#modern inheritance cycle

[insanity-all-the-time]

"in a modern au eragon would be a soldier" "no he would be a student" "absolutely not he would be an unemployed loser"

No.

your all wrong he would be entomologist

A N T S

[inheritance-cycles]

Modern Inheritance Cycle AU || Arya

@weirdponytail [insert clever Arya quote from one of Ket’s fics]

Please don’t repost without permission.

[modern-inheritance]

I said i don't do faces and i fuckin meant it.

you can, however, see the barest bit of sideburns lol

[weirdponytail]

Working on bringing a new concept in with the Riders Signs. Not linked to the Riders really, but a method of reading and understanding body language that is ‘encoded’ in a way. I like to imagine that Brom, Arya and Glen spent years working on developing it between them, and once they had it down they spread it to a select few trusted members of the Varden and elves. For when even Riders Signs would be too obvious, in case of capture and oaths, it combines body language, small facial tics, muscle movements, and, most importantly, relies on the user having at least some previous experience with mental communication and direct eye contact.

It’s basically reading micro expressions but with more direct and specific words rather than involuntary emotions. When free to do so the sender can ‘pulse,’ sending a simplistic thought phrase that lingers like a ‘ghost’ due to the visual cues indicating the idea or thought pulsed out. It does not require lowering mental barriers for either on the message chain, though clarity is improved when the sender opens their barriers to send the pulse.

The pulse has a limited range, and thus is not a true requirement of this new method but it helps when the recipient or the sender are not completely comfortable with the method yet or when more complex things need to be communicated. Even with a pulse, these ghost messages and visual cues can only communicate a handful of words at a time, usually only one or two sentences.

At this point, Eragon (and Saphira) are unaware that Brom has been subtly teaching them this odd language without words. He didn’t want them having knowledge of what it really was just in case they were captured and Eragon’s mind was broken. This Eragon understands but has no idea how or why.

[modern-inheritance]

I want this happening multiple times in MIC, btw. It's canon. Unless Eragon, Arya, Brom, Glen, or Blodhgarm explicity tell Saphira to fly someone out of harm's reach (usually just up and up until out of range), then this is what Saphira does. Good ol' tail sweep to get them in wing-tuck range against her side. Her Protec Mode is primarily body and scale based so...it does work! Especially if you get them up near the flight arm, there is no WAY they are going to push past the force of her downward sweep flight muscles, elf or not!

One of my fav things from the first Eragon book:

When Eragon sees the Urgal footprint and tells Saphira to get Brom to safety and she just grabs Brom and presses him against her with her wings without telling him why and won't let him go before Eragon tells her to. That's just peak "Eragon and Saphira share one (1) braincell and she didn't have it at that time". Also I wanna know what went on in Broms head. One moment he's making a campfire, the next moment his son's dragon snatches him up and won't let him go.

[good-morzan-inheritance-cycle]

Got my driver’s license, so yall getting a Modern ‘Good’ Morzan AU, and who drives like what.

Eragon: blasts music like there’s no tomorrow. Might be deaf at this point, but the ADHD must be silenced with rock songs.

Murtaugh: terrified of turning left, but other than that he’s a decent driver. He can’t remember the last time he’s ever did an oil change on the car.

Brom: “don’t turn on your turn signal, that’s how people know where you’re going.”™️

Puts everyone in music timeout if he misses a turn

Arya: only one who can ACTUALLY drive. But she does go fast.

Morzan: hits a curb and goes ‘oopsie’. If he crashes and dies, just know he went out like a man (he’s belting Madonna)

Oromis: had his license taken away, but will still judge your driving even if he’s wrong.

Nasuada: passenger princess. In fact, she never even got her permit. But she doesn’t need one as everyone just drives her where they wanna go, because she’s the one that orders for you at a restaurant, and knows how to do an oil change.

Roran: can’t drive a small car, but can drive a tractor like a race car, and has a pickup truck that’s so busted up you don’t even know how it’s still running. It’s living off blood, sweat, tears, and the power of god.

[thearunadragon]

Remind me to draw Arya projecting her period cramps onto Eragon

The best part is that it's canonically possible to do this

that is evil

…

and I could 100% see a comic strip being posted about this somewhere lmao

[modern-inheritance]

I’ve been slipping lately, but Eragon is like this. With a very interesting exception that seems to subvert it.

