"In the same way that your heart feels and your mind thinks, you, mortal beings, are the instrument by which the universe cares. If you choose to care, then the universe cares. If you don't, then it doesn't." -- Brennan Lee Mulligan, D20, Fantasy High
Some ya’ll who are younger need to google Frank Serpico and read about his time in the NYPD and what the cops did to him and attempted to do to him up until the late 90′s. He literally had to go into hiding in Italy and Switzerland and multiple times people tried to kill him. He only came back to America after the mafia (who hated the NYPD a lot, obviously) said “you’re under our protection.”
👆Really really good article by the way. Feels like a good piece to show to folks you know who are still on the fence about things like police or prison abolition. Plus the pseudonym the author uses is hysterical, and he's really quite a good writer.
extremely good article, please read it. at the very least read the "how to be a bastard" section, it outlines a lot of the ways cops will try to trick you
About: Mismatched political status cannot tame the desire you and Harwin have for one another. He's your sworn personal guard, you're his Princess, and the court loves to make assumptions. While your family would never approve him for a marriage candidate, your fiery heart wants what it wants.
Includes: Forbidden romance with a mix of tension, angst, fluff, and smut. This fic has a little of it all! Featuring themes of religious worship, oral sex (f), vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, and multiple orgasms. While not a dom/sub fic, our dear reader takes the reins in this one-"you" are not passive in it!
Note: Hello lovely reader! It's been nearly a year since the last time I finished and posted a fic-wow! Reader is pretty Rhaenyra-coded, but I wrote this with the idea of reader being Aemma's fanon sister pre-Dance/pre-show events. Again, reader is a Targaryen with classic features like pale skin, silver hair, and Targaryen eyes. Other than that, reader is non-descript. As always, I hope you enjoy it!
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Summer heat hung heavily amidst the Red Keep’s training yard. It was the sort of morning that had sweat glistening on the trainee’s brows during warm ups, and those ended an hour ago. Now, among grunts, shouts, and the occasional ruckus laughter, their tunics clung to their sweaty bodies. Some of the young men discarded their shirts entirely.
It wasn’t the young men your eyes always fell back to. No, your attention, without fail, landed on one of the men in the middle. Taller than the rest–even amongst his fellow City Watch soldiers who trained and watched the boys spar–with a sort of immovable stance that came with many years of his own training. Harwin Strong stood in his sparring garb, dark hair pulled back to keep it off his neck, and his sleeves pushed up to his elbows.
You hadn’t a single clue how he made such a casual thing look borderline sinful.
Even from the distance in which you watched him–a balcony overlooking the training yard–you could tell his eyes were ever watchful. You’d been casually observing this morning’s session since it began. It was a much more pleasant way to spend your morning than partaking in court gossip with fellow ladies. A princess was not excluded from such things, even if said gossip was entirely unimportant.
A small smirk pulled on your lips each time Harwin barked an order at one of the boys, or when he corrected them with a firm hand to their shoulder. He was never like that with you. Not only would it be blasphemy for the son of a lord to treat you, a princess, like that, but he would never be like that with you. Your knight. Your personal guard. Your looming shadow and stalwart protector in King’s Landing. He’d follow you beyond the city if you asked; you had a feeling he’d follow you anywhere.
Each time his rich umber gaze flicked up to you, he dipped his head in respect. And, each time he did, your expression turned feline. When that happened you swore his gaze darkened, his stance stiffening, while a rush of blood that had nothing to do with the boys crept into his face.
Despite what the court whispered, nothing has happened between you two. At least not yet. How you yearn for him though; lingered gazes, brief touches that drip with scandal for a knight and a princess, shared secret smiles.
Such as now, in the middle of laughed curses and clangs of practice steel, his attention is turned up to you. It’s nearly reverent as he takes in your sun-drenched features, tailored daytime silks, and partially bound silver hair.
‘Gods save me’ you swore you could hear him say.
When he looks at you like that you know the world around him fades.
Because you experience the same.
You smile at him, sweet as the dream imps nan’s warn the little ones about, before pushing off the balcony railing to turn and walk back inside; hips and skirts swaying.
Tonight. Tonight you would let him find you. And tonight, Seven above and Seven below, you will break the tension even if you have to swing the blade first.
-
The rest of the day came and went. Now, alone in the Godswood beneath the final dying embers of sunset, you allowed your mind to relax and wander: if you hadn’t been born a princess you’d be able to freely explore the world outside of the Red Keep without fear of retaliation from your family.
