Charmed: Chris' Identity Is Discovered {~Chapter 2~}

Hi! Could I request this for Daemon? I've been really interested in the whole haunting for Damon

in the latest season and just wanted charmed and thought Daemon might come across the spirit of his late ex-lover at Harrenhal. She was Otto's eldest daughter who passed away before they could wed. There's a chance that Otto mistakenly poisoned her instead of Daemon, in an attempt to stop their marriage. She confides in Daemon about the specifics of her death, and he finds closure by being able to embrace her, kiss her, and be intimate with her. Alys Rivers was someone she adored and cared for, perhaps as a motherly figure. Alys might continue to trigger visions of his former lover in Daemon, but not with harmful intentions; it could be rooted in her affection for her maternal figure. This could serve as the first part of a two-part series, and the suspenseful conclusion could be Alys' revelation that she intends to bring her back to life, potentially leading to Damon's unexpected shift in allegiance in the series 😏💚❤️‍🔥

{~Shadows of Harrenhal~}

A/N: First of all I just want to say thank you for requesting this!!! I am sooo sorry that it took me to song for me to write this for you! I really hope you enjoy this and I'm really sorry if it's not entirely what you wanted but I tried! 😭

Summary: Daemon Targaryen encounters the spirit of his lost love, Otto Hightower’s eldest daughter, who died before they could wed. Alys Rivers offers Daemon a way to bring her back, binding their souls but at a high cost. As he’s consumed by their supernatural connection, Daemon faces a painful choice: keep her and lose himself, or release her and find peace.

Characters: Daemon & Alys

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Some Angst

Word Count: 1983

Tag List: @snowtargaryen @hippiedippiekitty

Part 1 ---

Daemon Targaryen never considered himself a man bound by ghosts. He took what he wanted, feared little, and answered to no one. But there was one shadow that followed him, one face that haunted his dreams in the depths of the night—a woman he loved fiercely, his intended bride, taken from him before they could wed. She was Otto Hightower’s eldest daughter, his love, his match, and a memory that clawed at his heart like iron scraping bone.

And now, they say, she wanders Harrenhal.

The torches cast jagged shadows across the cracked walls as Daemon strode through the desolate corridors of the ancient castle. Alys Rivers, dark-eyed and silent, led the way, her steps so light she seemed to glide. Daemon had come here on a whim, drawn by rumors of Alys’s talents. They spoke of her sight, her ability to reach beyond the veil, of a power that could evoke spirits, and conjure memories from the other side. Daemon had scoffed at such tales, but here he was, heart pounding with a hope he would not admit, even to himself.

They reached an old, nearly forgotten hall where the light seemed thinner, barely touching the cold stone. Alys turned to face him, her expression unreadable. “She is near,” she murmured.

Daemon’s throat tightened. “Bring her to me, then.”

Alys did not respond immediately; instead, she stepped back, her dark eyes meeting him with an expression that seemed both compassionate and haunting. With a few whispered words that faded into the stillness, she raised her hands, her fingers moving through the air as though drawing open a curtain unseen.

And then, Daemon felt it—a stirring, a ripple in the atmosphere. The air grew colder, tingling with a sensation he couldn’t quite place as if something forgotten was being called to life once more.

Then he saw her.

She stood in the shadows, her form translucent yet unmistakable. She looked exactly as he remembered—elegant and poised, with a softness that made his heart twist with longing. Her eyes, deep and expressive, locked onto his, and he took a step closer, not daring to blink, terrified she might vanish like all the memories he’d clung to for so long.

“Daemon,” she said softly, her voice carrying a warmth that cut through the chill around them.

His breath left him in a shudder. “Gods… I thought I’d lost you forever.” His voice was a hoarse whisper, filled with a rawness he’d never shown to another soul.

She smiled, though it was a sad, broken thing. “You did lose me, Daemon. And not by fate or sickness, but by the hand of my blood.” Her voice trembled, anger mingling with sorrow. “I did not die by chance. My father took me from you.”