When Eragon REALLY swears, it’s in the old language. As in, the original dialect passed down by the people of Mad King Palancar from the first human lands. It’s not spoken as a full language anymore really, but in Palancar Valley, and especially the more remote villages tucked into or up against the Spine, it’s still wedged into phrases, curses, and daily chatter here or there with a word or two.

Brom still uses it more than anyone else, though it’s more of him trying to keep the language alive. Roran uses it with Horst and other leaders of Carvahal as their own coded language when they want or need to have privacy while among the Varden, and this actually revives it among the villagers enough that most can now speak in sentences that are more Old Tongue than Common.

Eragon, though, primarily uses it for swearing when things get particularly bad. Even Saphira picks up on it, delighting in the way the words feel in her mind.

Still one of my favorite details of Garrus’ writing is that one of his go to curses is crap.

Flubbing in flirting? Crap

Mech showing up for a fight? Crap

About to get blown up by a bomb? Crap

[umunschaas]

Why was Morzan holding a frog in his hand in your fanfic "Side by Side"? 👀

(He sounded like a little kid who wanted to show someone sth cool he had found)

(How do I answer questions about my weird ideas that stab me out of nowhere and absolutely have to be in the fic because otherwise my brain will pout?)

In part, it was a nod towards another fic of mine (where teen Morzan dropped off a bunch of frogs in Oromis' office, together with a bowl of water. Where the hell did he find all the frogs in Ilirea? I don't know.). But I also hc him as liking animals in general, with a few exceptions like bugs (and horses, depending on the AU). The frog might have gotten trapped somewhere and Morzan was carrying him back to the pond... or maybe he was showing him the garden xD. Who knows.

[where-dreamers-go]

"Here And There" Eragon x Modern! Reader Part Two

(A/N: We’re back to Mount Arngor with sometimes clumsy Modern Reader who was appointed ambassador by Queen Nasuada. Neither Eragon or Reader know Nasuada’s full intentions of sending you there, but it’s definitely a lingering thought. Warnings: Minor language and angst. Word Count: 2,658 words)

Lit lanterns and a memorized path away from you room assisted you in heading for the main areas inside the fortress. Too bad none of those things were able to help you get out at an earlier time. Easy, easy, you told yourself as you reached the last step of a stairway. A relieved and proud smile reached your lips. See? Doable. But did Eragon see that? No. Taking a turn down a passageway, you keep your pace even and quick. You didn’t want to be the last one there. It’s better than arriving hours after everyone else, you reminded yourself. Not that you had done so. I can’t sleep-in much here anyway. Who’d want to? You adjusted the bag’s strap on your shoulder, lightweight for where you were heading on such a clear morning. Voices and sounds carried themselves from other areas of the fortress. Mount Arngor’s more social areas. A reminder of how large the community had become. Some larger than others. Some…altogether surprising.

Close to the ground, a dark shape stepped into your path. Caught off guard, you yelped before realizing what exactly you were seeing. A purple and blue dragon hatchling about the height of a German Shepard, glanced your way and tilted their head. Light danced across their youthful scales almost magically. You exhaled calmly. “You’re cute, you know that?” The hatchling did a small bounce in place. Effectively making your heart melt. “I’ll take that as a yes.” You chuckled and carefully walked around the hatchling. “Have fun today.” With a garble of a response, the dragon hatchling bounded off down the hall you already traveled. At least they give the elves a run for their…well, not money, but, you lightly scratched your ear in thought. A lot of running, I guess. One of the hatchlings did find the food storage the other day. Despite how cute and funny it was, there very well could be serious consequences if a large amount of food had been…destroyed. The community in Arngor still had a ways to go. Every ounce of supplies, tools, and food were important. Resources couldn’t be wasted. Which was why you were lending a hand. Well, a little more than that.

