#king aaron

[alolanrain]

Au hour? Au hour.

Little prince! Au where Ash’s father is the only king left standing in Kanto, and one of the few remaining kingdoms like Rota and the Azoth kingdom in the world.

Ash is the prince and heir to the throne of Ikklas’a Kingdom but unlike the other princesses and princes Ash is treated much differently. His mom and dad split up when he was just three weeks old bevause Delia couldn’t deal with the stress of being queen on top of taking care of a baby, she also didn’t like the thought of nurses and ladies in waiting taking care of her son at all, so she approached her husband with the attention of an easy divorce.

Aaron was kind and gentle because he still loves Delia and though it would put a strain on their relationship as a whole and their new born son he agreed to the divorce. They settled with Delia raising Ash for most of the year and the summer months Aaron got parental rights over Ash. This allows Ash to experience a normal life and also one of a Prince for short stints of time. This also doesn’t stop Aaron for singing Ash up for tutors though much to Ash’s charging when he gets older. Aaron is his father and even though he would burn Pallet Town to the ground he would much rather not start another century long war his great-great-great-grandfather finished. 

Ash grows up knowing not to mention that he’s a prince, much to his hate especially when Gary starts to bully him, to other people outside of Ikklas’a and to only do so in very dire emergency. Only a few people outside of the kingdom know such as Delia and Lance along with his elite four in Kanto.

King Aaron is kind of his own “champion” for his people in a sense. They play mostly by Lance’s rules and make sure not to step on to many toes but this also means that no laws shall pass unless Aaron looks them over for himself. It’s a give and take kind of relationship between the two governments.

Like Rota and Azoth any trainer or other kinds of people like visitors and merchants are allowed and warmly welcomed in the kingdom. They hold contests and lots of festively because the king and the court love their rich history in story telling, foods, and crafts. Even though their actual history is filled with many wars. Aaron wants to make sure that all people in his kingdom feels safe and loved and that people that are being mistreated and swindled stay down to an extremely low number as much as Aaron can make it.

Like normal kingdom stuff there’s trade routes and kingdom meetings that are held with the other queens and kings of the world. Sometimes a few champions or other league delegates come and join them from their respective regions to make sure that their give and take relationship stays the same across the board and thet their not being to oppressive and that the kingdoms won’t start another war. This means that Ash sometimes, though rarely, gets brought to these gatherings with his dad. He is the future king after all and if Ash doesn’t want to be king it’s still a nice thing to learn.

Ash has met Rota’s Queen Ilene and some other princes and princesses like princesses Kimia. She was nice even though she liked scaring Ash and pulling on his hair because it was apparently “super-super-extremely-out-of-this-world soft” which made Ash hide because his papa’s legs.

As Ash grows up and Aaron’s love ten folds every second for him that doesn’t stop from Aaron wanting Ash to experience his own life. So he has a deep conversation with Ash about how he wants his son to go on as many adventures that he wants and to experience the world as a whole and every wonderful, and not so wonderful, thing about it. Aaron never had his own chance to go and have his own journey when he was a kid since his own father was much more strict so he’ll live through Ash but by bit with every letter he sends back home to the castle explaining his journey.

Aaron just wants expecting his sweet Érzi to send an actual, and verified by his advisor and head general, Ho Oh feather in Ash’s first letter and then get explained a year later that his son is Arceus’s Chosen One.

[exploring-in-space]

New Aaron Icon 😊😊😊

[wycombewanderer]

aaron dingle is so expressive, i just watch his face whenever he’s on screen. giggly aaron is definitely my fave, can emmerdale just keep him happy all the time.

[goldmynetv]

King Aaron – Chocolate ft. Peruzzi Upcoming Nigerian artist, King Aaron debuts a new song tagged, 'Chocolate' featuring DMW Singer, 

[zugen]

King Aaron – “Chocolate” ft. Peruzzi

King Aaron is here with the headlining single “CHOCOLATE” featuring Peruzzi, Produced by Boombeatzmusiq.