But, then again… you are a princess. You are the blood of the dragon. You could be, and do, whatever you please. Even if you have to take it by force. Even if it is to be conquered by fire and blood.
At that, you smile.
Soft footfalls sound behind you. You’d know those steps anywhere.
“I shouldn’t be out here alone,” you said without turning to see your knight. “Someone could take advantage of a lone little dragon.”
There was no lightness in his voice when he answered, “you’re not alone. And no one would dare.”
Without getting up from the bench, you turned your head over your shoulder to look up at him with your glittering Targaryen eyes. “Is that a promise, Ser Harwin?”
“It’s a fact." He locked his gaze with yours, a spark of your fire reflecting in the deep brown of his own.
“What if I want someone to dare?” You questioned boldly, that spark growing with his closeness. You stood up and didn’t look away from him. Toe to toe, the difference of your height and width made your belly flip–as it always did.
Harwin almost stumbled back a step with your proximity. If he were a weaker man he would have. Your scent, a unique mix of florals and dragon smoke, seemed to unravel the last threads of his restraint. “Princess…”
“You needn’t worry about titles when it’s just us. How many times must I tell you?” You asked with a tilt of your head–daring, playful, ever the temptress. “You’ve more than earned the right to call me by my name.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“You should,” you purred.
With a heavy sigh he closed his eyes; seemingly grounding himself for the torrent he knew was coming. “You are a Targaryen. A dragon. What am I but the son of a Lord and heir to a half burnt haunted keep in comparison? My oath is to serve and protect. That is all I am. That is all I know how to do.”
“I’m no longer a girl who needs protecting. And I’m not a woman who likes to be protected from the things I want.”
Tense silence filled the Godswood. You wondered if he was holding his breath. It looked like it. Your eyes searched each other for a long moment. You weren’t sure what he saw behind yours, but behind his you finally saw a crumbling wall that had one last line of defense. “If your family knew–”
“--I don't care,” you cut him off.
“You should,” he said, stern.
You hadn’t realized your chest was rising and falling like you’d just ran up the stairs of a tower. “I care about you,” you said, soft and half breathless. Your heart thundered against your ribs. “And I’m tired of pretending I don’t.”
Harwin’s own chest was rising and falling. As if his heart were about to beat right out of his ribcage. “I cannot give you what you deserve.”
You reached out and placed a palm on the center of his chest, doe-eyes looking up at him. “You’re not one to tell me what I do or don’t deserve. Only I am the judge of that. Let’s risk this together. No one has to know.”
Surely this was Targaryen madness.
Harwin’s last defense fell against the might of this little dragon.
Leaning down, he caught your face between his calloused hands and held your alabaster skin like you were the most precious thing. His lips found yours in a searing kiss. There was nothing soft or gentle about your first kiss with Harwin Strong. It was treason, desperation, forbidden, and so, so human. It all tasted like honey.
Your other hand lifted to squeeze his tunic with a satisfied whimper. He was hard where you were soft, and in that moment you wanted nothing more than to experience the squish of your naked breasts against his bare chest.
Every moment you two hadn’t dared give life to burned against each other’s mouth. Every ‘almost’, every lingered touch, every unspoken want, obliterated. Reaching up, you pushed your fingers through the thick curls of his hair, deepening the affection.
It was his turn to let out a satisfied breath. One of his arms lowered and wrapped around your waist, pulling you firmly against him.
Lips, tongues, nipping bites, it was all shared beneath the silent sentinels of the Godswood.
When finally you two broke apart, your breaths danced along each other’s mouths. “That,” you whispered, kissing him slowly again, “was long overdue. Don’t ever make me beg for your mouth again, Ser Harwin.”
Then he proclaimed a new vow. "Never.”
-
Nearly a fortnight had passed since yours and Harwin’s secret kiss in the Godswood. It’s not that you two hadn’t seen each other, or had time together, but there was never any private time. Barely any quiet time. The realm rarely rests for the royal family; these last weeks were no different.
Finally, after what seemed half an eternity, you realized you would have an unoccupied evening. After supper, the night belonged to you.
And, in turn, Harwin.
At least by invitation.
Since Harwin was your personal guard, it meant he was the only person outside of your family to enter your bedchamber without permission. It was for safety reasons, of course, in the event you were gravely ill, or hurt, or unresponsive to knocking, your personal guard was allowed to come in and check on you.
Before leaving, you left a note for him. It read:
Find me in the abandoned tower
Short, sweet, and direct.
