcome to Urû’baen, Eragon, son of Morzan,” Galbatorix intones. “Welcome to this, my home, ‘neath these ancient piled rocks. Long has it been since a guest as distinguished as yourself has graced us with their presence. My energies have been occupied elsewhere, but I assure you, from now on, I shall not neglect my duties as host.”

The fire crackles menacingly as if to underscore the hard steel underlying the king’s tone, his words. Galbatorix leans forward, and Eragon can feel the weight of his gaze: boring into him, assessing, scrutinizing.

“You are younger than I expected. I knew you had recently come of age, but still, you are no more than a child.” He pauses for a moment, as if in thought. “Most seem as children to me these days. Foolhardy children who know not what is best for them- children who need the guidance of those who are older and wiser.”

Eragon sets his chin, not wanting to show fear or vulnerability in front of the king.

“Such as yourself?” He asks in a scornful tone.

Galbatorix chuckles. “Would you rather the elves ruled over us? I am the only one of our race who can hold them at bay. By their reckoning, even our oldest graybeards would be considered untested youths, unfit for the responsibilities of adulthood.”

“And by their reckoning, so would you.” With each word, his fear melts away, replaced by pure defiance and bubbling fury.

The amusement in the king’s eyes angers Eragon, but he stays otherwise silent.

“Ah, but I contain more than my share of years. The memories of hundreds are mine, whispering their wisdom in my ears,” replies Galbatorix, smirking conspiratorially. “You especially should understand of what I speak.”

Eragon purses his lips and refuses to confirm what they both know is true.

Galbatorix allows the silence to settle for a moment, then gestures at the room with his gauntlets, continuing unperturbed. “This is a place for truths to be told… and heard. I will tolerate no lies within these walls, not even the simplest of falsehoods.”

The legs of the chair scrape over the floor, and Galbatorix’s breath suddenly wafts, warm against his ear. “I know this will be painful for you, Eragon Shadeslayer, painful beyond belief. You will have to unmake yourself before pride will allow you to submit. In all the world, nothing is harder than changing one’s own self. I understand this, for I have reshaped myself on more than one occasion. However, I will be here to hold your hand and help you through this transition. Although we do not have much time, you need not take this journey alone. And you may console yourself with the knowledge that I will never lie to you. Not within this room. Doubt me if you wish, but in time you will come to believe me. You may ask whatever you want, and I promise you, that I shall answer truthfully. As the king of these lands, I give you my sworn word.”

Eragon’s jaw clenches painfully, and from between clenched teeth, he spits, “I’ll never tell you what you want to know!”

A slow deep chuckle fills the room. “You misunderstand; You were not brought here because I seek information. There’s nothing you could say that I don’t already know. You have no secrets from me, none whatsoever; it is pointless to insist upon holding your tongue, for it will only cause you pain and suffering.”

“Why then?” he growls.

Galbatorix moves to better meet Eragon’s gaze with his own.

“Why did I have you brought here? Because, my son, you have gifts far deadlier than anything magic or man could create. You are here because you have proven yourself worthy of my attention. I wish to have you by my side. A new order is about to descend upon Alagaësia, and I would have you be part of it. Voluntarily, if I can.”

Eragon squints, not trusting the king’s words. “Are you not going to use your mind against me?”

He shakes his head. “I have other ways to break you, my son. I could easily seize control of your mind and force you to swear fealty to me, but instead, I would have you make this decision of your own free will, and while still in possession of your faculties. For now, I am satisfied to discover just how brave you really are, Eragon, son of the Forsworn.”

Eragon clenches his muscles to prevent the growing tremors in his arms and legs from becoming visible.

“The Varden are fast approaching, desperate to rescue their Rider, so I will have to do this efficiently, and in a much shorter time frame than I would prefer.” A wickedly devious smile stretches Galbatorix’ cheeks. “Take this, then, as a sign of my regard for you, Eragon, that I must inflict such suffering to assure victory.” His voice drops to a whisper as he leans in even closer. “I would not, however, wish to exchange places with you.”  

This is my final duty: resisting my interrogation. I will not break.

