#daemon blackfyre x y/n

[novaursa]

The Black Dragon's Claim (runaway)

- Summary: Daemon steals you on your nameday, and the realm is never the same.

- Paring: targ!reader/Daemon I Blackfyre

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Previous part: 1

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The night air stings against your skin as Daemon’s horse thunders across the darkened plains, carrying you further from the Red Keep and deeper into the heart of rebellion. The wind howls, the stars above bright yet cold, as if they bear witness to the scandal that has just unfolded. You clutch Daemon’s cloak to keep from slipping, your body pressed tightly against his. Each thunderous beat of the horse’s hooves mirrors the frantic rhythm of your heart.

His men ride close behind, a shadowy army escorting their prince and his prize—the Targaryen princess now stolen from the very heart of King’s Landing. You know that soon the news will spread like wildfire. Every noble house, every smallfolk in the streets will hear the tale: Daemon Blackfyre has claimed you. The realm will break in half, some in outrage, others in fervent support of the man who now holds you close.

You should be terrified. You should be furious. And yet, a part of you feels alive, more alive than ever before.

The ride is long, the silence heavy, save for the pounding of hooves and the distant howl of wolves. You finally dare to speak, your voice trembling just enough to betray your shock.

"Daemon, what have you done?"

His grip on the reins tightens, and for a moment, he does not respond. Then, in that voice that has always unnerved and drawn you, he answers, “What was necessary.”

You narrow your eyes, your breath coming faster. “You’ve stolen me. Do you think the realm will let this stand?”

He laughs softly, a sound dark and dangerous. “Let the realm try to stop me. They’ve always wanted to see us broken, but now I hold the most precious prize.” He glances down at you, his gaze burning in the moonlight. “You, my love, are the symbol they will rally behind.”

You want to argue, to fight against the fire that rages between you. But deep down, you know he’s right. You’ve always been loved by the people, a daughter of the dragonblood, the one untouched by the ugliness of court politics. Daemon taking you as his bride will divide loyalties across the realm. But what is most unsettling isn’t that fact—it’s the realization that a part of you is willing to let it all burn.

You travel through the night, and by the time dawn breaks over the horizon, Daemon leads you toward a sprawling camp at the edge of a river. Tents rise like a small city, banners bearing the Blackfyre sigil fluttering in the wind. Soldiers pause in their tasks, watching with wide eyes as Daemon dismounts, pulling you gently down with him. His men bow, their loyalty unquestioning. They don’t see you as a prisoner—they see you as their queen.

He holds out his hand, and for a moment, you hesitate. Your whole life has been defined by duty, by what you must do for the crown, for the realm. But as you look into Daemon’s violet, storm-filled eyes, you feel the weight of something different—desire, freedom, and the thrill of the unknown.

You take his hand.

The men cheer as Daemon pulls you to his side, lifting your joined hands high for all to see. “I present to you,” Daemon declares, his voice carrying over the camp, “the woman who will stand beside me as I take back what is rightfully ours. My bride, the trueblood of Targaryen lineage.”

Your stomach twists at the proclamation, but you lift your chin high. You know that what follows will be perilous. You’ve stepped into the eye of the storm, where there is no turning back.

Daemon takes you inside the largest tent, which is lavishly adorned compared to the rest of the camp. The flickering light of the braziers casts shadows against the walls, giving the space an almost ethereal glow. Once inside, he turns to you, his eyes softer now, yet still filled with the intensity that defines him.

“You may hate me for this,” he says quietly, stepping closer. “But I will not apologize. I’ve wanted you from the moment I knew of your birth. You were meant for more than a hollow life in the Red Keep. With me, you will have fire, blood, and the world at your feet.”

His words stir something deep within you, something primal. The court had always tried to shape you, to contain you within their expectations of what a princess should be. But with Daemon, there are no limits. He offers you a crown not forged by duty, but by power.

