#oc: andren

[ataraxixx]

ik its not lego but i been drawing dragons again recnrtly... heres two of my wof ocs i redesigned

[undead-dragonborn]

my omnipresent oc-verse brain rot is mixing with my warframe brain rot.

[inkandarsenic]

☆INK'S ASOIAF OCS☆

☆pt. 2☆

Arwyn

fc: Ruby Cruz as Kit Tanthalos in Willow

Arwyn is a wildling who managed to get past the Wall and has been hiding living in a village in Umber lands for a few months. When the call for the banners goes out, Arwyn cuts her hair short and pretends to be a boy named Andren and goes with the soldiers, thinking that no one is going to question where a random lowborn soldier came from. She's good with daggers but frankly abysmal with a sword. While trying to escape the weight of his crown, Robb takes it upon himself to teach Andren how to be less terrible at sword work, and they become friends. Robb eventually realizes he's a little bit in love with his friend and has a bit of a panic because he thinks Arwyn is a man. Sort of a Mulan au I guess.

Elyse Cerwyn

fc: Vittoria Puccini as Elisa Scalzi

Elyse is Robb's wife he married a few months before calling his banners and going to war. They'd been betrothed since they were children, but Robb had always been reluctant to marry her -- he sort of saw it as just another thing his station demanded of him, and resented that he'd never get to marry someone he chose, and therefore never really took the time to get to know her? Robb is kinda... not great for a lot of this one ngl -- and was fine leaving her behind when he left for war. Elyse becomes really close friends with Osha since the two of them and Luwin are basically raising Bran and Rickon while everyone else is gone, and the people of Winterfell love their Lady Stark. When Theon takes Winterfell, Elyse goes south to Riverrun and Robb while the boys and Osha go North to Jon. When she gets there, she learns that Robb has taken a lover (Talisa) and everyone with him defers to her as his queen, which Robb does nothing to stop. Elyse is pretty much left to her own devices and has no guard, and spends almost all of her time outside the grounds of Riverrun, on multiple occasions not coming back for days at a time. She's my artist oc, who loses track of time drawing in the woods a lot. Her hands are almost perpetually stained with ink, and she's close with Jon, he was her first kiss and she sends most of her drawings to him except the ones of Robb.

Rhaelle Targaryen

fc: Alicia Agneson as Princess Katia in Vikings

Rhaelle is Dany's half sister. Rhaella lived through Dany's birth, and she, Viserys and Dany managed to escape Dragonstone and ended up on Driftmark. Lord Velaryon got Rhaella pregnant almost immediately -- he made her sleep with him as "payment" for harboring them -- and when Rhaella died in childbirth, he tried to hand all three kids over to Robert. Before that could happen, they were smuggled off to Essos. Viserys, having been crowned king, refuses to declare Rhaelle a bastard he never really lets her forget it though and names Rhaelle for his mother, despite Rhaelle not having the traditional Targaryen looks -- she is almost never called Rhaelle though, since Viserys decides after a few years that it's too close to their mother's name and so calls her Rhae. Since Viserys hates Daenerys for looking like Rhaella and hates Rhaelle for being what killed Rhaella, the girls grow up very close. When they goes to Westeros and Dany takes the Iron Throne, she agrees to let the North remain an independent kingdom, so long as the alliance is sealed with the marriage of her sister to the King, Robb Stark -- everything Dany has heard and seen of him points to Robb being a good man, and she wants her sister safe from the other lords in Westeros demanding her hand. Rhae is somewhat reluctant to be in the cold North so far from Dany, but she loves her sister and she has Rhaegal with her, so she agrees. Unfortunately for Rhae, Robb is only unwed because he's never moved on from his first wife, Talisa. Robb doesn't want this marriage, and the North hates the idea of a Targaryen queen, and Rhae is shut out and shunned despite her attempts to connect with Robb and his people. Rhae is warm and kind, but has a spine of cold steel in her when she feels she needs to -- hardly ever in defense of herself. She loves her sister and her dragon more than anything, and will endure just about anything for Dany. She's fairly good at being a queen because she's learned from and helped Dany in Essos. I talked about her storyline in a couple asks to Snow: here here and here, though at that point it was still an xreader idea lol

part one

[masterfuldoodler]

But it did hit. A feeling he wasn’t sure he liked, boiling up deep in his gut, that he was unable to ignore. He wanted two things, so fiercely it almost physically hurt him.

One, to make it so Lenesse would never have to cry like this again, to bring back her smile - and two, to make Lanshir pay for ever having taken it away from her.