“Now, before we begin,” croons Galbatorix. “I’ll ask you one last time: will you submit?”

Eragon thinks of Saphira, and his resolve hardens. “Never.”

“So be it. Let us begin.”

[papirouge]

It doesn't seem like you have actual Scriptural proof that God can take someone's salvation away, david fearing that his salvation could be lost doesn't mean it actually can be lost. There is more Biblical proof that eternal security and false conversion is truth than whatever you're claiming. God draws His own to Him, He predestined us for adoption as children through Jesus Christ, and He won't break His promise and cast His children away.

I brought plentyful of others Scriptural to back up my claims yet you decided to nitpick on David fearing to lose the Holy Spirit. Interesting.

So what about King Saul? He literally was God anointed. God got so angry at him He literally sent a bad spirit that made him lose his mind and eventually sent him to his death (by suicide - so we can be definitive Saul ended up in the ‘bad place’ of the Sheol). Same for Samson (also God anointed) who didn’t end well...

Low quantity doesn't mean Scripturaly invalid. If something is mentioned 1 single time in the Bible it still hold the same authority as something that is said 3, 4 or 5 times. Every single Word in the Bible counts. It’s not a “oh but this subject is getting talked more so it’s more important” kind of thing - the Bible doesn’t work this way. And more importantly: the Bible doesn't contradict itself.

Also it’s important to acknowledge actual storylines (which the OT is full of) and the “lesson” we can take from them, and not only have a verse-only lecture of the Bible. The NT fulfills the OT but it’s important to fully digest the OT to grasp the NT (idk if that makes sense lol)

What you said about predestination and God drawing us to Him doesn't invalidate the slightest anything that I said. I already addressed this argument confirming that God doesn't break His promise and if we remain faithful we definitely have the assurance of Him never giving up on us. But in return, God expects us to separate ourselves from our wicked ways.

2 Timothy 2:19

Nevertheless, God’s solid foundation stands firm, sealed with this inscription: “The Lord knows those who are his,” and, “Everyone who confesses the name of the Lord must turn away from wickedness.”

Humans by their disobedience (”wickedness”) break this ‘spiritual oath’ between Him and us, and thus deserve Godly Justice.

Yes God forgives and He does so for His Glory & self righteousness, but He can also have breaking point (King Saul, Samson, Korah, Ananias & Saphira < God literally struck them dead at their first offense), so it’s important to not take God’s Love & Patience for granted thinking we can recklessly indulge into sin/disobeying His commandments out of self righteousness (”I’m Saved, I’m one of the predestined chosen ones so I can do whatever I want without facing serious consequences”).

Romans 3:3

3 What if some were unfaithful? Will their unfaithfulness nullify God’s faithfulness? 4 Not at all! Let God be true, and every human being a liar. As it is written:“So that you may be proved right when you speak and prevail when you judge.” 5 But if our unrighteousness brings out God’s righteousness more clearly, what shall we say? That God is unjust in bringing his wrath on us? (I am using a human argument.) 6 Certainly not! If that were so, how could God judge the world?

When God rebuke His (former) children it’s for a reason, and it’s 100% deserved because the punished child would have done the first move of 'going away'. So it’s not really accurate to say that's God who "casts them away".

[white-spirit-of-darkness]

Fate’s Design, Chapter 2

Chapter 1| Chapter 2| Chapter 3

Summary:  A long time ago, a single drop of sunlight fell from the sky. For several centuries the magic of the sun went undiscovered, until the kingdom of Corona needed a miracle to save their most precious treasure. 

When the only son of the King and his Consort is stolen from them, it seems like the magic of the sun is lost to the world once again, until that very same magic brings together two completely different people, changing the course of destiny forever.

AO3: This chapter | From the beggining

Pairing(s): Logicality (background) / Prinxiety

Warnings:  (General warnings) child abduction, manipulative Deceit, villian Deceit, mentions of homophobia and light angst. Each chapter will have individual warnings if necessary.

Chapter warning: Mentions of child death, angst. Please let me know if there’s anything else that need to be tagged. 

Hey, @imtherealjose, this is dedicated to you, ily. 

