before I dive into finals and prepping for grad this weekend, y’all should check out Alex Rowland’s Fantasy Romans book! It’s written in the style of an academic text from a scholar responding to a new monumental discovery within the world regarding the Lausians (Fantasy Romans)! Its kickstarter launches today at 3 PM CST! Also, the merch for the book is so so neat! Go check it out with the link below!!
A new fantasy novel by Alexandra Rowland, author of A TASTE OF GOLD AND IRON, RUNNING CLOSE TO THE WIND, & YIELD UNDER GREAT PERSUASION
It's International Non-Binary People's Day. I have written two contemporary romcoms with nb main characters. Allies are actually required to buy these books today. Sorry, allies, I know the rules are tough 🫤
Daeron Targaryen x PIRATE OC, Daeron Targaryen x Nonbinary OC
TAGLIST AND ASK BOX ARE OPEN!
This story is made without the use of Al. I do not consent to having my story put into any ai generative software, to be translated or posted without my express permission. I do not claim to own the source material this story is based upon.
Read on AO3
https://archiveofourown.org/works/84862691
Warnings: Depictions of drowning, slight misgendering, alcoholism, suicidal ideation
Summary: Daeron Targaryen is a total mess (So is his family). His father thinks that going on a sea voyage without alcohol to investigate rumours about Aerion in Lys will help Daeron’s problems. He’s very wrong. After a storm hits and his ship is shipwrecked, Daeron finds himself taken in by a gang of pirates and their captain. As the pirates take him to Dragonstone, Daeron finds himself growing more and more fascinated with the mysterious captain of the ship.
Georgiana Tully did not intend to become a privateer, let alone a captain, but a privateer they have become nonetheless. It’s just unfortunate that they accidentally rescued their former fiancé, who does not recognize them at all. How on earth will Gi manage to transport the drunken prince safely to Dragonstone with their secrets and heart intact?
Chapter One
The dreams did not always have dragons, but some of the worst ones did. The ones he couldn't predict, the ones that fortold the deaths of his loved ones. He'd dreamt of a dragon lying on top of Ser Duncan the Tall in the months before the tourney at Ashford, and that had come true. His Uncle Baelor had been killed in a trial of seven.
The dragon in this dream was drowning, falling into a mysterious, dark liquid. Had it been water, ink or alcohol, Daeron could not say. It just was what it was. The liquid filled the dragon's mouth and nose, causing steam to rise up from the waves. The dragon was dying, would die soon. Was this about himself?
~
He had been on a boat… there had been a storm. Daeron remembered putting on his clothing and sliding what valuables he had into his clothing after the ship's steward told him what had occurred. He'd strapped his dagger around his waist. Around him had been chaos. Waves and sheets of water pelted the deck while the wind howled around him. Lifeboats had been sent into the water, but had been quickly dashed upon the rocks. How would he get out?
He searched and searched until he found an empty cask in the captain's quarters. So that was where they'd hidden the wine… well too late now. And it looked like none was left for Daeron. He remembered finding a rope and tying it around the cask, standing on the boat's stern as it slipped into the waves below. He'd gripped onto the cask, hoping against hope that he'd live, that maybe his stupid plan would work. Daeron held on, when the water sucked him down. Water filled his mouth and stung his eyes. Blindly, Daeron kicked his legs, managing to get his boots off in the process. He kicked and kicked, not knowing if he was sinking or rising through the waves. But somehow… he made it to the surface. However he didn't have much time to get away from the wreck site with his cask before something, maybe a bit of mast or some other piece of wreckage hit Daeron on the back of the head.
Now he was dreaming.
~
The dragon had struggled, tried to escape, but its wings were too wet. It's beautiful wings were being dragged down, like they'd been dipped in tar. Perhaps that is what the mysterious liquid was. Perhaps the dragon would drown and nobody would know, just like Daeron.
But something came out from underneath the struggling dragon. A fish, with scales the colour of the rainbow, shining in the dim light. The fish had something in its mouth, which it dropped onto the Dragon's partly submerged wing. A finger bone.
