𝖘𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖉 𝖘𝖔𝖓. @drgnfiire - Tumblr Blog

𝖉𝖗𝖌𝖓𝖋𝖎𝖎𝖗𝖊 ; an independent and highly selective daemon targaryen blog from the house of the dragon series. written by decimus, 30+, qpoc, any pronouns. themes explored include: the duality of greatness and monstrosity, violent codependency and blood-soaked intimacy, the crippling envy of a permanent second son, rot and decay within royal walls, lingering battle shock and emotional detachment, the heavy toll of endless paranoia, valyrian blood obsession, losing oneself to the shadow of the throne, giving up the flesh for power, absolute loneliness, and the self-destructive hunger to burn a name into history.

WISHLIST. SONGS. MEMES.

rules,

#PINNED POST: DO NOT INTERACT.#UPDATED 07.29.2026.

thunderousmemes

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐓𝐎𝐗𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒 — 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

(obsession, ruin, twisted devotion, and the kind of love that bruises)

POSSESSIVE • “MINE EVEN WHEN YOU RUN”

• “Walk out that door and I swear I’ll drag you right back.” • “Don’t look at them. Look at me.” • “You’re not leaving. Not without me.” • “You knew I was dangerous when you touched me.” • “Keep pretending you don’t want me. I like watching you fail.” • “If you run, I will find you.” • “Come here. Now. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

OBSESSION • UNHEALTHY DEVOTION

• “I’d destroy myself for you… isn’t that what you wanted?” • “Tell me you hate me—say it like your hands aren’t shaking.” • “I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s becoming a problem.” • “You ruin me, and I still crawl back.” • “We’re wrong together… but gods, we fit.” • “If you leave, I’ll follow. I always do.” • “You’re the only addiction I never tried to quit.”

MANIPULATION • POWER GAMES

• “Call it manipulation if you want. I call it control.” • “Careful. I know every lie you’ve ever told.” • “You don’t trust me? Good. You shouldn’t.” • “I never said you couldn’t leave. I just said you wouldn’t.” • “You’re trembling—don’t pretend it’s fear.” • “I like watching you try to resist me.” • “You depend on me more than you think.”

PUSH/PULL • CAN’T STAY, CAN’T LEAVE

• “Every time I get close, you run. Yet here you are again.” • “We’re toxic… but I can’t breathe without this.” • “I should stay away from you. So why am I here?” • “Hate me all you want—you still want me.” • “We destroy each other, slowly.” • “Tell me why you always come back.” • “Push me one more time and see what breaks first—me or you.”

BETRAYAL • LIES • PAINFUL LONGING

• “You promised you wouldn’t hurt me. You lied.” • “Don’t act surprised—betrayal is how we communicate.” • “You used me… and I let you.” • “You weren’t supposed to fall for me. That wasn’t part of the deal.” • “You stabbed me in the back and still expect to be forgiven?” • “We lied to each other. And we’re still here.” • “If you want the truth… I never planned on letting you go.”

TOXIC SOFTNESS • DANGEROUS COMFORT

• “Stay with me. Even if it ruins us.” • “I hate how gentle you are with me.” • “Don’t look at me like that… I’ll break.” • “You make me want things I shouldn’t.” • “I should push you away. I won’t.” • “You feel like home—and that terrifies me.” • “I’m bad for you… but you keep choosing me.”

DAMAGE • BREAKING POINTS

• “If this burns, then let it burn all the way down.” • “We’re killing each other softly.” • “Tell me when to stop. I probably won’t.” • “If you want me gone, you’ll have to shove harder than that.” • “Maybe we’re not meant to heal.” • “You bring out the worst in me.” • “Let’s ruin each other properly.”

#MEMES.

young rhaenyra writers where ya at?!

