#noruk

[wishfuldreamzzz]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: NEW NORUK Girls Two-piece Rashguard Swimsuit in Navy/Pink Size 4 NWT Swimwear.

[cooltrainererika]

Alt-talia: It’s Starting to Feel Like Christmas

Hello, hello everyone! Joy to the world!

For some reason I thought this event began today, not yesterday, until pretty recently… but fortunately, while it’s a day late, I got to write this! I did plan on others, but I’m releasing this now so I can get it out just in case, especially since the two others could also fit on another day. This is mainly for 12/16: Presents, but it can also fit under Decorations and Traditions, so three in a row! Woot!

This time, I want to write more about characters I may have missed during Hetaween, since my character pool ended up narrower than intended. ...And saying that, I’m writing about two characters I’ve written twice in that event! Yay!

I debated whether to write about this topic in general or about it specific this year, but chose the latter. I hope I’ll get to release a more in-depth fic about it in general some other time. So yeah, I’m using some really fresh material again this time.

Oh yeah, BTW, most of my fics take place in my “Alt-talia” semi-AU where I aim to capture history and culture more faithfully and most importantly overhaul the many characters who make no sense drastically. This will especially be noticeable for England. So yeah, you have been warned. Though maybe he’s a bit OOC here compared to how I usually write him? Also, it should be noted that I use country names when talking about the characters as countries, and with human names when referring to them as individuals; while in Alt-talia the difference can be more hazy than canon, I mean more talking purely about their personal interactions and the like. 

Also, this is not intended to be shipping! 

This was supposed to be like a few lines with no real arc, but whelp. At least I still kept it short. Also there’s a deleted scene I didn’t know how to end as a bonus at the end. 

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(Oh, and those who read my fics; please comment or reblog? I work hard on these, and they would be highly appreciated.)

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It’s Christmastime Again, Lukas Haraldsen

Every year since 1947, Norway had a tradition of sending special Jul presents to a certain nation very dear to him. 

His Norwegian Spruce trees were prized by all; he regularly got bidders from all over Europe, and had witnessed many a fight over them get ugly. But the best of the best were only reserved for a certain United Kingdom; and the best among these, the Queen of the Forest, nurtured by the songs, voices, and arms of some of the world’s best, most loving foresters, for England. Specifically his capital, London.

After all, nothing could make up for the debt he had for him. In the dark days of Nazi occupation, London for him was hope; it was where England protected his royal family as they awaited the Nazis’ demise, from where the radio blared and urged him to fight on, where the skies have become a proving ground to show that the Nazis could be vanquished. 

He knew this year had been a mess for his friend, and his recent election, the second one that year, had done nothing to mitigate it; and while even Norway knew only he himself and his uncharacteristically impulsive decision really was to blame for his current situation, hopefully, this would improve his mood for the uncertain road ahead. 

Norway was a quiet, unassuming man, but he took his presents seriously. And he also took Jul seriously. 

And this year was no different. While he sent many trees every year to different cities in the kingdom, including to some of Scotland’s, the most important was of course the one sent to the City of Hope itself. 

And now, in the heart of Trafalgar Square, wearing a traditional sweater which may as well have been a T-shirt compared to the attire of the Londoners passing by as they started their day, whistling En stjerne skinner i natt and Vårres Jul to himself. 

“Mmm… Ah, Arthur!”

He waved and smiled gently as the man in question, dressed very much warmly in a thick duffel coat and wool knit scarf, came into view. 

“Ahem. I’m here too.”

Today beside him was one Peter Bates, or Sealand as he preferred to be called, adorably bundled up in a woolen coat, mittens, knit hat, and light blue scarf, now crossing his arms. 

“Right, right. Sorry.”

“Ello, Norway. Don’t mind him, he said he wanted to see the tree again and ‘His Highness’ Prince Bates told me to take him with me. Bloody cold here today, isn’t it?”

He was shivering a bit, his nose a noticeable red and his breath a white mist. 

“Nothing I’m not used to. I’ve been waiting for you here. I chose one which is much older and taller than usual. See for yourself.”

Norway moved aside so that his gift would be in full view of his friend. It was a product of the forests on the banks of Trollvann lake, raised with love as any tree worthy of Trafalgar Square would be, almost twice as tall and two or three decades older than the first tree to have had the honor to have the honor of being offered on this annual occasion. 

