#t: aeron

[serenstars]

*points*

#png #t: aeron #t: fluttershy #d: hyacinth #d: vesper #i just got a bunch of ref screenshots of all of them. admiring

[ariensoul]

@fractisouls​ ( for mama~ )

they didn’t want to talk to anyone, but aeron knew that the head priestess probably would need to hear of what had happened outside of the raven’s nest. ... and perhaps that fight outside of vasselheim needed to be explained, before someone else came to report that a cleric in black robes was involved. they wished that they had done better, but... alas... there were going to be some bruises and maybe even a scar or two if they couldn’t get to healing soon enough. 

yeah, aeron had lost the fight, and then gotten in trouble when they were trying to get some healing potions. it was a bad day all around really.

“ look, i really don’t need a lecture, “  they started out, sinking into a chair with a groan, avoiding looking up at the elven woman.  “ i... i know, i fucked up. i’ll deal with it, i swear lieve’tel. “

#awkward teenage aeron in trouble~ #▌✤ ❝ destiny is overrated‚ so i think i’ll write my own ⟨ aeron — mainverse ⟩ #▌✤ ❝ aeron ;; in character #fractisouls #fractisouls — lieve'tel t.

[sornasaur]

Happy Birthday to my Aries Boy, Aeron~ aka C h a r d o n n a y B o y T o y~

I can’t find any other screenies I had saved of him so this one’ll do xD

#personal #photo post #misc #miscellaneous #main account #アイナ (aina) #c h a r d o n n a y b o y t o y #march 31st #03/31 #31/03 #aeron zombeck #aeron maverick zombeck

[wickedsnack]

getting to act 2 of cyberpunk 2077 and realizing all within about 3 minutes of each other why t-bug, jackie, and johnny are all non-romanceable

#aeron don’t look #it all makes sense #i still think i should be able to smooch t or jackie tho

[starogeorgina]

Children of the dragon

Warnings: Incest, sexual content, child birth, swearing

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen × Targ oc, Minor Aemond Targaryen × Targ oc

1.04

“Perhaps the prince would like to leave the room to give the midwives a chance to-”

“Don’t you dare fucking leave me!” You hiss, squeezing Aegon’s hand, and you stare daggers at the maester. “He’s not leaving my side.”

Reluctantly, the maester nods, swiftly leaving the room to no doubt report back to your mother, who was waiting at the door. She seemed more concerned that Aemond was nowhere to be found than you. The midwives had managed to spin your baby to the right way round, which reduced your chances of dying while giving birth breech.

Aegon hadn’t once left your side.

As the midwives ordered you to push, Aegon stood behind you, his forehead pressed against your crown, whispering words of encouragement and a promise to keep you safe while you held onto both of his hands tightly, screaming and crying as your first child entered the world.

“It’s a boy,” the midwives tell you as they wrap your screaming baby in a blanket, wipe his face, and then place him in your arms.

You sob at how tiny he is; “it’s a boy. My beautiful boy.” You stare down at him, admiring all his small features, until you feel sharp pains in your stomach and say, “Fuck! Aegon take him!”

“What?”

“Just take him!”

Nervously, Aegon takes him from your arms and into his; as soon as he does this, you grip the sheets, holding back on screaming again as you deliver the afterbirth. Afterwards, you stand up to let the midwives clean the bloodstained sheets, and you notice they keep looking at Aegon and then each other, clearly confused at why he is there.

Aegon was so mesmerized by the baby in his arms that he hadn’t noticed you’d gotten up and changed until you winced in pain getting back into bed. With a proud look on his face, he places the baby back into your arms and then kisses you on the forehead.

Moments later your mother enters the room; she shoots Aegon a disapproving glare when she sees him sitting on the foot of the bed, his hand resting on your leg, but smiles when she sees your baby for the first time. “He’s precious,” she says, brushing damp strands of hair out of your face. “I’m so proud of you, my darling. Have you and Aemond thought of a name?”

“Aeron.”

The room falls silent. You and Aegon stare at each other, and a flicker of understanding passes between you.

Your mother lets out a sound of delight. “I think the name Aeron will fit him well.”

—

Once your mother left, a wet nurse arrived, offering to take Aeron and feed him. You shake your head and say, “Thank you, but I’m going to do it myself.”

The wet nurse looks bewildered. Breastfeeding was deemed an inconvenience, and it would apparently stop you from getting pregnant again while doing it, but you didn’t care. You wanted to feed and connect with your newborn, which shouldn’t have been a problem, but the idea of it had caused the other women in the room to fluster. The wet nurse looks between you and the midwives. You became irritated and let out a sigh of annoyance.

Tracy, your handmaiden smiles sweetly at the wet nurse and says, “You may go.”

An older midwife tries to intervene. “My lady, it is known that-”

“Princess Theodora,” Aegon says sternly.

Her jaw clenches as she struggles to keep a polite smile on her face. “Princess, I believe it would be better if you hand the babe over to the wet nurse for now so you can rest.”

You had only given birth hours prior, and already they were seeking to control how you parented. If you lost control now, you would never regain it, and you would simply not allow that to happen.

“My child will be staying by my side, and his cot will be brought through to my chambers so I can tend to him overnight.”

The midwife's blank facial expression changed to one of horror. “I must insist—”

“Everyone out!” you snap.

“And if anyone has issue with the princess's choices, you can take them up with me, the firstborn son of King Viserys, or you can ask the Queen her opinion on the matter,” Aegon adds.

The midwives scurry to gather their belongings and leave. Tracy tried to hide her amusement, saying, “I will have someone move his belongings from the nursery to your bedroom right away.”

“Thank you,” you say sincerely.

When the room is empty, you look at Aegon, trying not to laugh, and ask, “The first son of King Viserys?”

He shrugs, smirking, “It worked, didn’t it? Pay them no mind. He is our-your son. He’ll grow up knowing nothing but love.”

You look down at the helpless baby in your arms and tear up. You’d never imagined you’d feel so much love at once or the urge to protect. Aeron was innocent and pure, you’d spend the rest of your life trying to shield him from the badness in the world.

Aegon kisses the back of your head, saying, “I was so scared when you started bleeding; I thought I might lose you. Both of you… I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him safe, even if it means pretending he isn’t mine.”

His voice is weak from trying to hold back tears. It never occurred to you when you first made love to Aegon how much was to be caused further down the line. But looking at your son's small, lilac eyes, you know you wouldn’t change it.

“If Aemond ever finds out Aeron is yours, he'll burn King's Landing to the ground.”

“Don't worry, he won't find out.”

—-

“Aegon!” You empty a cup of water over him. “This is serious, wake up!”

Rubbing the water from his face, he scowls up at you. His voice is laced with irritation as he looks around the room and asks, “Where are the children?”

“In bed, it’s nighttime.”

“Unless you’ve woken me to show me your sweet cunt, I’m going back to sleep.”

He was drunk. You kneel down so you are level with him. “Aemond will be here soon; you need to go. If he finds you here-”

Aegon slurred his words and waved his hand, motioning to the chair he was lying in. “He’ll what? Assume I walked into the wrong bedchamber and passed out.”

“He’s getting suspicious. If he starts to believe the rumours…you know not to come here when he wants to spend time with me.”

Aegon sits up, his greasy hair flops over in front of his face, and he always drinks heavily when Aemond wants to try for another child. When Aeron turned one, your husband suggested having another, and just over nine months later you gave birth to twin girls, Alina and Alyssa. Of course, they shared the same father as their brother.

“Spend time with you—you mean he wants to rut into you and fill you with seed.”

You hated how crude his language choice could be at times, “You need to go now.” You scrunch your nose up when Aegon leans his head against your chest, “and take a bath. You stink of ale.”

“This wasn’t a part of our plan; you can’t have any more children. Not now.”

Hearing the pain in his voice broke you. You blink away tears that threaten to build up, kissing the top of his head, “I know, I know, and I won’t.”

Aegon had begged you to leave King's Landing and start a new life somewhere the name Targaryen means nothing, and you did consider it until rumours of you and Aegon fucking in a brothel spread. Although it wasn’t true, the rest of your family became more suspicious of the time you spent with your brother.

You watch happily as Aegon plays with your son in the garden. It surprised you how protective he was over Aeron and your newborn babies. Hearing footsteps approaching, you look over your shoulder and smile, “You look lovely today, mother. We missed you at breakfast this morning.”

“Thank you, and I was praying to the gods for guidance.”

Hearing Aeron let out a cry, you spun around fast to see your son being scooped up into Aegon’s arms. He had tripped over a small rock, scraping his knee. Aegon soothes him by stroking his hair and kissing him on the cheek. A moment later, Aeron was placed back on the ground and returned to exploring the garden.

“Where is Aemond?”

You shrug. “I do not know, but I’m sure he won’t be far.”

Most days, you just saw Aemond in passing at meal times and formal events. He only visited your bedchambers when he wanted to create another heir or was frustrated.

Your mother looked at you and then into the garden. Her face settled into one of worry. “Parenthood is hard; it takes some fathers longer to adjust.”

“I don’t doubt Aemond loves the children.”

“A mother's love is different,” she squeezes your hand. “And an uncle’s as well, apparently. They are very lucky to have so many people taking care of them.”

You frown at her; your mother's tone has changed from neutral to cold and accusing. “If Aegon wishes to tell my children about dragons, Targaryen history, and bedtime stories, even if they are too young to understand them, then so be it. It's more than Aemond does.”

“And why is that?”

Her question was simple but loaded. She wasn’t willingly blind like your father; being queen, she had learned how to be sleek, observant, and cunning. She knew the truth but didn’t dare outright ask.

“Why don’t you ask him?”

It might have been possible for you to sneak out of King's Landing with Aeron without raising suspicion; you would have claimed to be taking him with you while dragon riding, but after delivering twin girls, it became impossible. You wouldn’t be able to ride with all three children safely, and the moment someone noticed Sunfyre riding alongside Dallax, the consequences would be dire.

A knock at the door causes you to jump back just as Aemond enters the room. He looks between you and Aegon and rolls his eyes. “Lost and wondering again?”

“Piss off.”

Aemond smirks, enjoying seeing his brother in such a state. “You should sleep it off,” you say softly. “Come on, we should get you back to your own bedchamber.”

“Allow me,” Aemond brushed aside, pulling Aegon to his feet. “Come, brother, I doubt my wife wants to spend time with you at this time of night.”

You hold your breath, waiting to hear Aegon’s drunken response, but he says nothing. It’s not until you meet Aemond’s gaze that you realize it was more of a question than a comment.

You try to laugh it off as a joke. “I’m going to bathe before bed, so I'd rather you both left.”

Aegon smirks at your response.

Aemond simply nods his head, turns the other way, and leaves with Aegon without saying another word.

—

You rub at your skin, desperate to get the smell of Aegon off you. Usually you loved the smell of your lover lingering in the air, but not when Aemond was around. You always feared he’d smell Aegon on you. The thought of how paranoid you’d become almost made you laugh out loud. Most of the time, you were invisible to your husband; if you ever did leave, he would be the last to notice.

In the years you’d been married, he had yet to show any real interest in being your husband, which is why your affair with Aegon was so easy to carry on despite the guilt that occasionally overwhelmed you. It wasn’t until you gave birth that you understood your mother's comment. Aemond would always put the family name first, but Aegon would put you first.

Your relationship with Aegon wasn’t just based on sex, although he had become addicted to fucking you like he claimed he would. He would take you anywhere he could, and not just with his cock. He loved using his mouth and fingers to make you scream and beg for him. But the way he made you feel safe and loved was the best part; he adored all three of your children. Your days were spent playing with your children, riding dragons, or sitting beside him reading or talking. But you knew if anyone else found out, they would never understand.

Once you finished bathing, you waited for a couple of hours, but when Aemond didn’t return, you decided to go to bed. After changing into a nightdress and unbraiding your hair, you crawl underneath the bed sheets, feeling your eyes heavy. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

—

Feeling a dip in the bed beside you, you turn to see what's going on, and you’re shocked to see Aemond getting in the bed. The moonlight was the only source of light, making it hard to read the expressions on his face. “Aemond, what are you doing?”

You freeze, feeling his lips press against yours. “I am your husband.”

You’re taken aback by the playfulness in his voice; it's an unfamiliar sound. You remained stunned as Aemond started kissing your neck. Your shared intimate moments usually consisted of you lying fully dressed while Aemond did what he needed to quickly. The kisses shared were usually out of curiosity, and foreplay wasn’t something you’d ever done before.

Aemond gently pushes you back onto the bed before removing his clothes. He lay back down beside you and resume kissing your neck while his hand caresses your breast. “I’ve never seen you before,” he says, his breath sounding ragged. “Not truly, not all of you.”

You gasped when he pulled down the front of your nightdress so that your breasts were on full display. Aemond sits back and pushes the fabric up to your hips, but for the first time, he actually looks down at your sex instead of avoiding it. He mumbled something you can’t make out then kissed you, his hand running up and down your thigh.

You cup the side of his face and sigh, “You don’t need to do this. You don’t need... do more than you want.”

“You are my wife,” Aemond says, moving to cup your warm slit, his finger teasing the entrance. “I must admit that I have neglected my duties in attending to your needs.”

