#strangled by the thread of fate; swift-with-arrows

[savior-of-humanity]

I haven't felt like responding to stuff in my inbox but I offer unto thee; baby swag

[savior-of-humanity]

xilienmultiverse​:

A Different Type of Fantasy

@savior-of-humanity wanted to do a thread between Swift-With-Arrows and Zhagaak! This was supposed to be a glorious battle. A last hurrah for the Beastman. Something that he could go out in a blaze of glory in. But, no. He was denied such an honor because one Bray-Shaman screwed it something fierce- The Chaos Portal went unstable. He and his small group of comrades quickly found themselves in a strange land, one they could tell lacked any sort of Chaos. It was practically hell for them. No matter where they turned, humanity and it’s civility reared it’s ugly head. It felt like they were sent here to suffer for some kind of sin they committed in life, and it quickly got to his men’s heads. After a few weeks, Zhagaak was the last one left. Thankfully, he was well fed for that interim, but even that supply ran out with his last man going down. He needed to get food, and soon, lest he starve- Unfortunately, just charging into a town to go on a rampage, while the most appealing option… Would end in certain death. So, he set off from the forest he and his men had hid in while they waited for, possibly, a portal to open up and let them back into the loving arms of Chaos. Scrap-Metal Greatsword lugged over his shoulder, it didn’t take long for him to run into someone. Though he has only ever seen skinks once before, it didn’t take him long to realize it was a strange looking one, at that. Purplish scales decorated it’s skin, and though he had seen female variants of humans, dwarves, elves, and even beastmen, it’s hard to say he’s seen a female Skink. Though, that didn’t really matter. He was starving- A rarity for Beastmen, as they usually kept themselves well fed. It was as the saying went, ‘A Hungry Beastman is a dead Beastman.’ Dragging himself onto the path she walked, sword dragging behind him, he put himself in front of the Argonian. Drool leaked down his jowls, as he bore his teeth. “Ghhhhh… It hurts…” He was unfortunately stricken with a hunger pain that might as well feel like someone impaled him in the gut. Grasping at his stomach, he felt himself start to crumple in on himself.  “Hun… Gry… Never felt… This way… Before… How does it hurt so… Bad…?” The Bovigor growled and whimpered under his breath. He seems to have forgotten his goal of hunting the Lizard woman in front of him, as he just stands nigh stock-still, hand to his gut. 

@xmber-bull​

--

Swift-With-Arrows had been dragging along an deer she’d claimed for tonight’s dinner when she came across a rather... unusual sight.

She’d heard of minotaurs before; large animal-like people with the general anatomy of a cow or bull. Although she never had the pleasure to meet one; she’d only read about them in books, and her venture into Cyrodiil when she’d been initially traveling to Skyrim had been too brief for her to run into one.

So tickle her surprised when she stumbled across what appeared to be such a being standing right in front of her. The Argonian froze in her tracks; her quarry slung over her shoulders, gaze locked with that of the bull-beast’s own. Although she was quick to note how rather out of it they seemed, likely from hunger.

In all honesty, Swift had no clue how to deal with this situation. Running might not be an option, because there was no telling if sprinting off into the trees would prompt the creature into following her - or if it could catch up to her. She wasn’t exactly keen on just giving it her prey, either. And if a fight broke out, well... judging by the size of the sword it lugged around, chances were that she might not survive a direct hit from the blade.

“Can I..help you?” She’d speak, tense, waiting for the strange being’s next move.

[savior-of-humanity]

Tag update;

pruzah voth runaaz; swift-with-arrows -> bound by fate; swift-with-arrows

I've also removed all google doc links for any muses that might've had them, since those muse pages are still big WIPs and I don't know if (or when) I'm ever going to finish them.

[savior-of-humanity]

Ouougrghhh yeah um. Sorry for being basically dead here lately 😭 I've basically had zero energy for writing on tumblr lately + my energy has basically been reserved for niche discord rp servers (Godzilla/Evangelion crossovers my beloved) and video games. I might also drop most, if not all, of my threads/owed replies in the inbox but idk if or when I'm gonna do that. If yall ever wanna reach out to me for w/e reason, your always welcome to hit up my DMs on here or discord!!! You can find me @ sharklordsatan on discord

Anyways. I'm gonna drop some Hot New Lore™ under the read-more for my argonian character (Swift-With-Arrows) since I decided I didn't really like how ""plain"" her backstory was

SURPRISE BITCH YOU ALSO GET SOME ART OF HER TOO!!!! Okay anyways. For context, originally Swift's backstory was pretty generic - she grew up in Black Marsh, before setting out to explore the world (definitely visiting at least Cyrodiil + Morrowind) at around 19 - 20 before she'd end up in Skyrim.