The fish slipped back beneath the water, while the finger bone remained. The dragon just looked over, as if nothing fascinating had happened, because it had resigned itself to its fate. The bone did not care for the dragon's attention. It shook and began to multiply.
One bone became two, three, then many more. The bones held together by some magnetic force, becoming a skeletal hand.
~
Daeron woke up to the gritty taste of salt and ash in his mouth. He was wet, that was certain, as he opened his bleary eyes he saw the chaos around him. He was holding onto an empty wine cask, his body submerged in deep water. How Daeron managed to hold on while unconscious, he did not know, but somehow he did.
'Thank the seven,' he thought, though Daeron wasn't really very religious.
Around him laid the detritus and debris of the ship he had been travelling on, The Tempest, an ironic name considering how it was a storm that caused the wreck in the first place. And Daeron wouldn't have even been on the cursèd ship, if it wasn't for his damn brother's mistakes. Maekar had sent Daeron to visit Aerion in Lys, having heard some troubling rumours about Aerion falling in with a group of mercenaries. Ever the worried father, Maekar had sent Daeron to prove the rumours wrong, though perhaps it was Maekar's way of sobering Daeron up. What could be more curing to Targaryen madness than an endless sea voyage without alcohol, travelling towards a land of vice. Clearly, Maekar had high hopes that travel would knock some sense into both of his sons.
'How wrong he was,' thought Daeron derisively.
The storm had subsided so that was a real at least, but Daeron realized he would soon need to find dry land, food and preferably something to drink. The empty wine cask he was clinging to taunted him with the smell of a sweet arbour vintage on the sea air.
"Lovely," he muttered sarcastically, his voice raspy from dehydration and the salty air, "I guess my version of hell is to constantly be near temptation, only to have it ripped from me."
Daeron didn't know why he was talking. There was nobody to hear him except for corpses and gulls. Parts of the ship floated by him aimlessly, some beginning to sink into the waves. Perhaps Daeron would join them soon, at least it would provide a permanent rest from the dreams. If he would only just let go of the cask… but then what about his siblings? His family? Would they spend the rest of their lives wondering where he was? Would they mourn him for who he was or who he could've been? Would Aerion be pulled back from Lys, now that he was the heir to Summerhall?
So many questions. The thing is, Daeron wanted to live as much as he didn't want to dream, which was a lot. But what chance would he have? Daeron could swim a little, having learnt in the lake at Summerhall, but how long would he last in the waters before exhaustion, hunger or thirst took him. Not long, he calculated. Gods he wished he'd been drunk before jumping into the water. At least then he would be a little warmer. His dragon blood only did so much when he was fully soaked from head to toe.
For hours, Daeron drifted along, his hands grew numb from clutching the cask, but he couldn't let go. Something made him want to hold on, if only just to have one last drink. The sky looked so calm and clear, the sea now gentle compared to the choppiness of the night's storm; it would be so easy to drift away in that calm. But the fates had other ideas for Daeron.
In the distance, Daeron could hear the sound of wood crashing against wood, the flap of sails and the shouts of men. He kicked his feet in the water so that he could look around. Behind him, in the near distance, Daeron could see a ship. It was sleek and small compared to the ones royalty normally used, but it was a ship, and Daeron was determined to get on it. He tried moving his left hand to wave at the ship, but after hours of clinging to the barrel, his arm was stiff. It was no use. Unless Daeron rested, his arms would be of no help to him.
'Shouting might do it,' he thought, 'but my voice may be dry from not speaking.'
"Help!" He cried out, his voice cracking from the effort. He tried to clear his throat to make it easier to speak but it was too dry, "Help!"
He kept shouting out, hoping they heard him, and eventually, Daeron could see a small skiff being lowered into the water. He wasn't sure if they were coming towards him, but Daeron hoped they would. He would make them notice him.
"Over here!" He cried, his voice wavering with the effort, "I am alive!"
Daeron could see a few heads on the skiff turn towards him, one man pointing towards Daeron's cask.
"Yes. Please. Notice me." Daeron begged, his voice a half whisper.