Something inside you stirs—an emotion you can’t place.

“Tonight I’m going to put another heir into you.” Aemond slides a finger into you, kissing you at the same time.

Not knowing what to do with your hands, you place them gently on his back. Aemond withdraws his finger and lines himself up with you, then slams into you. Removing his lips from yours, he takes as much of your breast into his mouth while squeezing the other with his free hand. You arch your back and let out a small moans he takes you roughly.

Aemond doesn’t last long and cums quickly, pressing his head against yours and breathing heavily. He pecks you on the lips, pulling out and rolling to his side. You wait for him to leave, but when he closes his eye, you realise he has no intention of going. You face the other way, close your eyes, and pray that morning comes quickly.

—

You collapse onto the bed, panting and gasping; Aemond was most definitely determined to get you pregnant. At first, you weren’t overly worried because you had plenty of time to drink moon tea, but it was now much more difficult considering he had sex with you twice since waking up.

You wanted to know what brought on this unusual behavior. You wanted to ask Aemond why he even wanted another child when he hardly saw the three he believed were his. He didn’t return from his travels for over a week the last time you gave birth; he briefly visited the twins in their nursery then left again.

“You don’t sleep well, do you?” Aemond asks while putting his clothes back on.

“No, the dreams I have keep me awake.”

Aemond looks intrigued. “Do you get them often?”

Growing up, your brothers would mock you and Helaena; they would call you weird. Of course Aegon stopped long ago; he was the only one you ever truly confided in. “Yes, I’ve been having the same one for years.”

“What do you see?” Aemond sat down on a chair facing the bed; he seemed serious. “In the past, I never listened, but I’m asking you to trust me enough to tell me.”

You feel ashamed. Aemond wasn’t a bad person; he just didn’t love you or your children. “It’s hard to describe. It’s not just what I see; it’s what I feel,” You clutch a pillow to your chest. “I’m in the sky, surrounded by clouds. The sun is shining down on me, and then it disappears. Then I’m falling, and I feel this intense feeling that's trying to suffocate me, like a weight being pressed down on my chest. Then I hear it—a woman screaming. I think she’s dying because her whole world turns black.”

You don’t realize you’re crying until the wetness runs off your cheeks. Feeling awkward, you wipe them away. Aemond gulps, “I’m sorry; I never realized your nights were plagued by such images. Do you ever have other dreams?”

“Yes, I had a vision of our nephew Jace dying. So I sent a raven to Dragonstone, making sure he was okay.” It wasn't until you became a mother that you understood your family's hatred towards your nephews was pointless.

He seems surprised by your honesty. “Well, I’m sure your mind will be at rest knowing he is alive. But I don’t think you should waste your generosity on them, and I definitely don’t want Aeron interacting with bastards.”

“Your fight with the Velaryon boys is not mine, and it’s definitely not my children’s.” Aemond glared at you but didn’t argue. You let out a deep breath, feeling exhausted. “Speaking of the children, I should probably go check on them.”

“I’m sure our dear brother has beaten you to it,” he snorts. “I should thank him really. He gave me some good counsel last night, which was surprising given the state he was in.”

“What did he say?”

“Something along the lines of how ungrateful I was and that I needed to cherish you before you were gone for good. I assured him I wouldn’t let you or the children out of my sight from now on, in case you disappear,” he chuckles darkly. “But he did make me see that I need to make more of an effort, and now that I’m here, he won’t need to be around you or them so much.”

The emotion you couldn’t place before returns, but now you can name what it was.

Fear.

Horrible, agonizing fear that something terrible was going to happen.

#house of the dragon #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii targaryen x you #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon fanfic #Aegon II Targaryen/you #Aegon II Targaryen smut #Aemond Targaryen x you #Aemond Targaryen smut #children of the dragon #Aemond Targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x oc #aegon ii targaryen/oc #house of the dragon fanfiction #aemond targaryen x original character #aemond targaryen/oc #aemond targaryen x female oc #aegon ii smut #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii x oc #aegon targaryen x fem oc #Aegon Targaryen x oc

[dontbotherwiththepronunciation]

Warning: Religion, God-critical (that term makes me feel like I'm writing meta that bashes a teen girl or pretends she is the villain), nihilism, explorations of suffering according to abrahamic faiths and particularly christianity, canon fucked upness in Aeron and Theon's stories. LONG POST.

I've been thinking about the Drowned God. I know people usually connect catholicism with the faith of the seven, which is fair especially when looking at it as an institution, and the faith of the Drowned God gets compared more often to Scandinavian/Norse mythology, more specifically to Valhalla as the afterlife (although I think the feasts given by Ægir and Ran in Skáldskaparmál would be even more fitting, but that's only me nitpicking), but the catholic catechism sees suffering as something that is both redemptive and also empowering and this reminds me of Aeron and Theon.

Christianity on itself believes that suffering, when united with the Passion of Jesus, atones for one's sins and thus allows entry into heaven. Catholicism specially sees suffering as an inherent part of the human condition brought upon by human sin against God.

“As long as [Adam] remained in the divine intimacy, man would not have to suffer or die.”  - Catechism of the Catholic Church

But since Adam and Eve committed sin by eating the forbidden fruit (or as I like to see it in my I-view-very-important-religions-as-basically-high-fantasy interpretation, Eve chose agency & knowledge and cut the strings this divine puppeteer used to limit her with), suffering was casted upon them and all their descendants. And then, according to the incredibly specific official bible timeline from the Houston Christian University, 3974 years, six months, and ten days later (skdghsfbdhaaahahahahahah) Jesus was sent to earth to cause some havoc and basically tell everyone that the suffering, the struggle, the oppression and all the horrible things that happened to innocent people in our world would eventually have a payoff after death.

The more strict practitioners (ex. flagellants) used to (and some still do) find spiritual benefits when causing physical pain upon themselves. Corporal mortification was seen as an act that brought you closer to purity. Suffering made you ascend in the eyes of God. Suffering was encouraged. Suffering was noble.

Suffering was a promise of hope.

The promise of eternal life (and the eventual bodily resurrection) allowed people to believe that, as long as they placed their faith in Christ, the suffering would not be tied to a tragedy.

The phrase "God is Dead" first appears in Victor Hugo's Les Misérables but it became more popular through Nietzsche's The Gay Science (Insert SpongeBob hand gesture). A simplified summary of the themes explored in The Gay Science would basically be Nietzsche claiming that christianity invented an ideal inexistent utopia that is too farfetched from reality. He sees christianity as a common, anti-intellectual philosophy for simple minded people that enslaves its believers. But by seeing it as something inexistent and false, by "killing God", the illusion of divinity is lost and all the hope and consolation that came with it are gone too, leaving humanity in a state of tragedy; nihilism.

God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it? - The Gay Science

To some extent I feel like he is the reborn Eve in the narrative. By denying the superior force he feels he gains control over his own person, but is left in a world of pain at the burden of his existence being tied to mortality and purposelessness (oh, sweet paradox)

Nietzsche was a self-proclaimed nihilist although he didn't seem to want to be one. He saw nihilism as the result of the loss one felt at the realisation that life, and all the suffering in it, had no greater purpose. "God is Dead" was calling the readers into finding a way to cope with the situation.

And for anyone who started reading this because I mentioned the Drowned God, sorry it took so long to get here, but I relate all of this specifically to Aeron and Theon and their connections to religion. I believe in Theon's bind to the Old Gods and, as he is in ADWD, it seems he has come to vaguely believe in both of these faiths, although the Old Gods are more present in his story. Aeron though, is so reminiscent of this concept.

And I know that christianity is not the only religion tied to the faith of the Drowned God.

The Osiris myth is arguably the most important one in Egyptian mythology and I think the motif of "What is dead may never die, but rises again harder and stronger" is just as if not even more present in that one.

In it, Set murders his brother Osiris. The reasons behind the murder vary depending on source, but one of them portrays it as revenge for Osiris having sex with Set's wife, Nephtys. Set usurps his brother's throne while Nephtys and Osiris' wife, Isis, search for his body, then mummify and revive him. Personally I don't consider it to be very similar to the myth of the Drowned God but it feels more resemblant to it than Jesus' very normal "came back without a scratch" resurrection. Osiris doesn't get that benefit. He comes back bruised and bandaged, with death being visible on him.

Christianity also has refrained from sacrificing their own but Quetzalcoatl and Tláloc, aztec deities, would demand human sacrifice through drowning during Etzalcualiztli (the sixth month of the aztec calendar) and Tláloc specifically promised an utopic afterlife to those who had water-involved deaths, but even more to those who willingly gave themselves to the water. Celts also practiced drowning sacrifices, but I know too little about them to be honest.

What I am trying to say is, if actively searching, one could alway find similitudes to other faiths, but because abrahamic faiths have been the ones that prevailed through time and the ones I've experienced most, I will focus on them.

Alright, Florence play "What the water gave me"

Drowning, baptisms and water imagery

I wonder what it would be like to be a Catholic, to dip your hand into the cold water and to believe in its holiness. - The Moth Diaries (Yes, I read the Moth Diaries, shut up! It is what if Carmilla and Twilight had a child.)

Christianity is kind of basic when it comes to water symbolism, but it's loyal to its theme.

There isn't a lot to speculate on water, it "washes yours sins away" but there is a common pattern in characters that belong to the Bible that is repeated over and over again and somehow Aeron embodies it pretty perfectly.

We are confronted with characters who have lived sinfully.

On the other hand, I do wonder what would be considered as "sinful" according to the Drowned God. Their religion is passed down orally and has no scriptures that I know of, so a set of rules can be more ambiguous depending on whoever is preaching. Lust, greed, wrath and pride, all considered official sins by christian doctrine, are encouraged by the faith of the Drowned God in the form of salt wives, raiding and their beliefs of ethnic superiority. The only sin I can think of that is specific to the them is that Ironborn shouldn't kill Ironborn, but even that is absolved when water is involved since drowning another Ironborn is alright and a death near the water is considered a good death.

We are born to suffer, that our sufferings might make us strong. - The Prophet, AFFC

Suffering is also encouraged, so I am assuming that any type of hedonism would be seen as sinful too (which would-be contradictory to what I stated above, but alright maybe GRRM was a little weaker when it came to world-building this time or maybe I am misunderstanding something. If so, please correct me, I genuinely am curious about these topics), if that is the case, then yeah Aeron was sinful and has reasons to look down on his former self.

Young I was, and vain, but the sea washed my follies and my vanities away. That man drowned, nephew. His lungs filled with seawater, and the fish ate the scales off his eyes. When I rose again, I saw clearly. - Theon I, ACOK

Immediately, something like scales fell from Saul’s eyes, and he could see again. He got up and was baptised, - Acts 9:18

Here is one of the many character allusions I think one can identify in Aeron. Saul of Tarsus, disputed Apostle, leads a violent life persecuting early christians until lightning strikes him during one of his travels and blinds him. For three days he starves and spends his time praying until Ananias of Damascus comes to his rescue and baptises him.

It's one of the less obvious ones, but I just like how they used the scales-blindness imagery and while this storm was one at land, not at sea, there is another biblical character who shares more similitudes with Aeron.

As a kid the book of Jonah was one of my favourites, so of course I love Aeron!

A prophet, an equal, but weak in his beliefs, too tentative when he should be nothing but certain in his faith! God tells him to go overthrow Nineveh (east) and, because these prophets never learn not to contradict the narrative, he tries fleeing to Jaffa (west). On the way there, the ship he is traveling on is barely holding on because God has sent a storm against them. The sailors blame Jonah, Jonah takes the blame and goes "alright, you know what? Just throw me over board and the storm will cease." The sailors refuse, but Jonah goes overboard anyway. He comes back to the surface three days later reborn in the water as as a new man, now fully convinced to follow his path as a prophet.

Depending on the translation there are a lot of similitudes between the texts. Even the imagery used for describing settings is alike. I know religious scriptures get a bad rep because of all the atrocities committed in their names (valid, very valid), but viewed simply as text, they have some truly beautiful prose and the Book of Jonah is so vivid and precious, and it is very reminiscent to some of Aeron's chapters.

From inside the fish Jonah prayed to the Lord his God. He said:  “In my distress I called to the Lord, and he answered me.  From deep in the realm of the dead I called for help,/out of the belly of Sheol I cried,  and you listened to my cry./and you heard my voice.  You hurled me into the depths, into the very heart of the seas,  and the currents swirled about me;  all your waves and breakers swept over me. I said, ‘I have been banished  from your sight;  yet I will look again  toward your holy temple.’  The engulfing waters were at my throat,  the deep surrounded me;  seaweed was wrapped around my head.  To the roots of the mountains I sank down;  the earth beneath barred me in forever.  But you, Lord my God,  brought my life up from the pit.  “When my life was ebbing away,  I remembered you, Lord,  and my prayer rose to you,  to your holy temple.  “Those who cling to worthless idols  turn away from God’s love for them.  But I, with shouts of grateful praise,  will sacrifice to you. What I have vowed I will make good.  I will say, ‘Salvation comes from the Lord.’”  And the Lord commanded the fish, and it vomited Jonah onto dry land. - Jonah 2

The seaweed in his head, the belly of the beast (Silence/Sheol), the crashing of the waves, the engulfing waters.