The summer heat still lingered after sunset. A cool salty breeze rolled in from Blackwater Bay, however, and made a refreshing change from the day’s sun.
This forgotten tower had a sort of beauty to it: tall narrow windows let plenty of moonlight in, patterns carved into their frames, and a hearth worthy of a roaring fire. The tower had been partially damaged and deemed “unsafe”, but since then no effort had been made to fix it up. You weren’t even sure who last kept it–the servants, septas, kingsguard? Someone else entirely? Whatever the case, it was old and tucked behind stone corridors rarely used. The once lovely wooden door was warped with age and difficult to open.
It was all to your advantage; no one would imagine looking for a Targaryen princess here. Especially after dark.
You sat on one of the window sills and waited. Tonight, beneath a simple robe, you wore nothing. You meant to have all of Harwin tonight. If it meant presenting yourself to him like this, then the Gods would have it. Would he have you? Anticipation built in your belly and you smiled.
It didn’t take Harwin long to arrive. Seeing you free of a cloak prompted him to take his own off as well. “Princess,” he said, closing the distance between you in a few long strides.
With an arch of a brow you said, “you’re late.”
One of his hands came to rest delicately on your jaw, and he brushed the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “I sincerely apologize for making the lady wait,” he replied, voice low and edged with humor. The corners of his eyes crinkled, smirking.
“If you are truly sorry then don’t make me wait again,” you retorted, turning your head just enough to nip the pad of his thumb.
“Never again.”
Bravely, you opened your thighs and hooked one leg around him, pulling him into you. “Tell me Ser Harwin, have you been able to stop thinking about our stolen kiss? Because I haven’t. Your mouth, your hands, is all I think about as I drift off to sleep. As I pray on my knees in the Sept…,” your voice softened to a whisper, leg flexing to close the proximity of your bodies even more.
An unrestrained male sound vibrated in his throat at your admission. The way you were sitting, and the way your leg held him against you, made the hem of your robe slip higher upon your thighs. He didn’t know where to look. His throat bobbed before he answered, “it has lingered in my mind every second of the day.”
You knew he was as wild about you as you were him.
“You are dragonfire. I fear if I were to touch you how I really wish to touch you, that I would burn.” He spoke softly, yet it carried enough weight to fill the room.
The masculine rasp of his voice sent goosebumps tickling your skin. “Then burn,” you whispered against his mouth, simultaneously kissing him and shrugging out of your silken robe. You swallowed his gasp. Again, you curled your fingers into his tunic and pulled him down to you.
He was helpless to stop you–restraint, gone–he might be standing, but he was already on his knees for you. His kiss was pure surrender. “Wrap both legs around me,” he whispered, grazing his mouth along the elegant slope of your neck.
The scratch of his facial hair sent your back arching, breasts no longer pressed against his clean tunic. You heard another groan from him, this time from deeper in his chest, and you knew without looking that he was looking down the front of your body, to your tits on perfect display. Obeying, you wrapped both legs around his solid waist.
Fuck–the hard planes of his body felt so good.
A large hand grazed up your ribs and he paused short of fully palming your tit. Instead he held his hand there, feeling the weight of your soft mound against his touch. “Gods. Where do I even start with you?” Leaning down he kissed your chest, absolutely reveling in how your flesh softened the lower he went. He teased your perked nipple with his lips, savoring the sensation of the pebbled skin, before licking it and drawing it into his mouth. Your blissed sigh was a sacred vow. Both arms wrapped around you, then, and he braced himself to carry you across the room.
Carefully he lowered to a sheet-covered chair. You didn’t care if dust poofed off from the protective sheet. Desire, want, and need coursed through your bloodstream, mixing into a dangerous swirl of lust. He was still fully clothed and that was far too much. You helped pull his tunic free from his belt. Then, with it untucked you aided in pulling it up and over his head. His body was glorious. Tanned skin, a fit abdomen, dark hair peppered over him, and thick arms that ended in those wonderfully calloused hands. Your breathless smile and wild eyes was all the kindling he needed.
“You are a dream,” he said as he slowly drank you in. Your skin bathed in moonlight, silver hair partially mussed, the curves and contours of your body. “Have you ever been with a man before?” He asked as he unbuckled his belt and unlaced the front of his trousers. He made no move to remove them yet, and simply let them hang open low on his pelvis.
“I have,” you answered honestly.
Another low sound rumbled in his chest as his eyes darkened again. “Good. I don’t think I could be that gentle tonight.”