#WISHLIST.#i miss my fierce girl and her pretty fashion sense #truly #also i loved the unresolved sexual tension back then with her and dae~

witchyxwoo

rhaena had always been the one more on her own, the more quiet girl. she had been seen as dutiful, sure. but deep inside her soul were insecurities. whether unintentional or not her circumstances in life had contributed to them growing over the years. a targaryen born without a dragon and the only one in her immediate family without one. hearing all the boasts about them from others made her flash a pretend smile. but all rhaena had was an unhatched and mere visualizations of what a dragonrider's life could be like.

all attempts to bond with other dragons had been entirely unsuccessful. she'd been injured during her last attempt on dragonstone before she'd been told to stop. there hadn't been any other dragons at the time for her to consider claiming anyways. so she'd kept to herself and kept up appearances. but that day as they'd left the vale had changed everything for rhaena. the idea of a new dragon she hadn't met yet, even if wild, had taken over her mind. she had run off to the fields and mountains with a singular goal in mind. of course she had eventually succeeded, somewhat anyways.

it had taken time, but with enough sheep rhaena had been able to climb atop sheepstealer's back. it felt scary and freeing all at the same time. however, going to dragonstone and then taking the detour into that battle had changed everything. she had tried to give out orders, but her bond with sheepstealer had been so new. of course the status of being a wild dragon contributed to that even more. rhaena knew what had happened and together with the dragon she'd put herself into exile. this was her new way of life now.

rhaena had walked out towards the sunlight from the depths of her cave, face downward, to face her father. her silver hair had been mostly chopped off with the remains appearing to be covered in a lot of soot. of course her clothes had become a bit ragged too. but now she heard those words back and had relaxed her hands. sheepstealer stirred in the backs of the cave which only caused rhaena to look back. when she realized he wasn't coming out she turned her head to finally look at her father.

"i am on my own and i have embraced that, along with him," she referred to the dragon. rhaena had waited far too long for this to happen. despite what had happened at the battle she just knew she couldn't go back. she had no expectations for what he'd do, or rather try to do. "do not ask me to go to king's landing." rhaena's words were direct, but it had been exactly what needed to be said.

drgnfiire

daemon had expected refusal long before she ever gave it voice, because there had been something final in the way she stepped from the cave, as though the woman standing before him had already buried the girl who once searched every room for signs that her father might finally see her. there was no plea hidden behind her words, no invitation for persuasion, only the simple declaration of someone who had already created her future with her own hands and would sooner let the mountains claim her than surrender it to another. it should not have surprised him. after all, she was his daughter, and if the realm insisted upon denying a targaryen what belonged to them, there had always been only one sensible response: take something greater instead.

his attention drifted past her, where the scrape of ancient scales against stone carried outward before fading once more. sheepstealer remained where he was, content to watch rather than announce himself, and daemon found that he respected the beast for it. there had never been dignity in dragons eager to perform for men, and this one possessed no interest whatsoever in proving himself worthy of admiration. old, ill-tempered, and beholden to no rider until rhaena had accomplished what wiser people would have dismissed as impossible, sheepstealer had chosen exactly the daughter everyone else had overlooked.

a terrible grin threatened the corner of his mouth despite everything.

"of course you found each other," he uttered, "the realm spent years telling both of you what you could never become, and now it trembles because neither of you listened."

the smile disappeared as quickly as it had come, leaving behind something altogether less comfortable, because there were truths that admitted no kinder telling, and rhaena deserved better than another lifetime of carefully chosen half-truths.

"i will not ask you to return to king's landing-- you cannot. we know exactly what would happen if you did. rhaenyra has declared the rider of sheepstealer an outlaw, and whether i agree with every corner of that decision is no longer the question before us. she wears the conqueror's crown now, and a queen cannot allow the realm to believe that dragons answer only to whoever proves bold enough to climb onto their backs. if she falters on that, every lord still weighing where to place his loyalty will scent weakness."

he drew a slow breath, finding little comfort in the certainty of his own reasoning, "i gave her my sword, my dragon, and every oath a man can offer another before the gods, and i will not be remembered as the husband who taught his queen that loyalty lasts only until it becomes inconvenient. i have broken enough promises in my life without adding that one to the tally."

his gaze fell upon rhaena once again, lingering not upon the soot that streaked across her face nor the uneven remains of silver hair sacrificed to mountain winds and dragonfire, but upon the expression she wore with such stubborn resolve that, for one impossible instant, he saw traces of the child who had once looked at every passing dragon with yearning so carefully hidden that most had never noticed it at all. he had noticed; he simply had not done enough.

"but do not mistake my remaining beside rhaenyra for leaving you to fend for yourself," he continued, voice losing none of its firmness even as something more sentimental found its way crawling underneath it, something that belonged neither to prince nor commander. "those are not the same thing, however often i have behaved as though they were."

his eyes shifted once more toward the cave, thoughtful now rather than guarded, "sheepstealer is no court-raised dragon who spent his life answering to dragonkeepers and waiting patiently for commands. every lesson you were given on dragonstone will carry you only so far before he reminds you that he survived centuries without anyone fastening a saddle across his back, and there will come a day when instinct outweighs affection and you will need more than courage to remain upon him."