You meet his gaze, and the space between you seems to shrink. “You’ve risked everything,” you whisper, your voice a mixture of defiance and awe. “The throne, the realm, even your life—all for me?”

His smile is slow, dangerous, but genuine. “I’d burn the world for you.”

There it is again, that reckless flame that burns inside him, drawing you in like a moth to the fire. And now you’re in the center of it, your future bound to his rebellion, to his ambition.

But a thought crosses your mind, one you cannot ignore. “The realm will come for us,” you say, your voice low. “My brother Daeron, the royal court—what we’ve done will not go unpunished.”

Daemon’s expression darkens for a moment, but his confidence never wavers. “Let them come. I’ve waited long enough to make my move. The rebellion was already in motion, but with you, it has become unstoppable. They will either bend the knee or fall.”

You shiver, not from the cold but from the realization that this is your life now—standing beside the man who has stolen you from everything you once knew. You are no longer just the beloved Targaryen princess. You are the queen of the Blackfyre rebellion, and the realm will bleed for it.

Daemon steps closer, cupping your cheek with surprising gentleness. His thumb brushes over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. “You are mine now,” he whispers, his voice low and possessive. “And together, we will carve a new legacy.”

You close your eyes, your heart pounding in your chest as you lean into his touch. You know that this path will not be easy, that it will be filled with blood and fire. But as you stand here with Daemon, in the quiet before the storm, you find that you no longer care.

You are his, and the realm will know it. Let them come.

[frankcastleonlyfans]

part two of dad!daemon headcanon pleaseeee 😭

𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄, 𝐏𝐓𝟐:

pairing: dad!daemon targaryen x mom!reader

reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. i hope you like it!

warnings: fluff, daemon being an awesome dad, more fluff, just pure fluff.

    · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ୨♡୧ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

It's been five years since you gave birth to your last child.

You and Daemon had a beautiful baby girl, that he decided to name Viserra.

Since her birth, Daemon became even more protective towards you and the children.

He knew his brother wasn't going to live many more years, and Alicent was showing herself to be a threat on the council.

You tried not to worry too much, and also to keep him calm.

Daemon spends most of his days teaching sword fighting to his sons — and daughter.

Alyssa always wanted to play with your husband’s legendary sword, Darksister.

On her fifteenth name day celebration, he gave her her own.

"Valyrian steel..." She whispered, her eyes were full of emotion. "Father, I don't know what to say"

"All legendary swords have names. The conqueror had Blackfyre, I have Darksister, your brother Rhaegon named his Devour. What's yours called?"

Alyssa being your husband's daughter, you couldn't think of a different answer;

"Doombringer."

Daemon couldn't be more proud of his little knight to be.

But he was also worried about her.

Alyssa finally became of age, and Daemon's brother, King Viserys, thought it would be the best for the house of the dragon to marry one of his sons to her.

Of course it wouldn't be with the second heir to the throne. Aegon was already married to his sister, Helaena.

And, Daeron was in Oldtown, so certainly it wouldn't be to him either.

"What did you say to him?" You asked your husband.

"I said, I'm not marrying my little girl to that psychopath one-eyed son of his!"

"Daemon!"

"What? I don't care if he exiles me for the hundredth time, my daughter is not going to marry that freak! The kid killed cats for fun when he was 12, Y/N!"

And like a good father, he didn't mind making her company.

Fortunately, he could enjoy his youngest daughter as she remained the only child between his teens.

Viserra was curious and a fast learner.

Daemon usually took her for walks on the dragonpit to see Caraxes, but never to rides, because she wasn't fond of heights.

She liked to learn about the dragons but not to be on top of one.

She also loved when Daemon talked to her in high valyrian.

"Do you wanna know something interesting?" He said playfully and she nodded, "The valyrian word for "love" and "need" are the same."

"Really?" She gasped.

"Really." He chuckled, "For example, jorrāelagon ao. Now, what did I say?"

"Love you."

"Yes, but so is "need you". The phrases are the same."