Daemon’s expression hardened. He had suspected Otto’s hand in her untimely death, but hearing it from her lips was a dagger to his heart. “Tell me what happened,” he demanded, his voice rough, desperate.

She paused, looking down at her hands, then back at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “He planned to poison you, Daemon. To ensure I would never stand beside you as your wife, to keep our marriage from bringing you closer to the throne. But he miscalculated…” Her voice broke, and she looked away, pain flickering across her face. “The cup he brought me that night was meant for you. I drank it, thinking it a gesture of his blessing, of forgiveness. And as I lay there, gasping, as I felt the life draining from my body… he looked at me with horror.”

Daemon’s hands clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white as rage surged within him. “He killed you to stop me. That insufferable snake took you from me.”

She nodded, her form flickering faintly in the cold light. “In his eyes, I was a casualty… a necessary one to prevent what he feared most.” Her voice softened, eyes searching his face. “I only wish I could have said goodbye.”

They were silent for a moment, the weight of her words heavy in the air. Daemon’s gaze softened as he took a step closer to her, his hand reaching out, though he stopped just short of touching her. “I would have burned the realm to keep you safe,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. “I would have done anything.”

She stepped closer, her presence faint but solid enough that he could feel a sliver of warmth, a remnant of the life they had once hoped to share. “And I would have walked through fire for you,” she replied, a fierce glimmer in her eyes. “I would have given up anything to be by your side, Daemon.”

He reached out again, his fingers trembling, unsure if he would feel her touch or if his hand would pass through. To his surprise, he felt her—a chill against his skin, yet grounding, familiar. Her hands found his, delicate and weightless.

They stood in silence, foreheads touching, a thousand unspoken words exchanged in that moment. The years melted away, and for a fleeting heartbeat, it felt as if they were the same two souls they had once been—wild, passionate, and bound by a love that defied the very gods.

Daemon’s hand moved up, cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over her skin as if memorizing her once more. “I swore you’d be mine,” he whispered, voice trembling with both rage and longing. “And now… I don’t know how to let you go again.”

She placed a ghostly hand over his heart, her touch soft but resonant. “You don’t have to,” she whispered, leaning in until her lips met his.

The kiss was electric, a union of fire and ice. His heart thundered as he held her, feeling her presence consume him, grounding him as if she were still alive, warm, and vibrant. Time slowed

each kiss, each caress an echo of the life they’d never had the chance to share. His arms tightened around her as if holding her would anchor her to him, to the world of the living.

When their kiss finally broke, she looked at him, full of sorrow and love. “Daemon,” she whispered, “you must let me rest. But promise me… promise me you will never let him win. Do not let my death be in vain.”

He nodded, his jaw set with grim determination. “I’ll avenge you and make him pay for what he took from us.”

Daemon’s hand slipped from hers as her form began to wane, her eyes glistening with the silent plea she had left him with: Do not let my death be in vain. He watched helplessly as her spirit faded, leaving behind an unbearable emptiness that seemed to deepen the shadows of Harrenhal.

Before the silence could swallow him whole, Alys Rivers stepped closer, her gaze steady and enigmatic. She observed him with the measured patience of one who’d seen such grief many times before, her expression a strange blend of compassion and steel. She placed a hand on his arm, drawing his attention to her, breaking the spell of despair that had settled over him.

“You truly loved her,” Alys said softly, a question and a statement all at once.

Daemon’s eyes blazed as he turned to her. “She was everything.” His voice was a hoarse whisper, stripped bare of his usual pride. “But that is why I will never forgive that serpent, her father. I would see the world burn to have her back.”

Alys gave a slow, deliberate nod, seeming to weigh his words. She stepped around him, the hem of her dark gown whispering over the cold stone. “I can bring her back,” she murmured, each word a tantalizing promise that hung in the air. Her gaze held his, unflinching. “But such magic is costly, Daemon Targaryen. Some forces bind the dead to the afterlife, threads that, once severed, cannot be mended without consequence.”

Daemon’s fists clenched as he took in her words, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “Name the price.”