#DAEMON&RHAENA.#witchyxwoo

grab my muse’s jaw & direct their gaze towards yours

rhaenyra had inherited many things from her father, though hesitation had never truly been one of them. she questioned when others accepted, challenged when silence would have earned easier praise, and carried herself with the certainty of someone born knowing the iron throne had been promised to her. nonetheless, even she had moments when doubt found its way through the cracks left behind by court whispers and sidelong glances, each lord convinced he knew better than the realm's chosen heir.

daemon recognized that look long before anyone else ever could.

his hand reached her first, fingers pressing just under her jaw with surprising care before turning her face until there remained nowhere for her attention to wander except him. no force was needed; she had followed him through dragonstone's smoking cliffs as a child, through the corridors of the red keep, through conversations where everyone else had spoken to the princess while daemon alone addressed the future queen. the touch lingered only long enough to make certain she was looking at him rather than whatever pains had stolen her thoughts.

"there you are," he smirked rather fondly, "i was beginning to wonder whether the court had finally managed to convince you that their opinions deserved consideration."

his thumb brushed once along the line of her cheek, more absent than purposeful, though there existed precious few souls within the seven kingdoms who would ever receive such familiarity from him without consequence. daemon had never possessed much patience for ceremony where rhaenyra was concerned. the realm insisted upon placing crowns, titles, and expectations between them-- but he had known her before courtiers began closely observing every breath she drew, before every smile became another piece in someone else's game.

"look at me," he murmured again, though she already was. "not at otto hightower, nor whichever lord has discovered fresh reasons why a woman cannot inherit what your father has already placed into your hands."

a faint laugh escaped him, touched with ridicule meant for everyone except her.

"they mistake noise for strength. let them. while they spend their days talking themselves into circles, you'll still have syrax... and you'll still have me." @drcgnrider

#DAEMON&RHAENYRA.#i was thinking pre-dance for this bc i enjoy the build up!#thank you for sending #drcgnrider

fiirescaled

@drgnfiire liked for a starter.

the blood wyrm rises.

a serpentine neck slithers from the shadows, scales as red as a festering wound. and many a blood has been spilt by the great caraxes. crimson lips pull back, teeth like blades giving the impression of a grin. the will to fight always pulses through his veins, through every cell that makes up his titanic body.

"come to me." he says through their bond, almost as thick as familial blood. "i need to fly. i need to feel the wind and taste the tang of the air above."

drgnfiire

daemon had always preferred the sort of places respectable men condemned in daylight and sought after once the sun disappeared beyond the rooftops of king's landing. wine flowed without restraint, laughter danced from one room to the next, and musicians coaxed life from battered strings while silk brushed against skin and gold disappeared into eager hands. it was honest in its own fashion. no one bothered pretending to be anything other than what desire made them.

he lounged across a carved chair with a cup of arbor red turning lazily between his fingers, listening to a girl recount some embellished tale she'd heard about the rogue prince carving his way through half the city over a gambling dispute. daemon let her speak without correcting a single detail, amused by how stories became grander each time another mouth carried them onward. if men wished to invent monsters, he saw little reason to rob them of the entertainment.

then the world shrank.

not because anyone had spoken aloud, nor because the music had ceased, but because another presence brushed against his thoughts with familiar insistence, old as the first day dragon and rider had truly become one. come to me.

a grin found daemon's face before he realized it had happened.

"impatient today, are we?" he murmured under his breath, earning puzzled glances from those nearest him, though the question belonged to no one inside the room.

he had known that hunger himself often enough. there were mornings when the red keep became little more than another gilded prison, its corridors too narrow, its politics too tedious, every conversation circling itself until he found himself longing for open sky and dragonfire instead of another lord eager to hear his own voice. no feast, no bed, no victory in court had ever matched the exhilaration waiting beyond the city walls, where the world stretched wide beneath crimson wings and the clouds welcomed only those born to command them.

daemon rose without explanation, leaving untouched wine behind as a handful of gold dragons clattered across the table. complaints followed him, playful rather than offended, promises that the night was still young, but they never slowed his stride. he had never possessed the patience for remaining where he no longer wished to be.

by the time he crossed into the evening streets, anticipation had already begun crawling through him. somewhere beyond the city, caraxes waited, restless as only the blood wyrm could be, eager to carve through the heavens until sea, mountain, and kingdom became little more than passing scenery.

daemon lifted his gaze toward the horizon, where he knew the great dragon would soon appear. "i'm coming," he answered through the bond, "try not to set half the countryside aflame before i arrive. i'd rather save that pleasure for us together."

