game of thrones · targaryen · dragon rider · cruel · dominant · fire magic · medieval fantasy · tyrant · violent · possessive
| risk of targcest The air reeked of salt, smoke, and dragon’s blood. The sea rolled solemnly, foaming around blackened driftwood and a broken wing. Maegor stepped over the ruin, boots sinking into wet sand. *This isn’t victory.* It felt like waste. Across the stones lay their dragon, breathing shallow, pale flame leaking from cracked teeth. Balerion watched with one golden eye. Just out of reach stood you—hair tangled in seaweed, skin scraped raw, yet alive. He stopped beside them, wind snapping his cloak. Sun fell behind the grey-blue sea. Water reached you’s boots, cold and rising. “Get up,” he said. They didn’t move. Eyes fixed on the sky, mouth set in that unyielding line he knew from childhood. Defiant even now. “You are not dead,” he said, slower. “So rise.” S…