#from inheritance cycle?

[cs-cabin-and-crew]

So smol, so precious… tiny baby

[crustaceousfaggot]

Hey did anyone else read this scene as a kid and get hit with a sort of soul-deep primal longing that stuck with them well into adulthood

[glbtrx]

Nasuada: what are those dead bodies doing here!?

Murtagh: honestly? Not much

[notyourmusebby]

Father - Son together again 😌

[clarissaweasley-10]

Here is your reading dose of motivation: Max fell for Xander while he just had one effing eyebrow. There's still some hope out there folks don't loose faith.

[literalite]

in case i can't think of an actual good way to edit them this is the eragon cast in the sims as i envisioned them as a kid

[alagaesia-headcanons]

I have a ride or die headcanon that little Murtagh was obsessed with Morzan’s dragon. He absolutely loved him.

Murtagh sees him often enough from a young enough age that he’s never scared of him. So naturally, he’s absolutely enamored with the huge, beautiful, glittery, fire breathing monster that hangs out outside the house. He’s kept at a distance, but he’s still the dragon’s biggest fan. Murtagh’s very upset to learn that he doesn’t have a name which feels very unfair to him, so he musters up all his creativity and dubs him “Red”.

Morzan doesn’t always travel with his dragon when he leaves the estate, depending on what he needs to do. So sometimes the dragon stays and rests while Morzan is gone. During one such time, when Selena is also away on a mission, a freshly 3 year old Murtagh escapes his nurses and goes to Red. He’s careful at first, testing the waters gently, then getting increasingly close and comfortable with him when Red seems utterly unbothered. He’s no more than an ant next to the dragon’s enormous size. Murtagh is immediately in love, clambering all over him and constantly babbling to him, undeterred by the lack of response.

The servants do eventually find him after a frantic search. Morzan’s dragon doesn’t like any of the staff, so despite letting Murtagh nestle into the crook of his foreleg, he snarls and snaps at anyone who tries to get close enough to retrieve him. The servants are stuck in a grim dilemma, because no one’s willing to test the limits of a gargantuan, irascible dragon, and they don’t have anything to bribe Murtagh with that’s cooler than said dragon, so he refuses to budge. They’re absolutely terrified the dragon will kill him, either inadvertently or not.

After three full days of Murtagh glued to Red’s side, remaining miraculously unsquished, Morzan returns. The servants are in a cold sweat, stuttering and shaking like leaves in a storm as they try to explain that his son is fine, there’s no need for alarm, but there may be just a small issue. He goes to his partner and does with insulting ease what the staff have fruitlessly tried for three days, he steps right in and scoops Murtagh up. He looks completely unkempt and ignoble, dirty and scraped from being outside the whole time, giggling unrepentantly and singing Red’s praises.

To the servants great luck, Morzan finds this all quite amusing. Carrying Murtagh back to the house, he accuses, “Trying to replace me as the dragon Rider, are you?” and Murtagh cries, “Yes! Take me flying!” Morzan says that he will, but it never happens.

Selena is less thrilled when she learns of this, also afraid that the dragon might kill Murtagh in a moment of annoyance. But Murtagh adores him and she can’t reliably keep him away, so she tries to accept the incongruous match. Red doesn’t show any perceptible warmth to him, and yet he makes the effort to keep tabs on him and stops him from doing anything too dangerous. Of course, since the banishing of the names stunted his mind, the dragon doesn’t have any nuanced opinion of Murtagh, but he can recognize that his little ant feels incapable of malice and he comes to like Murtagh in the way he can. Learning of Red’s death on top of the loss of both his parents utterly devastates Murtagh.

After a little while in Uru’baen, Tornac asks Murtagh which parent he was closer to, and Murtagh tells him Morzan’s dragon. Tornac takes a very long, very strained breath, thinking Oh dear gods help me I have so much fucking work to do.

[saphira-approves]

I’d love to know Rhünon’s thoughts on how Riders name their swords. Does she have a no-judgement policy? Did Vrael have to sit her down for a chat when her bluntness reduced twelve new Riders into tears because of their terrible name choices? I mean, just look at Brom and Morzan:

Morzan: I name this blade Misery, for misery it shall bring to all my enemies!

Brom: And I’ll name mine Void-biter, for its edge carries the bite of death!

Rhünon, bribed copiously by Vrael to keep her thoughts to herself: Who let these edgelords have dragons—

[mist-the-wannabe-linguist]

There has been only one time I saw my father angry. The weather was foul and he was late on his trip to the butcher's. I was terribly hungry. The dog was only a little bigger than me. Father found me on the floor, blood dripping from my beak, a sight probably not much different from wolves crouching over killed lambs that I have seen many times since. He rushed toward me and tore me away from the dead dog, demanding in a harsh voice to explain what have I done. I was not afraid, but the image of the man I knew was changed. I did not like it. I stood motionlessly, same as him, staring at him like he stared at the half-eaten corpse, until his shoulders sagged and he turned to me with a sigh. "No, it is wrong to blame you. I never explained to you why we eat only some animals. Please forgive me." He knelt on the floor and I carefully approached him until I was close enough for him to take my hand. I sat down even closer and let him wipe the blood off my beak. "Do you understand why I was angry?" His voice no longer held any anger. This was another lesson. Yes, I signed. Speaking required effort I was not in a state to make. You liked the dog. While he continued to clean my face, I stared at what I could see of the dog from behind his back. I recalled those speckled paws leaning against my father's chest to welcome him home every day. I had held no affection for the dog since it had always avoided me with clear distrust, but it had always been affectionate with father. And now all of that would be gone only due to my impatience. I signed again. I am sorry. My father paused and looked me in the eyes. "It's alright. I forgive you."