"Jorrāelagon ao" She repeated, hugging Daemon's huge torso.

He loved his girls more than anything, but he'd always remember to pay some attention to his boys too.

At the age of 18, Rhaegon spent most of his time on the westerosi skies, riding his dragon, Araxes.

Daemon not only taught his sons sword fighting, but gladly showed them his amazing riding skills.

With the help of his father, Maegon finally found a dragon for himself. He claimed Seasmoke after Laenor's passing.

Both boys shared their father's adventurous spirit, and they loved to be on the air.

"I bet Aemond couldn't do this with that old burden of his!" Shouted Rhaegon, exhibiting his riding tricks.

"Vhagar can't even put herself in the air without falling to pieces!" Maegon mocked.

"She's so old that she saw Aemond's hair and thought it was Visenya taking her to conquer Dorne!" Daemon laughed.

His kids were his joy.

a/n: check out part 3 here

[doxypsychlean]

Hi! I love your writing and would have some requests. Maybe you like one or two of them:

a) daemon has quarrel with Viserys. The king accuses Daemon of things and is unfair.

y/n - female reader notices this and stands protectively in front of Daemon and defends him from his brother.

b)

For example, Daemon returns from the battle and realizes that female reader was very worried about him and was afraid for him.

c)

Daemon is injured and female reader, who hasn't seemed to like him until now, takes loving care of him.

d)

female reader has a conversation with Aemma where she talks about her feelings for Daemon. Daemon overhears the conversation and overhears Aemma describing him as a bad choice and a great misfortune for female readers. but reader defends it and describes what is wonderful about Daemon. it becomes clear that she sees sides of him that he is trying to hide.

Mueheheheheh or maybe, just maybe...I like all of em!

The Rogue Prince

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Different scenarios

Pairings: Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, NSFW content(only hinted at, no dirty stuff acc being described), Mention of blood?does that even count?

Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and bite your left ear off!

English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.

A/N: Ugh, I had so much fun w this one. Hope yall like it as much as I did! Thx for the req btw!

A)

"You disobeyed my orders!"

"Because you were wrong!"

The two brothers screamed back and forth, neither one of them willing to surrender. Viserys ran a hand over his face as he sighed.

"You do realize I have a kingdom to rule,right? I cannot parent you, Daemon, it's enough that I have to deal with my daughter's antics!"

The Rogue Prince rolled his eyes at his brother's words.

"You compare me to a child only because I did what had to be done?" Daemon scoffed. "So be it. At least I'm a child that has some sense left."

"Sense? Sense?! Slaughtering half of Flea Bottom is you having sense?!" The King yelled out once more.

You and the Queen were standing off to the side, watching as your husbands screamed at eachother. Both you and Aemma knew it, Daemon was in the right. The Queen of Westeros gave you a look, as if trying to get you to stop the two men. It's been long since she'd given up on doing it, it was now your turn to deal with the Targaryen brothers.

As their voices got louder and the two came face to face, your words rang. Both men stopped and turned to look at you.

"My King... Apologies, Viserys." You corrected yourself as the white haired man gave you a weird look. You were part of the family now, there was no need for such formalities behind closed doors. "Viserys, you don't know what's it like out there. True, Flea Bottom has never been a good place, but it's been getting worse with each passing day! Murderers, rapists and thieves walk around the streets, spitting in the face of any authority! They know there will be no repercussions, no one to stop them! Something had to be done."

"Trust me, I know. But slaughtering people in the streets for everyone to see isn't the right way!"

"Viserys-" Queen Aemma tried to intervene, but her husband cut her short.

"No, he has to understand! This isn't what we do!" Viserys said more to Daemon, than the woman that was now standing next to him.

"Yeah, what we do is absolutely nothing..." Daemon mocked, turning to look at his brother again. "That's what you've been doing all this time- nothing! The realm would've been better of with-"

"With whom? You? That's what you've always wanted isn't it?!" The King shook himself free of the grasp the Queen had on him. Blackfyre was now pointing at Daemon's chest. "First it's the small folk of Flea Bottom, then it's my throat you'll cut! Isn't it?!"