Now, the current iteration of her backstory goes something like this;

Somewhere on Solstheim, there's a remnant of the old Dragon Cult. They once were part of the cult for Miraak, but became disillusioned with him (given that he was, y'know, stuck in Apocrypha) and fucked off to return to their dragon-worshipping ways.

However, they would latch on to the idea of a Dragonborn being subservient to the will of their dragon overlords, much like how Miraak himself had once been. So obviously they set off to go actually find a Dragonborn - which. Isn't an easy thing to pull off, given their rarity. I don't know how long it would take them (let alone how they do it - maybe something involving Daedra?) but eventually, finally, they find what they're looking for. A child, born of dragon blood, deep within the swamps of Black Marsh.

I also don't have many solid ideas on how she ends up in the custody of the cult in the first place, but either way, she's ultimately taken back to Solstheim and raised by the cult directly.

Her being taken from her homeland is a tragedy in of itself - it means that she's ultimately denied her birth-right to be raised by her people. To learn their culture, to live with her family, and ultimately to develop her connection with the Hist. Her being separated from Black Marsh at such a young age means that she is estranged from the Hist, further alienating her from her fellow Argonians.

It doesn't help that the cult actively indoctrinates her on her future role as Dragonborn; to them, she is to act as the ultimate servant to their dragon gods. The embodiment of their will, the perfect tool, the perfect slave - belonging to no-one but Alduin himself. It's not a great environment to grow up in, as you can imagine - especially as they at some point forcibly tattoo their given name for her, Dovriizaak, along her spine in Dovahzul.

Eventually, though, she escapes their clutches - fleeing into Morrowind, where she proceeds to head west so that she can get as far from Solstheim as possible. For a good while, she goes without any name whatsoever; the thought of being called her cult-given name (or her fated name as the priests called it), let alone the memory of the cult at all, was enough to make her sick to her stomach. Eventually, though, she would decide to give herself a name; Swift-With-Arrows. (Fun fact; this is the name the Hist would've given her had she still grown up in Black Marsh. So you could probably say that despite the circumstances of her childhood, she still has a connection.)

Finally, she crosses the border into Skyrim - only to be caught up in the middle of an Imperial ambush, leading into the events of the storyline. She never figured that she actually was Dragonborn despite the cult treating her as such, so to not only have Alduin himself come down from the sky and try to kill her at Helgen, and then later face Mirmulnir at the Whiterun tower and absorb his soul...

Yeah. She doesn't take it well.

[savior-of-humanity]

currently rotating a VERY specific AU for swift in my brain rn. like a microwave. (can't post abt it yet until i make myself respond to a specific ask :3c)

[savior-of-humanity]

empathetic-not-pitiful‌:

empathetic-not-pitiful‌:

Classic Beach City - Weird to the core… 🏖️🌟

Steven’s still concentrating on the car, right up until a loud sound cracks through the still night air. He jolts in shock, suddenly turning in his seat, to look at the beach behind him.

There’s… someone on the beach, just… standing, as if they’d been plopped in the middle of the sand by some external force… What on Earth?! They seem to have some amount of equipment too… Steven slowly gets out of the car, ready to bring his shield out at a moment’s notice, just in case.

He begins to walk towards them, feeling a bit apprehensive, it shocks him a little. Since when did Steven Universe, who has literally befriended practically everyone he’s ever met… even if they were trying to kill him, feel apprehensive in these situations? They call out with a “hello”, and Steven hesitantly responds with one of his own.

“Hello…?”

Swift was contemplating on whether she should explore the area or simply stay put - this was a completely unfamiliar area, and quite possibly region - when she heard a voice somewhere behind her.

She’d catch sight of a male, seemingly human in appearance, wearing garb that was very strange and brightly-colored. Though, really, she’d look just as strange and alien to the stranger as he did to her.

While she was around the average height of a adult human female, there was little about her that she shared with humans. Her skin consisted of scales the shade of violet; her legs were digitigrade, ending in feet very similar to that of prehistoric raptors. Her head was also rather similar to that of a dromaeosaur’s; small, nubby ‘horns’ running along the side of her temples like a pseudo-crown, her scalp adorned with a crest of golden feathers. And to top it all off, she even had a tail - very reptilian, perhaps crocodilian in the way it was ‘built.’ Anything else was obscured by the armor she wore - it was ‘primitive’, reminiscent of something you’d find perhaps in medieval times, consisting mainly of metal plates and chain-mail mixed with what looked to be plates of bone. Aside from the backpack and pouches adorned on her and the bow holstered over her torso - which was also built of a mix of metal and carved bone - it was clear that she was dressed for combat.