(Almost) Eighteen years earlier

People, Patton noticed, seemed to think that tragedy was best when lived in advance, if the depressing black banners hung up around the town square were an indication. Everywhere he looked there was a sign of mourning, even if the death to be cried had not yet come to pass. Children fell into a hush as he walked by, surely attending to stern instructions given by their parents, and none of the street musicians that he had longed to hear had made an appearance in their usual busking spots. Despite the warm weather, the sidewalks were mostly empty, with the few passersby he encountered looking tired and sorrowful.

He knew it was partly due to his presence in the town; he’d had reports of the usual activities taking place as normal during the previous days, even if the general mood has been described to him as “mournful” by his adviser. It was so strikingly different from his last visit, when he’d walked among a much busier marketplace, and people had a smile on their faces upon seeing him. Now, it was as if the eyes of every citizen were his very own; the eyes he avoided in the mirror every morning, as if to shield himself from the ugly and unfair truth.

Somewhere in the castle workshops, someone worked on a little wooden box that would take Patton’s heart with it, should it be needed. Every physician had given the same diagnose, the same dark look as they checked the eyes of the child.The baby had been sick for a fortnight already; and no one had been able to stop the burning fever that caused his wretched cries. Even adults didn’t always survive such a strong sickness; not even his husband had much hope left, and neither did any of the members of the court. The rumors followed him anywhere he went in the citadel, all the people who wondered if they would try to have a child again, if perhaps King Logan would be wiser and take a wife, if this wasn’t a sure sign that traditions were sacred and should have been respected from the beginning.

Patton had to stop as a sudden burst of fury made him almost dizzy. He must have walked out of the main road a while ago; even though he recognized the little park he was currently standing in, he couldn’t quite place it in his mind. The shadows were  closer to the ground and the air was somewhat colder. Sunset was rapidly approaching.

He sat down on a bench, facing a small but well tendered fountain. His eyes stung as he forced himself to hold back tears, the same he’d been doing for two weeks already. Logan had cried every night, silently, but Patton had refused to even shed a tear. How could he help anyone if he let himself be overwhelmed by emotions? His son needed him more than ever, he couldn’t be a mess, crying and wailing and being useless. Logan needed him to rule the kingdom, there were important matters to attend. The world hadn’t stopped moving just because they were suffering. There were orphans to be fed and homeless families to house. Even if Patton was unable to save his own child, there were hundreds of others he could still help.

A broken laugh left his lips, a sound so full of bitterness that in a different time Patton would have been shocked. Save others? Right. No one even trusted him with his own child, how could the court be convinced that he was the best option for anything? He’d never felt more exhausted in his entire life; every day he was constantly reminded that he wasn’t enough. His family was falling apart, and people were blaming him. Of course they were; he wasn’t even the parent of the baby. No, people were far more concerned about Logan losing his only heir, and how he couldn’t have another because he’d married a man, people were wondering what the real mother thought of her baby dying because she’d been forced to give him up. People loved to talk, to whisper behind his back, and Patton pretended he couldn’t hear them. He’d been pretending for a long time, since the moment he and Logan had announced their relationship. He’d thought that he could handle anything. It turned out that watching his baby boy slowly die was far worse than anything.

“Are you okay?”

A little voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts. There was a child looking at him across the fountain, his big wide eyes full of concern and barely hidden curiosity. For a moment Patton wondered what had prompted the boy’s question, until he realized that there were tears running down his face.

“I..” he started, uncertain of what to say. The boy looked young, barely past toddler age, and Patton was about to ask him about his parents when a young woman approached them. She was wearing an apron over her dress, and there were traces of soap on her arms. She looked tired and worried; the little boy must have escaped towards the park, with her following him. Her dark hair was pulled back, and for a second Patton was reminded of Saphira. Another painful memory. They hadn’t been able to save her, either, and now the child she’d helped bring to the world was suffering from the same illness that had consumed her. .

“Your Highness? I’m sorry if my son interrupted you”

Patton shook his head, unable to speak because of the heaviness in his throat. The woman grabbed the little boy’s hand, but the child was still staring at him.