Passing through a wide courtyard and waving to the other ambassador in greeting, you hurried towards the steps that lead further down the mountain. Always so many steps. Your intention? To reach the fields beyond. You wanted to help tend to the crops. I can’t be writing letters for Queen Nasuada and notes for myself all day. Steadily down you went. One step at a time. An easy rhythm and pace as you breathed in the fresh air. Smiling whilst hearing birds chirp and sing in-between many trees. The sluicing of the water container in your bag. And no honking of horns or sirens. No traffic either. Just small dragons lurking—exploring — who-knows-where on the mountain. Just another normal day living on Elëa. Where winter were freezing and summers were hot on many continents. Not that Eragon knew specific details of the world. Not that anyone around you might know that. You weren’t going to bring it up in conversation. Thus far, you hadn’t messed up nor revealed any information you deemed classified. You were not about to start.

Everything’s going pretty darn well. Shades of green was all laid out in front of you. Trees, bushes, and grass in the lively environment. A distant figure with brown hair. Only a few steps away from green—until it wasn’t. The heel of your shoe skidded off of the step you were meant to take. All your weight and momentum followed the pull of gravity. A force you could not see. But you sure as heck tried to best it. One frustrated yelp, a curse, and a broken twig later, you found yourself staring up into the blue sky. “Why?” You questioned to the universe. Sighing, you didn’t bother wondering how your shoe was caught in another bush near you. You only tried tugging yourself out of it. Blur of movement caught your attention. Why? To your great embarrassment, Eragon had rushed over to you. Groaning, you covered your face with both hands just as the Dragon Rider knelt beside your form. “Are you alright?” Eragon asked. “I’m fine,” you nearly groaned again. “I swear I don’t trip over everything.” “This wasn’t a trip.” Eragon said. You felt a pressure around your foot before your shoe was freed from foliage. “It’s an embarrassment,” you murmured. Dropping your hands, you pushed yourself to sit up. How could you even meet his gaze? Once again you were seen accidentally hurting yourself, however mildly. Severely embarrassing. All in front of him. “It’s a rarity,” he claimed. “Huh?” You gaze snapped up to his as confusion settled over you. “It’s rare that anyone who should fall as you did…not be injured.” Eragon clarified before grabbing your hands and pulling you to your feet in one smooth motion. If you didn’t notice the heat on your neck before, you definitely felt it rush across your skin then. It refused to fade even as Eragon released your hands. The Dragon Rider offered you a small smile. “Thank you,” you said before brushing your hands over your clothes. “You’re welcome.” He offered your bag, held up by two fingers. You sighed. Eragon only smiled more as you grabbed your bag. “Are you still to join us?” “And probably trip into the soil? Sure.” You shrugged, not sure if you were entirely kidding. There was no telling what would happen every second of the day. “That might be the faster way to tend to the crops,” he quipped. You openly gawked at him. Smile still present, the Dragon Rider wandered in the direction of the tended land. Did he just…? Oh, that’s not fair. You narrowed your eyes lightheartedly. Him and his cute, fluffy hair. You paused mid-step and patted your head. Okay. Good. No leaves.

. . .

The afternoon sun shone brightly across the fields as they were being tended to. A light breeze tickled nearby trees. Pleasant temperatures for time spent outside. They look so similar, you thought after squinting up at the sun. Not for more than half a second, mind you. Not a cloud in the sky. Even with dirty hands and shoes, you were happy with your decision to help out. Some amongst you sang between plants while others swapped stories. A content community. “How’s the weather?” Eragon asked with a growing smirk. A playful Dragon Rider kneeling beside a healthy sprout. Brown eyes watching you. It took a second for you to recognize his double meaning. The inside joke. “Fine.” You tossed a leaf his way, partially successful as it almost reached him. “How are the earthworms?” You countered and tossed weed aside. “Fairing well,” Eragon answered with a simple nod, “I haven’t received any complaints.” “Oh.” “Why?” He exaggerated his tone. “Did you hear anything?” Turning your head, you snickered into your shoulder. Fully prepared for questions, formal talk, and even the occasional sass; you were no where near ready for Eragon joking with you. It warmed your heart never the less. For you knew he was content. “You’re a trip, you know that?” You wagged an index finger at him. “A trip?” Oh, right. You straightened to your full height, ready to explain. “Are you blaming me for your tumbles down stairs?” He challenged with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes and not moving away from the green plant. Ill-prepared for his playfulness indeed. Looking at Eragon, truly looking at him, made the entire situation seem dreamlike. The young man was working the soil and his brown eyes appeared golden in sunlight. All bright, content, and living as if the load on his shoulders wasn’t too heavy to bare. How could he hide so much of his worries and past behind a smile you could hardly remember reading of? What made him open up in this way? You swallowed. Why did Nasuada want to keep tabs on finer details of Eragon’s new home? Tilting your head slightly, you answered the Rider. “I wouldn’t blame the person who has actually saved me from falling forward. I might be clumsy at times, but I’m not foolish. And you’re —” His eyebrows rose expectantly. You cleared your throat and stepped over to pull out more weeds. “You’re also not foolish.” Your gaze set on your task. After a moment, you half thought he might have something to add, but the banter ended as fast as it started. Way to compliment him, you sassed yourself.

