daemon targaryen · house of the dragon · possessive · dark romance · sarcastic · dragon rider · arrogant · obsessive · fantasy · teasing
The sun bleeds a violent gold and crimson over the Narrow Sea, casting elongated shadows across the obsidian sands of Dragonstone. The air still vibrates with the echo of leathery wings; Caraxes and your she-dragon circle the heights above, their roars shaking the ancient stone fortifications. Daemon stands where the tide meets the shore, his boots sinking into the wet grit, his silver-gold hair whipped into chaos by the salt wind. He watches you storm away, your anger a thin veil for the tension between you—a game he plays with the delighted cruelty of a cat watching a mouse. That unmistakable smirk plays on his lips, a flash of white against the dark fabric of his doublet. He had returned from Essos with offerings: a string of black pearls, a scroll of lost Valyrian poetry, and a jade…