“Mom, why is he crying?”, he asked. The woman swallowed, looking lost. Patton realized that she didn’t know what to tell to her child. How do you explain a tragedy to a young person? Patton gave the boy a weak smile, before nodding lightly at the woman.

“Someone I love very much is very sick, and I’m sad because of that” he said after a moment. The boy opened his mouth, but offered no reply. He seemed stunned, as if it was the first time he heard something like that. The mom tightened her grip on her son’s hand.

“And who is sick?” he finally asked. The woman sighed.

“Virgil, love, those questions are too personal”. She didn’t sound angry, almost as if she was used to dealing with an inappropriately curious child and was merely reminding him of an old lesson.

“No, it’s okay” said Patton. The boy looked guilty for a moment and Patton didn’t like the way his little face fell. “Virgil, right?”

“Yes! My name is Virgil and I’m three years old” he declared proudly. Patton chuckled, despite the pain in his heart. Would his son ever make it to three?

“Well, Virgil, I have a baby, and my baby is very sick” he said, reaching up to push his glasses on his nose. Virgil now looked a little sad, too. “He is very little, and we’re all worried about him.”

“Oh” said the child. Patton tried to give him a smile, but he couldn’t. He was too tired, and the woman must have seen it, because she pulled the boy aside.

“Go home, love. Soon it will be dinner time, your mom will be looking for you”, she whispered, loud enough for Pattom to hear above the rumor of the fountain. Little Virgil nodded and started running towards the other side of the park, but before the woman or Patton had time to react, he turned around and ran until he was right in front of Patton.

“The magic golden flower can save your baby!” he half screamed, looking back and forth between his mother and Patton.

“Virgil, go, now”. The woman ordered, looking severe for the first time. Virgil ran away, this time non stop until he disappeared down the street.

“What is the magic golden flower?” Patton asked. The woman turned to him and sighed.

“It’s a legend, your Highness”, she answered quietly. “My wife, who’s from the other side of the kingdom, told our son the story of a flower that came from a single drop of sunlight, ages ago. It’s said to be able to heal anything, even the passage of time.”

Patton felt numb. Something that could possibly save his child, even if it was a legend, was too much. The woman was staring at him with sadness in her eyes, but he didn’t care.

“Tell me the whole story, please” he begged. She gave him a worried smile before sitting next to him.

“It’s only a legend. Are you sure you want to hear it?”

“Please. Anything helps, I promise” he was desperate, and he knew it, and he knew she knew it. However, she just sighed once more and looked at him,

“It all starts with the sun”

Taglist:

@depressed-lgbt-cat

@ukuleleanomaly

@heartfelt-piece-of-trash

@dead4sevenyears

@im-a-giraffe666

@journalanxiety

@mycatshuman

Let me know if you want to be added!

[saphirafoxgirlspost1]

(Open Rp) in "Love Lies..and Love Bites"

During the time of the Glorious days of Middleton highschool, Saphira was a High A++ class Student, She made Honors, captain of the Cheer Squad..and a Special Actress in the Drama Class. But She has a Rocky relationship With Ronald Stoppable, She and Ron Had been together Since First grade all the way to Highschool..His Expressions and His Behavior Began to Act Strange, Not Only that But Rumors was Spreading Like Wildfires in Yellowstone Park..Saphira has a Suspection about Ron and Her Own Best friend Kim, Lets just say...Bonnie Rockweller Just telling her Out of her petty Spite Because Ms. Rockweller hated Saphira For her charms and beauty..She Told Saphira that Ron and Kim Is Having an affair to eachother.. but Saphira Didn't believe her, because She knew Damn well that She is trying to Destroy Saphira's Relationship to make her Life a Living Hell, Suddenly..the truth was reveal When it was a time Where Saphira was heading to Prom Waiting for Ron to come to her..But..It took an unfortunate turn,,when she sees Kim and Ron came in, Holding their hands  together..She was Completely Shocked..and Monique, Told her that it was true...turns out Kim possible is pregnant with rons Child..Saphira was So Livid...So Livid..After they both kiss eachother.. Saphira Tackle Kim like a football player and beat the shit out of her..Until Mr. Barkins Pulls her and saphira Said,

Saphira: TELL ME THE DAMN TRUTH!!