I won't even really go into The Forsaken with the Jonah comparison, because to me the Forsaken is the most open "Jesus in the dessert" analogy, but I still find it compelling to imagine Jonah and Aeron, both inside the whale/ship desperately praying to their God. Only one of them finds salvation and it's not Aeron.

But asides from setting and aesthetic there are these:

The god took me deep beneath the waves and drowned the worthless thing I was. When he cast me forth again he gave me eyes to see, ears to hear, and a voice to spread his word, that I might be his prophet and teach his truth to those who have forgotten. - The Prophet, AFFC

Ears that hear and eyes that see— the Lord has made them both. - Proverbs 20:12

Otherwise that they might see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their hearts, and turn and be healed. - Isaiah 6:10

They have mouths but cannot speak, eyes but cannot see. They have ears but cannot hear, nor is there breath in their mouths. - Psalm 135:16 & Psalm 115:5

There is a singer from my country, she wrote a song called "Thanks for life" and then killed herself three months later (Iconic behaviour). The song is still considered a "humanist hymn", which I think is morbidly hilarious. In the lyrics, she keeps thanking life for things that should be basic to life; for having eyes, ears, mouth and hands. I think there is something interesting in how these are all basic atributes most people are born with but these acts of gratefulness, at least in Aeron and Jonah's case are not made in bad faith. They are genuine and true.

 The Drowned God gives every man a gift. - The Prophet AFFC

Are these seen as the God's gifts too? If so, are these acts of gratefulness supposed to make the believers humble and less ambitious? Or is it just that the God is a niggardly one? We know of Aeron having thought his gift was that he could piss longer and farther than most, and later on he recognises the power of his speech, his eloquence. Surprisingly, Aeron is never stripped of that gift once Euron captures him.

His eloquence is his strength, through it he preaches, leads religious rites, advices lords and convinces others to join the faith. And of course, he also baptises.

Baptisms, baptisms, baptising, cleaning the sins way, water as a metaphor for blood, birth, rebirth, John the Baptist!

This is where the storm -> near death experience -> spiritual reawakening pattern ends, but the similarities become more clear when we recognise both of them as heralds whose strength lies in their reputation and their oratory, something both Euron & Herod recognise and it is what keeps them from killing him (or in Herod's case at least for some time).

I have mentioned on my blog that I don't buy a lot into the Jesus-Theon comparisons and I will mention it again later but, since I am a hypocrite, I will take the Theon-Jesus bait and use it as a prop for my Aeron-John thing. As of now there are just two instances involving Theon that actually make me think of Jesus:

Psalms 22

His baptism

Jesus baptism marks his place as "messiah" but it also announces the beginning of his true calvary. By having the Holy Spirit descend on him after the water has cleansed him, he accepts his destiny as his father's (God) lamb to the slaughter. According to Matthew's Gospel it is even Jesus who has to beg John to baptise him, although John is initially reluctant. After the baptism Jesus departs to the dessert knowing of the suffering that awaits for him. This is not the case for Theon. Theon initially doesn't even want to be baptised. It's almost like he is subconsciously trying to escape what is to come after the baptism: the anguish.

Lifting the skin, his uncle pulled the cork and directed a thin stream of seawater down upon Theon's head. It drenched his hair and ran over his forehead into his eyes. Sheets washed down his cheeks, and a finger crept under his cloak and doublet and down his back, a cold rivulet along his spine. The salt made his eyes burn, until it was all he could do not to cry out. He could taste the ocean on his lips. "Let Theon your servant be born again from the sea, as you were," Aeron Greyjoy intoned. "Bless him with salt, bless him with stone, bless him with steel." - Theon I, ACOK

I love Theon's baptism by Aeron. It goes badly and it's tragicomical. It feels like a mockery of Jesus' baptism. A satirised Monty Python type of scene.

Here he comes, our cocksure young man who sees himself as the chosen one, holding a promise of paper while thinking there is an entire comet heralding his return, here he comes, our prodigal son, all "Don't need no advice! I got a plan! I know the direction, the lay on the land! [...] Nuh-nuh-nothing can break-nuh-noting can break me down!" only to get cold feet and be made to kneel in the mud, annoyed at the custom that would have actually anointed him, and then having to blink the tears away because it hurts him. @/shebsart has a really beautiful and intense but also comical depiction of the scene and I really love it.

It's also a little sad. It shows a disconnection from what should have been his culture and faith. The saltwater washed Aeron's follies away. Aeron embraces it, he drinks saltwater, bathes in saltwater and would probably not mind it on his eyes. The saltwater nurtures Aeron, but to Theon it only gives pain.

Ok now, to

Reek, Aeron, Job and Jeyne, Falia and Job's wife

(I think a reading of The Book of Job could also be applied to Lancel Lannister with Amerei Frey taking the role of Job's wife and Jaime Lannister acting as Job's friends, but I won't write about him and even Aeron will be in second place. @/nosaeanchorage wrote meta about the religious journeys Theon, Aeron and Lancel experience involving trauma responses which I found to be very interesting and well formed, so yeah I'd recommend reading it!)

The book of Job has a theme in its story. Can you guess it? It's further suffering!

(In a very deep voice: Where were you when I feel from grace? A frozen heart, an empty space)

So, Job is this guy living a rather fulfilling and morally righteous life; he is happy with his wife and children, has a few friends, is wealthy and healthy and, most importantly, he is God-fearing. Satan tells God that the only reason Job is loyal to him and serves him so dutifully, is because God has been good to him. God gets insecure and tells Satan "alright, let's see if you are right. Go torture him a little. You can take his riches, his children and his health in that order. You can take pretty much everything he values, but keep him alive!"

Job becomes a miserable wreck of a man.

It's not a favourite of mine, but it has a pretty good interval of "pathetic wet kitten blorbo" and "angry, scornful almost defiant in his resentment survivor" so I still enjoy it. And it also opens the question on whether "divine punishment" is really something inherently based on justice and goodness, it defies the way many religions tend to preach that bad things can only happen to bad people and, unlike the suffering promised by Christ, there is no redemption to be found through it. Job at some point gets healthy again and his riches are restored, but this was not a given. The suffering is pointless unless he finds a meaning to it.

This doesn't really sound a lot like Theon or Aeron. Both of them were deprived of well adjusted, happy lives since childhood, but Theon's behaviour towards Ramsay sometimes reminds me of Job's feelings for God, and Euron literally claims himself to be a God.

Ramsay is never directly compared by the text or any characters to a God (well maybe he himself does, but that's arguable), the closest we come to such is this:

“The gods are not done with me,” Theon answered, wondering if this could be the killer, the night walker who had stuffed Yellow Dick’s cock into his mouth and pushed Roger Ryswell’s groom off the battlements. Oddly, he was not afraid. He pulled the glove from his left hand. “Lord Ramsay is not done with me.” - A Ghost in Winterfell, ADWD

But Theon's fear for him sometimes makes me think of one. He is so terrified of Ramsay and sees him as this unbeatable force, but keeps telling himself and others that whatever Ramsay has done, as nefarious as it is, is an act of mercy and goodness. I know there are different interpretations to that behaviour. Some readers tend to believe that he has successfully gaslighted himself, others see it as a remnant of his sardonic and sarcastic sense of humour. Personally, I imagine it's a mixture of both. There is enough textual evidence for me to believe he does not truly think Ramsay is justified in his actions, but I can imagine how he might try telling himself that no punishment goes undeserved as a way of coping, which is what he tells Jeyne too.

In the Book of Job, our poor little meow meow goes through different reactions as his torture starts, many of them resemble Theon's thoughts, never fully by text, but very much in spirit.

He would crush me with a storm and multiply my wounds for no reason. He would not let me catch my breath but would overwhelm me with misery. If it is a matter of strength, he is mighty! And if it is a matter of justice, who can challenge him? Even if I were innocent, my mouth would condemn me; if I were blameless, it would pronounce me guilty. - Job 9:17-20

How long will you torment me and crush me with words?  Ten times now you have reproached me; shamelessly you attack me.   If it is true that I have gone astray, my error remains my concern alone. If indeed you would exalt yourselves above me and use my humiliation against me, then know that God has wronged me and drawn his net around me.  Though I cry, ‘Violence!’ I get no response; though I call for help, there is no justice. He has blocked my way so I cannot pass; he has shrouded my paths in darkness.  He has stripped me of my honor and removed the crown from my head.  He tears me down on every side till I am gone; he uproots my hope like a tree.  His anger burns against me; he counts me among his enemies.  His troops advance in force; they build a siege ramp against me and encamp around my tent.  He has alienated my family from me; my acquaintances are completely estranged from me.  My relatives have gone away; my closest friends have forgotten me.  My guests and my female servants count me a foreigner; they look on me as on a stranger.  I summon my servant, but he does not answer, though I beg him with my own mouth.  My breath is offensive to my wife; I am loathsome to my own family.  Even the little boys scorn me; when I appear, they ridicule me.  All my intimate friends detest me; those I love have turned against me.  I am nothing but skin and bones; I have escaped only by the skin of my teeth. - Job 19:1-20

That, the ambivalent conviction that they deserve to be punished, and the overall fear of their torturer's omnipotence are written similarly. Of course in Job's narrative the omnipotence is real, in Theon's it is only perceived, but so, so strongly.

And this is where Jeyne takes an interesting role.

Job's wife is a fun character and I admire her. To some extent she and Jeyne serve similar purposes in the story, since they defy Job and Theon's conviction of their fate being unescapable. Sadly, in Job and his wife's case, she is wrong because you can't defeat God and you can't escape him, but I still appreciate her condemnation of Job's passivity and God's supposed goodness. The text focuses on Job's pain but never on the collateral pain that reaches his wife. She might not have fallen sick, but since her living condition is tied to that of her husband she is affected by all this. She has lost her riches, her happiness, her children, and only because of God's whims, someone she begins to hate. She also begins to loathe Job and the way he keeps making excuses for God and justifying the tragedy that befalls them. So, she tells Job:

“Are you still maintaining your integrity? Curse God and die!” - Job 2:9

(fucking metal, I love her, iconic behaviour)

The holy scriptures are not very compassionate to women who defy men or God, they get vilified and punished, but I applaud that bravery.

In Jeyne's case, her defying of Theon's conviction that Ramsay is unescapable is done much more gently and the relationship between them appears to be one of mutual compassion; Theon often tries to victim-blame her in the same way he blames himself but never seems to truly internalise that, Jeyne apparently doesn't hold his participation in her abuse against him and considers him her saviour. But still! Jeyne, as meek and scared as she is, is the one who by constantly asking for help, by acting undignified in her suffering and not simply taking it without question, manages to water this seed of doubt in Theon's mind, even if he himself isn't fully aware of that.

And it's kind of fun to think how, although Jeyne and Falia are narrative props with similar purposes, it's Jeyne and Aeron who take the place of Job's wife. Falia is Job, fully sure that Euron is merciful and will treat her with respect and care for their children, that Euron will not forsake her, while Aeron is immediately telling her to run for her life.

Maybe because, unlike Theon, his faith is already placed in a God.

Jesus Christ & The Forsaken (and Lodos and Theon)

(Need new song...Wow a yard SAIL!)

Lodos

I'm going to clear the issue with Lodos very fast, because he too seems to be like a wink at Jesus Christ. Lodos literally claims he is the Drowned God's Son, dies, then supposedly comes back from the dead some time later like "'sup", leads a rebellion against the current ruler of the Iron Islands and dies again this time with all his followers being persecuted and killed, so yeah, he seems like a satirised version of Jesus Christ but there is not a lot more to that.

Theon

I have seen people claiming connections between the two but never in a manner I could agree with, and I feel so stupid because I don't get it. People sometimes compared his and Robb's relationship to Jesus & Judas, which aside from the suicidal thoughts post "betrayal" doesn't seem very alike. The "betrayal" was done for different reasons, the reactions to the "betrayal" are different, and the guilt also comes from different places. By placing Theon as Judas we also sanctify Robb in a manner I find almost insulting since Robb condoned and approved of Theon's torture by the Boltons. If I'm going to compare Robb and Theon it will be more to God & Satan, but even there it's only a superficial similitude.

Now, Aeron, Aeron, my love, Aeron!

My God, my God, why have thou forsaken me? - Psalms 22:1

“Still praying, priest? Your god has forsaken you.” - The Forsaken, TWOW

Even the title feels like a reference. The trajectory of Aeron's belief during the chapter resembles the psalms too and, although I never believe in anything I think, their similitudes are what makes me hopeful about Aeron's fate; the idea that he is not truly forsaken.

As hinted above, the Psalms begin lamenting themselves over the anguish that God is seemingly not stoping, yet as they continue the psalmist becomes even more convinced of his God being a merciful one who will provide a cure for his afflictions, one whom the world should praise.

