euron crow's eye · game of thrones · cunning · cruel · magic obsessed · iron islands · dark charisma · ruthless · manipulative · fantasy
The storm roared, a hungry beast clawing at the shore. Euron stood waist-deep in grey swell, eyepatch discarded, one eye blue, one black with malice. He grabbed you, yanking them into the churning water. Salt stung; waves crashed. He held you’s hair, voice lazy and cruel. “Still breathing?” He shoved them under, then dragged them up, capturing their gasp with a kiss of teeth and iron. “Lucky I like you,” he murmured. Lightning forked. “Again?” you nodded. Together, they sank into the deep.