Omg That's Ewan FUCKING Mitchell 🙏🏻

via

Silchas Ruin with hust swords. 

Credits: netcrow98 (Twitter)

Made this a while ago but now feels like the perfect time to post it

EWAN MITCHELL as AEMOND TARGARYEN House of the Dragon S2E8 - "The Queen Who Ever Was"

the prince who was promised: the prodigal son, blood of the ruby red dragon and the bleeding sun, cleaved down by his own usurper-aunt and bastard brother. i call that a song of ice and fire, baby!!!

aka “the thought of the triumphant and beloved prince who would make an excellent king coming to westeros, reclaiming his father’s throne, and then getting cast down by the protagonists of the story anyways despite being a good fit for the crown? that’s some bittersweet Ice and Fire, baby"

Tomes & Tea | 22-05-2022

Cast out from home, sixteen and pregnant, Catherine Goggin boards the bus to Dublin to start afresh. Once there, she has no choice but to believe that the nun to whom she entrusts her child will find him a better life.

“He is my son, my first son!”

genuinely do think house hightower is cooler and more interesting than the targaryens, like dont get me wrong i like both but the hightowers take it. easily. their shadowy history of alchemy and necromancy, patronage of westeros' cultural and religious institutions, and big fuckass taller-than-the-wall lighthouse has bewitched me body and soul. dragons, blood magic, and a destabilising obsession with incest is all well and good - but institutional corruption and the delicate mastery of soft power? just too tasty. been on the wrong side of several wars and never lost a head or a penny from their main line because they know how to play the game. one of the richest houses in westeros and they know how to do it right ! funding the arts, sciences, faith. controlling the narrative. every message goes through the maesters, them and septas tutoring little lords and ladies, all roads lead to oldtown, and thats just how its done why would you even question it. how could you question it. and all the while the lord of the hightower sits up in the clouds in a tower built atop an unsettling ancient labyrinth of black stone, burning a flame that can be seen for miles, lighting the city every night. like good luck getting away with shit when theres no shadowy corners to hide in. the metaphor isnt subtle. every other house would wish they were the hightowers if they could conceptualise the higher plane this familys operating on.