#DAEMON&CARAXES.#love them berry much!#fiirescaled

littler3d

I love that Vermithor was like “RAWR You must impress me with your bravery or I will BURN AND EAT you” and Silverwing was like “good morning pathetic looking man you will do”

#MUN THINGS.#gods i love vermithor my TUFF BABY #got one more episode to catch up on then i will be here to write finally~

need to catch up on the show then i shall be back to answer the dms and inbox things! c:

#MUN THINGS.

noahsresources

M/M SMUT GIF COLLECTION: REVAMP !

hey everyone! some of y'all may be familiar with my m/m nsfw gif collection posts, but given that the host site has deleted gifs i linked in both posts, i figured it was best to make another post with the rest of the available gifs using static just so they aren't randomly deleted! this is also my first time using static for memes, so let me know if you have any issues accessing the gifs!

extremely nsfw, minors do not interact! gifs courtesy of this site!

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20] [21] [22] [23] [24] [25] [26] [27] [28] [29] [30] [31] [32] [33] [34] [35] [36] [37] [38] [39] [40] [41] [42] [43] [44] [45] [46] [47] [48] [49] [50] [51] [52] [53] [54] [55] [56] [57] [58] [59] [60] [61] [62] [63] [64]

#MEMES.#usfw

selfsaving

AGGRESSION // SEXUAL TENSION .

acts that could be aggressive // or a little bit sexy // or both. send a symbol from your muse to mine. feel free to combine actions or add specifics even when it doesn’t ask for it ! can send non - sexually as well.

THREATENING

🔪 // put a knife to my muse’s throat .

🖐️ // put a hand around my muse’s throat .

👕 // slide a weapon up under my muse’s shirt ( can specify ) .

👔 // grab my muse by the collar & pull them closer .

🔒 // lock my muse in a room alone with your muse .

🗩 // verbally threaten my muse ( please specify ) .

PINNING

🔙 // push my muse against a wall .

📌 // pin my muse’s wrists above their head .

🔵 // grab my muse hard enough to leave a bruise .

🔑 // handcuff my muse .

➰ // tie my muse to a chair .

⭕ // restrain my muse with an item of clothing ( please specify ) .

🚨 // push my muse to the ground & straddle them .

📢 // tell my muse ‘ stop squirming ! ’ .

🔗 // otherwise restrain my muse ( please specify ) .

LIGHTER

👀 // grab my muse’s jaw & direct their gaze towards yours .

⚡ // tug my muse’s hair .

⚠️ // bite my muse ( can specify where ) .

😏 // give my muse a hickey .

✂️ // run fingernails over my muse’s skin & scratch them .

💦 // cover my muse’s mouth .

DARKER

💋 // give my muse a kiss that draws blood .

🗡️ // cut my muse with a knife ( can specify where ) .

💀 // kidnap my muse .

😶 // put a hand over my muse’s nose & mouth .

💥 // tighten something around my muse’s throat that restricts their blood - flow / oxygen supply ( please specify ) .

#MEMES.#usfw

rpmemes-galore

the tudors : season 1 ... sentence starters

"I hear you're a poet."

"Now you are blasphemous!"

"Lady, desire overcomes all."

"Have I made you unhappy?"

"Don't tease me. I don't like it."

"Have you no kind things to say?"

"Your grace goes too far. Already."

"You should know, you taught me."

"Madam, you should never presume…"

"I hear you've been unwell? Is it true?"

"Well, the King is plainly in love with you."

"Do you really think we should go to war?"

"The thing I care for most is my integrity."

"Forgive me, I spoke of things I should not."

"Of course I loved her, but from a distance."

"You gave me your promise! I was free to choose."

"When was I ever unwell enough not to serve you?"

"Oh, I hope so. I certainly do hope so, for your sake."

"I didn't see all of his game. Now I do. I despise him."

"Your love is most generous where it is most hurtful."