In the blink of an eye, you found yourself standing in front of your husband, hand reaching out and wrapping around cold steel.

"Seven Hells, you two are brothers!" Your voice boomed as your grip on the sword got stronger. "What's it going to take for you to realize that you both want the best for eachother!"

The King was no longer looking at you, nor was he looking at his brother that stood behind you. His eyes were trained on your hand. Viserys called out your name, but you couldn't hear him. You've had enough of your husband's and your brother-in-law's stupidity for one afternoon.

"He doesn't want your crown!" You pointed from your husband to your King. "And he doesn't want to see you get killed in the streets of this wretched city!"

You expected silence. Expected to see them avert their eyes in shame. Instead, both Viserys and Daemon, as well as Aemma, were yelling at you to let go.

"For fuck's sake, woman! You'll slice your hand off!" Daemon said as he pried your fingers off of the sword.

You finally noticed it. The pool of blood on the ground. The angry gash on your palm.

"We have to take you to the maesters." Daemon pulled you away, only turning to look at his brother once you two reached the doors. He offered a small apologetic nod. Viserys did too.

"I appreciate what you did back there, but please, do not lose limbs over me and my brother fighting."

B)

The skirts of your dress trailed behind you as your ran down the steps. With the speed you were going at, you were sure you'll split your forehead open or snap your neck any moment now. It didn't matter. He had come back. You saw him. Or to be more specific, you saw Caraxes fly close to the Red Keep, a familiar head of silver-white hair on its back.

You were close. So close. Almost in the Great Hall. Then you saw him. The King was congratulating him on his victory. The whole place was clapping and cheering.

"You bloody idiot!"

They all quieted down. Even King Viserys stared in silence.

"My lady!" Daemon said calmly. "We won."

"Fuck do I care if we did or not! You said you won't be joining the battle!"

All the noble ladies gasped at your words. How dare you speak like that to the handsome young Prince Daemon, especially after he'd returned to the capital with that traitor's head.

"I lied." He admitted, a smirk on his face.

"You could've died out there!" You said as you approached him. The stench of blood and sweat hit you like a brick wall, but you couldn't care less.

"I didn't."

His hand went up to shake the crown he held, in front of your eyes. You were quick to slap it out of his grasp. More gasps and then murmuring came from the people around you.

"My lady, is that any way to treat a..."

He closed his mouth soon after he opened it. All the air in the Rogue Prince's lungs forcefully found its way out as you slammed yourself into him, hands wrapping around his neck as you kissed him deeply.

"Your dress..." He looked down at the now covered in blood and dirt dress that you were wearing.

"What about it?" You smiled up at him.

"You'll need a new one, this one seems to be completely ruined." He returned your smile.

"Well, not completely...I could think of a few things we could do to get it there though."

Daemon snorted, his eyes going up to look around the room. He snorted once more, once he noticed the disgusted and horrified looks of the people around.

"Never leave me like that again. Ever."

"I promise."

C)

"But he'll live, right?"

"Yes, your Grace. The Prince will heal, but he needs to rest for now..."

Slamming of doors interrupted the Grand Maester before he could finish.

"Where is he? Where is my husband?"

Bloodied hand rose from the piles of blankets on the bed. Then something rather weird happened- a giggle. Soft, innocent giggle.

You let out a confused sound.

"I gave Prince Daemon milk of the poppy, my lady. To help with the pain."

"Gods, I thought he'd lost his mind out there..." You trailed off as you neared your shared bed.

As your knees slammed into the mattress and your hands started digging around the blankets, two eyes found their way out to look at you.

"We won..." Daemon hummed.

"And you almost lost your life!" You scolded as you removed the blankets from his face.

"What do you care..." His head lolled. "I die and you'll be free."

"Gods, how much did you give him?!" You said more to yourself than the Grand Maester.