She seemed just as apprehensive as Steven was - and warily, she’d give a reply. She didn’t know where she was, after all, and the same could be said for how friendly the locals would be to her.

“Would... Would you happen to know where I am?”

Classic Beach City - Weird to the core... 🏖️🌟

[savior-of-humanity]

✔

My muse(s): ermmm a whole fucking lot, but for this specific ask I'll be going w/ Swift

Do I know your muse(s):  yes | no | a little | tell me about your muse

Setting: our verse | my verse | your verse | modern | alternate universe | other

Pre-established relationships? yes | no | depends on the relationship

Possible relationships: friends | classmate | co-worker | roommate | family, real or adopted | dating or blind date | married | friends with benefits | unrequited love | lending a hand | teacher - student | rivals | allies | partner-in-crime | enemies | protecter - guarded | business partners | spy - infiltrated | manipulator - manipulated | star-crossed | first meeting | other 

I’m in the mood for: fluff | angst | horror | romance | humor | crime | hurt / comfort | action | supernatural | slice of life | crack | dark threads | light threads | any genre | multi-para | shorter para | one-line | any length | plotted threads | unplotted threads | other

Feel free to: message me ooc | message me ic | tell me your ideas | write a starter | answer one of my opens | send a meme | reblog this with your preferences - let’s find common interests!

[savior-of-humanity]

❌

If you had ever told Swift-With-Arrows that she was destined for greatness, she would have simply laughed in your face.

She was not a believer of fate, or destiny, or anything of the sort; these sorts of things, in her opinion, simply happened by chance. In her opinion, her upbringing in a dragon-worshipping cult from the day she hatched wasn't part of some grand plan divined by the gods, but just an unfortunate stroke of luck for her in her life. When she was caught up in an Imperial ambush and mixed among Stormcloak captives as a prisoner, she just figured she got dealt a shit hand in life.

When the black dragon descended down from the mountains and began to lay siege to Helgen right as her head was primed to be cleaved from her shoulders, doubt of it being mere chance had started to cloud her mind - but admist the chaos of the destruction and fire and death, it was promptly banished from her mind. Much like the memory of how it had stared down at her on the chopping block; its expression unreadable, yet somehow knowing.

When she killed the dragon at the Whiterun watchtower, felt its essence enter her very being, her mind being flooded with memories, knowledge, power, instincts - against her will, she learned that his name was Mirmulnir - she knew she could no longer deny what she was.

And it terrified her.

For so long she had lived under the shadow of her so-called caregivers. Those who assured her that she was destined for greatness, she who was born with the soul of a dragon, she who was born to serve as the greatest slave-champion of their dragon gods. For so long, she had assured herself that they were falsehoods; the thought of them being right, much less her being tied to any destiny at all, made her sick to her stomach.

She, the Dragonborn, a child of Akatosh, destined to save the world from the devouring maw of the destroyer devour master. She, the Dovahkiin, born to be the zahkriiaarkaal of Alduin himself.

She wanted absolutely nothing to do with this fate.

And yet even then, she found her feet climbing the Seven Thousand Steps, she found her lips asking questions about what she was from the Greybeards, she found her blades and her arrows drawing the life and soul from many more dragons. With each one's demise, their spirits became one with hers; their memories, their thoughts, their knowledge. She felt the rush of adrenaline in their veins, the pain of steel sinking into scales and flesh, the fear as she delivered the killing blows. But strongest of them all, she felt their desires. Survival. Victory. Destruction.

Like before, she ignored it for as long as she could throughout her journey. It was certainly not a healthy thing, yes, but she couldn't bear the effort of trying to actually examine her thoughts and feelings.

But one day, the urges simply became too much. The desire to spread wings she did not have. To burn all that dared face her to ash. To destroy. To DOMINATE.

For so long, she had tried to abandon and starve the dovah within her. But now, the inner spirit would break free of the shackles she had bound it in for so long.

Her flesh burned, scales peeling away and dissipating on the wind like embers. But she did not smoulder down into bones and ash like those she devoured; nay, where lavender and violet was stripped away, it was left with flickering flame. Flame that grew, changed, until it gave way to armored scales, a billowing mane, wings that blocked out the sun and talons that cleaved the earth.

She becomes something terrible.

She becomes something glorious.

She becomes something

B E A U T I F U L .

(art under the cut!)

[savior-of-humanity]

Like this post if you would be interested in interacting with Swift-With-Arrows.