"You treat me so unkindly and, in public, neglect me."

"What would a silly girl like you have to say to a king?"

"I won't have a thought or an affection for anyone else."

"I think we should try to do as the King wants us to do."

"I would only be unhappy if you ever stopped loving me."

"Should I like something that accuses me of being cruel?"

"What if the King doesn't know what's in his best interests?"

"Some people might think so. He certainly thinks so himself."

"You will remove yourself from my sight. Do you understand?"

"What we lack in men, we can more than make up for in ships."

"We shall drop our truth into the scales… and the scales will fall."

"You and I must stay in the king's good graces or we are nothing."

"I made no promise! You are mistaken! How dare you look at me?"

"I have yet to decide whether to make your bedmate a head shorter."

"As a humanist, I share your opinion. As a King, I'm forced to disagree."

"I believed with all my heart that he would return to reason, but now, I…"

"Look, I don't mean he is banished forever. Just as long as he breathes."

"I almost believe that I would sacrifice my kingdom for an hour in your arms."

"You must be prepared to give him the thing you most care for, in all the world."

"Trust me. It will make you feel sick, but it's better than the sickness it prevents."

"I'm not so vain as to display its power, but I'll tell you this: I fully intend to use it."

"And it is now in your power to do him a great hurt, and we expect you to do so."

"Your highness must be looking forward with great anticipation to your wedding?"

"On the contrary, the people love their queen and they have every reason to do so."

"Yes, I must forgive you, I must always forgive you, but I grow tired of forgiving you!"

"I have the same claim as every other lover to whom their heart has been freely given."

"A shrewd man. A businessman. He left me a great deal of money. I intend to spend it!"

"I don't think anything, but I imagine everything. And what I imagine causes me great pain."

"My friend, if all ambassadors were beautiful women I'd be serving my country day and night."

"Perhaps you don't understand. But I can't sleep. I can hardly breathe, for thinking of you."

"You liked him enough once, when he helped us back to court… Or were you just being cynical?"

"There's something deep and dangerous in you. Those eyes of yours are like dark hooks for the soul."

"I care nothing for her. I would rather see her hanged than acknowledge her as my mistress!"

"I give you leave that we may always speak freely with each other, honestly, openly and with a true heart."

"Though I love Your Majesty and I'm loyal to you, in every way, I cannot disguise my distress and unhappiness."

"As a humanist, I have an abhorrence of war. It's an activity fit only for beasts, yet practiced by no kind of beasts so constantly as by man."

#MEMES.

witchyxwoo

to claim a dragon later in life... rhaena targaryen

written by adrienne, 21+ mun, she/her indie multimuse rp blog open to show canon, AUs, crossovers, etc (this includes plots with morning the dragon)

#PROMO.

more interactions with daemon and witches tbh. he's just oh so entertaining with them and i find he's better paired off with someone whimsical, powerful, yet also terribly unbothered lmao.

#WISHLIST.#he needs adventure and crazy in his life at all times

❛ i won't ask you to love me. ❜

the words earned nothing from daemon at first beyond the faint narrowing of pale eyes, as though he could somehow decide whether they had truly been spoken or whether the wind weaving through dragonstone's cliffs had chosen that moment to mock him. dragons were creatures of fire, hunger, conquest. they knew the sky because nothing else could hold them. they knew blood because it stained their teeth and claws alike. love belonged to septons reciting vows before painted gods, belonged to mothers pressing kisses against fevered brows, belonged to songs composed by men too frightened to face the world without convincing themselves it possessed kindness somewhere within it. what place had love inside a dragon's mouth?

his gaze traveled across the crimson beast before him, taking in the twisted grace of that long neck, the sweep of scarlet wings folding and unfolding against the stone, the scar that carved across caraxes' frame as though he had been born already acquainted with pain. hideous, some would call him-- malformed, wrong.

daemon thought him magnificent.

perhaps because he understood what it meant to be looked upon and measured against someone else's perfection; viserys had inherited the crown, and daemon had inherited comparison. always the second son, always the brother. always expected to smile while another man's name echoed through halls that ought to have remembered his just as readily. every feast, every council, every fucking lord who bowed lower before viserys than they ever would before him scraped another layer from whatever patience remained. they called his brother good and gentle and fit to rule.

they called daemon dangerous.

and, they never stopped to wonder whether they themselves had forged the distinction.

his hand drifted toward caraxes' snout, hesitating only for the space of a single breath before rough scales met bare skin. warmth radiated from the dragon, not the pleasant warmth of hearthfire but something unspeakably powerful, forever waiting to be unleashed. another creature might have recoiled from daemon's temper, from the rage forever simmering behind violet eyes.