~ Writing and Character created by @larissa-the-scribe

[sylvianartist]

@zeddyzi 's character Stone and @methinkethashipeth 's character Andren smoking and dying inside together :3

[methinkethashipeth]

Loved this meme so I drew my OCS Aubree and Andren in it XDD (Aubree is always coming up with theories and whatnot and Andren just tiredly listens)

[vunnjainen]

i finally got a screenshot of the bastard and im love him

[clexaao3feed]

- Ungebrochen -

by Skhildrun

Diese Geschichte widmet sich zum Einen der Vergangenheit von Leksa kom Trikru und gewährt einen Einblick in die Zeit, in der die Himmelsmenschen noch keinen Fuß zurück auf die Erde gesetzt haben; zum andren schlägt sie den Bogen bis in die Gegenwart der dritten Serienstaffel. Der Krieg gegen Azgeda, die Ausbildung der Natblida, die Vereinigung der Clans, die Vergangenheit mit Costia und schließlich auch die Gegenwart mit Clarke Griffin - all das werdet ihr finden, wobei ich so wenig wie möglich von der dargestellten Welt der Serie abweichen werde.

Words: 1156, Chapters: 1/?, Language: Deutsch

Fandoms: The 100 (TV)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M

Characters: Lexa (The 100), Costia (The 100), Clarke Griffin, Roan (The 100), Echo (The 100), Indra (The 100), Titus (The 100), Luna (The 100), Aden (The 100), Raven Reyes, Nia | Ice Queen, Ontari (The 100), Lincoln (The 100), Derrick (The 100)

Relationships: Costia/Lexa (The 100), Indra/OC, Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Octavia Blake/Lincoln, Echo & Roan (The 100), Abby Griffin/Marcus Kane

Additional Tags: Grounder Culture

Read Here: http://ift.tt/2spnxhe via IFTTT

[ao3feed-the100]

- Ungebrochen -

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2spnxhe

by Skhildrun

Diese Geschichte widmet sich zum Einen der Vergangenheit von Leksa kom Trikru und gewährt einen Einblick in die Zeit, in der die Himmelsmenschen noch keinen Fuß zurück auf die Erde gesetzt haben; zum andren schlägt sie den Bogen bis in die Gegenwart der dritten Serienstaffel. Der Krieg gegen Azgeda, die Ausbildung der Natblida, die Vereinigung der Clans, die Vergangenheit mit Costia und schließlich auch die Gegenwart mit Clarke Griffin - all das werdet ihr finden, wobei ich so wenig wie möglich von der dargestellten Welt der Serie abweichen werde.

Words: 1156, Chapters: 1/?, Language: Deutsch

Fandoms: The 100 (TV)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M

Characters: Lexa (The 100), Costia (The 100), Clarke Griffin, Roan (The 100), Echo (The 100), Indra (The 100), Titus (The 100), Luna (The 100), Aden (The 100), Raven Reyes, Nia | Ice Queen, Ontari (The 100), Lincoln (The 100), Derrick (The 100)

Relationships: Costia/Lexa (The 100), Indra/OC, Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Octavia Blake/Lincoln, Echo & Roan (The 100), Abby Griffin/Marcus Kane

Additional Tags: Grounder Culture

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2spnxhe

[inkandarsenic]

these hollow empty spaces (4)

"do what is right, not what is easy."

Synopsis: The youngest daughter of Tywin Lannister refuses to stand idly by, and the currents of fate shift.

Pairing: Robb Stark x Lannister!OC

Tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers but like enemies more in the political sense

shorter than the last couple chapters I think but I am starting to realize that the shorter chapters are easier for me to get out? I also just felt like this should end where it did. idk, depends on the brain hamsters I guess.

Pt. 4

masterlist | first | previous | next

Ned Stark’s death had indeed been the ringing death knell of fourteen years of peace. Stannis Baratheon had declared himself the rightful heir. Renly Baratheon, for reasons Eleyna could not fathom — wasn’t he the younger brother? — had declared himself the rightful king. And if that wasn’t enough, Stannis Baratheon had sent ravens to every lord in Westeros declaring the royal children to be bastards — Cersei’s children, but with Jaime.

She glanced at Cersei across the dinner table and suppressed her shudder. Cersei had denied being involved with Jaime like that, but Eleyna didn’t know if she believed her — Jaime and Cersei had always been practically inseparable, Eleyna and Tyrion had made jokes about it. And the children had nothing of Robert in them — “Lannister to their core,” Ned Stark’s voice whispered in her mind.

Sansa Stark sat to her left. Joffrey had been incandescent with rage when Eleyna had announced Sansa as a ward of House Lannister, and given the girl one of her personal guards — Andren, who was around Robb’s age and had a younger sister himself, and harbored a deep dislike of Joffrey. Sansa went nowhere in the Keep alone.