Listen and Enjoy!!!

DOWNLOAD MUSIC

View On WordPress

[3horses-blog]

Gods were made to rule and now, as he stares at the window covered in silk, he realizes that may have been what kept him from the title.

He adorned himself in the robes of a king as he had for centuries the title. To him, at least, the reason of being a deity came from the power in one’s veins, the lineage of their ancestry, and the lucidity of their power. The title, derived from him as a youth and coating himself when his tongue had lapped at the words, is now something not spoken on his numbing lips. An excoriation from the mind is all he needs to find emptiness in the word.

It tastes like a depression and acts like a depression. He may hate himself enough to destroy his being but cannot find it in his heart to take out the kingdom now laced around his neck like that of fine jewelry yet a hangman’s noose. He does not have the gall or indignity to take it down with him.

There is a crown in a corner. It is a singular crown with gems and tiny engravings which sits, all by its lonesome, on a desk in a corner to jeer at his inabilities.

He cannot deny them the power which they had practically thrusted into his hands. He cannot tell them no after they had nearly worshipped him. Where he had hated himself for centuries, thrusting the name “god” onto his title, it had been in the early hours of his reign that he had at last felt befitting of this title. A god is to be praised and worshipped. A god is to lead.

Their cheers have dwindled completely out though even the hollow chants are more knives now then  they stroke an ego so bridled with both disgust for himself and seering pride. They cut into his heart, pull at his veins and slash his arteries until he is bleeding gold, sanity, and pride into their hands which await so assuredly.

Arion is not a leader; his job since his very birth has been based on the very skill of following a true master.

But how does he tell them this? It is a secret tucked away into the chest of his ribcage with his expanding lungs and beating heart. It is a secret that has been swallowed from the brain and into the cavity of importance where now and then his chest throbs with pain from such a secret. Wizards and witches are the devil’s work and albeit he may truly have bloodlines to the heavens, he does not know if he can prove this or should. Would a kingdom then lose hope as they realize a useless king is in fact divine?

The unbridled mess of his hair reflects the nights spent relentlessly turning, craving the undying kiss of the earth to hooves versus its shallow acknowledgement of a man’s feet to its crust. He has not dragged himself out of his room despite the many figures who, with utmost prudence, had barged into his room and repeated basically the same idea that “a kingdom needs him.”

Yet Arion does not know how a being like he, a powerful king and a beast (god a term now disgusting) which could strike the land down in seconds, can tread without the crunch of the kingdom’s citizens bones reminding him of all the troubles he has caused.

So now, like a bird deprived of the sky, a horse deprived of its field, and a wolf deprived of the hunt, his blue eyes (a dull blue now framed by bags of fatigue as if the pallor of death was beginning to creep upon him) stare absently out the window at the jesting and jousting below. Melancholy drear hovers in a thick air over the room versus the energy and happy-go-luckiness of the festival in the courtyard below. Someone is bound to fetch him, but for the moment, he honestly does not care.

It is instead the sport that takes place which catches his eye.

A black steed as dark as the night and as muscled as they come is mounted by a knight in equally as dark armor. There is something about them, an exotic flare to his costume which tells him he is not from the land though he partakes in their sports. What fascinates him so truly and sends the bitter stake of jealousy into his heart is how the master knows the horse and how the equine knows the rider. They mount, connecting as one being, before thrusting the lance at the other competition and sends the other knight flying with such grace he wonders if that is what he looks like when he gallops away on all fours.

He sits, fascinated not by the myriad of competitors but by the single team of man and steed, where he is found as a servant enters unsurely.

“King Aaron?” she tenderly prods as if walking on thin ice but there is worry in her tone at the statue staring out the window, “t-they need you today. We  washed clothes and-”

“Okay,” he offers quietly, almost inaudibly, “fetch them for me, will you?”

It is the first time he has spoken in two weeks and it is the first time in three he has even shown interest in leaving his room.

And that is where Arion met him.