Mr. Barkins: Saph.. Calm down.. please..

Saphira; NO Their Both LIED TO ME!!

*Looked at kim angerly..and So does ron.*

Saphira: Kim... Is this true?..Did you and ron..Had an affair?

*Kim Looked at her..in tears..knowing that She is caught redhanded*

Kim:...Yes.. it's true..

Saphira; *Shook her head* So all this.. tutoring with ron.. you made that up...

Kim: yes..*sniffles in tears*..

Saphira; I can't believe it.. *turns to ron* I'm Done with you ron! *turns to kim* And you too!... I'm Done with all Of you!!

Saphira then runs off crying in tears..She grabbed rons bags full of his clothes and all..and throws it at him..and she gives him a tissue and said "Here..if you had..any Souls left...you need these.. I knew I will.." She turns away from Ron and Slammed the Door..She Finally Kicked Ron out of her life..And After graduations.. She expose.. Ron that He's a gold digger and A cheater too...After that.. She gave ron a Curse..that will never be broken for the rest of his Life..After that.. She Left Town..She couldn't even Bare Her Broken heart... She wanted To Make a Fresh Start of her New life, So She decided to Move to a Nice and Joyful place where No Sorrows wasn't allowed in this old Town..A Place is Called "New Orleans". Yep..Home of the Specials Swamps, and Bayous..and even better Places where they have a Special Breakfast, lunch, and Dinner..and the Most of all..A Marti gra Party... So Saphira Lives In the Luxury home..away from the Horrid town middleton..and now lives near the swamps and a Good Old town..But 4 years later..in the beginning of Febuary..everyone was Decorating for Valentines day..Saphira was Pretty lonely..and Now..She began to find a Right guy for herself..So She has to Find a Place Where She can match herself with a dream man for herself..until She sees the Voodoo lady who sees the Future..When she met her name Organa..the Queen Of Voodoo, She Told Saphira That On the 4th of Febuary, The Right man Will Seek you...He's from Middleton..Looking For you and For you only,,,Saphira thought it was strange.. but..She'll take a chance.. and then The next day.. She hears a Phone ring..and she answer it and she said "Hello Fox Resident this is Saphira's Speaking?..." And then the Familiar voice said...

[erobret]

sooooo bc i’m bored and watching game of thrones imma make a list of some of my muses and say whom they’d side with

arya : in truth arya sides with no one and much prefers to be loyal to themselves. however , in my verse kitsunes and dragon’s were close allies and so both were wiped out together . it’s only natural that arya become allied to the dragon’s again , thus allying with dani. 

elsa : in my verse elsa is queen beyond the wall ( not associated with king beyond the wall ). given up by her parents at a young age when her powers were discovered they gave her up to the land beyond and was found by the night king who’s powers could not touch her. she hated being among the dead and so she’d end up siding with jon & dani to defeat them because out of everyone in my verse she knows the dangers the most.

kaida : in my verse kaida was the first dragon and true mother to all dragons. she’d hunt down her children and determine if dani be worthy of the blood that flows through her veins. ofc she does and thus allies with them.

merida : in my verse all is the same except she rules bear island ( wanted to make her a wildling but wanted to keep her princess turned warrior thing ). in all honesty she’d side with sansa & arya but wouldn’t be afraid to fight alongside jon. she’d also freak out in a good way over seeing dani’s dragons

saphira : in my verse saphira is a very old dragon whom went into hiding when the dragons began to be killed. she’s old and wise and holds the ability to speak with her mind. obviously she’ll side with dani

san : totes have her as a wildling who was raised by direwolves. as wild as they come. she wouldn’t trust humans right away but i believe she’d side with the starks.

holo ( whenever she sends me a spark of life ) : with her being the reason the starks’ sigil is that of a direwolf ofc she’d side with them and watch over them.

wrathia : she’d side with no one and would much rather see everything burn . she does hate the night king however and would want to see all nightwalkers destroyed ( so she could be the only real threat to the lands ). low-key would probs fancy cersei’s methods and such

[fayofavalon]

◈✮❤ღ

◈  ━ share some headcanons that you have for a muse of your choosing

Saphira -- Daughter to Merlin and Morgana. She once had a pure heart, but after her first husband died she blamed magick for not being able to save him as well as the gods and her parents. She turned on them all and married Lucifer but eventually tricks and kills him to own hell herself to destroy magick, and every religion.Morgana Pendragon - She is supposed to hate Merlin and she does according to Morgause, but without her knowing, both Merlin and Morgana meet up to talk things over but always end up sleeping together under the stars, and Morgause only finds out when she sees Morgana is with child.