"nyke won't ask you to love me?" he repeated, tasting the absurdity of it. "ao speak as though dragons care for such things." his fingers traced absent circles against crimson scales, "men beg for love because they have nothing else. kings demand it, fools mistake fear for it. my brother thinks earning it makes him strong." his mouth twisted, "it makes him blind."

his lips curved into something that almost resembled a smile, crooked and full of mischief that had not yet grown into cruelty, "ao iā drējī nyke naejās. biare iksos."

you will not ask me for love. that is fortunate.

then, his forehead came to rest against warm scales, an instinctive gesture that surprised him almost as much as it did not.

"because i have never been very good at giving it." @zaldriz3s

#DAEMON&CARAXES.#I'LL LOVE U CARAXES!!!!#zaldriz3s

❛ i won't let myself hope for you again. ❜

he had spent a lifetime convincing himself that hope was another name for weakness, something men clung to before the world reached across the table to break their fingers, joint by joint. however, her words still found a place inside him to take root, spreading through old scars like decay. of all the accusations ever thrown at daemon targaryen, none had struck with such unbearable cruelty as the simple confession that she would not allow herself to hope for him again-- the death of hope was far crueler than any of them, because hatred demanded feeling, and disappointment still carried expectation. but this... was acceptance. and he could think of no greater indictment than his own daughter deciding he was no longer worth believing in.

his mouth threatened to answer before his mind had settled upon the lie it wished to tell, because lies had always come easier than truths, especially the ones he repeated often enough to mistake them for conviction. i did what was necessary. you were safer this way. i had a kingdom to win. every excuse was another stone laid atop a grave he himself had dug, and standing before it now, daemon found only emptiness where certainty had once lived. kings made sacrifices, princes did much of the same. fathers-- fathers were meant to know the difference between the two. somewhere along the road between flea bottom and dragonstone, between the stepstones and harrenhal, between every battlefield stained by men who had screamed his name in admiration or terror, he had ceased recognizing where daemon the prince ended and daemon the father ought to have begun.

king's landing had fallen back into rhaenyra's hands only days before, though victory had arrived dressed as something far more hideous than defeat. banners and crowns had changed, as well as the names spoken during council-- and yet, yet nothing within the castle's foundations had truly shifted. ambition still seeped from corridor to corridor, and daemon knew the feeling better than anyone. perhaps even better than rhaenyra herself.

the throne was not merely a seat; it was a sickness, and he had wanted it once. perhaps some part of him still did. ...that realization spread across his thoughts with the bitterness of spoiled wine coating his tongue.

daemon no longer trusted himself enough to know, as there had always existed two creatures inside him, one who loved with terrifying ferocity and another who devoured whatever stood between himself and the name history might someday carve into marble. sometimes they marched together... more often they tore at each other until neither could distinguish victory from self-destruction. and in that endless struggle, rhaena had become another casualty.

he remembered every occasion he had looked beyond her. remembered searching for dragons whilst forgetting to search for the child standing only steps away.

remembered baela astride moondancer, fearless and blazing against an open sky, as rhaena remained earthbound, carrying the silent humiliation of being born targaryen without fire answering her call. he had told himself she would endure it; targaryens endured. it was what they were bred to do: survive loneliness, survive loss, survive becoming strangers to themselves. but endurance was not love,

"hope was never the thing i deserved from you."

she had done the impossible: sought out a beast no sensible rider would approach. feral, untamed, and even older than reason itself. a creature that belonged to no one until it decided otherwise. of course-- of course daemon targaryen's neglected daughter would not wait patiently for destiny to hand her a hatchling wrapped neatly in expectation. she had reached into the mouth of death itself and returned astride it, proving every doubt wrong in the most daemon way imaginable, and the realization filled him with equal measures of pride and dread.

because he understood why.

he knew that hunger. @witchyxwoo

#DAEMON&RHAENA.#thank u for sending this!#witchyxwoo

coreytaylortv

Visit Original Link

#SONGS.

vilelithium

𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔧𝔲𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤

𝔵𝔵

#AES.

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