England stared at the tree. 

Silence. 

“Wow, it’s huge!”

Peter was the first one to speak, his eyes sparkling. 

“England? ...England?”

Norway asked, watching his blank expression. 

“Well… I know that I am causing quite a bit of annoyance, but if I remember correctly, you weren’t in the EU, right?”

Norway was now perplexed. 

England looked to him with a with an expression that could only be said to be both a gentle smile and disappointment at the same time. 

“It seems like it needs a drink, does it not? It looks a bit dry and quite thin.”

Norway thought he felt his heart sunk a little. 

Peter sharply elbowed England in the side, making him gag. 

“Sealand, please don’t.”

“It’s a present, you jerk! ...Don’t listen to Scrooge over here, she’s beautiful.”

“Well you do live on a metal platform in the ocean…”

He jabbed him again.

Norway’s face went a bit red. 

“She’s much older and taller than the usual ones. It won’t look just like a smaller one you would have in your living room.”

“Sorry. I’m just saying it looks a bit sparse, is all.”

Norway lifted up one of many boxes of lights. 

“Mmm… Well, will you be too busy to help?”

“Yes, am afraid. More negotiations and all. So I am presuming it will be lit in the cucumber style as per usua- ach!”

Peter this time kicked him in the knee, making the older nation’s legs buckle a bit. 

“I’ll help, Mister.”

The boy said. 

“No, no, you don’t have to.”

————

Norway had to admit; maybe he had gone too much for size this time around. But Peter insisted that it not looking completely picture perfect was what made it look real instead of “Plastic tat”. 

And, as usual, put up the lights his own way, pure white streaks from top to bottom, “cucumber style” as England called it. 

And despite his complaints, on the night of lighting two days later, as the streams of light lit up in the heart of London in the crisp air and Norway listened to Peter cheer loudly with the crowd, the mayor of Oslo give her speech, and children caroling, amongst a sea of Londoners peppered with tourists, England stood beside him. 

“Well, it indeed finally feels like Christmas now.”

Norway looked to his friend, whose eyes were on the star, towering almost 25 meters above. 

“Well… maybe it is not quite up to your usual quality. But stability has been hard to come by nowadays; this tree being here every year, that I can rely on.”

Norway merely gave a quiet “Mmmm.” in response. 

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So that’s that. If anyone desires an explanation, I’ll provide it in a reblog or something, but I’d rather my stories inspire further research.

Also, “Lukas Haraldsen” is the name I’m using for Norway now, since a lot of Norwegians don’t seem to like “Bondivik”. “Haraldsen” because the founding king of the country is said to be King Harald Fairhair, and as Alt-talia nations can choose their surnames I thought it would be fitting if the surname Norway chose was “Son of Harald”. This name isn’t final though. Especially “Lukas”; does baptism change names again? Also Sealand has been renamed to “Peter Bates” instead of Kirkland; I don’t know why Hima chose that surname, since Sealand’s whole shtick is that he wants to be seen as an independent country. Why would he have the same surname? “Bates” is the surname of his owners, BTW, if that wasn’t clear. 

Again, this wasn’t really supposed to be a complete story with a neat conclusion, and not as heartwarming as intended. Kind of a similar case to Keep Calm actually, which also just happened to involve England. It was an opportunity to show England being a d*ck because, believe me, Alt-England can be an absolute d*ck when he wants to be. But despite the fact that he’s one of the characters whose d*ckery I actually kind of enjoy writing in a Love to Hate way, I haven’t had the chance to do that so far in these events... and I guess I got halfway there? I guess just ending it on England passive-aggressively insulting the tree was just a bit too meanspirited for me. 

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Deleted scene

<F%CKYE4H: Wow, it’s like ‘A Charlie Brown Christmas’ in real life! What, are you gonna break out the aluminum trees now?>

<StillInInferno: Mate, at least you have a real tree, because down here it’s not only hot as hell but if I had any Christmas trees to begin with, they’ve already fucking burned to shit.>

<MooseOfMaple: Dad… With the hassle you’ve been causing everyone you might not have the right to complain about someone showing kindness and holiday spirit to you.>

Arthur huffed as his children ribbed him in the family chat that night. 