For he has not despised or scorned the suffering of the afflicted one; he has not hidden his face from him but has listened to his cry for help.  From you comes the theme of my praise in the great assembly; before those who fear you I will fulfil my vows.  The poor will eat and be satisfied; those who seek the LORD will praise him— may your hearts live forever!  All the ends of the earth will remember and turn to the LORD, and all the families of the nations will bow down before him, for dominion belongs to the LORD and he rules over the nations. All the rich of the earth will feast and worship; all who go down to the dust will kneel before him— those who cannot keep themselves alive.  Posterity will serve him; future generations will be told about the Lord.  They will proclaim his righteousness, declaring to a people yet unborn: He has done it! - Psalms 22:24-31

According to most interpretations, the psalmist himself is Jesus. This is the suffering of Christ and from Psalms 22:22-31 it is spoken by him after coming back from the dead. He encourages others, those who have witnessed his anguish, to believe. This is also what Aeron does once Falia is bound to the prow with him, he tells her of better times to come.

“Falia Flowers,” he called. “Have courage, girl! All this will be over soon, and we will feast together in the Drowned God’s watery halls.” - The Forsaken, TWOW

This also slightly mirrors Jesus and the Penitent Thief, who is crucified next to the Messiah and fears what is to come after death. He asks Jesus to not forget him.

Jesus answered him, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.” - Luke 23:43

It's so remarkable and moving to me how Aeron has always tried to protect Falia from Euron. He doesn't know her, if he were to have known her he would have probably looked at her with scorn, to some extent she has acted as an accomplice to Euron in his captivity, and yet...he promises this frivolous greenlander girl that the two of them will feast together...

The end of the chapter also carries christian imagery that seems to stem from Christ's crucifixion.

“Your Grace,” said Torwold Browntooth. “I have the priests. What do you want done with them?” “Bind them to the prows,” Euron commanded. “My brother on the Silence. Take one for yourself. Let them dice for the others, one to a ship. Let them feel the spray, the kiss of the Drowned God, wet and salty.” - The Forsaken, TWOW

When the soldiers crucified Jesus, they took his clothes, dividing them into four shares, one for each of them, with the undergarment remaining. This garment was seamless, woven in one piece from top to bottom.  Let’s not tear it,” they said to one another. “Let’s decide by lot who will get it.” This happened that the scripture might be fulfilled that said, “They divided my clothes among them and cast lots for my garment.” So this is what the soldiers did. - John 19:23-24

They bound Aeron Damphair tight with strips of leather that would shrink when wet, clad only in his beard and breechclout.  - The Forsaken, TWOW

The overall mental image summoned by that description is also rather similar to the typical depictions of Christ on the cross.

And even prior to The Forsaken, there are still some smaller, more superficial similitudes between the two.

Aeron lives sparingly, has no material possessions save for his waterskin and robe, he has a cult of followers devoted to him, and disregards governmental authority since he obeys to a higher power, one who encourages suffering in the same manner christianity does. Aeron fasts, goes swimming in cold water, drinks salt water, all this as a way to serve his God and become a living example of their teachings.

So yeah, in my opinion Aeron is the closest we have to an ASOIAF Jesus reference. It's not Theon, Theon's torture by Ramsay and the torture he imposes on himself afterward have no ideological purpose, it is pointless and unwilling. In my opinion, it's not Jon, it's not Beric, it surely isn't Robb, I hope it's not Dany (although I see a lot of abrahamic imagery in her (Moses + Lot's wife)), it's the Damphair. And I love that. I love how (according to the the author) one of the least sympathetic characters in this story has been somewhat equated to Jesus. A bold move, one that I've enjoyed a lot.

Anyway, in order to further develop this.

The Storm God, Euron and the Devil

Let's go!

I feel like Euron would appreciate this type of stuff he is flamboyant, weird and comical. If we ever get an ASOIAF musical I like to believe this could be inspiration for a duet between them.

Monotheism is a rare concept in ASOIAF.

The Many-Faced God could be the closest we have to a (explored in text) monotheistic religion, although it is monotheistic in the way Hinduism could be considered monotheistic: The belief in one supreme god whose qualities and forms are represented by a multitude of different deities, all which emanate from one alone. 

Out of the religions that are explored in the books none of them are really monotheistic, although some of them demand for their worshippers to worship them and no other.

Most real-life monotheistic religions have a type of "anti" to their god, who is not a god themselves, but is a being superior to humankind meant to drive them to perdition. They function more as a tool for testing human's moral compass and will to follow the true God than a foe. The word "Satan" means "adversary", but this is in reference to his relationship to humans, not to God.

In Goethe's Faust, God and one of his devils, Mephistopheles, make a bet and Mephistopheles is fully devoted to winning that bet. He does everything in his power to prove human virtue isn't true and that corruption will always prevail. The story proves he has a point. Faust does some completely despicable and heinous stuff and is very immoral, and still Mephistopheles loses anyway because God decides to pardon Faust's misdeeds and allows him to enter Heaven. Mephistopheles never stood a chance. He was fighting the narrative and the writer of the narrative and he could only be defeated by them. He is only a minion of God who doesn't comprehend his position and believes he is capable of surpassing a creature who is above all.

This is pretty compliant with christianity's views on the devil.

Hoverer, it is not the case with beliefs like those of Aeron and Melisandre. They don't regard the Storm God and the Great Other as mere petty minions doing the Drowned God's or R'hllor's dirty work. They see them as threats and all other gods as their petty minions.

"There are no gods but R'hllor and the Other, whose name may not be said." - Victarion I, ADWD

"Your Drowned God is a demon, he is no more than a thrall of the Other, the dark god whose name must not be spoken." - Victarion I, ADWD

The Storm God is considered an enemy of the Drowned God, and although his labour is similar to that of the christian devil (driving men/sailors into their doom), he seems to be his own creature.

And still! When comparing Aeron's role to Jesus Christ in the Forsaken, I can't help but think of Euron, the Storm God, and Satan as one.

“Kneel, brother,” the Crow’s Eye commanded. “I am your king, I am your god. Worship me, and I will raise you up to be my priest.” - The Forsaken, TWOW

(Not gonna lie, I think it's very fun how out of all the Greyjoy's the one whose name is directly derived from "God" is actually Theon, but alright, whatever...)

We don't really know what triggered Aeron's religious awakening. With Theon, Ramsay and his time in Winterfell is the easiest answer, with Aeron it's a mystery and I don't dare to say religion was a coping mechanism for Euron's sexual abuse or Urri's death because, based on what we know, the more plausible options are that alcohol and sex were the coping mechanisms.

We only know he went down in a storm and washed up ashore. On itself that is enough to be traumatic, so I don't know how much we should speculate on it.

A smile played across Euron's blue lips. "I am the storm, my lord. The first storm, and the last. - The Reaver, AFFC

I don't even have a theory, I don't have any proof or a structured idea. This just seemed remarkable to me. The concept that Euron might be involved in whatever happened during that storm is tempting and fun, nothing more.

Now, if Aeron is playing the role of Jesus, with Falia as the penitent thief during the "crucification", then I think I can claim Euron is taking the role of Satan; especially during The Forsaken.

After an undetermined, but apparently long period of starvation and isolation, Euron finally comes to Aeron, dressed in black and red, and presents the equivalent to the Devil's three temptations.

Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. After fasting forty days and forty nights, he was hungry. The tempter came to him and said, “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.”  Jesus answered,  “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’ ” Then the devil took him to the holy city and had him stand on the highest point of the temple.  “If you are the Son of God,” he said, “throw yourself down. For it is written: “ ‘He will command his angels concerning you, and they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.’ ”  Jesus answered him,  “It is also written: ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’ ” Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. “All this I will give you,” he said, “if you will kneel and worship me.” Jesus said to him,  “Away from me, Satan! For it is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve him only.’ ” Then the devil left him, and angels came and attended him. - Matthew 4:1-11

“That’s it, priest. Gulp it down. The wine of the warlocks, sweeter than your seawater, with more truth in it than all the gods of earth.” - The Forsaken, TWOW

“Pray to me. Beg me to end your torment, and I will.” “Not even you would dare,” said the Damphair. “I am your brother. No man is more accursed than the kinslayer.” - The Forsaken, TWOW

“Kneel, brother,” the Crow’s Eye commanded. “I am your king, I am your god. Worship me, and I will raise you up to be my priest.” - The Forsaken, TWOW

I'm not going to pretend they are the same, with exception of the third one, but even the others have small resemblances; nourishment of some sort after starving + trying to get the other killed, although the later one reminds me more of an encounter between him and Victarion.

Euron turned to face him, his bruised blue lips curled in a half smile. "Perhaps we can fly. All of us. How will we ever know unless we leap from some tall tower?" - The Reaver, AFFC

The last temptation, is the most interesting to me, because Euron has already distorted Aeron's faith into being chosen as King. He played at the edge of legality and won! And yet now, during The Forsaken he is experiencing a sort of existential defeat. Aeron is not being rescued by any god, but he would rather die as a martyr or accept even more torture and suffering rather than serve him. It doesn't matter how much Euron tries to convince him that his God has abandoned him, that he is a greater force, like Jonah, Job and Jesus Aeron refuses to abandon his faith.

And I think this persistence is what will keep him alive.

I've always found it very fun and interesting that Euron never threatens to cut Aeron's tongue out.

When wondering why, the Theon-Ramsay answer would be that Euron likes to hear Aeron's pain, which makes sense given how Aeron is a more targeted victim of his compared to ex. Falia Flowers. But Euron very clearly intends to gain Aeron to his side. He knows of the power Aeron holds in his voice and speech, of his reputation as a holy and respected man among the Ironborn, and how much of a waste it would be to simply throw away that power. Remember Varys' "[Cersei] knows a tame wolf is of more use than a dead one"? An eloquent priest is of more use than a mute one.

But this also backfires on him because since Aeron's integrity can't be broken, he manages to keep defying him and even continues spreading the word of the Drowned God, even as he is in a situation of mortal peril.

And still, even if the end of The Forsaken is somewhat triumphal, I can't believe it.

Yes, he is strengthening his faith, this obviously is a victory over Euron, his persistence and loyalty, but how long will it last? Weirdly enough out of my five favourite POV characters, Aeron is the one whose death I'm convinced of the least (sadly), and whenever I try picturing him after managing to get away from the Silence I can't help but imagine there will be a change in his mindset and I don't know what form it will take.

“Even a priest may doubt. Even a prophet may know terror. Aeron Damphair reached within himself for his god and discovered only silence.” - The Drowned Man, AFFC

Maybe it is because the chances of getting to my 30s are very narrow, and in the mean time I am in physical and mental pain, that I find there is something very beautiful and empowering about showing that the horrors are not always meaningful, and that they are continuous. The horrors are trying to live before, during and after the horrors.

So anyway, the reason I brought up Nietzsche way earlier in this is because I don't think the suffering in characters like Aeron or Theon is of nihilistic nature and it baffles me when people pretend it is. This is not suffering for the sake of suffering because suffering is inevitable and pointless and blah blah blah blah misery porn blah blah blah trauma porn blah blah blah moral outrage blah blah blah. It is suffering, it is inevitable, it can be pointless, and it makes a huge point in the narrative and the characters lives! And it is important to me that we see characters go through these things; to see them lose, grieve and hate, to see them being imperfect examples of victimhood, even if their feelings on the matter will vary. Some might attach some personal value to their trauma and others won't and both should be allowed to exist in media without people pretending only one of those is valid.

Theon's suffering is something very rare and precious to me because it serves no greater purpose. It started before he even met Ramsay and hasn't known at end ever since. I don't consider it redemptive, it's not a justified karmic punishment either. It carries no ideology and it's not for the sake of others. There is no consolation for him or anyone else because of it. The blood will coagulate, dry and be washed away, the wounds will scar and heal, and he will gain weight and muscles back and none of his mental issues will be solved. The torture doesn't fix him.

And I think that his possible outlook on it will be very interesting to see in contrast with Aeron's and their respective religious journeys. Theon's religious awakening is different and still genuine. It is in servitude to another faith that would be looked down upon by Aeron, and whom even Theon himself denied back in ACOK, mockingly referring to them as trees.

"Tell me true, nephew. Do you pray to the wolf gods now?" Theon seldom prayed at all, but that was not something you confessed to a priest, even your father's own brother. "Ned Stark prayed to a tree. No, I care nothing for Stark's gods." "Good. Kneel." - Theon I, ACOK

And I can't imagine an Aeron who, after going through an event this world-shattering (being tied to the prow of a ship while living unspeakable horrors, being drugged by the person who sexually abused him as a child and has now confessed to killing their brothers, one of whom Aeron seemed fond of, being confronted with the victory of a self proclaimed god whom he despises, and starting to form his own connection with a former mean girl whom he would have spat on, now co-victim), would be as judgemental to his nephew's newly awoken beliefs, even if they differ, even if he keeps viewing his own calvary as something divine, even if to Theon the suffering will never be a positive.

With all this said, I will admit I long for some evolution in Aeron's faith as the story progresses. I am open to pretty much every ending, but I love the possibility of a rupture between him and the faith that has been sustaining him for so long. Perhaps not a full negation of his God, but some questioning of his religion. The unsettlement of the "God is Dead" sentiment crawling in the cracks of his doubt.