Eleyna liked the girl. She’d picked up on court life fairly quickly, and refused to be broken. She would be okay, Eleyna thought, though it brought her no comfort. Joffrey tried his best to get the girl alone and one day he would succeed. Eleyna needed to get her out, and she would. If only she knew how.

Peace terms had arrived with cousin Alton along with word that Robb Stark was calling himself the King in the North. Eleyna rather thought it would be more a case of other people calling him such — he really hadn’t struck her as the power-grabbing type — but she kept these thoughts to herself.

Robb wanted his sisters back. He wanted his father’s remains and those of his father’s men. He wanted recognition of the North as a free and independent kingdom. Cersei had laughed and torn the paper, and sent Alton back to Robb with a denial and a demand to bend the knee. Eleyna had toyed with the idea of sending Alton with a letter to Robb, and had immediately dismissed the idea — what would she even say? ‘Condolences on the death of your father at the hands of my nephew’? She doubted it would be welcome. She doubted that he still considered her friend.

****

She woke to the sound of splatters against stone and a gurgling choke, in a dark bedroom, curled against a cold body. She didn’t have to look to know it was her mother, but of course she did anyway. Eleyna knew this dream well. Maryana Ashford’s eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, forever locked in resigned terror. Her face was bloodless, pale, flecked with red where her own blood had dried on her skin. Eleyna’s eyes drifted lower unwillingly. Her mother’s throat gaped open, a flash of bone visible where Tywin’s man had cut so deeply. Six year old Eleyna had been horrified and stuck in terror waking up to a large man killing her mother, and had been unable to move or think or do anything except curl back into Maryana’s side and hide from the world for nearly a full day before Tywin came looking for her. Seventeen year old Eleyna was familiar with the memory that frequented her dreams, and took a long last look at her mother’s face — blurrier every year — before turning to leave out the bedroom door that would wake her.

The door spit her out into a cold, dark stone corridor, and true fear gripped her. This wasn’t how it was meant to go. She turned to go back into her mother’s bedroom—a familiar place at least — but the door was gone, and the only exit a pinprick of light at the top of stone stairs. A cold and biting wind blew from behind her, deeper into the black of the corridor, making the hair on the back of her neck raise.

She ran for the stairs out, but it was like running through a thick syrup — she could hardly move and the light seemed further away than when she’d started. A torch sputtered to life and she grabbed it, grateful for the light. She was in a crypt of some sort — not the Lannister crypts in Casterly Rock, for she recognized none of the stone faces glaring down at her. The statues held rusted swords and wore imposing, sharp crowns on their heads. She held the torch higher and squinted at the nearest statue. There was something about the face that she could almost place… Footsteps made her shoulders tense, and she turned slowly, only to shriek and drop the torch. It flickered but didn’t go out, and rolled to a stop at Ned Stark’s feet, casting him in gruesome shadow. His neck ended abruptly in a gory stump, and his head was held in his hand, dripping blood onto the floor, grey eyes seeming to stare into her soul. His other hand lifted and pointed at her.

“Traitor,” he rasped, over and over, his voice sounding like a last desperate gasp. His head fell from his hand with the same thump as it had made on the stone steps, and hit her feet. Warm liquid seeped into her slippers. She swallowed hard and backed away. “Traitor,” Ned Stark accused. Eleyna turned and ran for the stairs, that rasping voice turning into a choking scream as she got further away.

She woke with a gasp and a racing heart, sweating through her shift. The fire had died in her room and wind whistled through a crack in the shutters. That must have been what brought on the dream. She slid out of bed and padded across the room to the window, pushing open the shutter and leaning out as far as she dared.

It was a full moon in the Riverlands tonight, the first truly clear night since she’d arrived at Harrenhal some weeks ago. The God’s Eye glittered at her from beyond the castle walls. Eleyna frowned as she stared at the lake. The details of her dream were beginning to slip her mind — already she could not recall the faces of those in that crypt.

Why would Ned Stark declare her a traitor, even in her own mind? She’d had to leave Sansa behind in King’s Landing when Tywin had called her to Harrenhal, but she hadn’t left the girl unprotected. And it hadn’t been her who ordered his execution. Her mind drifted to the sword tucked and hidden away in her belongings — Ice, Robb had called it in one conversation a lifetime ago. His family’s ancestral sword. Perhaps her subconscious knew how wrong it was for that sword to be in her possession still — she’d had Prestan steal it away from Ilyn Payne’s rooms the morning they left the Red Keep, and she intended to turn it over to the Starks at the first opportunity.