Thank you @eastern-lights for the corrections! (and sorry for the emotional damage I keep inflicting on you)

[gingermintpepper]

Recently, I've been thinking a lot about lineage curses.

The line of Ouranos is infested with curses - generational malice that's sunk its claws in deep and cannot be cleansed. I think of it as a curse of love - an affliction that is something like a paternal equivalent to postpartum depression - the men of the line of Ouranos were, for a time, unable to bond with their children. Ouranos himself adored his wife but despised his children from the moment they were born. It was disgust perhaps. Or maybe plain fear. Or maybe there was no reason but a deep wrongfulness that he could only attribute to the birth of his new children. But he hated them and his hatred bred hatred. His hatred bred Kronos.

Kronos oddly, is the spitting image of his father. Why he would so exactly resemble the father he despised, who knows, but he married a goddess of the earth - the mirror image of his mother - he loved his wife and his people - the mirror image of his father - and, like that father, all his kindness and good sense died the moment he became a father. What was it about Ouranos' blood that made Kronos mimic even the method of torment? To lock his children away in the dark, cold emptiness of his stomach. To feed them the same doubts and fears that his brothers were fed as babes? What anguish paranoia must be to turn the Golden King into a shaking, spitting beast.

That, then, is the fate written deep in the blood of Zeus. Great king, destined to be overthrown by his children. Great king, doomed to live in fear of the son that would rend him limb from limb and scatter his sex to the ravens. Ah, but what is Zeus if not an enigma. That strange child fed on goat's manna and raised by his mother - is that the difference? That Zeus alone was showered in the hopes and dreams of his mother - that his father was nothing but a target to kill, an opponent for him to conquer. Is that why his curse of love mutated not to encompass his children but his lovers? What other name is there for he who eats his wife to gain her wisdom? What other name but cursed is he who pursues the stars until she becomes dead ground? And when he has a child who is his spitting image, dark eyed and blood-heeled, what can he do but hate?

(Zeus, at least, battles the demons in his blood on his own. Maybe that is the mother in him. Maybe that is why he swallowed Metis while she was still rich with their child. Maybe swallowing a mother restored that missing paternal hole all his father's line had simply been made without. Maybe that's what he tells himself when he looks upon his children and knows he's made things different for them, no matter how much he dreams of keeping them locked in a cool, dark place, pretty in display cases just for him. Maybe that's just his father in him.)

[solarisetlesetoiles]

RGB squad for mermay :D

[sergeantsporks]

This is getting embarrassing

[mattizard]

I want a book about Broms life so bad man

[almaadst]

I finished the commission for TerratheTerrable on Deviantart! This is Torch Dakari (Star Wars OC)  and Arya from the Inheritance Cycle! I really enjoy the combination of browns and greens! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) Also, I am a big sucker for battle poses (*￣3￣)╭ Other: Commission info Supergirl and Revan  “Apotheosis” cover  PLEASE DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT MY or OWNER PERMISSION

[clarissaweasley-10]

Some TIG/TGG Incorrect Quotes cuz l'm bored (enjoyy :D)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Grayson: I'm going to ask you to be respectful.

Lyra : I will politely decline.

Avery: All the snacks are gone Jameson: I am literally right here?

Hairdresser: How would you like your hair cut? Savannah: Preferably with scissors but a sword would be badass

Savannah: Don't worry I have a permit Rohan: This just says "I can do what I want" Gigi : Are you listening to me? Grayson: nods Gigi : What did I just say? Grayson: nods Gigi : …

Lyra: BE A BETTER PERSON! Grayson: WHY?! Lyra: BECAUSE SOMEONE NEEDS TO HAVE MORALS IN THIS RELATIONSHIP, AND IT SURE AS FUCK AIN'T GONNA BE ME, SWEETHEART!

Jameson falls over Nash: Jameson! Are you alright? Jameson: Is that you, God? Nash: What? Jameson: It's just, you sound a lot more like Nash than I expected.

Jameson: You need to be more careful! Grayson, who was dragged into Jameson's issue: Careful? CAREFUL?! I'LL CAREFULLY WRAP MY HANDS AROUND YOUR THROAT-

Grayson: My back hurts. Xander, walking into the room: Take the spine out.

Xander: Onion rings are vegetable donuts. Nash, used to Xander being dumb: Sure… Xander: Your stomach thinks all potatoes are mashed. Nash: Okay? Xander: Lasagna is spaghetti flavored cake. Nash: Xander: Lobsters are mermaid scorpio- Nash: Jesus, that one is a little- Jameson, interested: No, no, Xander, keep going.

Avery: Who's in charge here? Jameson, shrugging: Usually whoever yells the loudest.

Avery : Do you know the ABCs of first aid? Jameson: A. Bone. Coming.out of the skin is very bad.

[taka-chan]

i cannot help but keep giggling about how elves are like eragon-universe version of mental gurus. like the equivalent of ppl going to Bali, coming back saying they reconnected with their inner self. imagine random citizen of alagaesia whose life had been positively going to shit, so they travel to the woods bout to get their third eye open and they return after weeks, never the same, because elves introduced them to meditation and drugs