"Don't play the fool, wife."

"Daemon..."

"Don't, don't, don't!" He said with a mischievous smile, basically singing out the words.

"Leave us!" Your voice rang.

"But, my lady-"

"I wish to be alone with my husband, Grand Maester!" You cut him short.

The man only nodded, signaling with one hand for the others it'stime to take their leave.

Soon, they were all gone. You turned to look at your husband once more.

"Don't..." He whispered with the same smile on his face from before.

"Daemon, that's not true. I-"

You stopped yourself. You knew there'd be no coming back from this. The two of you had been cold and distant to eachother, determined to show the world around you that there's no way this arranged marriage would work. And it was working. Untill something inside of you both started growing...

It didn't matter. He'd probably not remember any of your words once the effects had worn off.

"I truly care for you. More than you can imagine. Hearing that you got wounded in battle was...was...Well, it wasn't good. I-"

He let out another giggle, eyes staring up at you.

"Ooh, wife, let me guess... You're about to profess your love for me?"

"Yes."

"Good. Me too."

You sat there, staring down at him in confusion.

"You mean...You love me?"

Daemon only hummed in response, his left arm shooting up and uncovering his bandaged torso.

"Join me. Oddly enough, I'm cold."

"Cold? I'll fetch the Grand Maester, this isn't right. With all these blankets on you..." You got back to your feet, ready to scream for the healers to get back inside.

Before you could get away, a hand wrapped around your wrist. You turned around.

"Stay." Daemon said with a wink.

You huffed as you rolled your eyes. Slowly, you made your way under the covers. A hand wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you closer.

"I really love you right now, you know..."

"You won't remember a thing of what you've said, come the morrow..." You whispered.

"We'll see..."

You laid there like that, staring at the ceiling above your head. When the sun came back and its light shined through the windows once more, a voice pulled you out of your trance.

"I really love you right now, you know..."

D)

The gardens of the Red Keep weren't the best place to hold private conversations that weren't meant for others to hear. Still, Queen Aemma insisted. It was a beautiful day out. The sun was smiling down at them, the birds were chirping happily. Nothing could stop her from making her way down to the gardens- not you, not the maesters, not her doula; not even her rounded, swollen belly. Well... the cravings almost did. That's why she had the two servant girls leave you and go bring something sweet from the kitchens.

"Dear girl, I've heard some interesting stories go around the castle."

You looked up, your delicate fingers stopping as they now held onto the braid of white hair.

"About a certain lord...and you."

"Oh, yes... There isn't much about him and I, your Grace. I declined."

"Sweet girl, while I understand Jason Lannister is..."

"A pig?" You offered with a laugh.

Queen Aemma laughed too. You weren't wrong, after all. He was a pig.

"...You can't keep declining all those proposals. Your father Otto, bless him, granted you the ability to choose your own lord husband. A choice many of us didn't get to make. But don't be mistaken, if he sees you cannot come to a decision, he'll make it for you."

"Yes, your Grace." You nodded, hands busying themselves with the braid once more.

"Has no one really caught your eye? At all?"

"Your Grace!" You said in pretend shock, both of you laughing once more.

"Well...? Woman to woman, is there anyone?"

"Maybe..."

The two servants arrived, each carrying a trail with sweets. Unbeknownst to you and the Queen, the two had been escorted back by a certain prince who now stood behind a bush, eavesdropping on your conversation.

He'd caught your eye long ago. You couldn't deny it, even though you tried your best to do so.

"Don't be shy now, do tell." Aemma's voice reached your ears. You almost missed it with the way you were staring at the servants, who in turn were looking over your head.

The Queen turned slightly. She noticed your expression, then waved off the two girls who quickly dissappeared.

"Well...?"

"Prince Daemon..." You whispered as your face flushed.

"Sweet,sweet girl." The Queen shook her head lightly with a serious expression. "My brother-in-law is...Well, I do not think your father would approve."