<RuleBritannia: Don’t preach to your father, we went over this.>

<F%CKYE4H: Still, giving, not receiving, y’know.>

<MooseOfMaple: Dad, please… As someone who knows spruce trees very well, I do question Norway’s decision, but still. The world doesn’t revolve around you anymore.>

<RuleBritannia: I do not think that. Please stop accusing me of it.>

<BlacKoru: Yeah. It revolves around America. Make of that what you will.>

<F%CKYE4H: Kiwi! I can see that!>

#hetaliaxmasevent #hws enlgand #aph england #hws norway #aph norway #hws sealand #aph sealand #Christmas #platlonic uknor #uknor #noruk #alt-talia

[neo-and-ziv]

I don’t have any context

#swtor #sith #sith inquisitor #cathar #noruk

[asvithshadowws]

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[xsvnflower]

MADDY NORUK

Datos básicos:

Nombre: Madelaine “Maddy” Noruk

Edad: 28

Nacionalidad: Estadounidense

Sexualidad: Heterosexual

Ocupación: Actriz

FC: Rachel Mcadams

Sobre ella

Maddy tiene un hermano mayor al que adora

Es actriz y está empezando a crecer en el mundo de Hollywood.

Su pasión secreta es la cocina.

Personalidad

{+} Dulce, cariñosa, sincera

{-} Sarcástica, insegura, cabezona.

Otros datos

Es una gran experta en cerveza y en whisky, pero no es algo que la gente sepa. 

Es muy familiar, pasar tiempo en familia es lo que más le gusta en el mundo.

Su mayor miedo es fracasar y decepcionar a su familia. 

Le gusta mucho escribir canciones, pero no las canta.

Odia las películas de miedo.

Links

Pics

About

Likes

Interactions

#maddy noruk #muse #new muse #new muse! #bio #hiii traigo a otra beba por aquí

[thanksatt]

Listening to orcs gossip is like trying to keep track of all the relatives my mom mentions whenever she recounts a family story.

There were these two grunts and one of them goes "Ishga killed Takra, Bagga killed Ishga, so Noruk killed Bagga, which leads to Hork killing Kuga" and the other was confused "Wait. I thought Skoth killed Hork which led to Ar-Benu killing Ar-Saku" and so on

#shadow of war #orcs #uruk-hai #olog-hai

[cardiaccadillac]

Yeah, my thoughts are when uruks get a broken skull, it seems they just bolt some metal over the exposed brain and are fine, or in Ratbag’s case he just needed stitching up. Which they might sincerely try with Talion, but it definitely won’t work so well on him. Celebrimbor is just there yelling how they’re all imbeciles but none of them can hear him, and eventually Talion’s heart gives out and he dies anyway. But when he comes back he is genuinely touched by how much they tried.

“We did our best, boss. Didn’t want you to have to die.”

“I know, Noruk. But if my head ever gets cracked like that again, no drilling into my skull. Just put a blade between my ribs and end it quickly.”

“But what if one of these times you don’t come back?”

He doesn’t know what to say to that.

#replies #editedcopycat #sow #talion

[aevsfires]

“I am Oblivion...”

(I couldn’t decide if I liked the brighter or dimmer version better so you get both)

What’s the story behind this weird thing that gave my dad Eye of Sauron vibes? Welp, I won’t bore y’all with the details.

SIKE!

A new story sprung into existence last night and I’ve never gotten hooked on one of my own ideas so quickly. So here’s some concept art that I’ve spent the last eight hours on in a crazed frenzy. This little creepy diamond thing is simply known as “Oblivion.” It is a terrifying source of sentient power that has the potential to be used for almost any purpose. Because this is fantasy and we can never have enough of these stories: unlimited power conveniently held in a definitely not evil gem. But hey, it glows, so let’s give it the benefit of the doubt.

This is probably the weirdest magical object I’ve ever made (wait, scratch that, the Spagger was weirder for name alone), and the story is even weirder. But it’s fun. And because I need to rant (I promised myself I wouldn’t tell my dad anything. I need to hit him with a plot twist.), I came here.