It was your turn to whimper. Those low muscles in your belly clenched, the delicate space between your thighs turning molten. “I don’t want you to be gentle.”
Harwin sunk to his knees before you and looked up at you like you were a Goddess of Old Valyria. Carefully, he spread your thighs. “You mentioned the Sept earlier… you won’t find me there on my own accord, Princess, but this altar?” He spread your legs further apart, cunt fully exposed to his hungry gaze. “I will happily pray.” He looped his arms under your thighs and pulled you down to the edge of the chair. The perfect place for him to simply lean forward and bury his face in you.
“You would worship me?” You asked through a shuddering breath; the sight of your big, strong, ever-protective knight on his knees making lightning crackle through you.
“I already am.” He leaned forward and placed open-mouthed kisses all along your most sensitive flesh. Down, then up, and over again, he kissed until one of your hands pushed through his hair and pulled his mouth firmly against you. Smirking to himself, he licked over your budded clit. Your taste flooded his senses. If he hadn’t already been starving for you, that single taste would have been all it took to send him into a frenzy. “Fuck you’re so wet. Is all this for me?”
Nodding, you answered, tone dripping with desperation, “yes! Don’t you dare stop now.”
And so Harwin didn’t. He licked, and lapped, and sucked with the perfect pressure to send your eyes rolling closed and head tipping back. Each gasp, and moan, and whimper set his devotion in stone. He looked up at you as he devoured you, his eyes adoring as they were fierce–‘I love doing this to you,’ they said, and ‘I’ll do this any time you want,’ they also said.
You were lost to the pleasure of his tongue. Speechless to the awe you saw in his upturned gaze. For a brief moment you wondered what you looked like to him in these moments. But, they were fleeting thoughts for there was little room for anything other than him in your mind. An orgasm began to build in your core; all the bodily signs were there, and Harwin read them perfectly.
He easily slipped a finger inside you. Even that, even the feel of your body wrapped around his single finger, was enough to drive him wild. He moaned deeply, appreciatively, before adding a second. The jolt of your body had his tongue working with renewed fervor on your clit. With a turn of his wrist he curled his fingers inside you, and the wet sounds his finger fucking created sent a scorching blush to bloom beneath your face.
Your hands squeezed into fists in his hair. “Yes, yes, yes,” you whispered breathily behind moans. “I’m gonna–!”
He moaned as he sucked your clit, fingers keeping the same angle and pace, urging you to peak.
Climax trembled through your body. You saw stars through the rush of sensation. Harwin eased deliciously slow. Rising, he kissed across your collarbone, your neck, your jaw, as you came down from that natural high. When you caught your breath and looked at him, you were light headed. “I want all of you.”
Harwin was already stepping out of his pants. His cock was iron-hard with want and balls heavy with need.
Attempting to stand on wobbly legs, you reached for him. “Let me taste you too.”
Immediately he grabbed your wrist and held it away. “Next time. I need to be inside you right now.”
If you were less dazed his reaction might have offended you. But, it turns out orgasms are a great way to subdue a Targaryen princess.
“Turn around and put one of your legs on the arm of the chair,” he said in a voice that reminded you of the way he talks to trainees.
Doing as he said, you kept one knee planted on the seat and one on the arm. He ran a palm down the natural arch of your back and you arched even deeper, holding onto the back of the chair as you presented yourself to him. Knowing you were fully bared to him had a blush in your face and recklessness in your heart. When you were like this, on display for Harwin “Breakbones” with his grip digging into the meat of your hip, you didn’t care what your family would say.
“You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe you’re letting me do this to you,” he praised from above and behind. Lining himself with your drenched center, he eased his cock into you. The hot, saturated wrap of your body sent his neck tipping forward in pure, utter surrender.
He’d give you all of himself. No matter what you asked. When you moaned in time with his own, he was absolutely helpless to you.
“Gods above–,” he growled, pushing deeper. The walls of your cunt yielded to his intrusion and the subtle resistance was fucking magical. Dragging his heavy cock out, it glistened with your slick in the moonlight–a sight he’d never forget.
“What? Afraid you’ll break me?” You asked over your shoulder, taunting.
He gripped onto your hips harder accepting the challenge.
Together you moved slow at first, bodies acclimating to each other. Soon, though, you were meeting his thrusts halfway and the sounds of your wet skin slapping together sent your lust roaring.
You pushed back against his cock for your own greedy pleasure. “Feels so good,” you whimpered through moans; wanton desire making you bold.