The skiff slid through the water smoothly and swiftly, the men's oars moving in unison before coming up to Daeron. At the head of the ship was a person with the most beautiful head of curly russet hair Daeron had ever seen, their features androgynous and ethereal. Perhaps it was the dehydration, but Daeron felt like he'd seen this person before. Somewhere….
The red head reached out to take Daeron's hand when the skiff got within his reach.
"My arms are too stiff to move, I've been here for hours."
The redhead nodded, standing up and stabilizing themself before they started pulling off their jacket, vest, belt and boots.
"What are you doing?" Asked Daeron.
"Coming to get you." Declared the redhead as they slid into the water. Daeron was struck by their voice. Not quite masculine, but deep and husky. It was an attractive voice, Daeron thought.
Gods, the dehydration was getting to him.
The redhead swam towards Daeron, their swimming polished and clean as they came up to the cask, resting their hand on it as they began to tread water.
"I'm going to put your arms around my shoulders," said the redhead, whose face struck Daeron as even more enchanting up close. They had pale green eyes and freckles that dotted along their refined features.
"Alright," agreed Daeron, his voice crackling from the effort.
The redhead nodded again, before they slowly slid between Daeron and the cask, pulling Daeron's arms around their neck, twisting around so their back rested against Daeron's chest, "stay relaxed if you can."
"I don't think I would have the energy to panic if I could," Daeron said with a half hearted smile.
The redhead laughed. "At least you have a sense of humour. Can you move your feet?"
"Yes."
"Excellent. We will kick together towards the boat."
Pushing away from the cask, the redhead swam themselves and Daeron to the boat in a method that seemed practiced.
"You've done this before." Daeron remarked.
"True. You are not the first nor the last person I've rescued from a shipwreck."
"I'm in good hands then."
"Hmm didn't say that," joked the redhead as they came up to the skiff.
"You got 'im Gi?" Asked one of the men, a rough looking bald man with a dark beard.
"Sure do." The redhead, Gi, said before sliding Daeron's hands onto the edge of the boat, “help him in, will you lot?"
Daeron could start to feel the feeling coming back into his fingers, but it was good to have help. The men in the boat pulled him in, resting Daeron in the centre of the skiff. Gi pulled themself into the boat nimbly, as if they hadn't just dragged a man from a shipwreck. They started to put their clothes back on, passing the jacket to Daeron.
"You can hold onto that for me for now," said Gi with a wink as they pulled on their leather boots.
In the light, now that he wasn't trying to conserve his energy, Daeron noticed how the other men on the boat had averted their eyes while the redhead was dressing. As Gi put on their green vest over their shirt, Daeron began to understand why. Gi had breasts. Not sizable ones but breasts nonetheless. A female sailor? Perhaps the wife of one of the crew members? But that wouldn't explain why Gi came out with the crew.
"Captain? Shall we head back to the ship?" Asked another man to Daeron's left, a young and handsome Dornish looking fellow dressed in mustard yellow clothing. He was looking at Daeron's rescuer.
Gi cast her eyes over to the man, "Aye, I do not see much in the way of survivors or materials, other than cask boy here. We can head back."
The other men nodded and began to turn the skiff around using the oars. Gi was chatting with the Dornish man with a serious look on her face. Daeron could not hear what was being said.
The bald man handed Daeron a flask, "Drink slow, lad. And stop staring at the Captain. It's rude," he whispered.
"Oh, my apologies," said Daeron, taking the flask and having a sip. Sadly it was water. "Thank you for the drink."
"Eh, don't mention it." The man grunted.
"I am grateful though. I was being taunted by the smell of that wine cask for hours," Daeron admitted.
The bald man barked out a laugh, "Ha! Some cruel form of torture that is. It's partly because of the cask that we noticed you. Such a large thing! Here we were hoping that there would be some wine left over." The man joked.
"Alas no. Wish there was."
"Did you drink it all while you were waiting for rescue?"
It was Daeron's turn to laugh. "No, I wasn't even aware we had wine casks on the boat. The captain and crew were under strict instructions to not allow any alcohol within my sight."
The bald man gave Daeron a sideways glance, "You a teetotaller?"
"Nope. A total drunk. My father thought the sea voyage would cure me of my lust for drink. If anything, it made me want to drink more."