[savior-of-humanity]

wingsofintxlligence​:

“Not exactly from around here!” She said over the sounds of the roars. She didn’t know what she had done to piss the creature off so badly, was it just territorial or hungry? Either way she wasn’t about to stick around to find out. She blinked as she was suddenly tackled by the other person, grunting as she hit the ground.

“What’s that thing?” She yelped as she was suddenly dragged into the Shadows, she paused with her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. Once she had caught her breath she looked over at her rescuer. “Thanks by the way.”

“Shhh.” The armored stranger would hush the other; from their place within the dense foliage, they were about to witness a spectacle few saw.

The Nargacuga roared at the crimson-scaled wyvern, which gave it’s own terrible snarl back towards the felinid creature. Suddenly sparks of flame seeped from the corners of it’s maw, and it reared back it’s head before blasting out a searing ball of fire towards the other creature.

It moved swiftly, lunging at the other - causing the red-winged beast to take flight. A clash ensued - two monsters lashing out at each other, with talons and teeth, flame and sharpened wings. They’d eventually crash into the underbrush, moving away from the two’s hiding spot until eventually there was only the sound of the surrounding jungle once more.

Only then did the armored being come out of hiding. “That... was a Rathalos. Impressive creature. But we should get moving before either of them or something else shows up.”

[savior-of-humanity]

Updating a tag!!

bound by fate; swift-with-arrows -> strangled by the threads of fate; swift-with-arrows

[savior-of-humanity]

ꜱᴇɴꜱᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪꜰɪᴄ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ: Swift-With-Arrows

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE SMELL LIKE?  Given that Swift-With-Arrows is an Argonian and thus a reptile, she’s physically incapable of sweating - so you’re not going to be picking up any signs of that. As Swift spends a lot of her time out in the wilds, she’ll smell exactly like that - of forests, of rivers, and more often than not whatever animal she’s managed to hunt and prepare (for better or worse).

WHAT DO YOUR MUSE’S HANDS FEEL LIKE? Swift’s hands are similar in texture and feel to that of a typical human being - though naturally there’s also the texture of very small and fine scales. It’s not really that much different from touching snake skin, except if the scales were much smaller, rounded, and softer. She doesn’t exactly develop callouses but there are some scales that are firmer than others, which could be considered a reptilian equivalent.

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY EAT IN A DAY? Swift is a very resourceful girl - more often than not the majority of food she’s going to be eating is prepared by herself. Meats of various game animals and fishes, cheeses, wild herbs and plants, though it’s mixed in with whatever else she can afford when she stops by a town or city. Ultimately, she’s not super picky. In her homeland of Black Marsh, the cuisine of Argonians is very... exotic, to say the least. Among the less extreme dishes, she often enjoyed foods such as beetle puffs, fungus omelets, dragonfruit, roasted bog-eels, and swamp shrimp boils.

DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE A GOOD SINGING VOICE? Sort of. It’s not great, but it’s not terrible either - she certainly doesn’t have any plans on becoming a bard any time soon.

DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE ANY BAD HABITS OR NERVOUS TICKS? Not exactly. She knows how to keep her body calm when she’s under stress - her head-feathers, however, tend to rise and puff themselves out (or flatten themselves against her scalp) depending on her mood.

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY LOOK LIKE / WEAR? Usually, Swift will wear a hand-made armor that’s designed to both protect her body in the worst of combat and keep herself light and agile enough for both fighting and hunting. It’s made from a combination of dragonbone, treated leather and furs, and steel.

IS YOUR MUSE AFFECTIONATE? HOW SO?  She’s not a suuuper affectionate person, usually - but if you get close enough to her, she’ll open up to you in both body and spirit. Swift generally doesn’t like to get all touchy-feely with people unless she trusts them enough, whether they’re friend or something a little closer.

WHAT POSITION DOES YOUR MUSE SLEEP IN? Whatever’s the most comfortable. Considering that she often explores the world and ends up sleeping out in the wilds, there’s times where she’s had to make rather uncomfortable beds up in the branches of trees.

COULD YOU HEAR YOUR MUSE IN THE HALLWAY FROM ANOTHER ROOM? Under normal circumstances? Yes - but she tends to be a rather light walker. Naturally of course given her skill she knows how to tread lightly to make her steps all but totally silent. In other words, if she really wanted to, she can and will sneak up on you when you least expect it - pray that you aren’t some unlucky bandit about to have his throat slit open with a finely sharpened dagger... Tagged By: @irrfahrer​ Tagging: Whoever wants to do this!