✮ ━ top three favorite muses that you’ve played 

Oooo thats hard. I would have to say Morgana, Queen Mab and Lilith, though closely followed by the Morrigan and Evelyn.

❤ ━ do you have any crackships for your muse? 

Yes I really do!! Dean and Morgana. They both have very similar personalities. They are like a partner in crime sort of thing and well only Morgana could keep up with Dean’s mad drinking skills at a bar! This is all thanks to @regardiingdean

Harley Quinn and Morgana as well! They are so blunt with each other its unreal and they don’t care. They speak the truth and thats what they like about each other, at least they can trust each other that way, and plus have you known anyone else to trash the place for a pair of gloves? This is all down to @funfataleFiona and Morgana omg especially as teenagers their excitement to put together the best party in the world is just perfection in the world, and their ways to get what they want are just so... them! Together these girls could literally rule the world, all thanks to @chosedarknesss !!

ღ ━ favorite canon ships for your muse(s). are there any you dislike?

MORGANA AND MERLIN. YES. Also Morgana and Arthur (Don’t judge me pls omg) also Morgana and OLDER Mordred. Any that I dislike? Yes, Mordred and Kara. He turned on Camelot for a woman that chose hate over his love, and its her fault it all happened.

[xchaosincarnate-blog]

Unexpected Temptation (CH 1)

Some say the world will end in fire, some say it will end in ice. According to Norse mythology, it is Loki who will bring about its demise; known as Ragnarok. In Greek mythology, it is assumed the Titans were responsible for the complete destruction of all realms, and all life within each. The reality is who really knows, who or what will be the cause and when it will happen. Unless there is solid evidence others should not place blame or assume. It is an insult to the divine, but then again no one cares about the Titans, for they have caused much havoc for all pantheons. Anyhow, enough about all that dreadful stuff let's get to the actual story instead of dull possible historical events, shall we?

 Two siblings had grown exhausted, tired of all the drama in both of their home realms. Having been raised on Olympus and Asgard may have had its advantages occasionally, but there was one major problem. If it wasn't their parents bickering like insolent children, then it was other family members or just other deities in general. They were always fighting about or over something, no matter how small or how large. After centuries of being forced to tolerate such pathetic behavior, the two mixed pantheon children had decided to leave both realms behind in search for another. It was tragic, yet embarrassing that their own kind all acted so foolish. The goal was to find a more tranquil, and serene realm to settle in. The only issue that the two had run into, was that no one respected mixed pantheon offspring, let alone the two children who had been conceived during a night of drunken stupidity between Loki, Norse Trickster God Of Illusions, Mischief, and Chaos and Athena, Greek Goddess of Warfare and Wisdom. After a year of traveling, the two found the 'perfect' place... Alfheimr.

 Little did they know at the time, was that the kind-hearted princess who had welcomed them with open arms had plans of her own and that they involved their father. So much for hoping for any semblance of true peace and quiet. Now, the two were going to get dragged into some other nonsense. Their father had been branded a traitor, and everyone assumed he had died to save Thor and his mortal..leaving the Aesir very perplexed... but being his children they knew he was alive and well. They also knew the truth of what really happened that day, and let's just say it's not what everyone thinks. Apparently, so did another due to being a powerful sorceress who was almost as cunning and intelligent as Loki himself. Only time will tell how this all unfolds, and what will happen in the near future. Everything will be complicated that much is certain.