She studied him for a long moment, and Daemon could feel her searching, reaching into the parts of him that he kept hidden. “You would risk your very soul, your bloodline… even your crown, to bring her back. Once life is restored, it can’t be undone again. She will come back to the world of the living, but such magic leaves scars.” Her voice softened. “And the price would not only be yours to bear. Those who defy death are never left unmarked.”

Daemon let her words sink in, the fire in him dimming with a slow, mounting horror. He could bring her back, but at what cost? Would she return whole, or would she bear some shadow, a remnant of the darkness she’d been drawn from? And yet, could he walk away, knowing this chance existed?

He turned away, his gaze dark as he looked over the desolate hall. “What must I sacrifice, exactly?”

Alys tilted her head, her dark eyes shadowed and knowing. “Your life as you know it, Daemon. Your heart will belong to her… entirely, without room for another. And if you defy the magic or the price of it, her soul will suffer the consequences. The magic demands loyalty, and as such, it would demand yours.”

Daemon’s mind raced, visions of their past together flooding his thoughts. She had been his match in every way—her laughter, her fire, her unyielding spirit, and the fierce, defiant way she’d loved him. He couldn’t count the times he’d dreamt of her, only to wake and remember that she was gone, lost to him by the hand of the one man he’d trusted least.

Alys’s voice was soft as she continued. “You know she saw me as a mother, as a friend. I would never harm her. But bringing her back… it will bind us all together in ways that none of us can predict. The magic is as old as these stones. It cannot be controlled once it begins.”

He met her gaze, his eyes intense, a silent question in them. “You would do this for her?” His voice was softer, guarded. “Even knowing the risk?”

Alys stepped closer, her expression softening with a trace of vulnerability. “For her, yes. She was dear to me, and her loss… it felt as though I’d lost a part of myself.” She hesitated, her gaze drifting as if looking into another world. “But Daemon, you must understand—this will change you. The Daemon Targaryen you know now will not survive unscathed. You might find yourself in conflict with those you once held dear, bound by forces that even you cannot defy.”

Daemon’s gaze darkened. His mind flickered to those he might be forced to forsake: his family, the throne… perhaps even the very kingdom he had once sought to rule. The sacrifices twisted at his mind, a hollow ache forming in his chest. Could he do this, knowing he might become unrecognizable to himself, bound to a fate he couldn’t undo?

And yet, her face lingered in his mind, a flickering light in the shadows.

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he let his heart answer before his mind could. When he looked back at Alys, his resolve was clear. “I accept. She was my life—whatever is left of me now is hers.”

Alys regarded him, a small, knowing smile curving her lips. “Very well,” she murmured, a flicker of satisfaction in her gaze. “But remember Daemon, once this path is set in motion, it cannot be reversed. And if the cost becomes too great, the only way to save her will be to destroy yourself.”

Daemon’s eyes flashed with fierce determination. “If that is what’s required, then so be it.”

Alys gave a slight nod, her expression unreadable as she extended her hand toward him. “Then come, Prince Daemon. The ritual begins tonight.”

Charmed: Chris' Identity is Discovered {~Chapter 5~}

Summary: The Phoenix Clan is after Chris, and the sisters are trying to help. But there are many questions that they need answering. How long can Chris keep his identity a secret? [Before Chris-Crossed]

Characters: Charmed Ones, Bianca, Chris, Leo

Pairing: No Pairing

Warnings: Angst, Heartbreak

Word Count: 666

Masterlist

Chris is lying on the couch in the living room. Piper is by his side holding a rag to his wound.

“How did this happen?”

“I don’t really know. I was just walking around, and I heard something behind me. So I turned around, but the next thing I know, I am clutching my side.”

“So you don’t know what it is? An energy ball? Fireball?” Piper asked.

“No. I don’t have an idea. I’m sorry Piper, I wish I could help more,” Piper smiles at him, then looks down.

“I am gonna get some water, okay?”

“Okay.” Chris agreed. Piper stood up and made her way into the kitchen. Paige and Phoebe were standing in the kitchen talking. Piper was shocked.

“It’s not like someone's life is on the line. Why don’t we all sit and chat!” Piper says sarcastically.