Harwin was past the point of words, now, low guttural murmurs the only thing he seemed capable of as he pounded in and out of you. Never in his life would he have thought you had this side to you. Although, he did have an inkling that you might be too much for any sane man. If that made him insane, then so be it.
The exquisite build up of your fucking had you falling out of pace with him. Soon it was all you could do to sink forward and keep your ass propped up, letting him ram you with whatever speed and rhythm he fell into. Weeks of wanting, months of yearning, and all those ‘almosts’ fueled this tryst between you two. If you had it your way–you had a feeling Harwin would indeed agree–this would be the first of many. Perhaps even the first of a truly forbidden relationship within the tree of your royal family.
“‘M close, princess,” he rasped, squeezing one of your bouncing tits. “Where can I–?”
“My back,” you answered, panting and breathless. “I’m close too.”
He couldn’t hold it back any longer. The tremble of your thighs, the sounds of your pleasure, the sight of your cunt swallowing him whole over and over, sent him over the edge. Pulling out just in time, he spilled his seed all over your asscheeks and glorious small of back.
You barely had time to register his climax as you mourned the emptiness of your cunny. Before dissatisfaction could settle in your clenching core, however, he plunged two fingers as deep as they could go.
You were so sensitive, so close to peak, that the sensation of those digits made you squeal in surprise. You squirmed, pushing back against his hand for any ounce of added pressure, and gave him your orgasm. Sloppy, wet, wholly satisfying.
When both of your breathing became normal again, you shared a look of mutual adoration. A laugh of bliss followed–something light-hearted after the thorough fuck he gave you.
Carefully, he gathered you in his arms and sat back on the chair with you across his lap. “You are perfect,” he said, kissing your brow.
You tried to memorize his face in these quiet post-climax moments. Tried to memorize the way his firm chest felt beneath your curious touch, how his chest hair gently rasped against your smooth fingertips. “Whoever they choose for me to marry… I won’t do it.” You finally admitted, whisper soft; intimate.
“That won’t stop them from trying. You were born to marry for status. To bring further power and wealth to the Targaryen line, to make an alliance, widen the reach of politics.”
“As if I am merely a pretty, valuable thing to be traded off to the richest coffer.”
The look you shared in the quiet moonlight was sad. And the kiss that followed, sad as well.
Harwin cradled your face, thumb grazing over your cheek. “They cannot steal your secrets, Princess, no matter how deep they run.”
You knew a Strong couldn’t sit next to a Targaryen in marriage. But here, with your sated bodies pressed together, you imagined it could happen. And that, if only for tonight, filled you with promise.
-
Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or comment, and/or letting me know another way! It ALL makes me vvvery happy! ♥
They can try, and spend absurd amounts of money, and they might even make absurd amounts of money back, but we all know the real metric of cultural relevance.
Firstly, when you get this, you have to answer with 5 things you like about yourself, publicly. Then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers//non-negotiable, positivity is cool
You’re killing me sis, I have to publicly like myself???
Lmao I kid I kid but for real… this was a head scratcher, why does that always happen when you’re asked about yourself 🤣
1. I make jokes that I’m either the meanest kind person or the kindest mean person you’ve ever met, I like that even with my people pleaser tendencies, I can be an absolute dickhead when necessary
2. Which leads us to 2, my meanness is often directed at other mean people to defend others or myself and I’m glad for that. I like that I’m finally learning to speak my truth even when my voice shakes, I don’t like confrontation but I don’t take disrespect and I’m proud I got to this point even with more progress to be made ❤️🩹
3. I’m hopeful, I don’t know how but I am and even when I feel like the world is the ugliest it’s ever been in my life, I hold on to the fact that I believe we can be better and we can make our world better
4. I’m a problem solver and I can see things other’s can’t, sometimes it’s a problem in itself because I’m not always listened to but with the issues I’ve come across, I’ve generally been able to solve the problem or find someone to help me solve the problem
5. I’m a resilient ass bitch y’all, I don’t know how I’m still standing some days but part of me knows it’s because I’m here for something beyond the suffering and I made a promise to myself years ago that nothing would take me down until I find my purpose and fulfill it. I think it’s because this quote has lived with me since high school…
“there are two great days in a person's life - the day we are born and the day we discover why”