So, simply out of curiosity in case anyone actually managed to get here:

#speaking #asoiaf #aeron greyjoy #theon greyjoy #euron greyjoy #ramsay snow #falia flowers #jeyne poole #ok yeah fuck it I am posting it #I know nobody really cares about this stuff and sorry for clogging the tags but I had fun doing this and it's been on my drafts for #a month or so #christiangirlera #/sarcastic #whenever I see people complaining about [REDACTED] in Theon or Aeron's story I just think of that post complaining about lesbianism in rgu #“Oh I love this but this detail ruins it for me. It shouldn't have been there.” #and then that detail is one of the core themes in the premise that is fundamental for the development of the character #“mIsErY P0®n iS Vo¥eUr|sTiC” #well guess what? most fictive media is vo¥eur¡stic!

[mononijikayu]

chapter i.

chapter i. 

Rating: M

Warning: Language, Targaryen Incest, Depiction of Prostitution; Mentions of Childbirth; Depiction of Childbirth;

SUMMARY: In which, MELLARA TARGARYEN, has been cursed and blessed to live a life of loving a man like DAEMON TARGARYEN;

[it had been well known to all that the prince daemon targaryen was not one to ponder too long for those who cause him ire, but it was different when it was his lover, princess mellara targaryen. no bedfellows could match the woman he choose to love. such thought to love seemed foreign to those who observed the rogue prince, but others must be reassured, love grows in the strangest depths.]

 - maester aeron targaryen; adust

A D U S T   m a s t e r l i s t

< you and i burn together or we shall die trying >

chapter i  / chapter ii / chapter iii / chapter iv / chapter v

chapter vi / chapter vii / chapter viii / chapter ix / chapter x  

chapter xi / chapter xii / chapter xiii / chapter xiv / chapter xv 

chapter xvi / chapter xvii / chapter xviii

Mellara always thought of him with love and hate. The cold air of the evening winds hiked its way through her cloak, her long silver hair pleated tightly in fine silk ribbons, neatly decorating the small of her back. Fighting back a yawn, the sound of clanking metal paving through the pavement woke her, though with irritation. This had not been the way she envisioned her night. The young lady thought that her night would be spent dancing with vigor among the fine men at court, to the jolly singing of singers. A glass of Arbor gold was sliding down her throat, loosening her tongue into merry laughter. But alas, she is here.

It was not good for a high-born lady to be out in the streets, let alone in the Street of Silk on her own. The Street of Silk was a desolate place of idle pleasure, of desires and wants. Her mother would certainly not approve if she was to hear of this. But at this hour, her lady mother would be preoccupied with her conversation with the queen. After all, it had been months since they had last seen one another. Perhaps such an urgency had been on his mind too. The only time he had seen her had been at the royal service of the High Septon at the sept.

Nonetheless, she is hesitant to jeopardize her dignity and life in this situation. Mellara would not be in the streets, allowing her ears to be violated by the sound of clashing pavement and steel if it weren't for his beckoning, of her fondness for him.Maybe it was her irritable mood that worsened the sound in her ears. She had thought that he would come to her, as he promised in his note. Yet, with the way his mind worked, Mellara should have known better than to expect him to stick to what he had planned. Spontaneity kept his mind from boredom. He hated the thought of ever ending up with any essence of boredom.

So did she, if she was being honest.

Perhaps that is why she was going to him in the first place.

Even when she hated him, she still loved him.

When they had arrived, she was escorted within the confines of the establishment. Mellara halted, eyes darting back and forth between the soldiers accompanying her and the scene unfolding. She felt her body shiver at the sight of the bright candlelight beaming like wildfire from the louvered reflection. Fire did not scare her. Fire never scares dragons. It was something else that had made her uncomfortable. It was the sight of violent, drunk men, screaming to the top of their lungs as they urged the others to a wild chorus of fanfare. 

Cups continued to be poured by the women holding the silver pitcher. Mellara felt her hands close her cloak closer to her chest, eyeing the women dressed in thin, low-cut garbs of silk, pampered in wild flowers and bright colors. They were almost naked. Mellara could see their nipples etching the thin silks, almost like small mountain peaks. Mellara was not, in fact, a maiden with her virtue intact. Far from it. To be used to such sensual intimacy was one thing, but to be in a place was another.

Gulping, she led the way for the soldiers towards the steps going upwards. She knew he would be there, eagerly waiting for her. Daemon had not been a man of eager patience, Mellara knew. Out of spite, she found herself wondering if she should make him wait even more than before. Run away, to make him want her more. Chase her like any man had wanted to do before him. But Mellara had pursef her lips in disappointment once the doors

"You’re late." Those were his first words to her as she thrust herself through the thin space, rolling her eyes. "My, what attitude tonight."

Still wearing his untied red doublet, he sat with his black tunic hugging his lean figure. She could see his dark sister on an empty stool beside him. Abandoned on his bed was his glorious gold cloak, neatly pinned on the bed’s edge. Dark, dangerous, violent eyes pierced her own lilac ones, burning her passionately under the smell of embers turning into ash from the fireplace. He was pouring himself another drink, mindlessly pouring the goblet full and its contents falling onto the tablecloth. He didn't care for it, abandoning the pitcher in the corner of the table and drinking entirely his sweet joy.

"And pray tell, who is at fault in that?" She questioned him in return, throwing the hood backwards. "You with your ridiculous ideas. A pleasure manse? In the middle of the Street of Silk. Do you not care about my reputation? My mother would have my head!"

Snickering at her response, he adjusts his sitting position to gaze at her with intrigue. "A ridiculous idea it may be, but the action was taken by you. Your princess of a mother would not have mine."

She shook her head in frustrated, a pout curved at the edge of her lips. "You promised me that you would visit me yourself. You swore to me!"

"Plans do change, my love." His lips twitched in an amused smile. "The men wanted to have some time here, a request to celebrste their loyal service. They deserve it, my love. They had done well. As such, their reward."

"Oh, fuck you." She replied to him viciously, his eyes excited at the burning fire behind her eyes. "If you do this to me again, I will use Dark Sister to cut your heart open. Nay, I shall have your head as well."

Releasing an angry huff, she moved toward removing her cloak entirely. Before long, she could hear his boots rise from their quiet position and move towards her. As soon as her cloak had been abandoned to the ground, her waist felt a tight grip force her towards the warmth of his arms against her body. The already tight confines of her dark ruby dress covered in blackened damask and pearls felt even more constraining at his touch.

Trying to move away, Mellara resisted, but to no avail as Daemon Targaryen only pulled her closer to him. It was as if she melted at his touch. Mellara had always hated how easily she was enamored with him. In one moment, she was burning with anger at his requests, and as soon as he beholds her with the passion he only reserves for her, she becomes merely a dog that is eager for the affection of her master. 

Mellara Targaryen knew that this was not how she should be, especially not as a dignified princess such as herself. But it was hard not to be, when he had charmed her in such a way that no man could even compare. Mellara had settled her thoughts on the matter for years. There was no escape from it. There was no escape from Daemon.

"Are you sure about that?" He whispers brazenly in her ear, setting her ears ablaze with scarlet. "Little dragon, must you lie? Your ears speak clearly. "

"It is hot in here, that is what it is." It was a clear lie, but it had made him laugh. Mellara had always liked his laughter. It had been so long since she had heard it. Like those times before, it still made her heart pump with such life.

Laughing, he places a kiss on her shoulder. "Even your easy lies, I have yearned for them too."

She laughed softly, tickled. "Did you? I thought you had others besides me to entertain you."

He shook his head, leaning on her shoulder. "No. They are nothing to me. Nothing but a wiltering rose."

"Are you sure? I feel as though you are only trying to save me from a wound. " She says, leaning against her chest. "I know you, Daemon. You are not one to be eagerly satisfied with one round per night."

His fingers tangled in her moonshone hair; his face lifted from her side to smell her essence. A smug smile approaches his lips as he smells the coveted Volantine perfume he had specially purchased for her. They were often hard to procure, especially as many who used them in Volantis had to be within the inner walls of the city—those with Valyrian ancestry. At the same time, the cost had been astounding. One lord could surely look at the price and think differently.

But it was for her. His little dragon, Mellara, deserved nothing but the best. In the whole of Westeros, it was only her who beheld this scent. Daemon had made sure of it. Not even Mysaria had been granted such a gift from him. Each time he longed for her, the scent of endless sweet flowers brought her back into his mind. She too thinks the same, yearning for him each time she beholds the small vase for her to smell. This scent was a symbol of the truth they beheld only together.

"You have worn it?"

"Who else would I wear it for?" He hummed approvingly, his arms loosening from her and turning her. He wanted to stare at her, grasp the woman she had grown into in their time apart. "What?"

"You’ve grown even fairer since I last saw you." Daemon commented, his thumb brushing against her lips. Taking her hand on his own, the prince placed a small peck on the small of her soft fingers. "It makes me jealous."

She raises her brow in confusion. "Of whom, dearest cousin? Have you not claimed me so? "

"It makes me feel ill knowing undeserving men surround you at Blackhall." He tells her, venom echoing in his words, "I hear your mother is eagerly wishing for you to wed some bastard below your station."

It had been true. For many years, her mother, Lady Sarra Velaryon, had been much too worried about her status as an unmarried woman. At her age, it was expected that she would be a high lord’s wife or even her Velaryon cousin’s wife. But Mellara had, in all respects, declined marriage matches, eager to stay unmarried. None could truly force her. Everyone knew why. And no one spoke of it, not even the family. Cousin Viserys had let her be, as long as she held her silence and was discreet. Not too many would speak kindly of her choice in disposition.

That is why her mother may have been eager for her to find a husband. To save her reputation, should things escalate further between her and Daemon, then there would be an excuse. Despite her desperation, her daughter would not cooperate, and as such, there was no plan that could save her. This does not imply that Mellara's own lady mother would give up.Far from it, she concludes. But even then, she was sure she would not accept such a match. She wanted to keep her freedom, one where there was none to force her to make a decision. Unlike Daemon, Mellara had thought herself incapable of it. She was if anything too much like her father. Her princely father who did not care for any rules. It was Daemon she wanted in truth. Yet she would not have him, not lest the rules were bent for her to take him to marriage. She had doubt her kingly cousin would do such a thing. Not especially for his wayward brother, not especially for his cousin who denounces her role.

Though she had been sure that her suitors were all but refused, Daemon could not help but fail to lessen his distaste for these men. She could recall his blatant jealousy of cousin Borros years before, at a feast in Storm’s End. Had she not stopped him, maybe their cousin would have ended up naked and dead at the parapets of Storm’s End. Though she could change his mind with her carefully chosen words, not even she could stop the dragon from being one that seeks to get rid of his rivals. He would never allow anyone to take her from him. that they agree on. But she knew that one day there would have to be something of a compromise. One where she would let him know that he was the only man she loved, even if lords line through her home to wed her for her vast inheritance, for alliance and even for her dragon.

"Is that jealousy I hear?" She asked, a tone of teasing mixed in. "My, your grace, are you not married?"

He almost laughed wildly. "That bronze bitch, whom I do not love."

"Still, the wife you have. A good friend of mine, she is." She retorted back at him, rolling her eyes. removing herself from his gaze and taking a seat on his lonely bed. "Or do you forget? That you are still married to such a lady of great reknown.”

"No one shall bring us apart." Daemon determinedly declared, walking towards her and caging her body with his. Before long, her head rested upon the featherbed. "Nothing will break this. Not that bronze bitch,  any whore in this world, not even my brother or your mother. You belong to me. Only me."

"I know that fully well." She lets her lips fall into a smirk, positioning her body for his view. "And you, my prince of the city? Are you only mine?"

He returned her smirk, moving forward with his hands itching her legs closer. "Little dragon, I lay myself off onto yourself only. My heart is yours. My soul is yours. Only you own me, little dragon."

Mellara Targaryen knew that to be truth.

Daemon leaned forward, smiling against her lips.

Vigorously, she returned it with her own passion.

Rhaenyra Targaryen could not sleep by herself these days. There had been nights where she had found herself weeping into consciousness at the sight of her mother in mistful nightmares. Her sworn sword had hastily come to find her aunt for her, so that she may not be alone. Mellara was easy to wake, with the sound of anything faint beckoning her to life. Her lady in waiting, lady Jeyne Rowan beckoned her with the words of Rhaenyra’s need of her. Eagerly these moons, Mellara Targaryen had went to the bidding of her niece and her need for companionship. The moment she would open the door, each time, fresh tears had drapped the beautiful sorrows in her niece’s purple haze. Each moment, the daughter of prince Aelor knew that it should be Aemma beside her daughter now, holding her with all the warmth only a mother knows. Each moment she reminds herself of such a fact, her dragon blood boils aflame with anguish, with endless anger for what her niece had been robbed of. 

When she had been a girl, Mellara Targaryen had heard tales of her elder cousin Viserys when nuncle Baelon would visit Blackhall, at times it would be her father that would tell her the tales when he reluctantly attends to the bidding of royal authority. Viserys Targaryen was often described to be a jovial young man, with kindness in his heart and wits in his head. Peaceful of countenance, amiable in his desires. Her cousin had treated her kindly when she had first been presented at court and even still now with her dalliances with his younger brother Daemon had become a thorn on the throne’s side. 

