[𝐼]NDEPENDENT, PRIVATE + SEL. daeron targaryen, also known as daeron the drunken, the prince of dragonstone, and the prince of summerhall from a knight of the seven kingdoms, with mixed influence from the book and the show, as well as personal headcanon and interpretation. BROUGHT TO YOU by jj, they/them, twenty5, southeast asian, eastern standard timezone. rules found below the read more, minors and personals do not interact.
basic rp etiquette applies, minus reblog karma. i don't mind if you rb from me or the source. please only interact with my posts if we are mutuals. i will not write with any muns that are under the age of 21.
eternally sporadic activity, characterized by bouts of inspiration. my mind is constantly bouncing somewhere, but in no way does it indicate a lack of interest for threads and connections. it's just how i work! i also work full-time and am mostly active on weekdays.
no zionists, antisemites, transphobes, islamaphobes, racists, nazis, fetishizers— the list will go on and on. just don't be gross. no vagueposting either. call real shit out or handle it yourself. str/nger things or h/rry potter muses, even if 'removed from canon' never interact, you will be blocked. i will also not follow back mcu-based blogs + vivziepop media.
this blog will feature mature content, specifically in terms of nsfw, substance use, self harm, mental illness, and more. all will be tagged as 'trigger tw'.
no targcest, thank you!
i softblock liberally and in no way is it personal. i will only hardblock if i am sure that i do not have any desire to interact or if you fall under the dni criteria listed above. please hardblock me if you do not / no longer wish to interact so i know it wasn't accidental and won't continue to re-follow, as i'm very forgetful about that!
open to plotting via ims or disc, but the primary way to kickstart interactions is via memes. i tend to be very slow with getting back to people and prefer to just write! please feel free to send memes of any kind, even if it's testing the waters of antagonistic or romantic.
hi everyone ! so, i hate to do this because the world has gone to shit and life is difficult for everyone atm, pls trust me when i say i really don't enjoy asking this of any of you. unfortunately i'm really broke right now and i can't afford my medicine. it's only roughly a tenner to buy but i also have to eat & travel. the job market is terrible as im sure you all know, and i literally don't even have the money to take the bus to any of my upcoming interviews so i've been loaning cash off my flatmates which is so jarring & not sustainable or fair to them. anyway, a long time without my meds means i have a higher risk of developing osteoporosis, which is essentially bone thinning. it also makes my insomnia way worse, with side effects of not taking my medicine for a long time being joint stiffness / joint pain which has already affected me significantly unfortunately. this has made taking care of my upcoming uni assignments way more difficult.
because of this, i'll be opening up commissions. some examples of my work can be found here along w prices. dm me if you're interested at all so i can provide you with more info about comms <3
my paypal is here for anyone feeling generous & it's also how i'll be taking payments. thank you for reading & reblogs would be really appreciated
i'm still here</3 my boss got fired so it brought a 3 person team down to 2 so i've just been rotting after work but hopefully the brain power comes back
" don’t look at me like that. i don’t want your pity. "
blood & bruises.
“ you think yourself pitiable ? ” aerion's head cocks to the side in an animalistic gesture, gazing down at where his elder brother is slumped, the bedsheets and pillows scattered across the floor. in the darkness of the bedroom, the combination of pale hair, pale eyes, pale skin, paints the princeling as an unpleasant phantom before his brother.
he toes an overturned goblet with his boot, something akin to disgust curling his lip. there was a time when he would look up at daeron instead of down, eager for his attention, his recognition. it had fueled him then. perhaps, in some small ways, it still fueled him now. but they had both become very different creatures, and the past was a lifetime ago. this room, for one, had seen many a better day. it wasn't like to see another.
slowly, aerion lowers himself into a crouch before daeron, slender fingers reaching out to brush strawberry stands of hair back from his eyes. his thumb wipes something from the other's chin ( dried drool, remnants of wine, who was to say )
the gesture may very well have been gentle, were it coming from anyone else but him.
“ you make it far too easy to win his favour, lēkia. ”
a gaze of his own was unnecessary, at this point in time, for daeron could feel it— whether that be projection, the outward manifestation of his own wretched inner scruples, or truth, was hardly a needed discernment, at this point. it simply was. the nature of being, daeron the drunken uttered far more than his gods given name, as if his own impropriety provided enough fodder to have him ousted from the house itself.
" perhaps, " he all but groaned out, head positioned against the backrest of rickety, sun-bleached wood, employing its frame to support a skull far too heavy for his own spine to carry. daeron wanted to reel, steer himself away from a touch that hardly verged on care, despite the feigned softness from optics alone. in days past, it would reveal itself as such tenderness — not the dragon, aerion, but the boy, his brother.
a gruff noise, spluttered out and nearly as unseemly as his own condition, all of his own doing. the knight — a sorry one at that, favoring chalice over broadsword — recoiled, turning away from the frigidity of fingertips, rough-skinned and worn from combat, scaling atop skin as a dragon.
" nyke gīmīs skoros ao ūndegon daor, " i know not what you speak of— his tongue elementary in comparison, for the blood of the dragon ran diluted with ale and oil. " you speak to me as if you are the elder, valonqar. i need not entertain your riddles. speak plainly; my head aches far too much for you to do otherwise. "
MY TONGUE, THE DAGGER AT YOUR JUGULAR. MY LOVE, THE SWORD AT YOUR BOSOM.
#WISTREA : an independent blog for " LADY KIRA OF SERAULT, THE YRONWOOD WITCH, THE TEMPTRESS, THE BASTARD OF STONE WAY ", an original character written into the lore of a song of ice and fire, by aria.
revenant (rev · e · nant). n. from the french revenir, "to return". one who returns, from either a long absence or from the dead.
vannaspar kemetil niorun, war cleric and conduit of the divine. independent original character. a tale of faith and death, goodness as a practice &. what that means as a vessel for entities of war.
writing and prompts reblogged on here #soon i'm just forcing myself to get his info up for once before i start interacts so i can rly have plots and nice connections but :3 i am so excited to be here i have not stopped thinking about daeron
also sorry for the spam but this aemon quote will always fucking kill me
I cannot help but wonder what will follow, when the last warmth leaves my body. Will I feast forever in the Father's golden hall as the septons say? Will I talk with Egg again, find Daeron whole and happy, hear my sisters singing to their children?
maekar saying that daeron would sooner ride a whore than a horse is so funny i can't stop thinking about just how disappointed he was not only at ashford but just thinking about daeron's knighthood in general........... anyone would've been a better squire and knight but, alas, maekar will forever be stuck with his heir