So sorry but I’m at work on a short break and I’m being terribly lazy so will just tag y’all… you can reblog with your own self love lol (whether it’s under the tagged name or your side blog)
What a cute, fun game! Thanks for the tag lovelies @schniiipsel & @zeciex 🫶🏼
K – Keep Your American Dream by Beartooth
A – Ambitionz Az A Ridah by Tupac
E – Existential Dread by Nothing More
L – Long Violent History by Tyler Childers
A – Any Man Of Mine by Shania Twain
•
T – tv off by Kendrick Lamar
A – A Country Boy Can Survive by Hank Williams Jr
R – Riders On The Storm by The Doors
G – Go To War by Nothing More
A – Already Dead by I Prevail
R – Retrograde by Maggie Rogers
Y – You’ll Never Leave Harlan Alive by Darrell Scott
E – Eazy-Duz-It by Eazy-E
N – No Vaseline by Ice Cube
and because some of them are too good but don’t fit this handle, I’m gunna do my other too 🤣
V – Voices In My Head by Falling In Reverse
E – End Of Me by A Day To Remember
R – Reckless by the Strike
M – Million Dollar Baby by Ava Max
I – In The Name Of Love by Martin Garrix & Bebe Rexha
T – The Seed by Aurora
H – Hit Em Up by Tupac
O – Oh Daddy by Fleetwood Mac
T – This Could Be Anywhere In The World by Alexisonfire
@aemondsbabygirl @qyburnsghost @sapphire-writes @zaldritzosrose @tumblin-theworldaway @adragonprinceswhore @barbieaemond @exitpursuedbyavulcan @fishfooddude and anyone else who wants to give it a shot lol
you CANNOT read too much old timey fiction because I was playing Raft with the lads this morning and without a THOUGHT said we could sail over to another island "if the wind would consent to blow" & let me tell you. This did not pass by unremarked.
Alright, coming out of rot girl summer to say… I’ve seen the set leak and based on the clothing, I’d be willing to bet that it is young Aemond, pre Driftmark. I’m not having a Charlie moment and going to connect all the exact dots but it is noticeable that they’ve alluded to a sexual tension/attraction with Daemon & Alicent from the first episode. There have been several scenes with them that have made me go 🤨 and with the announcement that there would be a major diversion from the books, I wouldn’t be surprised if this is it
Some of y’all go too far when opinions differ so I’ve never actually pointed out my unpopular opinion until last season with the Harrenhal Daemond vision because most of the scenes can be explained away as different perceptions of what is being shown but the first time I truly questioned whether Daemon could have a secret child is during the Driftmark aftermath. There are a few times where the camera pans to Daemon where the dialogue and situations are very suggestive, especially the moment Viserys refuses to defend Aemond and the camera pans to Daemon
The vibes I get is the camera is us and we’re watching this volley and if you were actually in this situation and suspected Daemon and Alicent, would you not look to see how the man who can’t do anything for his son reacts to the man who can and chooses not to do anything?
I’ve always suspected this but it’s so far off from the established book storyline, even compared to some of the changes they made already so I never let myself believe it but with Daemon’s betrayal in season 2 and the set video, I would not be surprised to find out that Daemon has been working alongside the greens this entire time to put his son on the throne if it couldn’t be himself.
1. Because I don’t think show Daemon has ever truly loved Rhaenyra — he deliberately left her alone in a brothel, exposed and rejected after going through lengths to keep their identities hidden until that moment
2. Aemond is closer to the throne and could more reasonably be accepted than his toddler children would be.
3. I think he’s always wanted Alicent and hated Criston for his access to her, not Rhaenyra.
I’m sure there will be diehard Daemon fans that want to argue this but I don’t care, it’s a funny idea and I’m curious to see how it plays out. Daemon is looking too inquisitively at the figure in the video for the child to not mean something to him. Considering how similar the actor looks to Ewan, I wouldn’t be surprised if it is Daeron and he’s also Daemon’s son. The severity of Viserys’ illness around the time they were both conceived makes it seem reasonable that Viserys could not actually impregnate anyone.
Even further, considering Viserys’ fertility issues with Aemma and Daemon’s weird resentment, I would cackle if all of Alicent’s children are actually Daemon’s 😆
Just a reminder this is just a fun theory in a FANDOM space so if y’all are so triggered you’re fixing your fingers to type up an essay to argue with me, just know I don’t care and I won’t engage because y’all are grown and should be able to accept different ideas that don’t harm or even really effect you 🫶🏼
** slight edit due to a reminder of the Dany vision from @aemondsbabygirl — I think Alys is going to be on the black side and her purpose was to bring Daemon back on side by telling him that his descendent is the Promised and I think she will be used to distract Aemond more than being a love interest
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