‘Even then, when we had lost what we had so longed for, he did not judge us.’ Mellara had lamented. ‘He mourned with us. Now....’

The thought of that day still tears Mellara apart, with the bountiful storm of flame burning with nothing but grief. She could still not look Viserys in the face, nor even entertain herself any chance to speak with him. The sight of the red sea still hammers in her head, Aemma’s screaming as her mother fought against the maester’s steady hand and his sharpened tool. Mellara could recall how she had pushed people away. How she had done her best to rest against the touch of burtish armor and strong bosterous muscle. Mellara could remember her own screams, her own anger. Blacknight could be heard from afar doing the same, shaking against his tightened chains. She could taste the metallic violence in her mouth, bitterly showering her with horrors. Suddenly, there was nothing but silence, no one spoke. There had only been barbaric silence, horrified tears shed in silence. The babe did not even cry, even if he breathed. 

Mellara could feel her body shake, as she did then. Her resistance stopped and her shock pulsing through like the earth shaking to its core as she made her way to her beloved cousin’s side, her beautiful pale shine growing blue with cold. Her once warm body frozen in the winter of stolen time. She could not hear anything then, not even if she tried. It had all been such a haze, to face the reality of innocence being slaughtered by greed. There had been once or twice she had heard of how she had raised her hand against the king, unable to stop herself from growing mad with fury. Viserys did not stop her, not even when the kingsguard tried to intervene. Mellara was certain that she had felt his tears pierce her skin, but she hardly cared. Viserys Targaryen had departed away from the kindness that once she had adored in him and had become the monster that they all hated and feared. 

The princess did not find herself stopped until the familiar touch of Daemon’s brutish touch wrapped itself around her. He was still clad in his armor then, exhausted and bruised from his defeat and yet even in his unsavory hatred for defeat - he had put her first. When she rested her head against the crane of his shoulder, that was when the sound of her grief was heard. She wailed and she screamed, crying loudly with curses at her cousin as Daemon murmured that old Valyrian lullaby in her ear. The one he used to sing in her growing belly, in those nights where his smile shined as brightly as his dark purple eyes. Daemon had murmured till she calmed into a stupor. She did not remember much after. But Daemon had been there when she woke, comforting her the way she now did their young niece.

Mellara had all but moved herself in Rhaenyra’s chambers, sleeping in a bed that had been brought in just for her. At times, the princess dowager of Blackhall would tend to them both, breaking her fast with them in earnest. Yet this was not a regular occurance, for the princess dowager was tending to the realm that grew with absence of a grieving king and the leeches that were intent to warm his throne. The princess of Blackhall did not mind. Her mother was  the matriarch of their house, bound to her duty to keep this house burning bright with life. Even when it was plagued with death.

Mellara could not sleep much, not even dreamwine would help her. Daemon visited her often, hovering over her with worry. But she would not let him brush off his duty to the city guard to mother her. With each brutish kiss, there was endless reassurance in her part. In each touch, there was a hope for better days. In each climax of pleasure, there is yearning for this nightmare to end. But they both knew, that this nightmare would last for a long time. And they would have to dance around its tumultous beat.

When Rhaenyra woke from frightful dreams, the aunt stood quickly as she could and held her niece as much as she could for hours and hours on end. At times they watched in the weary quiet as the dimly lit sun rose against the sky. There were no need for words most days, not that Rhaenyra could find herself saying them without struggle. Yet those yearning for words to break this silence did not come, it did not need to. Mellara Targaryen understood the kindness this tranquil grief offered them. 

Rhaenyra lay her head upon the silk sewn sheets, the princess of Blackhall could only let her fingers brush lightly against her niece’s moonlit hair. Bitter tears were gifted by the dragon princess in the silence of dawn, yet there was no bitter anger anymore. Rhaenyra looked to her aunt softly, the soft somber smile echoing in her aunt’s lips genty comforted her. For a moment, Mellara Targaryen thought the gods were playing wicked tricks as she gazed at her niece. 

‘She could have grown this way,’ Mellara thinks to herself, her heart clenched sorrowfully. ‘I wonder if Daemon sees it too, when he looks at Rhaenyra.’

“Is anything the matter, aunt?” Rhaenyra asked, gently clutching her aunt’s hand. These were the first words she had spoken in days. 

Mellara shook her head, smiling. “I was just thinking when your nuncle would come and pay us his company.”

When the day dulled, Daemon did not come.

When the night came, Mellara could only worry.

The next day dawned, Viserys banished him to the Vale.

Mellara Targaryen didn't even blink as she let the arrow fly. Her mother fidgeted with her hands, warming the bare skin. It was not a cold day, not by any means. But her mother had been one to easily chilled as a youngster growing up at White Isle, near Dragonstone. The coal-colored garment was layered by luxurious fur and studded with finely marked silver dragons. A large cloak covered her back, fashioned of the finest Lysene woolen silk. It was obvious why her mother was there. Her eye sight caught sight of her eye's desperation, anxiously waiting for her to stop. Her mood had not been the best as of late. Not with the loss of her cousin Aemma at her young age. Not with the loss of her baby nephew at his birth. Not more so with the loss of her lover to exile.

In these few turns of weeks, There had been a rift that had been growing in the family. A shadow looms widely against the proud house that had once been so united by the wonders that blossomed in each interaction. Yet the halls had grown quiet. Feasts had been rejected for empty halls. Minstrals had been fortreited for mournful prayers at the royal sept. The vibrant colors of the cloth turned to endless black, a sorrowful black that eclipsed any wonder of it. Rather grief looms heavy, a burden and a duty. Mellara Targaryen had never been good at grief. Not even when her own princely father passed. For her such loss had been devastating, an endless repetition of sorrowful moments. False hopes for losing such pain. . 

But Mellara couldn't stop herself, not with a bow and arrow in her hand. Mellara Targaryen released one brief whistle as she jerked the string back with her might. It was almost as though she was preparing for combat, tugging so hard that it would eventually snap. The arrow was launched fiercely, its speed striking like a hammer and an anvil. Her mother was surprised, but she didn't show it. Elaena Velaryon was too proud to be afraid. No, not even when she was younger.

“I thought you would be happy.” Mellara says to her mother, moving towards the archery butt, her thick leather boots gracing the ground. “Daemon has been banished away. He can no longer corrupt me. Or as you say, make a lowlife off me.”

“I did not intend it this way, This is not the time, to air your anger and despair.” Her mother hissed back at her in a low voice. 

Mellara glared at her mother. “I am only but despair! Daemon is gone, Rhaenyra is in more despair, with that foolish oaf declaring his intention to wed her friend. Aemma is still gone. I am despair, mother. What may I do?”

“You must bury them,” Her mother hissed back at her, burning with as much flame as she. “Our house needs us, far more than it needs our burdens.”

“Mother-”

“Now that that rogue cousin of yours is gone, his kingly brother now becomes mad with grief. Being taken advantaged by opportunists like Hightower.” Elaena reminds her daughter, her lips in a tight line. “You remember the last time the Hightowers had coveted power through blood, do you not daughter?”

Mellara shook her head, taking another bow. “Of course I do, mother. But our cousin Viserys is mad with grief. No matter what we feel about him and his actions. Cousin Aemma was still his wife and their son perished withotu a chance. He will be mad with grief, as anyone can be.”

Elaena shook her head, her lips in a frown. “Aemma was like a daughter to me. I grieve her with all my heart. As you do, my heart burns with anger at her unjust death. Just as it had done with your aunt Daella.”

“Then why do you weep with such viseral fear?” Mellara questions her mother, frowning. “Our house is not so quickly trampled upon at this moment, surely?”

“Optimism will not save this house, daughter. We need strength and we need your cousin to bring it to us now. Only he can strike sense to his brother.” Elaena shrugs deeply, her hands going through her gown’s sleeves to warm her. “You must remember, daughter, that the blood of the dragon cannot mourn too long. Or we will lose. We will burn.”

Her lips flaked to the cold, her own memories of grief flooding her head for a moment. “Then we must act.”

Her mother nodded somberly. “That we must. I survived the loss of your father, as you have. As did your uncle Baelon with your aunt Alyssa. As did your grandfather with your grandmother. You must be strong. We have to be strong. Our house would not survive without strength, even in the hardest times.”

Mellara let her fingers fumble against the bowstring. “Then I shall hope you will deal with Viserys.”

“Someone has to.” Her mother nodded her head firmly. “He ought to be the king your grandfather was, to command respect. Wield his power like the king he is. The king he should be.”

“Or what?” She cocked a brow.

“Then the crows will feast at the corpse of this dying house.” Her mother declares sternly, her darkened eyes burning. “I cannot fail, you neither. Do well, daughter.”

“Such a responsibility.” Mellara mumbles under her breath. “Troublesome, even.”

“We have no choice.” Elaena commands her daughter. “No matter my feelings of your cousin, he is still the sword of this house. We need him. Tis his responsibility.”

Mellara cocked a brow. “And if I fail?”

“You shall not.” Elaena reassures her only child, placing a hand upon her own. “He will nto abandon you.”

“He is not a rogue for nothing, mother.”

Elaena squeezes her hand. “Then turn him to heel. If not then, you will return and we shall do what we always must.”

“And what is that?”

“Make the realm feel fire and blood.” Elaena declares, almost as though a promise. For a moment, Mellara felt as though her mother was more dragon than seahorse. “Do as I bid, daughter.”

Mellara lowers her arrow, the words of her father echoing in her head like a song of a mother at the cradle. The princess pursed her lips before nodding. “Very well. I shall go to him.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“There is only one place he will be, mother.” Her silver hair sprang through with soft bristling of the wind. Picking up her bow once again, she positioned the heavy figure of the arrow against the bow’s shadow. Mellara sighed, pulling the string with ease once more, letting it loose against the battering winds and into the bullseye. Mellara turned to her mother once more, a sigh upon her lips. 

“You will need Blacknight, will you not?”

Mellara nodded at her. “I shall go and get ready. Send a missive to the Dragonpit. Dragonstone requires my presence.”

Mellara kissed her mother’s cheek, bidding her farewell.

As she touched the scales of her mount, she took a deep breath.

“Sōvegon!” She commands, Blacknight roars as he soars high.

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x oc #house of the dragon #hotd #targaryen #house targaryen #house hightower #dragonstone

[chaosordoffl]

Some Valyrian/Targaryen/Velaryon names. No expertise here, simply following patterns to see what sounds and looks nice + canon sources and Valyrian dictionary plucks. In chrono & thought order.

Canon — Rhaenys, Rhaena, Rhaella, Rhaenyra, Rhaegel, Rhae, Rhaelle, Rhaegar (All Targ)

Derived — Rhaenion, Rhaenelle, Rhaenella, Rhaegor, Rhaegon, Aenyra, Rhaelion, Rhaenyx, Rhaelyx, Rhaenar, Rhaenyar, Rhaenel, Rhaelys, Rhaevel, Rhaevis, Rhaevys, Viserrhae, Rhaenya, Rhaenior, Rhaenor, Rhael, Rhaen, Rhaejel, Rhaeqan, Rhaellor, Rhaemon, Rhaemond, Rhaenyron, Rhaema

Canon — Aenar, Aegon, Aerys, Aelyx, Aerion, Aethan (1 Velaryon), Vaegon, Aenys, Aerea, Naerys, Aegor, Aelor, Aelora (Rest Targ)

Derived — Aegar, Aelon, Aelys, Aelar, Aelara, Aella, Aelinor, Aeral, Aeron, Aelion, Aegys, Aegal, Aelia, Naera, Naeron, Naerion, Naerelle, Naerella, Naerea, Aethal, Aethelle, Aethys, Aethion, Aethar, Aethial, Aenor, Aethor, Aerelle, Gaelyx, Aenyx, Aeryx, Baelyx, Aelial, Aeliar, Aelior, Vaegal, Vaegor, Vaegar, Vaelior, Vaelor, Aerial, Aeriel, Aelan, Aevys, Aevelle, Aevella, Haelyx, Haelian, Aenir, Haethan, Haelan, Haelor, Aekor

Canon — Gaemon (T), Daemion (T & V), Daemon (V & T), Aemon (T), Aemma (T [Andal?]), Vaemond (V), Aemond (T), Daeron (V later T)

Derived — Daemyra, Daemys, Daemyn, Daemelle, Daema, Gaemar, Daerelle, Daerion, Aemys, Aemar, Aemor, Aemir, Aemira, Aemara, Aemora, Daemor, Daemora, Vaemon, Gaema, Gaemond, Gaemyn, Gaemion, Aemion, Gaemor, Aemior, Aemyn, Aemin, Aerona, Aemona, Aemia, Aeman, Aemal, Aemelle, Gaemia, Aemol, Aemil, Aemila, Aemilon, Aemilor, Aeminor, Daemyron, Daeminor, Haemon, Naemon, Haemia, Naema, Haemal, Haemar, Naemior, Naemor

Canon — Daenys, Daenerys, Daella, Daenaera (1 V), Daena, Daenora (Rest T)