"He has allowed me to choose for myself..."

"And yet, he wouldn't consent to such a match. Daemon is...Daemon."

"I'm sorry, my Queen, but I don't follow."

Aemma let out a sigh. She couldn't, for the life of her, come up with a way to say it. Unlike you, the moment she saw the look on the servants' faces, she knew there was something going on. So as she turned to look at you, the Queen stole a quick glance at the bushes behind your back. Aemma immediately saw the Rogue Prince's silver-white hair on the other side.

"I do love him, dear girl, but Daemon is unpredictable. Spontaneous... Hot-headed. I do not wish to break your spirits, but I doubt there's any light left in his dark heart."

Your fingers stopped moving once more, as you came to the realization that your Queen's words had angered you. There was another thing gnawing at your heart- guilt. You knew she didn't say it with bad intent. Queen Aemma would never do such a thing. Not her.

"Pardon me, your Grace, but I disagree. There's more to him, I just know it."

"Pray tell, what do you see in the Prince?" Aemma laughed with a knowing look.

"He's kind. And compassionate. He protects his family, no matter the cost. He is fierce and loyal. He is intelligent, one of the smartest men I have ever met, if I have to be honest. But there's more..."

You took a long pause, eyes staring straight ahead. Aemma leaned back a bit, nudging at you to continue.

"... I do not believe the light in him has gone out, no. It's there, just as it's always been. I think he's just afraid to show it to anyone. To let someone get close to the fire that burns inside him. He's afraid that it will grow larger than him and burn everything in its path..."

"Beautifully said, sweet girl... If only you'd muster the courage to say it to him."

"If only..." Came a familiar voice from behind you. Then it dissappeared, off to find the Hand of the King- Otto Hightower. Single question on its possessor's mind. For Otto to give his eldest to him, so you could burn together in those flames. And leave no trace behind.

[novaursa]

Hi!Could you write sth about Daemon Blackfyre, where the reader is aegon and naerys trueborn daughter ?I don't have sth specific in mind do what u like.I just really want to read sth about him .

The Black Dragon's Claim

Requests are closed!

- Summary: Daemon steals you on your nameday, and the realm is never the same.

- Paring: targ!reader/Daemon I Blackfyre

- Rating: Mature 16+ (just to be safe)

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The great hall of the Red Keep thrums with music, laughter, and the clink of goblets as the lords and ladies of the realm gather to celebrate your nameday. You stand at the heart of it all, surrounded by banners of black and red, the Targaryen dragon flying proudly above the throngs of well-wishers. The candles burn bright, casting a soft glow across the room, but despite the festivity, a sense of unease gnaws at you.

For tonight is not just a celebration. There is a war brewing, though the crown does not speak of it openly. Daemon Blackfyre, your half-brother, wages his rebellion across the land, claiming his right to the Iron Throne, the throne you’ve never truly desired but have always been tied to by blood.

You can feel the eyes upon you—the noblewomen with their envious glances, the lords watching your every move. Yet, above all, you feel the weight of the people's gaze. You have always been their beloved princess, the trueborn daughter of King Aegon IV and Queen Naerys. To them, you are a beacon of hope, a symbol of peace amid the chaos that threatens to engulf the realm.

But it is not peace that stirs in the air tonight. No, there is something far more dangerous, far more intoxicating. You can feel it in the shadows that flicker at the edges of the hall, in the way the knights and guards shift uneasily. And then, you feel him—Daemon.

He steps into the hall like a force of nature, the room seeming to hush in his wake. He is clad in black armor, his cloak trimmed with red, and in his hand, the unmistakable hilt of Blackfyre gleams. His presence is magnetic, drawing all eyes to him, but his gaze is fixed on you, and only you.

You know you should flee, or at least feign indifference. But the intensity of his stare roots you to the spot, your heart pounding in your chest. He is not supposed to be here, not at a celebration for the daughter of the Targaryens. And yet, here he stands, tall and defiant, with a look that promises danger and passion all at once.