The bald man laughed again, paddling his oar through the water, "You won't be the only person struggling with that problem. Though on our ship, our captain strictly rations spirits."
Part of Daeron was disappointed but he did not really get a say in his choice of rescuers. "Is it usual to have a female captain?," he asked while swigging a little more of the water.
"Not on most boats, but we pirates are not picky so long as they're a good leader. And our Captain is a good leader and an even better pirate."
"Pirates?" Oh no. What had Daeron gotten himself into, "like Ironborn reavers?" Would they kill him? Ransom him as a bargaining chip to his family? Not that they'd pay it. He wasn't the heir to the throne. Just a lesser prince of the realm.
The bald pirate looked offended at the suggestion of reavers, momentarily pausing his rowing before shaking his head in the negative before rowing again. Around them, all the other pirates were rowing, chatting and singing as they did so. The captain remained chatting with the handsome fellow at the front of the boat. None of them noticed the man's conversation with Daeron.
"Not like those bastards. They have no honour. Rapers and thieves, they are. We don't stand for none of that," replied the bald man, "Captain prefers the term privateers. Sounds much more professional-like."
"Huh," said Daeron, "I guess it does," he agreed with a shrug. He was getting sleepy, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. He hadn't rested since he'd been on the boat. And that hadn't been rest. That had been the fevered dreams of a man going through withdrawal. Sobriety and dragon dreams did not make for good bedfellows.
"Sleep lad." Grumbled the bald pirate, "There'll be time for explanations once you're rested."
It felt like when he was a child, his mother telling Daeron to go to sleep after she'd found him awake in the library, book in hand, hoping to stay awake.
"But I…"
"You're safe, lad. We may be pirates but we take care of others. You just rest."
Daeron wanted to protest, to say he'd rather stay awake and alert, but it was no use. His body made the decision that Daeron needed to sleep. With the rocking of the waves and the chatter of the pirates he fell into the realm of his dreams.
Authors Notes:
Teehee I am so excited to share this story. It’s been cooking in my head for a while. I love the idea of Daeron amongst a swashbuckling group of adventurers. Daeron is the character who has fascinated me the most since watching the show, so I thought I’d give him some love.
Some notes about the story and inspiration:
-Gi (pronounced Gee) is nonbinary but doesn’t really care about pronouns. I based them on my own experience as I am very femme appearing but I’m pretty good with any pronouns. You’ll see that later on in the story as Gi’a gender identity kinda fluctuates based on their mood and what they’re wearing.
-I really wanted to explore some horror elements in the dreams, as I want to show just why Daeron would want to avoid dreams at all costs.
-I was very inspired by the interpretation of Long John Silver in Treasure Planet when I wrote the one bald pirate. (No foreshadowing there. Just character personality inspiration)
-When I first started writing Gi, I was inspired a bit by the description of Captain Hook in the Peter Pan novel. Though they do not look alike, I think that the fact that they’re beautiful looking pirates with a sense of honour and good form is an interesting contrast to Daeron. I’m looking forward to exploring that and their past in later chapters.
Since the pandemic, Zea has had a successful career as a cam model online – it beat doing corporate graphic design every single day – until they get the opportunity to intern under a tattoo artist, a job they've dreamed of having since they were a teenager. The first person Zea wants to tell is their online mutual, an artist who they know nothing about, but talk to almost daily.
Milo lives on the other side of the world and is content with eir life - a mediocre flat that e can at least afford alone, a tattoo studio where most of the other artists respect eir gender identity, and friends e absolutely loves. But when the owner of the studio e works for suggests Milo apply for a guest spot at a queer-owned tattoo studio in South Africa, Milo decides to challenge emself to go for it.
Except e's really not expecting to find the online friend e's been talking to and developing feelings for to be apprenticing there. Can Milo work up the courage to tell Zea who e really is before Zea can figure it out on their own?
Oh shit, I've barely posted about this...