Derived — Daenyra, Daenar, Daenor, Daenelle, Daenal, Daen, Nerys, Naera, Daenir, Daenyx, Daeryx, Daerys, Daera, Daerya, Daenya, Daenyron, Daenorion, Norion, Daenyrion, Daenarion, Daenaeron, Daellar, Daelar, Daelon, Daelor, Daelan, Daelana, Daelanys, Daelenys, Daelyn, Aenaera

Canon — Maegon, Maegor, Maegelle, Maelor, Maekar (All T)

Derived — Maegar, Maela, Maelys, Maegys, Maegera, Maegara, Maegerys, Maegal, Maegyn, Maegan, Maekor, Maekaera, Maegaera, Maegaela, Maekion, Maelyra, Maegyra, Maelara, Maelar

Canon — Elaena (T), Valaena, Laena, Laenor (3 V), Helaena (T)

Derived — Laenys, Laenyra, Laenar, Laenelle, Helaenys, Elaenor, Elaenys, Laenion, Laenir, Laenyx, Elaenar, Laenora, Haena, Vaena, Alaena, Haela, Norys, Alaenys, Vaenys, Galaena

Canon — Visenya, Viserys, Viserra (T)

Derived — Viserya, Visenys, Senys, Saenys, Saenya, Saenar, Saenelle, Saenyelle, Saenyella, Serya, Serra, Serys, Saenir, Saenyx, Saenor, Viselya, Senial, Serial, Saerial, Visellan, Visarys

Canon — Baelon, Baela, Baelor, Balerion (Blackfyre), Valerion (Rest T)

Derived — Baelys, Baelar, Bael, Baelir, Alerion, Aleria, Aelir, Valeria, Valerys

Canon — Jaehaerys (T), Jacaerys (V), Lucerys (V), Jaehaera (T)

Derived — Lucerra, Lucerion, Jaehaerion, Jaerion, Lucerya, Jacaera, Jaena, Jaenelle, Jaecelle, Jaesir, Jaekar, Jaeron, Jaela, Jaelon, Jaelor, Jaerys, Haerys, Haera, Kael, Kaecion, Kaeciel, Kaecelle, Kaerys, Kaerion, Kaeriel, Lucarys, Jaeca, Nicerys, Nicaerys, Hecaerys, Nicerion, Hicaerys, Niceria, Nicae, Lucarya, Lucaenys, Lucaena, Nocorys

Canon — Lianna, Larissa (V [Andal? First Men?]), Alarra (FM [Massey]), Alyssa (V & T [Andal? FM?]), Alysanne (T)

Derived — Alysor, Lianys, Lianor, Sianna, Amanna, Alanna, Noranna, Narra, Nyssa, Anyssa, Alarya, Asenna, Norissa, Irenna, Orissa, Lysarra, Lisarra, Aranna

Canon — Valarr, Vaella (T)

Derived — Vaelys, Valarys, Alarys, Alarya, Valarya, Valarra, Vaellan

Canon — Gael, Saera, Shaera (T)

Derived — Saerys, Gaelys, Gaelor, Gaelon, Gaelion, Saerion, Shaerys, Shaerial, Shaerelle, Shaelle, Shael, Shaelys, Saevys, Shaerion, Gaela, Shaela

Canon — Corwyn (V [Andal?]), Corlys (V)

Derived — Corla, Corlia, Corlaenys, Cora, Corys, Corlenys, Corlea, Corlae, Corvan, Corvana, Corvys

Malentine

Rhogar(/Rogar?/Rogare? [FM? HV?])

Monford

Monterys (All V)

Derived — Terys, Teraea, Taeraea, Taerion, Monys, Monerys, Montys, Rhogel, Malentys, Malenta, Monterion, Monterra, Mona, Monae, Monarra, Malentina, Lentys, Lenta, Lenya, Taenys, Taena, Alentys, Malya, Malys, Malea, Malena, Malenna, Malaena, Amalla, Alenna, Marissa, Monassa, Monessa, Monerra, Mosarra, Malarra, Malenys, Amarys, Mantys, Malta, Maltys, Maltine, Maltina, Amalta, Amaltine, Alta, Altys, Altarra, Maltar, Maltarys, Marion, Maltior, Malerion, Mornys, Mortys, Morton, Omorr, Omon, Malenion, Malenior, Almys, Monissa, Montissa, Montessa, Omona, Omorra, Maltion, Malton, Almont, Almae, Maltorra, Torys, Garys, Garla, Galtys, Torrine, Tarine, Maltarine, Maltarra, Almerra, Almarra, Almorra, Alterra, Lamina, Monta, Monte, Montae, Taera, Taerine, Taerin, Taerys, Manta, Almina, Almine, Rhonal, Rhonior, Rhomys, Almar, Malar, Malarr, Malarys, Almarys, Maline, Rhomalt, Rhomion, Rhomior, Rhomia, Rhoma, Rhoton, Rhomine, Rhomal, Rhogal, Rhomina, Rhomon, Rhomar, Rhomorr, Almassa, Rhomys, Rhomyn, Torial, Malial, Rhovys, Rhowyn, Matarra, Atarra, Rhomond, Rhomorra

Matarys (T)

Derived — Matarya, Matara, Matys, Tarys, Tarya, Atara, Atarys, Tarial, Tarhael, Matarr

Canon — Orys, Borys, Orryn (Baratheon)

Derived — Orial, Ora, Orya, Orra, Borya, Boria, Boryl, Orelle, Orianne, Orael, Orrael, Orhael, Borion, Orion, Bora, Orian, Oryal, Oryas, Orias, Orios, Oryos, Rys, Ryssa, Ryssal, Orlisse, Rysla, Ryn, Rynel, Rynella, Boryn, Borryn, Rynal, Dorys, Orella, Dorella, Oryl, Orgillac, Orgyll, Borella, Borylla, Bolia, Bolas, Orlas, Ollyn, Olys, Olya, Orianna, Lorys

Canon — Maelys, Haegon, Aeryn, Calla, Rhalla, Shaena (Blackfyre)

Canon non-Westerosi Valyrians:

Jaenara Belaerys, Aurion

Canon Dragons:

Urrax, Terrax, Balerion, Vhagar, Meraxes, Vermithor, Caraxes, Meleys, Syrax, Vermax, Arrax, Tyraxes, Tessarion, Shrykos, Morghul, Viserion, Rhaegal

Unknown — Gaelithox?, Aegarax?

Original & HV Derived (some more suitable for dragons) — Aelsior, Qaelys, Qylys, Vhenys, Vhenya, Vhinyae, Vhanir, Vaenir, Vaenyx, Baelykos, Lykael, Lykaera, Raqael, Raqel, Raqys, Raqyssa, Raqissa, Raqar, Raqir, Raqor, Raqora, Raqior, Kionar, Malkion, Malkios, Vhaltir, Malkior, Vaedys, Vaedar, Elenys, Elenia, Elenar, Elenarys, Elenarya, Elenara, Kostys, Kostir, Kostior, Pelarys, Pelonia, Pelonys, Eledrae, Eledrys, Eledryn, Peria, Perza, Perzys, Zysa, Amisor, Amisa, Aexior/Aeksior, Aexion/Aeksion, Raenion, Raenior, Qana, Qanys, Qantys, Ebrior, Ebrion, Jelmys, Jelmarys, Jelmazys, Jelissa, Tessarys, Tessara, Tessarae, Dessan, Dessenae, Hārys, Tōmarr, Tōmarys, Tōmasyn, Tessarax, Syrion, Syriel, Jēdarys, Jēdaria

Possible High Valyrian roots for names:

Rhaen — to; meet, find, encounter, discover

Bael — to help, to aid, to assist

Jael — to want, to wish/to store, to house

Jaelarys — hope (possible name)

#I was just hoarding these for no reason and then I realised oh I have a reddit now #but then I also realised that I don't despise myself so I remembered I still have tumblr #look I even kept the “common” names :D #I just want folks to realize we got options 😭 #enough with throwing a bunch of consonants in the blender #let's respect the convention of AE #and -ys #and George might have had burnout when it came on to names but we're better off aren't we?! #yeah! #he got Rhaena from Rhaenys we can work with these We Have Options! #but yes as you can see I still had limits #house targaryen #house velaryon #house blackfyre #house baratheon #dragging them back to their roots by hook or crook >:( #it's bandoleros or nothing #therefore I guess it's only right to tag #house celtigar #FUCK didn't even show up in recommended tags this is so sad 😭 #valyrian names #sometimes I compare a name's pronunciation in Common vs High Valyrian and my head hurts #Syrax what's happening w u bb 😭 #is the y in Visenya a rounded vowel or actually an i *sleep-mussed contemplating Jungkook meme* #I'm good at names?? #that's crazy

[lndierokker]

Introducingg..!!

Basics

Name: Aeron

Age: 15 going on 16

Sexuality: Bi and Asexual

Pronouns: He/him

"I found blood and I saw stars..."

What I like!!

Music

The Cure

MGMT

Panic! At The Disco

Fall Out Boy

The Smashing Pumpkins

Muse

Sleeping With Sirens

Lorde

The Darkness

Say Anything

The Young Veins

Ween

Primus

Party Cannon

Goth music

Metal Music

Media

(Shows, Youtube stuff, Movies, Games etc. You get it)

BASEketball

Orgazmo

Cannibal! The Musical

Saw

Insidious

Jennifer's Body

American Psycho

T@gged

Invader Zim

South Park (and the games especially The Fractured But Whole)

EverymanHYBRID

Creepypasta

Dan and Phil

Johnnie Guilbert

Jake Webber

Tara Yummy

My Digital Escape/Our World Away

Jordan Sweeto

Markiplier

Jacksepticeye

Hamsumfella

JSchlatt

Sleep Deprived

Kurtis Conner

Danny Gonzalez

Gloomy Bear

"All in the backseat of your car..."

Have fun here, I'll try to post occasionally!!

#emo #scemo #scene kid #2000s scene #scene #2000s emo #emo kid #scene boy #emo boy #2000s #matt stone #trey parker #matt stone and trey parker #jordan sweeto #mgmt #panic at the disco #panic! at the disco #panicatthedisco #ryro #ryanross #ryan ross #nerd #nerdy emo boy #Spotify

[theonlyren]

Ryme City Corviknight

Affection can be hard to realize.

I can be a reserved, self-centered man. The ways I show love reflect how I’d like to receive it in kind: I like touch, I’m a hugger, I like good food, I like quietly being in the same room as you. If your love language is different than that, then the adjustment period for me to get used to that can be rough. For a blessing, most of my Pokemon partners share and revel in the ways I show affection. Vivi, my Sylveon is an incorrigible cuddle bug. Aka and Kati, my Gengar and Zoroark, respectively, are always content to hang out around me. My Lycanroc, Strider, loves pets.

And then there’s Jeanne.

Bird-Pokemon already operate on such a different wavelength than is standard for humans and even other Pokemon. I met most of my team, and they met me, in a pacifistic, harmless manner. I hatched Vivi from an egg, I met Aka at a trainer school under disguise, I pulled Kati from a cage and met Strider at a shelter.

Jeanne I met violently. Literally woke up one morning to her pecking incessantly at my window and the moment I opened it to try and shoo her away, she instead flew INTO my house and started pecking me. It wasn’t until I literally wrestled her out of the air, after getting covered in scratches, that she calmed down enough for me to even analyze her. After that she just refused to leave, so into a Pokeball she went, and I registered her as a partner.

Jeanne loves violence. She loves fighting and battle perhaps more than most Pokemon I’ve ever met. The first time I took her out to the wilds to train her, she straight up killed the Caterpie and Wurmple I had her fight, and started eating them on the spot. Cycle of nature and all that, I suppose, but it was still a shock, none of my other partners ever went for the kill like that. But that was quick and easy to understand. “Bird likes fights, got it, can do.”

That I was able to steadily provide for her battles, I think, was the major reason she latched onto me. Everything else about her is and always has been difficult. If I touch her wings I get pecked or scratched. The sweet foods and treats I normally feed my team, she rejects. I’m not kidding, this bird hates ice cream and cupcakes. If she’s in the same room as me, it’s so she can bother me for food or provoke a fight. Or she’ll stare.

She stares. She stares a lot, and if anyone that’s not my own team members approaches me, she’s liable to protest and even attack unless I quickly call her off.

Past all this though. I know she likes me.

She has to, right? She would’ve left me months ago if that wasn’t the case.

When she became a Corviknight, I was so excited. I was moments, days away from experiencing one of the highlights of many ace trainers’ careers. Flight. On the back of your own partner. Soaring through the skies to get to wherever you need to go. No traffic, no roads, unquestioned freedom. 

But Jeanne refused. And she did it in ways that baffled the experts and instructors. Normally when a bird is deemed unfit to bear a human, the signs are clear and obvious, they refuse the saddle or glider, they buck off the human, they protest loudly, they make it clear they don’t want to fly with humans.

Jeanne made nothing clear. She wore the saddle with no issue, and would even perch on a cab or a glider without issue. However she refused to move when a human got involved, and more specifically would roll to get me off of her, and she’d remain stone-faced the entire time. If she was saying no, it was in the most smug, quiet way possible. Not a “no” like “I do not want to carry you” and more a “no” like “earn it.”