Before you can react, Daemon strides toward you, his footsteps echoing through the silent hall. The courtiers whisper, fear and curiosity mingling in their voices. A few guards step forward, unsure whether to challenge him or bow. But none dare draw their swords. He stops before you, towering above you, his presence overwhelming.

"Princess," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. "I've come to claim what's mine."

Your breath catches in your throat. The hall seems to disappear, the music and laughter fading away until it's just the two of you, standing in the center of a gathering that feels more like a battlefield. You want to speak, to challenge him, to deny him, but something in his eyes holds you still.

"Daemon," you manage, your voice barely above a whisper. "You can't."

But even as the words leave your lips, you know they hold no power over him. Daemon Blackfyre does not ask permission. He takes. And in this moment, it is clear that he intends to take you.

Without warning, he grabs your hand, his grip firm but not painful. Gasps ripple through the hall as he pulls you toward him, his arm wrapping possessively around your waist. Your heart races, and for a brief, terrifying moment, you wonder if you should resist. But Daemon’s presence is a storm, one you cannot hope to weather alone.

He leans close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Tonight, you will be mine. No more games, no more waiting. The realm will know that you belong to me.”

Before you can protest, before the shock can fully set in, Daemon steps back, his arm still around you, and turns toward the stunned crowd. “I take this woman as my bride,” he announces, his voice ringing out over the hall. “She is mine, as is the throne. Let no man dare stand between us.”

The room erupts into chaos. Lords and ladies shout in disbelief, some drawing their swords, others shrinking back in fear. The guards look to each other, uncertain, while the highborn women murmur frantically behind their hands. Your nameday has turned into something far more scandalous, far more dangerous.

Daemon doesn't wait for their approval. He pulls you closer, his dark eyes filled with triumph and something far more dangerous—desire. “Come,” he says softly, his voice meant for you alone. “We leave now, before they can stop us.”

You barely have time to catch your breath as he leads you swiftly through the hall, past the shocked faces, past the guards too stunned to act. The doors of the Red Keep slam open, and the cool night air hits your face. Outside, Daemon’s men are waiting—his loyalists, his army. They cheer as they see him with you in his grasp, their princess, their prize.

The black dragon banner flies high above them, a symbol of the rebellion now more powerful than ever. For Daemon has not just claimed a bride tonight—he has claimed you, the beloved daughter of the Targaryens. And with that, he has thrown the realm into greater turmoil. The people will rise, some in support of their cherished princess, others in fury that she has been taken by the usurper.

The world shifts around you, the night filled with the clamor of horses and the shouts of men. You are no longer the princess they knew. You are Daemon Blackfyre’s bride, and with that comes a weight you never asked to carry.

But as Daemon lifts you onto his horse and rides into the night, you feel a strange thrill deep in your chest. The rebellion has taken on a new life, and so have you. Whatever may come, you will face it at Daemon’s side, bound to him by fire, blood, and something far more powerful.

The realm will never be the same. And neither will you.

[novaursa]

Daemon I Blackfyre Masterlist

main list

- The Black Dragon's Claim - Daemon steals you on your nameday, and the realm is never the same. - mature 16+ (just to be safe)

- The Black Dragon's Claim (runaway) - mild 13+

[novaursa]

Another story by your choice?

Let's switch this around today. Your men come to you and say they've managed to capture an important Targaryen/Blackfyre leader.

It's here:

[novaursa]

Hii!!I love your work and I just wanted to ask u if u would consider making the daemon blackfyre oneshots a series?If yes , can u include smut aswell?

Hi! ☺️❤️

I wasn't considering it, as I have other works underway. I may reconsider expanding those one-shots, but not in the near future. Maybe once I have more free time on my hands. But I make no promises.

[novaursa]

Jump on the train these last few hours. 🙂

Another story by your choice?

Let's switch this around today. Your men come to you and say they've managed to capture an important Targaryen/Blackfyre leader.