“We are worried Piper.” Phoebe said. “There is something that Paige has said which is making me question Chris.”

“What do you mean? What about Chris?” Piper asks. She turns towards Paige.

“White lighters heal themselves. They can heal everything on their bodies, unless it’s a dark lighters arrow. And it’s not. He isn’t a white lighter. Or not a whole one, anyway.” 

“He’s lied to us.” Phoebe says. “Again.” She adds.

“We need to heal him. And then we will ask our questions. And he will answer them.” Piper says, after much thought.

“Okay.” Phoebe and Paige agree. Eventually, Leo orbs into the living room and heals Chris.

“How did this happen?” Leo asks.

“I’m not sure. I didn’t see the demon.”

“Are you so sure it was a demon? After all that, Phoenix is still after you.”

“I hadn’t even thought of that. God, I’m an idiot.” Chris muttered.

“I’m glad we agree on one thing. Chris, we have a lot of questions for you.” Piper says.

“Questions? What questions?” Chris asks.

“Piper what’s going on?” Leo asks his ex-wife.

“Leo, you don’t live in this house anymore. And we aren’t together anymore. It really is none of your business. So can you just go? Anyway, the second we start talking you will be called away again. Just go.”

“Is this because I couldn’t see Wyatt?”

“Of course it is. He was looking forward to seeing you. But you let him down. This isn’t the first time you have done this to him. And I am not going to let you do it again.” Piper snapped. Leo looked at Piper, seeing her anger, he knew he had to go. Let them both calm down and rearrange their thoughts. Leo orbs away to the heavens. Keen to move on from that uncomfortable situation of seeing his parents argue, he asks the girls a question.

“What questions?”

“Why didn’t you heal yourself? All white lighters can unless it’s a dark lighter arrow. And it wasn’t. So…?”

Oh crap. Umm…what the hell do I say!? “Well, I don’t know what it was. It could have been something not seen before…?” Chris lied. He has never been able to heal himself. But do the girls know?

“Stop lying to us.” Phoebe said.

“You’re not a white lighter, are you?” Paige asked.

“Of course I am! You have seen me orb!” Chris cries, in the hopes that they will drop the subject. He cannot slip up.

“Chris. I am trying to be nice here, but that isn't easy to do when you are obviously lying to us.” Piper says, trying to keep her temper under control. Chris doesn’t want to lie, but he can’t tell the truth. So he doesn’t say anything.

“Tell us.” Phoebe says.

“I can’t. If you want me to tell the truth, I can’t do that. At least not now. I don’t want to lie, but I can’t tell the truth.”

“Chris, I am gonna give you one more chance to tell us what is going on.” 

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but we are sick of this. I’m calling the Elders.”

Whispers Through Time: {~A New Arrival~}

Summary: After being mysteriously transported into the world of House of the Dragon, a modern-day woman poses as a seer to gain entry into the Targaryen court. Armed with knowledge of the future, she secretly warns Rhaenyra and Daemon of looming dangers while hiding her true identity. As she grows closer to both, romantic tension builds, but so do the risks of her deception. With Daemon's suspicions rising and Rhaenyra’s trust deepening, the reader must navigate her lies while trying to alter their tragic fate—before everything unravels.

Characters: Rhaenyra & Daemon

Pairing: Rhaenyra x Fem!Reader x Daemon

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1293

Chapter 1 --- Chapter 2

The biting chill of the wind gnawed at your skin as you stumbled through an unfamiliar landscape, its vastness stretching out before you. It was hard to pinpoint exactly when the world around you had shifted, but the change was undeniable. Your memory still clung to the familiar buzz of the modern world—the sound of car engines, the hum of streetlights, and the constant tap of your shoes on concrete. But now, all that was gone, replaced by a stark silence that only heightened your disorientation. The horizon before you seemed endless, filled with tall hills covered in thick mist, and in the distance, a looming structure—a castle—stood proudly, its towers piercing the dreary sky.