[savior-of-humanity]

What are some of your favorite head canons for any muse(s)?

- Pretty much all of my muses have some form of trauma or even PTSD caused by their past experiences.

- Swift-With-Arrows often struggles with her identity, and the idea of fate & prophecy, due to her not only being born as Dragonborn, but also because it's very likely that she was only even born due to her destiny to defeat Alduin. In other words, if Alduin had never been such a threat, there's a very real possibility that Swift could have just...not existed at all.

- The only thing that Alduin truly fears is Swift-With-Arrows.

- Davoth's true name is Da'vanoth. VEGA/The Father's true name is Lan’ervi-el (which is frequently shortened to just Lanrviel).

- Spyro, much like Swift, also struggles with the concept of being a Hero of Destiny(tm). While he's definitely not opposed to the idea of working to help people and ultimately save the world from the Dark Master and his legions, he's still a child! He's still ultimately traumatized by what he goes through!! Especially when it comes to having to face down foes like Cynder (who, at the time of her being corrupted, was basically a very infamous beast that struck fear into the hearts of all that witnessed her!)

- John, to this day, feels like it's his fault that some people (Sgt. Johnson, Cortana, Sam, etc etc) died. That he didn't do enough to keep them alive or protect them. (Obviously this isn't true because he did do all he could, but there's only so much that even a Spartan, much less the Master Chief of all people, could do in their corresponding scenarios.)

[savior-of-humanity]

thestupidmeanone‌:

“Divines, I hope not.” Atronaches were annoyingly resistant to his magic half the time, and he didn’t feel like getting in a Flame Atronach’s face with a mace.

Church took a little time to look around the new chamber. As usual, dark and foreboding, but his scholarly side–the side that brings him to these kind of places in the first place–couldn’t help but admire the craftsmanship. These ancient Nords knew their architecture.

“I don’t doubt it,” he muttered. “The Dragon Cult was pretty widespread and more popular than historical records would care to admit.” Okay, maybe ‘popular��� wasn’t the right word. He highly doubted anyone had much of a choice when it came to nigh-immortal, semi-divine beings like dragons.

“Why do you keep suggesting worse and worse things? One of these days–” Church stopped his complaint mid-sentence as his foot bumped against something hard, making it clatter across the dusty stone floor a few feet. The noise damn near almost made him jump, and he turned wildly to try and spot what he accidentally kicked.

The chamber had opened up more here, widening and giving way to a high, vaulted ceiling. It almost seemed like an arena or amphitheatre–something not very common in Nordic ruins. Church had no time to admire the place, though, considering his distraction. He saw what he had bumped into: a medium-sized bone that had skidded along the floor and came to rest near Swift. It didn’t look like any bone from a Man, Mer, or beastfolk, though. It was too… big.

“For the love of–hey, can you take a look at that? What is…” He trailed off upon realizing that it was far from the only bone in this place. The floor further ahead had quite a few more, almost coating the whole floor. What in Oblivion was all this?

Swift had quickly taken notice of the odd bones littering the chamber, pausing to kneel down to examine one. She’d gently pick up what appeared to be a tooth of some sort, her brow furrowing in concentration as she tried to identify what it could’ve once belonged to. Troll, maybe? No, it wasn’t long and curved enough.

She’d peer out at the other large bones strewn about - which clearly had been here for quite some time - and it’d finally click in her head just what these bones used to be.

“Church.. I- Dude. These are dragon bones.” Her eyes went wide with a sort of wonder in them - she had seen plenty of dragon skeletons before, yes, but rarely did she ever come across any that had been seemingly undisturbed for so long.

“Do you think a dragon died in here? Oh, oh, maybe they brought the body in here once it died for some kind of ritual or ceremony? Like... some... weird dragon-cultist dragon funeral?”

[savior-of-humanity]

[expvrgction] "It’s time for you to wake up." (Kahann waking up an unconscious Swift-With-Arrows?)

@expvrgction

--

Wake up.

Wake up.

Wake up!

She’d bolt upright from where she had been lying with a gasp, startling herself awake. Swift breathed heavily, eyes wide and heart racing a thousand miles a minute; why did she feel so startled, so riddled with adrenaline and afraid, when she had merely awoken from what had just felt like a bad dream? She hadn’t had such nightmares since the rise of Alduin, watching him descend upon Helgen to destroy the town and inadvertently saving her from execution.

...It had been just a nightmare, right?

She’d glance to her side and- oh. There was... someone standing there. For a brief moment she blinked; once, twice, before finally speaking. “Who.. are you?”

[savior-of-humanity]

🎁 + Swift-With-Arrows