. . .

Hours after the sun had set in the West and the people of Mount Arngor were relaxing for the night, you sat in your usual seat away from the fire. Close enough for conversation or peace. A group of urgals sat together enjoying the rest after a long day. No sight of any elves or dragons. Some dwarves off in a corner were deep in conversation with the other ambassador sent by Queen Nasuada. Rolling your shoulders, you stretched out your aching muscles. All that pulling and bending down, you thought, and I forgot how many stairs between the fields and my room. I better sleep like a rock tonight. You rubbed your knuckle into the side of your thigh. “This must be why leg day is a thing,” you muttered. “I’m surprised.” Jolting in your seat, you peered to your side to see the leader of Mount Arngor. “Surprised?” “You’re not writing.” Eragon pulled up a chair beside you. “Oh.” “I presumed you wrote everyday.” “I do.” You sat up straighter. “Maybe not so often each day.” He adjusted himself in the seat and let out a short chuckle. “I don’t see how you or anyone can write so often without tiring. My wrist grows sore with speaking of writing.” “Try shaking your hands…like if they’re wet. Rubbing circles into your hand or wrist kind of helps.” His eyebrows pinched together. “Do you know healing as well?” “Don’t quote me on anything. Some of it’s from experience and other stuff I don’t remember if I learned it or read something somewhere.” “Did you have much access to knowledge where you’re from?” His brown eyes bore into you with growing curiosity. Question time. Lounging back a bit, you answered, “More than I knew what to do with and more than I could ever completely read.” Confusion and awe flashed across his features. He likely expected a simple answer. Hands flexing on his lap, he did not add a response. You smiled. “There are some amazing libraries, books from floor to ceiling, that… I really wish I could have at least seen in person.” Your gaze fell to the floor, images of beautifully intricately designed libraries flashing through your mind like a smooth slideshow. The calm and comfortably warm atmosphere slowly brought you into a haze of memories. Borrowing books with a list of names inside the cover, navigating aisles to find a newly released title, saving images similar to how you imagined fantastical lands, and scrolling for hours and hours. How often did you seek out printed language?

“What was your home like?” Memories and the touch of nostalgia fizzled away. Crap. Your eyes refocused and you took a glance at Eragon. His focus on you made the panic start. Having the Dragon Rider’s focus was much more intense than his fleeting attention. Yet you were prepared. Somewhat. Time to yourself allowed you to imagine many possible encounters, especially with Eragon Shadeslayer. “Before the Queen assigned me to this role?” You asked, trying to give yourself more time to think and consider your next words carefully. “Yes,” he nodded. “Where you spent your childhood.” Indoors and outdoors, you mentally sassed. “Busy people,” you shrugged, “working adults, homework.” Your lip curled back at the thought of the last word. “Living from one day to the next and hope it’s better or easier.” “Were there any…magicians where you lived?” You nearly snorted. “No.” Nodding slowly, Eragon related to you a detail about his home. “There wasn’t a magician in Carvahall either. My home.” He clarified and shifted in his seat. “Not as the bigger cities.” You nodded even while very well knowing of his past. Knowing what information the young man withheld of an old bearded man he once knew. Brown eyes looked to you again. “Was there no on who could use magic where you’re from? You had spoke of this place being different for you. Is this the first time you’ve seen magic? Can you tell me of any of it?” “Depends on how you classify magic.” Bewilderment covered his fair face. “Classify?” Shifting in the chair, you faced him fully. “Back home there are magic tricks, which is usually a slight of hand. Then there’s the feeling that something could be described as magical, but most likely is nowhere near what say a dragon or Dragon Rider could do.” Eragon nodded along, “Just a word.” “Exactly, like wondrous. And there’s events or actions that maybe no one has an explanation for,” you shrugged again. He sat back. “You handle being an ambassador here as if you had years of training. As if everyone and all of Arngor was knowledge given to you.” “Knowledge, the truth, of this place isn’t common knowledge for anyone in Alagaësia. I think it’s better that way.” You swallowed uneasily.

