So@shebsart do you ever wonder what kind of bloggers the Greyjoy would be?
Euron: owns half of the porn bots on Tumblr. Follows Victarion from every one of them, just because.
Victarion: doesn’t know this and follows back.
Asha: has multiple anonymous accounts so she can sneak incognito on people.
Balon: follows all the conspiracies theorists.
Theon: blogs about jewelry (blocked his father).
Aeron: deactivated drunkonoctopusrhum.blog. Currently on howtodrinkseawaterwithoutdying.blog. Has a lot of followers. His followers from the previous blog all wonder where the hell he went.
Theon: blogs about horticulture (blocked howtodrinkseawaterwithoutdying.blog).
Aeron: “how a whale swallowed me and retched me up on Tumblr shores”
Euron: mod on Finger Bank DiscordTM
Victarion: blogs about his sea travel & expedition agency. Nobody follows him.
Victarion: buy me a hand fund.
Euron: blogs about his sea travel & expedition agency. Everyone follows him.
Victarion: buy me a hand fund is empty because nobody follows him.
Theon: old archives full of cute DogLife reblogs. Newer ones don’t have any. Reasons unsure.
Asha: post videos of herself juggling with axes.
Asha: write educative posts on her main blog. Latest ones include “Moon Tea or the Pill? Which contraceptive to choose”, “How to get out of the woods”, “Legal advice on getting a divorce in Pyke” and “The do’s and don’ts of bridge safety” (tagged @brexitbalon)
Balon: buy me a brain fund.
Aeron: is gathering proof that the maesters knew all along about the healing properties of seaweed and hid it to keep their monopoly on the medical field.
Euron: banned from Tumblr for 3 years after severely violating their guidelines.
wanted to do another family portrait for the prompt #1 : Favorite House
this time and AU where Greyjoy rebellion never happened and Rodrik and Maron are alive.
I feel none of them being the heir, Asha and Theon would be closer, they can still bicker and fight but yeah hating their big brothers make them look out for each other.
So I wanted to portray that by Asha telling some joke to Theon and Theon trying not to laugh lol
A lion may be fierce enough on land, but at sea the kraken rules supreme. - The Reaver, aFfC
House Greyjoy - Theon, Balon, Asha / Euron, Victarion, Aeron
the stranger, the leader, the supporter… People asked me to do more houses in the style of my mormont piece from a while back, so after the several ironborn related events this year i felt inspired to do a greyjoy piece :)
Hawaiian clothing influences inspired by headcanon talk with @mylestoyne❤
A lion may be fierce enough on land, but at sea the kraken rules supreme. - The Reaver, aFfC
House Greyjoy - Theon, Balon, Asha / Euron, Victarion, Aeron
the stranger, the leader, the supporter… People asked me to do more houses in the style of my mormont piece from a while back, so after the several ironborn related events this year i felt inspired to do a greyjoy piece :)
Hawaiian clothing influences inspired by headcanon talk with @mylestoyne❤
“What in the seven hells is it?” Greyjoy was saying.
“A wolf,” Robb told him.
“A freak,” Greyjoy said. “Look at the size of it.”
…Half-burried in bloodstained snow, a huge dark shape slumped in death…
“It’s no freak,” Jon said calmly. “That’s a direwolf. They grow larger than the other kind.”
Theon Greyjoy said, “There’s not been a direwolf sighted south of the Wall in two hundred years.”
“I see one now,” Jon replied.
Bran tore his eyes away from the monster. That was when he noticed the bundle in Robb’s arms. He gave a cry of delight and moved closer. The pup was a tiny ball of grey-black fur, its eyes still closed… “Go on,” Robb told him. “You can touch him.”
Bran gave the pup a quick nervous stroke, then turned as Jon said, “Here you go.” His half brother put a second pup into his arms. “There are five of them.”
“Direwolves loose in the realm, after so many years,” muttered Hullen, the master of horse. “I like it not.”
“It is a sign,” Jory said.
Father frowned. “This is only a dead animal, Jory,” he said… “Do we know what killed her?”
“There’s something in the throat,” Robb told him, proud to have found the answer before his father even asked. “There, just under the jaw.”
His father knelt and groped under the beast’s head with his hand. He gave a yank and held it up for all to see. A foot of shattered antler, tines snapped off, all wet with blood.
A sudden silence descended over the party… Even Bran could sense their fear, though he did not understand.
His father tossed the antler to the side and cleansed his hands in the snow. “I’m surprised she lived long enough to whelp,” he said…
“Maybe she didn’t,” Jory said. “I’ve heard tales… maybe the bitch was already dead when the pups came.”
…“No matter,” said Hullen. “They be dead soon enough too.”
Bran gave a wordless cry of dismay.
“The sooner the better,” Theon Greyjoy agreed. He drew his sword. “Give the beast here, Bran.”
…“No!” Bran cried out fiercely. “It’s mine.”
“Put away your sword, Greyjoy,” Robb said. For a moment he sounded as commanding as their father, like the lord he would someday be. “We will keep these pups.”
“You cannot do that, boy,” said Harwin, who was Hullen’s son.
“It be a mercy to kill them,” Hullen said.
Bran looked to his lord father for rescue, but got only a frown, a furrowed brow. “Hullen speaks truly, son. Better a swift death than a hard one from cold and starvation.”