A cold breeze washed over her and she pulled back, shutting and bolting the window. It was just a dream, she told herself firmly. Everyone says Harrenhal is cursed. She herself had gotten the uncomfortable impression of being watched and unwelcome when she’d ventured into the godswood — the trees were tall, and made the wood dark and uninviting, and the Heart Tree in the center was twisted and angry looking, carved with a hateful face, nothing at all like the Red Keep’s oak or Casterly Rock’s weirwood. She’d left as quickly as she could. The dream must just be her mind acting up because of the curse rumors and her lingering discomfort from the godswood. Still, she restarted the fire before climbing back into bed, and she did not sleep for a long while.

taglist: @dipperscavern @justmymindandstuff @thecrownprincessbride

[larissa-the-scribe]

Andren: Wow, Lenesse... you look radiant tonight. Lenesse, who only just started learning about her powers and is in the middle of an existential crisis: I KNOW Andren: Have I ever told you how you light up my life? Lenesse, almost crying: I CAN'T TURN IT OFF Andren: At least you have a bright future ahead of you Lenesse: WOULD YOU AT LEAST TRY TO HELP

[masterfuldoodler]

Oh yes. Very beautiful and very powerful kids. Lenesse deserves some comfy clothes so I took the artistic liberty of drawing it. Andren is just a tired dude.

@larissa-the-scribe has some cool ocs in her epic multiverse that you guys really need to check out ^^

[larissa-the-scribe]

Andren: Never so clearly have I understood the distinction between intelligence and wisdom. Esyin, using his second consecutive all-nighter to research the history of tic-tac-toe right before their one and only chance to pitch a potentially war-altering plan to King Zerzan: I have no idea what you're talking about.

[larissa-the-scribe]

Andren: Look, Lenesse, I told you I'd help you in your battles--and I will--but do you think you could stop starting more? For five seconds? I'd say ten but it'd be unfair of me to ask the impossible.

[larissa-the-scribe]

Left In Stitches

“I already told you that you can’t keep showing up here,” Tresha whispered to the air, blinking back tears, struggling to keep her hands from shaking as she threw together a salve from what little remained of their supplies. “For once would you listen to me?”

Andren and Esyin had volunteered to help. They were behind her, trying to help staunch the blood pouring from too many wounds.

There were too many injuries, too many people on the brink of death, more being brought in even hours after the battle had ended. Even someone in Lenesse’s condition only warranted a junior healer; the resources of the healers were spread distressingly thin. Under normal conditions, both Andren and Esyin should definitely be getting examined, but they were still mobile, still functional—their wounds were lower priority.

Scrubbing tears from her face with her sleeve, Tresha turned back to Lenesse with an amount of salve that seemed too little, too insignificant in the face of this. But it would have to do. Somehow.

She shouldered Esyin aside. “Could you start cleaning the needles? I’m going to need them for stitches.”

Esyin’s face was blank, more lost than she had seen him since he was a kid.

She pointed Andren to the wound on her shoulder, taking over to start cleaning the gash in Lenesse’s stomach. “Esyin, that means to burn them and wipe them off with one of the clothes in the corner. Those are the clean ones.”

Lenesse’s skin was scorching to the touch. Fever had already set in, and so had infection. Angry red streaks surrounded the swellings, mud and dirt still caked around them.

Part of Tresha hissed at her that, as a healer, she had a duty to others as well. She couldn’t afford to struggle this hard for a lost cause, not when so many other lives were at stake. She was being selfish, simply because she knew this person and not others.

A much larger part blocked that out, thinking of all the times Lenesse should have been dead before this point. She would never forgive herself if she didn’t at least try.

[larissa-the-scribe]

Andren and Ben

Andren makes them both tea and they swap stories about how cool their uber-magical love interests are, and then discuss the finer points of sword-fighting. Particularly longswords, unless they're feeling like a debate; for secondary favorite swords Andren prefers something more finesse-based and Ben is an enthusiastic advocate for dual-wielding.

Afterward, they start a support group for "what to do when you or a loved one has to deal with insanely out of control magic."

Okay but to actually answer, they'd think well of each other. They both have the Tired Caretaker Vibe™--if for different reasons. Ben falls more on the "excuse me, but why" end of the spectrum as opposed to the "oh dear heavens please don't" side that Andren falls on. (though to be fair Ben is dealing with essentially an immortal and Andren is dealing with a whole squad of people he knows to be regular squishy humans)

Overall, they'd have high opinions of each other. Andren would think Ben's freer, more laidback lifestyle is super cool while appreciating his steady approach to things; Ben would have a ton of respect for the amount of responsibility that Andren shoulders in order to take care of those around him.