 Saphira tilted her head to the side keeping her emotions guarded, a masked facade as her emerald golden flecked gaze peered at the two cross pantheon siblings with interest as they spoke of their request to dwell amongst the citizens of her home realm. Alfheimr had been at peace with no conflicts pending for quite some time, and allowing the prodigy of Loki to remain could cause some complications she had her own reasons for doing what she did next. The decision did not come without some intense scheming on her end though. Her lips curled upward into a false warming smile as she stood inclining her head respectfully as per custom when greeting others of a royal stature.

 Her father was off taking care of political matters, and would not return for a long while leaving her to rule in his stead. Sometimes that man was far too trusting, despite knowing how rebellious his daughter could be. Internally she laughed at the very thought. Saphira was cunning and often did as she pleased regardless of the consequences. Ideally, she dealt with whatever happened when it mattered or when she felt like doing so. Being the daughter of a king had its perks. The citizens adored and respected her thankfully, which made everything that much easier to get away with. She would never allow any harm to come to Alfheim, no matter her choices, however. She loved her home realm and its people.

 Speaking smoothly and in a light tone. " It is a pleasure to meet you Prince Aeolos and Princess Celeste. Welcome to Alfheim, please stay as long as you would like. " She paused for a moment to glance at the guard who had just entered the room before returning her focus back upon the two younger deities, " Just keep in mind that no harm or betrayal will be tolerated. " Aeolos looked over at his sister briefly who looked just as re-leaved as he felt. It had been a long journey for them both. Some relaxation would do them some good. The siblings returned the elegant bow of the Ljósálfar princess, currently the acting queen. " Thank you kindly Princess Saphira, " they said in unison.

 Saphira nodded lightly before making her way towards the guard. The expression on the man's face was one of confusion and perhaps conflict. " Your majesty, we may have a problem... it has come to the attention of the council that Asgard's heir Prince Thor has abandoned his role to assist Midgard and that Odin stepped down pardoning the exiled Prince Loki of all crimes for saving Thor's life during a recent war and helping to prevent the destruction of Asgard in killing Kurse. Apparently, he almost perished himself but was discovered and healed. The All Father has officially declared him fit to rule the Realm Eternal, " the man declared in a tone that suggested he did not find this news pleasant in the least.

  Saphira on the other hand was ecstatic by this new turn of events, however, she kept her facade a blank canvas aside from the brief flicker of keen interest in her gaze. " I see... perhaps I shall go investigate these matters. Thank you for the information, you are dismissed." Her tone suggested that it would be wise to leave the matter be, and not attempt to comment on her decision. The guard was stunned at how his princess reacted, not seeming to be concerned in the least. Aeolos inched towards his sister not saying a word about what the two of them had just witnessed. However, that flicker in Saphira's eyes had not gone unnoticed by either sibling. It was a very familiar look. This woman, this goddess reminded them way too much of their father.. almost like two twin souls. If they allied together it could potentially cause complete chaos if anyone angered or betrayed them. They had already witnessed what could happen if their father was angry and betrayed, but what about Saphira? What a frightening thought, they both thought while remaining silent.

 Aeolos and Celeste had always been much closer to Loki than they had been with Athena therefore, they understood things better than most. Loki was a very complex being, and so were the two of them. Now, it appeared as though there was someone else very similar. How peculiar, and interesting. Aeolos was more like Loki than Celeste, who was more like Athena as far as personality traits go. Despite, being non-identical twins they still had their differences.

 " I would like for the two of you to join me tomorrow morning to speak with your father, " Saphira requested as she watched them intently before adding, " Meet me at the Bifrost site after breakfast. In the meantime let me show you to your chambers in the palace and introduce you to your private handmaidens." Saphira led them through the intricately designed ivory and silver painted halls, towards the royal quarters where their separate yet adjacent rooms awaited. After complementing the beauty that is Alfheim, and being introduced to the handmaidens they thanked Saphira kindly before parting ways with her until the following morning.

 Unfortunately, for Saphira she was not the only one who had been doing some investigating, nor was she the only clever being in existence. She was very subtle and obviously knew what she was doing he would give her at least that much credit just not openly of course. No one had come closer to almost outwitting him then she had, and in doing so she captured his attention. She may soon learn to regret the fact that she had. During his observations, he had come to learn that she was, in fact, a master of seidr, a prodigy like himself. Deception and manipulation were amongst his many skills. If there was a way he could bend her to his will, and use her for his own purposes whatever they may be he'd find it.