With every generation, the spirit Kivaar (all the names in this are to be finalized) chooses a new host to wield its power and protect the Oblivion from those who would seek to use it for immoral reasons. Unfortunately, such a thing happened, as the last Host, Noruk, was killed by a secret order who now possess the Oblivion and are using it to control the continent (I still haven’t named this world dang it), masquerading Noruk’s death as an accident.

The story focuses on the next Host, a thirteen year old boy named Riel, beginning when he discovers the truth of how Noruk died and the subsequent reveal of Kivaar’s spirit. His journey takes him around the continent in a quest to reclaim the Oblivion, with the help of a girl named Nin, her clueless ermine Link, and a ragtag group of teens with one stressed adult chaperone who’s regretting giving up his promising career as a florist.

There’s adventure, action, found family, and maybe just a smidge of revenge subplot. I have yet to think of a title, so stay tuned for that.

As you can probably tell I’ve gone completely nuts.

I seriously want to do a webcomic for this, but as my art skills peak at spending six hours on a sketch of a face I think that’ll have to wait. I do really love this story though and so I’ll definitely keep making concept art. It’s only been 24 hours but this idea has been so fun and has really cleared up a lot of stress I’ve had over stuff IRL and other writing (aka fanfics). So I guess you can expect more of this at some point.

Don’t use the art. It’s mine.

#art #artists on tumblr #my art #writing #writeblr #stories #i’ll get back to you on the title #and i might weite snippets of the story to share considering i cant draw people #oh well #lol #i just realized this is giving me avatar vibes #idk why

[good-times-with-theo]

Germany x France Norway x England Scotland x Ireland

GerFra - Yes yes; very accurate as well!

Norway x England - I can see it! I prefer NorUK, but I can still see it!

Scotland x Ireland - Depends really; some people see them as siblings, but I personally don’t - I like this ship!

#countryhumans #ch #countryhuman

[forgiven-naunet]

TERA, Tilza and Antimony, 37.

37. “I regret ever loving you.”

Antimony didn’t know when her perception of Tilza changed.

She remembered late nights rambling on about noruks or manaor some shipping conundrum. She remembered the comfortable silences of mutualwork. She remembered alcohol-fueled outings and private encounters. At thetime, he’d felt like water, the first person she’d known in this Dream wholistened and answered in kind.

It hadn’t been noruks in a long time.

When she saw him in the Seeliewood, draped in translucentsilk, surrounded by wine and flowers, Antimony felt none of the relief shewould have expected. She remembered him comatose and empty and helpless. Furtherback she remembered the cold blue as he watched her spread out her heart andguts to be picked over, picked clean, exposed.

Back then she had told Tilza, “He raped me.” She didn’tremember what he said in return, but she remembered him watching her. Sheremembered moving on from that moment, working with him, fighting with him, buthis water became ice. She wondered if the change had set in there, or earlierand she just hadn’t noticed.

Watching him now, warm light casting him in pinks andpurples and yellows through the flower petals dripping wine, across white woodand soft vines, she didn’t feel relief. She didn’t feel much of anything thatshe recognized, even as she uttered quiet words with no voice, only themovement of lips: “I regret ever loving you.” The words didn’t deserve a voice.Or she didn’t deserve regret. Or he didn’t deserve to hear her regret. Eitherway, she would speak but he would not listen. She needed water, but all he hadto offer now was wine.

#tera #character development #antimony #antimony character development #not sure how i feel about how this one came out #feels a bit disjointed #but oh well

[honeysickles]

The Magus Arcanas.

@magus-imperator

Nightmares...

As if drowning... The darkness swallowing a lifeless body, and choking on it. There was a flash of reddened light, and then laughter set in. Not her own, but another’s.

It twisted her awake in a cold sweat. Adelyn grasped her chest with one hand, and reached for her dagger with the other. Alas, no one was there. The cold winds brushed through the cracks in the wooden cabin. Camping along side the mountains was too much for her. Habere wasn’t this chilly. Her bones rattled with the small fire that spat out enough light to allow her to see around the single room.

She swallowed, hard. It took her a moment to release both articles, and rise to her feet. The nightgown she wore was meant for this weather. Skins of noruk lined the inner side. It kept her skin warm, but she swore she could feel the cold through her horns. The immediate rattle of her teeth was followed by the shake of her head.