Anyway, on Saturday I'm releasing the Demo for a game called Wonderlanders that I'm working on with my brother onto Itch.io (and maybe some other places). Its a 2d RPG going for a similar vibe to Earthbound and Undertale (and some other, less popular games.) Featuring a non-binary protagonist named Scout (Featured Below) who gets teleported to the absurdist world of Atlas after trying and failing to feed pizza to a stray cat (Featured below that).
As they try to get home, they fight all kinds of enemies, ranging from a slug who's late for work to Kappa Prime!!! the shark captain of a crew of Pirate Ghosts!
But are they alone on this quest? NO!!! They are joined by many friends they meet along the way. Such as:
Kid, the adopted son of two goat detectives who are also the GOATS,
Carliese, the heiress to a fallen fast food empire,
And Kent the Cat, a Philosopher who's buff both physically and logically.
The demo is just the prologue, about ten minutes, until you actually get teleported into Atlas. Its mostly to get interest and feedback, and to have something to point to when we say we're working on a game. The real thing will be out in about six months.
This is a potential game that I have been working on for the past 5 years, I'm excited to finally be able to share it with others :) (feel free to ask me abt it)
Kingdoms of the Hollow is a high fantasy world based on the continent called “The Hollow” where there are nine main kingdoms and three commonwealth realms.
Magic is something that every denizen of The Hollow has the potential to succeed in. Magic derives from the individual’s spirit, which is something that all sentient beings have, the stronger the person’s spirit is the stronger their magic will be. Spiritual power is like a muscle, if someone doesn't practice it then they will eventually be able to use it at all. People who use magic in an official sense, like a job, or specialize in it, then they would be classified as a mage.
There are three different types of mages, there are wizards, witches, and sorcerers. Wizards learn from spirits and utilize their power as their own (Arcane Magic), witches work directly with spirits as an extension of their own magical power (Organic Magic), and a sorcerer is someone who combines the two.
Spirits are the source of all magical power. Before sentient organic creatures started populating the world there were incorporeal beings made of pure spiritual energy. Long before when the story started there were beings that were perfect fifty-fifty splits of organic and spiritual bodies.
Eventually over time organic lifeforms (such as humans) hunted several species of the hybrid lifeforms to be endangered and the rest extinct completely.
In present day spiritual, hybrid, and organic beings have all formed an uneasy truce, promising not to spread any more unnecessary violence. Mages work hard to both repair relationships with the other sentient beings of The Hollow as well as develop their own magical power without the aid of spirits.
One of the ways that mages can collaborate with spirits is through familiars. The term familiar is used to describe a spirit that has made a magical pact with a mage, in most cases these pacts are formed consensually however there have been instances in the past where one of the two beings involved somehow forced the pact onto the other.
It is imperative that anyone who wishes to learn any kind of magic must learn within the proper setting. Without the proper safe environment, it is possible for someone to be influenced by harmful spirits, especially if they are young, since that is when a person’s spiritual essence isn’t properly tethered to themselves.
The story will follow a young mage in training, they’re ambitious goal is to follow in their grandmother’s footsteps and become a sorcerer. One morning they are given a seemingly simple task, to collect several ingredients for a pie that their grandmother wants to make. She prefaces that there is no time limit and wishes for them to take their time and to do their absolute best in obtaining the ingredients. They leave their house to go and peruse the local markets but are stunned to see that all of the local shops and usual stands are all closed, meaning that this task will be much harder than they thought.
Discovered a new comic yesterday and oml I need to read all the other ones from the same author. The artstyle is so cute and the main character resonated so much with me 🥹
The comic is called A Song For You And I, by K. O’Neill
I'll never forget my first novel, the one I got the courage to publish also through the encouragement of the Tumblr community!
“Tomboy” doesn’t quite capture it. In 1980s Italy, Leda is just trying to survive puberty, gender norms, and a summer of wild adventures. 💫
🍝 An Italian Adventure is a nostalgic, heartfelt story about a nonbinary preteen finding connection, friendship, and identity in the most unexpected places. Think Anne of Green Gables meets The Goonies, with queer vibes and Italian food you can taste. 💕🌈
📚 Perfect for fans of queer coming-of-age stories, timeless friendships, and indie books with soul. 🔗
✨ If you haven't yet, get your copy here! Audio, paperback, and digital ✨