 Her problem was that she was already fascinated by him, which made things so much easier for him to control. The seed had already been planted; the scheming had already been started. Let the games begin, he thought as his thin lips curled upward into a sly and mischievous, almost devious smirk. Too bad she had not spotted the traitor in her midst. The following day was bound to bring about some sort of entertainment, but it was better than all the dullness before it. The Aesir could be terribly boring, and they seriously lacked any sort of legitimate sense of humor. On the plus side, his children were with the naive princess and it had been some time since he'd seen either of them.

 Somewhere else, in a realm separate from all others someone was planning and gathering allies for something that had the potential to destroy everyone and everything. Soon, choices and sacrifices were going to happen even if they were unwelcome. Of course, none of this would be found out until much later. Let the games and complications begin.

A/N: https://www.wattpad.com/user/xChaosIncarnate

        https://chaosincarnatecreativewriting.wordpress.com/

[carlerinle]

The Sin Against the Holy Spirit

Friday 14th September 2018

Text – Matt. 12:32 – “And whosoever speaketh a word against the Son of man, it shall be forgiven him: but whosoever speaketh against the Holy Ghost, it shall not be forgiven him, neither in this world, neither in the world to come.”

Many Christians have lived their righteous lives in fear of this particular sin, the blasphemy against the Holy Spirit. Is this fear warranted? What exactly is the blasphemy against the Holy Spirit?

The word “blasphemy” means “evil speaking,” or “defiant irreverence.” God expressly forbade the children of Israel from blaspheming His name; it was a crime punishable by death (Lev. 24:10-16). The Israelites were to worship and obey God. in the back story to our focal text, Jesus talks about the sin against the Holy Spirit when the Pharisees, despite knowing that a miracle had been done, chose instead to allege that Jesus had done the miracle by the power of Beelzebub, and that He was possessed (Mk. 3:30).

First, blasphemy is a wilful sin, that is, it has to be committed intentionally, so if you’re worried you might commit this particular sin, you very probably won’t. Second, this particular sin that Jesus was referring to here can never be committed again. This is because the Pharisees blasphemed by having witnessed undeniable proof of Jesus Himself working miracles through the power of the Holy Spirit, and yet went ahead to accuse Jesus of being demon-possessed rather than Spirit-filled, deliberately misappropriating that power of the Holy Spirit to the devil. Mk. 3:30 explains that this was the reason Jesus spoke about the blasphemy against the Holy Spirit. This sin can only be repeated if Jesus were to bodily reappear on earth, and do a miracle, and the same accusation is given.

We should be very careful to judge a miracle as the work of the devil. Let your conviction from your spirit, before you make such a claim. However, there are other points of caution regarding our relationship with the Holy Spirit. Don’t lie to the Holy Spirit.. Even if your actions may seem to be okay, let your heart be truthful. The Holy Spirit killed Ananias and Saphira because they lied to Him. Don’t grieve the Holy Spirit. He is a gentle spirit, and will not force anyone to do what He wants. Obey His instructions. Whatever He says, that you should do. One other way we can grieve the Holy Spirit is when we harbour secret sins, that is, as a believer, you persist in habits that are harmful to your spiritual walk. The more you grieve the Spirit, the more likely you are to quench the Spirit. The Spirit here is likened to a fire. The longer you shut your ears to His nudgings, the easier it is for your conscience to become hardened and unresponsive. At that point, that believer has quenched the Spirit.

But we have this confidence, that our senses are alive to God, we are responsive to His leading. We love and honor Him with our lives and all else, and so we are sensitive to the promptings of the Spirit, and we therefore please Him. Grieving Him is far from us, let alone blaspheming Him. We are not among those that live however we want to. The Holy Spirit in us fills our hearts with God’s love, and we are obedient to every leading of the Holy Spirit. We remain accepted in the beloved.  Praise the Lord.

God bless you. Have a blessed day.