You knew well what the Dragon Rider could be thinking. He had complimented you not long ago on your role while he mistook your questions as doubt in your abilities. His current words still reflected a sort of admiration of your adjustability to new situations. However, you knew in your gut his subconscious was wary of something. But he wouldn’t genuinely be so friendly if he suspected me of any deceit. Your fingers intertwined tightly on your lap. “I feel like you want to ask me something,” you whispered. “I have a great deal of questions.” “I know.” You kept your voice low. “But I can’t answer everything.” “Even if you wanted to tell me?” The Rider’s voice lowered as your own, keeping the conversation as private as possible without the use of a spell. Gaze flicking to your own lap, you heard Eragon hum an affirmative. At least he won’t push. “She only gave me an overview of what I should expect here. I don’t know what specific details she has of this place,” you added even softer. “I still don’t see why two ambassadors are necessary.” Eragon’s gaze hardened in thought. “But I’m grateful to be here. Everyone has been nothing but kind and welcoming.” “Your words are appreciated.” Said Eragon as he came back to himself. “As is your kindness.” Any response was caught in your throat as you peered into his brown eyes. Swallowing proved mildly difficult.

A whole person with a past, personality, and dreams for the future were behind that gaze. Not just words in a story. Eragon was real. The whole of Elëa with Alagaësia was very real. You were sitting in it with less than an arm’s length away from a Dragon Rider. One you held dear to your heart. But you feared him learning the extent of what you knew. What you felt. Yet keeping a distance from Eragon was not what he appeared to have in mind. Jokes and questions increasing by the day. A warmth filled your chest and you tore your gaze from him.

“It’s late,” you murmured and stood from the chair. “Good night.” “Good night.” Eragon responded quietly, watching you go. The sound of his voice repeated in your mind as you made your way up to your room. So many darn steps. So many darn cute smiles given to you. You clutched at your chest. What am I doing?

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful. Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~ DreamerDragon Tags: Inheritance Cycle Tags: @shewhobreathesfire @

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.

[modern-inheritance]

Got some good feedback on the bits of Nasuada’s dialogue that I did yesterday! She’s gonna take more work than I thought. Gonna have to find her balance.

Currently skimming some more of her interactions with various characters. I never thought I’d have trouble with writing a character being firm without harshness or dark humor to round it out, but here we are.

I’m gonna aim for Sunday being this chapter’s release. But I need to get Nasuada and Jormundur figured out properly before I even think about edits.

Part afterwards isn’t quite as bad, I just have to figure out the pacing I want. There’s things I want to happen, but I need to land on proper timing and stuff.

Anyway. Cheers mates!

[weirdponytail]

I don't know if my MIC versions of the Inheritance characters count but I gave it a whirl! Thanks for the tag!

Best I could do for them! Modern Inheritance!Eragon (there was no blue dragon), Brom, Glenwing (with a friendly birb and a bit more scarring on his shoulder to indicate his prosthetic) and Arya.

Glen and Eragon are the only two that actually get proper sleep, Brom's just old and grouchy and is always the one being woken up when one of his 'kids' have issues during the night, and Arya just sleeps in the field when the chance of Eragon and Saphira getting shot at drops below 5%, so probably like...every three to four days or so.

uuuuh I don't really...know...people. Oh wait maybe I do! @archangelsunited, @shows-up-naked-covered-in-bees, @nytotad, @books-fascinate, y'all are the ones I remember talking to the most.

i tried to make some ocs using this picrew

[thankyouretinazer]

idk why but I just find belgabad very interesting. belgabad’s eldunari being in the vault of souls is one of my cherry picked additions / headcanons to ic. Another one is Bregan (the guy who sees energy as light) becomes a bit more important during the same time the fork the witch and the worm is happening.