None of the instructors in Ryme were able to parse this from my bird’s impeccable poker face. All signs pointed to her being willing and able to carry me, except for the fact that she wasn’t carrying me. None of the instructors could figure it out…

Except Aeron.

Aeron Instruction, who had a concerning list of poor reviews from former students who had either fallen off their birds or were just simply turned away.

Aeron took one, hard look at Jeanne and simply said “Yeah, she’ll fly you.”

I was baffled. Perplexed! The audacity of this man. I pressed him for more details, but he held off and insisted “business first.” So we scheduled it for this weekend, today, in fact, and he told me to do some bonding exercises with Jeanne.

Admittedly, his claim made me doubt my Corviknight, and what I thought would be the right bonding exercise instead led to a fight and a cracked rib. 

Jeanne left.

I’d never had a Pokemon leave me before. 

Let them roam? Sure. Go free range? Absolutely. Have we had moments I’m not proud of? Yes. But no one on my team has ever just… left. And it was my fault. I had an outburst. A moment of weakness. I think I broke her heart and she couldn’t deal with it. 

It’s there in the name, Corviknight. I was her ward, her liege, and I betrayed her. I wanted to go where it was dangerous and she thought I was too fragile, unprepared for the skies, not ready for that risk. She was protecting me from herself, and when I attacked her, her worst fear was realized, and we both languished.

It wasn’t until I spoke to Aeron that I realized why she was like that. I had the right idea, but the wrong execution. Corviknight do indeed respect bravery, having gall, but they’re also defenders, and way smarter than they let on. When she was born, here in Ryme, her instincts drove her to search for someone who could help her grow strong, to challenge them to realize her strength, and I just happened to catch her eye. She drove me up a wall as I trained her and watched her grow. Whatever she wanted, she took. Whatever she hated, she destroyed. She became a gorgeous, strong, indomitable Corviknight with my help, and for that, in her own way, she vowed to protect me. Always.

Even after I betrayed that trust, she held to that vow. I was wrong to challenge her directly, and never should have. I had to challenge her vow. She left me for three days, but also never really left. Aeron knew that, and he only had one way for me to prove it.

This is Jeanne.

She’s my Corviknight partner.

She’s not fond of hugs. She’s difficult, violent, and hard to read. She’s not the greatest at expressing her love, but that’s fine. I raised her well, and I love her.

And she’ll defend me with her life for it.

#pokemon #pkmn irl #unreality #pokemon irl #corviknight #rookidee #corvisquire #trust fall #collage #and falling art by realpokemon #3D render models by SwitchFirePlayz

[eribeen]

みなさんこんにちは 💙

Minna-san, Konnichiwa. Eribin here. Some calls me makobin, kobs, Eri, Kamiyacakes, Bin-chan. (Shout out to my exile tribe moots 😘)

ABOUT ME

▫️26 years old

▫️she/her/hers

▫️INFJ-T

▫️Filipino Jpop fangirl

▫️Multi-fandom

▫️Professional Procrastinator 💯

▫️frustrated writer (eme!)

▫️I’m not good at English. You might see a lot of grammatically and typo error here.

▫️ You can mainly see a lot of Rampe and Fanta’s content here.

(My two main oshi— Ohno Satoshi and Hasegawa Makoto)

MY WORKS

I often writes my thought and in my free time, I make short and one-shot stories, Fanfics mainly from my delusions.

MY THOUGHTS

TELL ME

That Idol

MY FANFIC

The Rampage's fiction

KazuHoku- Friendship is over

Zin Sakamoto- Childhood

Takahide Suzuki - The Pretender

Itsuki Fujiwara- My Galaxy

Riku Aoyama- Lipbalm

Kenta Kamiya- Almost

Other Fanfics

Leiya Seguchi- The Other Half

Weesa Saiki- Confession

Hiroomi Tosaka- His Whisper

POVs

POV- Dating Kenta Kamiya

POV- Dating Zin Sakamoto

BOYFRIEND TEXTS

Sawamoto Natsuki

LIKES

▫️old music

▫️love collecting notebooks, journal and pens

▫️color: purple, pink and sage green

▫️food: rice? 😆 anything tomato-based food.

▫️beverages: coffee and sour drinks

(My bias and bias wrecker in The Rampage— Makoto Hasegawa and Kenta Kamiya)

My LOVES

I’m a biggest fan of Japanese Groups and Boybands. From Janizu to Tribe.

▫️ARASHI - Ohno Satoshi

▫️THE RAMPAGE- Makoto Hasegawa & Kenta

▫️ FANTASTICS- Leiya Seguchi & SawaNatsu

▫️ BALLISTIK BOYZ- Masahiro Sunada & Ryuta

▫️ PSYCHIC FEVER- Weesa Saiki

▫️ GENERATION- Alan Shirahama

▫️ SANDAIME- Ryuji Imaichi

▫️ KAT-TUN- Jin Akinishi

▫️ HEY! SAY! JUMP- Kei Inoo

▫️ SEXY ZONE- Kento Nakajima

▫️ ONE OK ROCK- Taka Moriuchi

▫️ WOLF HOWL HARMONY- Suzuki Higa

▫️ THE JET BOY BANGERZ- Aeron/ Nosuke

And a lot more!!! If ever we share the same bias, hit my message up. We can be friends and be delusional over our oshis 😆

(My bias and bias wrecker in Fantastics— Leiya Seguchi and Sawamoto Natsuki)

#eribin #me #fangirl #love

[serenstars]

most recent screenshot from each of my currently active files......grins

#png #t: aeron #d: vesper #t: ceri #t: mag #d: calliope

[ariensoul]

[ 📲 • sms ] —— what are you doing?

text me bby — @fractisouls​

               [ text to : mom ] :  vesper says she has this crazy idea.                [ text to : mom ] :  which often means that i’m needed to talk her out of trouble.

#when in doubt‚ blame vesper #▌✤ ❝ some people got a dream that’s so much bigger than the town they’re in ⟨ aeron — modern ⟩ #▌✤ ❝ aeron ;; in character #fractisouls #fractisouls — lieve'tel t.

[sornasaur]

Happy Birthday Aeron~ Sorry I haven’t drawn you in forever xD

#personal #text post #fictional character birthday #march 31st #31/03 #03/31 #aeron zombeck #c h a r d o n n a y b o y t o y

[necromatador]

A list of my TTRPG OCs

Here's a bunch of them for reference if you ever want to send asks!

You can also find them with way more detail over on Toy.House!

Kesk Amanita (they/them) is a nonbinary minotaur cleric of the god of Plague & Outcasts. They survived a horrible magical disease with no known survivors at a very young age, losing their parents in the process, and were raised in the extremely remote mountaintop quarantine temple by the head of the religious order there, alongside his half-orc child Jukha. They are demi-romantic, asexual, intersex, and have vitiligo.

Reverence Trouble Malephar (he/him, yes the T does stand for Trouble) is an ex-mafia private eye. He is also a "paladin" of the same deity of Plague & Outcasts as Kesk, though they're from very different settings. I often use Trouble or Trubs to denote his younger mafia self from his older self, who I refer to as Reverence or Rev. He had a bad experience when he tried to skim money off his mafia grift and ended up getting his boyfriend and their team killed in front of him. He also had a girlfriend who disappeared after that and he finds out much later that he has twin kids with her: a daughter named Adventure and a (trans) son named Confidence. Reverence is cis, bi, and polyam.

Aeron Merla (he/him) is a Kenku Revenant and a rogue/warlock. He lived in the city of Avon's Keep and was a member of the local crime family (Cosa Corax) and the oldest of 14 kids. He was murdered by assassins from a rival group (Cosa Noctua). He was found and brought back by a creature called the Nachtraven, a generally malevolent fragment of the kenku deity The Raven Queen. He ran away from home to try and find a way to fix this because it's generally anathema to the worship of The Raven Queen to refuse death, but he still wants to live. He's kept alive by a small eye-parasite that the Nachtraven implanted in his slit throat. Aeron is cis and gay.

M'rai Scourgemaw (she/her) is a gnoll wild-soul barbarian. She was raised as a fighter to help out in the Three Scars War on behalf of a kingdom-state neighboring her homeland. She helped lead a group of trained mercenaries known as Blood Battalion, specializing in fighting magic-users. She was nearly killed by an immense major backlash in a fight and was left behind to heal by the Battalion. They never came back and the war finished while she was recovering, leading to her becoming her own merc and eventually getting arrested and thrown in jail. From there she escaped during a dragon attack, helped stop a coup that would restart the war, and discovered that she has a wellspring of raw wild magic within her now. Also she reconnected with the Battalion and her old flame, Amaranthe. M'rai is cis and gay.

Sidewinder (they/them & he/him) is a Yeremy Copperhead. The Yeremy are a culture of people indigenous to the continent of Ush'dvania, the home of the ancient Witch Kings. Yeremy wear masks to hide their true selves from strangers, so Sidewinder is almost never seen without his mask when around other people. Copperheads are alchemist-assassins and masters of poison and shadows. Sidewinder grew up wandering from place to place helping their mother with spirit-work and healing. They grew fascinated with magic and poisons and eventually moved to Ironwood, a small town on the frontier of the wastes, to set up a home and attract the attention of the Copperheads to earn the right to request membership. He has since: raided the secret warehouses of the powerful Havlan Trading Company at least 3 times, destroyed the entire Strychnine Syndicate's presence in Ironwood, unleashed a still-living Witch King, made friends, started dating the town deputy, and stuck his originally-normal arm in so much magic that eventually it had to be fully rebuilt.

Otylia Byalas (she/her & they/them) is a Trau Stitcher. The Trau are the fourth indigenous group from Ush'dvania and the only one that doesn't wear masks as a cultural practice. Or at least not physical masks; they culturally respond "I am but a humble [x]" to any particularly probing questions. Otylia and her fathers used to be just as nomadic as Sidewinder and his mother, and the two groups ran into each other fairly often on their travels, becoming friends. Otylia and Sidewinder dated briefly as teens, before deciding to remain as friends only. Otylia moved to a major city to attend medical school, and while there ran into trouble after turning to a life as a resurrectionist in order to properly gain experience. She fled to Ironwood and took up an apprenticeship under Doc Huxelby, becoming the medic on Sidewinder's team and helping him out with a little magi-medical problem as well.

Ori'Xiros

Exul & Velata

Telthe Baid

Hide of the Beast

Rok Merla

Kol Fizzleblast

Redemption Crosslaw

Theodosia Sylvaine

Chesslin Ken'ana

Salakesh Marivaldi

MORE COMING SOON!

#my characters #original characters #ttrpg characters

[gwynbleiddyn]

all the cool kids have pinned posts and i’m at least a year late so let’s go

about

aeron

he/him

raging homo and i will simply Not tolerate masc negativity here y’all went too far with that

dw i’n gymro, a dw i’n dysgu cymraeg 

old enough to have a full time job with office besties so make of that what you will

i cosplay sometimes, i rarely share photos but if i do it’s #aj cosplays

i play dnd a lot and not necessarily in any kind of logical order

to that point i also DM a game in a very similar manner

blog content

bg3 / i said i wasnt going to get involved and then i did. i rotate astarion around my brain like a microwave meal and i think we should be allowed to kiss raphael actually. dyn is my main tav who is in a mlm (monster loving monster) relationship with astarion and sometimes halsin. the rituals are complex and unknowable.

critrole / im a c3 ho and im not interested in reading your meta on why caleb is autistic actually bc ive decided he is anyway and that’s enough for me thank u

destiny / dont get it twisted i play this game for saint-14 only

ac origins -  valhalla / bayek and eivor have me in a chokehold and i spent about 6 months writing frenzied alexios / thaletas content in between those two protags so you could say i enjoyed this trilogy more than anything else ac has ever given me

dragon age - mass effect / they get to share a category like a get-along t-shirt bc these are the only two braincells in my head that will survive a nuclear winter and this is the only way i can control them. i have many ocs. i always want to talk about them. i sent shepard to andromeda, and i rewrote thedas to cope with the harrowing ordeal of facing an egg as my villain. bioware will not let me rest.

ocs - dnd / i play in 2 campaigns, i dm one of my own. blorbo from my dnd is usually referring to maahes, he is an acquired taste so your mileage may vary in how far u can go before u simply want to block his tag. the good news is i wholly support curated dashboard experiences. the bad news is all of my ocs are equally hot messes of morality.

worldbuilding / you may see mentions of myridos; this is my homebrew world and eventual setting for some novels that i’d like to publish one day.

im not above shitposts or random stuff that makes me go hehe (fruity) and i generally do not engage in tumblr activism as a rule. you’re unlikely to find Real World Stuff˜ here unless it involves cymru or annibynaeth i gymru. i tag fandoms and art, i do not tag specific characters with enough consistency to make it safe for blocked tags. i’m open to dms/asks if you want a specific tag blocked - i can’t guarantee i’ll say yes, but i’m v nice about it i promise.

mini tag + link directory 

my doodle tag / my writing tag 

archive of our own

cosplay instagram

#pinned