“No!” He could feel tears welling in his eyes, and he looked away. He did not want to cry in front of his father.
Robb resisted stubbornly. “Ser Rodrik’s red bitch whelped again last week,” he said. “It was a small litter only two live pups. She’ll have milk enough.”
“She’ll rip them apart when they try to nurse.”
“Lord Stark,” Jon said. It was strange to hear him call Father that, so formal. Bran looked at him with desperate hope. “There are five pups,” he told Father. “Three male, two female.”
“What of it, Jon?”
“You have five trueborn children,” Jon said. “Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord.”
Bran saw his father’s face change, saw the other men exchange glances. He loved Jon with all his heart at that moment. Even at seven, Bran understood what his brother had done. The count had come right only because Jon had omitted himself. He had included the girls, included even Rickon, the baby, but not the bastard who bore the surname Snow, the name custom decreed be given to all those in the north unlucky enough to be born with no name of their own.
Their father understood as well. “You want no pup for yourself, Jon?” he asked softly.
“The direwolf graces the banners of House Stark,” Jon pointed out. “I am no Stark, Father.”
Their lord father regarded Jon thoughtfully. Robb rushed into the silence he left. “I will nurse him myself, Father,” he promised. “I will soak a towel with warm milk, and give him suck from that.”
“Me too!” Bran echoed.
The lord weighed his sons long and carefully with his eyes. “Easy to say, and harder to do. I will not have you wasting the servants’ time with this. If you want these pups, you will feed them yourselves. Is that understood?”
Bran nodded eagerly…
“You must train them as well,” their father said. “You must train them. The kennelmaster will have nothing to do with these monsters, I promise you that. And the gods help you if you neglect them, or brutalize them, or train them badly. These are not dogs to beg for treats and slink off at a kick. A direwolf will rip a man’s arm off his shoulder as easily as a dog will kill a rat. Are you sure you want this?”
“Yes, Father,” Bran said.
“Yes,” Robb agreed.
“Keep them, then. Jory, Desmond, gather up the other pups. It’s time we were back to Winterfell.”
…Halfway across the bridge, Jon pulled up suddenly.
“What is it, Jon?” their lord father asked.
“Can’t you hear it?”
“There,” Jon said… “He must have crawled away from the others.”
“Or been driven away, their father said, looking at the sixth pup. His fur was white, where the rest of the litter was grey. His eyes were as red as the blood of the ragged man who died that morning. Bran thought it curious that this pup alone would have opened his eyes while the others were still blind.
"An albino,” Theon Greyjoy said with wry amusement. “This one will die even faster than the others.”
Jon Snow gave his father’s ward a long, chilling look. “I think not, Greyjoy,” he said. “This one belongs to me.”
“Yes, Father,” Bran told him…“Rob said the man died bravely, but Jon says he was afraid.”
“What do you think?”
Bran thought about it. “Can a man still be brave if he’s afraid?”
“That is the only time a man can be brave,” his father told him. “Do you understand why I did it?”
“He was a wildling,” Bran said. “They carry of women and sell them to the Others.”
His lord father smiled. “Old Nan has been telling you stories again. In truth, the man was an oathbreaker, a deserter from the Night’s Watch. No man is more dangerous. The deserter knows his life is forfeit if he is taken, so he will not flinch from any crime, no matter how vile. But you mistake me. The question was not why the man had to die, but why I must do it.”
Bran had no answer for that. “King Robert has a headman,” he said, uncertainly.
“He does,” his father admitted. “As did the Targaryen kings before him. Yet our way is the older way. The blood of the First Men still flows in the veins of the Starks, and we hold the belief that the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. If you would take a man’s life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his final words. And if you cannot bear to do that, then perhaps the man does not deserve to die.
"One day, Bran, you will be Robb’s bannerman, holding a keep of your own for your brother and your king, and justice will fall to you. When that day comes, you must take no pleasure in the task, but neither must you look away. A ruler who hides behind paid executioners soon forgets what death is.”
Asha in this chapter: My uncle? His eye patch? Wack. His jewelry? Wack. His creepy blue lips? Wack. The way he overuses ominous foreshadowing? Wack. The way he cuts people’s tongues out? Wack. Me? I’m tight as fuck!
Chapters of A Song of Ice & Fire - A Dance With Dragons - Victarion I “My brother Balon was a great man,” he said, “but I shall do what he could not. The Iron Islands shall be free again, and the Old Way will return. Even Dagon could not do that.” Almost a hundred years had passed since Dagon Greyjoy sat the Seastone Chair, but the ironborn still told tales of his raids and battles. In Dagon’s day a weak king sat the Iron Throne, his rheumy eyes fixed across the narrow sea where bastards and exiles plotted rebellion. So forth from Pyke Lord Dagon sailed, to make the Sunset Sea his own. “He bearded the lion in his den and tied the direwolf’s tail in knots, but even Dagon could not defeat the dragons. But I shall make the dragon queen mine own. She will share my bed and bear me many mighty sons.”
wanted to do another family portrait for the prompt #1 : Favorite House
this time and AU where Greyjoy rebellion never happened and Rodrik and Maron are alive.
I feel none of them being the heir, Asha and Theon would be closer, they can still bicker and fight but yeah hating their big brothers make them look out for each other.
So I wanted to portray that by Asha telling some joke to Theon and Theon trying not to laugh lol