[lovequotesandcoffee]

Keep in mind that many people have died for their beliefs; it's actually quite common. The real courage is in living and suffering for what you believe.

Christopher Paolini, Eragon.

[serpenttailedangel]

The (entirely undisclosed) writing system Brin came up with in the World of Elan drives me nuts. Symbols were made with consideration for the schwa sound and their version of S looks like an O. (Or at least, whatever the first sound in their word for 'sun' is, that letter looks like an O.) The schwa accommodation alone means it's not the Latin alphabet. The S/O thing is probably further proof it's not the Latin alphabet, but could also indicate they're not speaking English. Which is kind of a moot point because everything pre-Riyria is implicitly localized into English if for no other reason than that most of the Fhrey language is blatantly localized and in Legends and also the old writing in Riyria does not match modern speech which is, itself, portrayed in English.

Anyway, it's not the Latin alphabet nor does it seem to be a cipher of the Latin alphabet because, again, it's got schwas. Assuming I read the bit about Brin and Roan discussing schwas correctly, anyway.

So they're not speaking English probably and they're also definitely not writing with the Latin alphabet or a 1:1 cypher... yet in Death of Dulgath, Payne makes a point of explicitly stating that his name is spelled with a Y and an E rather than an I, and Royce later makes a quip about his name being Pain after all.

(Not even gonna get into all the other times etymology is made up for words in the story, or the apparent vowel shift that managed to happen during the only few centuries of the empire where reading was wide-spread.)

I understand this is all still something that can be handwaved by saying "it's just localized into English" but my brain is still churning over this. Like...

Royce's whole entire name comes from a misread of Roy, a couple city segments reduced to initials, and someone slurring the words "male" and "born" together. And I'm gonna just ignore that the E in Royce is silent and the implications that has on the in-story alphabet. I'm not ignoring it. "Royce" only has three phonemes in it and even if you assume that the actual city section symbols were swapped out for Latin alphabet letters, how much space does that leave for the name Turin claimed while dropping him off at the orphanage? Did Brin invent a whole entire alphabet with useless extra letters despite her writing system actually being tailored for the language it was made in? Did the local language morph to the point of dropping certain sounds but keeping the old spelling, thus generating silent letters? Why? The vowel shift that I said I wasn't gonna get into seems, at least from how I read it, to mean that words are outright spelled differently between Fariland and Esrahaddon's time, which seems to imply that they adjust spellings to stick to pronunciation more readily than English does. But his last name is just comes from slurring the words "male" and "born" together. Given that there's no necessary reason for those words to be the same, what's his real name.

I understand that any second-world fantasy I read that uses names that sound like English words technically has this problem, but most of them don't also reference inventing an a writing system that explicitly isn't English and then making me think about it.

Realistically, I don't want Tolkien levels of worldbuilding. I like conlangs and fantasy writing systems, but when they're on the level of needing to read an appendix to learn that the fantasy language actually has a formal and informal you but only in certain cultures and some of the characters didn't use it and there were nuances to the social interactions I read that went overlooked due to all utterances of "you" being translated with the same word in English, you are expecting too much of me as a reader. But like... there is a little part of me that wants to know what their real names are when you tie their names to a bunch of words that I'm assuming were localized.

Also I'd like a Fhrey dictionary. I just... I need to know the pattern for the words. I want this.

[modern-inheritance]

Lol I forgot about this one.

Modern Inheritance Chats: Mummy Dearest

Islanzadi: So...are we going to talk about what happened last night?

Arya: And what exactly would that be?

Islanzadi: *ignoring previous night's apparent flashbacks and PTSD episodes, sly smile* You called me 'Mum.'

Arya: *deadpan*...No. Pretty sure I didn't. I haven't called you anything but Islanzadi, my Queen, and Mother for decades. And that's ignoring more...colorful language.

Islanzadi: You did! You said 'Thanks, Mum, real helpful.'

Arya: Oh. I wasn't referencing you. That was from a memory.

Islanzadi: And who else, exactly, would you call 'Mum'?

Arya: *Jerks thumb over shoulder to where Brom is passed out on one of Tialdarí Hall's couches*

Islanzadi: ...

Islanzadi: Why, on this green earth, would you call BROM 'Mum'?!

Arya: To be brutally honest, Mother, I've used that term as an insult these past seventy years.