Whatever was going on, well, she wanted no part of. This quest was not one for herself. A friend back in Castanica wanted something. A jewel precious to these areas. A stone meant for Blessings. Of course, her dearest Mystic would ask.

Adelyn groaned, tip toeing to the small oven. She needed tea, or at the very least something warm.

Firewood would need to be first, though.

The Elin wanted to deter herself from opening the door. The Magic and Essences within her stirred. Something was going on, somewhere; And it was reaching out.

#magus-imperator #awkward starter but heyy its going somewhere i swear

[asvithshadowws]

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[rereheart-do-art]

Commission by Jurobi. Character: Noruk Vukon. Made by me. Wow. Proud.

#ychfurry #furryart #ych commissions #commissioned art #digtial art

[daynaschiavo]

I just added this listing on Poshmark: Noruk... Boy’s Size 3 Tan Pants... ( BNWT).

[orcoftheday]

Today's Orc of the Day is: Noruk Fast Feet

#shadow of war #dark tribe

[elleonmybeloved]

For fun, the contents of the TERA crew’s bags. Yeriss written by me, and Sahlin actually written by her creator, ExAstris, this time. Depending on whether lady muse gifts me with her presence, I may draw this out for fun.

Yeriss’ Bag:

-Whetstone. Her previous one broke so she purchased a new one in Crescentia from the Blacksmith’s shop. It’s a rectangular shaped brown rock with a hole at one end to attach to a keyring.

-Several looped leather bands. Yeriss is constantly having to replace them because her thick layered hair puts a lot of pressure on them. They are made from small strips of leathered animal hides.

-Horn sharpener and polish. The sharpener is shaped like a small wheel with a crank. The polish is a smooth gray oily substance used to clean the buildup of dust, dirt, and skin cells at the base of her horns.

-Horse flute. It’s a small wooden whistle in the shape of a horse that produces a high pitched sound when blown. Used for calling to one’s mount when unable to locate it. Yeriss bought this after she got her horse Raju.

-A small purple lip tint container. Shaped like a short cylinder, it has two halves that are twisted shut. Yeriss goes nowhere without her purple lip tint, she’s self-conscious of her naturally dark red lips.

-Half-full bottle of health potion. Health potions are already somewhat expensive and Yeriss has a bad habit of blowing her money on well, basically anything from a super rare local drink that she’s never tasted before to a less-fortunate beggar who happened to be on the street when she passed by, prone to a bleeding heart as usual. She’ll refill it when it’s truly down to the last drop.

-Several maps rolled into scrolls and kept inside a leather cylinder that slides shut. Most of them are of certain places in Arun and Shara, marked with the locations of notable taverns and weapon shops, and the residences of her friends. A few are “treasure” maps (or so she claims) that she lifted off the bodies of the various different types of pirates that she’s fought while growing up near the beaches of Ostgarath.

-A keychain with two bronze keys and one silver. The bronze ones are small and unlock the chests she uses to store her things at home. The silver one goes to her childhood diary, and is rather scuffed up after all the times her siblings tried to sneakily take it from her. Mostly Phelby.

-A blue krymetal knife of Castanic make. Used for cutting all manner of things such as fabric, meat, string, etc. Gifted to Yeriss from her parents when she was young after finishing her coming of age rite. 

-A few clean rags. Yeriss is prone to getting blood and other unmentionables on her as a melee fighter and while not a huge fusser for cleanliness, isn’t a fan of being covered in monster guts for longer than she has to be.

-An empty coin pouch with a large tear in it. Several loose coins that have spread themselves out in her pack. She has yet to tackle that mess and probably won’t get around to it any time soon.

-Noruk jerky. TERA trailmix.

Sahlin’s Bag:

-Her bag would be filled with bandages, extra arrows, food and water, and maybe some paper and a pen in case she needs to draft an important message. -Later on she might have little trinkets given to her from friends (she'll absolutely keep them), and possibly Romantic Letters in her bag that she'd get mad at people for finding. -She has a moderate collection of jewelry given to her by family and acquaintances/friends but she seldom wears it, having concerns about it giving her a disadvantage in battle or losing it.

#TERA #The Exiled Realm of Arborea #castanic #high elf #contents of the bag meme #ay yo its just me and that one other person actively posting about TERA in the tag but does that dissuade me from writing my #40+ page fanfic? nope