This couldn’t be real. It felt too surreal, like a dream pulled from the pages of some historical fantasy novel. You had always been fascinated by the medieval period and Westeros in particular, but that fascination never prepared you for this. And yet, everything felt too vivid to be a dream—the sharpness of the cold, the heavy scent of damp earth, the distant call of gulls swooping down from the cliffs nearby.

Your breath caught in your throat, and a familiar panic began to rise. You could almost feel your heart pounding, each beat growing louder in your ears. Logic screamed that this couldn’t be happening. You were walking home after a long day, when—there! That light. The blinding flash that enveloped you and carried you here. You clenched your hands into fists, grounding yourself, and let the question form properly: Where am I?

Slowly, as you took in your surroundings, the faintest flicker of recognition sparked. That castle, those towers—it looked eerily familiar. The realization hit you hard, and your knees weakened. This was not just any castle, but one you had seen countless times in books, on screens. Westeros. You had somehow, impossibly, been transported to the world of the Targaryens, Velaryons, and the Seven Kingdoms.

"Gods…" you whispered, though you weren’t sure if you were calling to them or cursing them. How could this be possible?

Panic began to bubble up in your chest, but you bit it down. Now wasn’t the time to lose your head. Whatever force had brought you here, it clearly didn’t care about your confusion. You were stranded in a world you had no right to be in, with no clear path home. But you were nothing if not resourceful, and survival instinct kicked in fast. First things first: you needed a cover story.

You looked down at your clothing—your jacket, jeans, and shoes entirely inappropriate for this world. You’d stick out like a sore thumb if you didn’t do something, and quickly. And then, as if fate wanted to test you immediately, you noticed a figure making their way toward you—a villager, maybe, wrapped in furs, their weathered face twisted in confusion at the sight of you.

Without hesitation, you pulled the hood of your jacket up, hiding as much of your appearance as possible, and let an idea form. You needed to be someone important, someone with a skill that would grant you entry into the castle ahead. You thought of the people in this world—superstitious, often lacking in medical knowledge, and prone to reverence for those who claimed to possess sight beyond the ordinary.

A midwife. A seer.

That was the way in. You straightened up, quickly rehearsing a story in your head. You could remember enough of the history of this time—enough about the impending conflicts and players involved—to convince someone of your abilities. And if you could do that, you might just survive.

The villager had reached you by now, his eyes flicking over your strange attire, suspicion evident in his gaze.

"You… you lost, stranger?" His accent was thick, the words harsh against the wind. He looked you up and down, frowning deeper as he noticed your modern shoes.

Clearing your throat, you adopted the air of someone who belonged here, someone important. "I’ve come from far away," you began, your voice steady, "I am a midwife, and a gifted seer. I’ve been summoned—by fate itself—to serve the realm."

His eyes narrowed. "A seer, eh? And who exactly called ye?"

You squared your shoulders. "Not who. What." You let the pause linger, allowing the weight of your words to sink in. "There are things at play in this world that go beyond your understanding. I see them—glimpses of what’s to come. And I’ve come to ensure the safety of those in power, to warn them of the dangers that await if they do not heed my counsel."

The villager hesitated, doubt still clouding his expression, but he seemed unsure now, weighing your words. Superstition held great power in this world, and the idea of turning away someone who claimed to have foresight was a dangerous gamble. Finally, with a curt nod, he motioned to the road leading toward the castle. "You’ll want to speak to the men at the gates, then. They'll decide if yer needed."

You gave a small nod in return, keeping your expression controlled, though relief washed over you. You began to walk, your thoughts racing. You had taken the first step, but getting into the castle was just the beginning. Once there, you would need to convince people far more powerful and skeptical than a simple villager. Rhaenyra, Daemon, the Velaryons… the very people who would shape the future of Westeros.

As you approached the castle’s towering gates, the sheer size of the fortress became overwhelming. The walls stretched upward, casting long shadows over the ground. Your breath quickened as the guards came into view—men clad in armor, their hands resting on swords as they watched you approach. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself.

One of the guards stepped forward, his face stern beneath his helmet. "State your business," he demanded, his voice rough and authoritative.

"I am a midwife," you repeated, keeping your voice steady. "A seer. I have been sent here to serve the realm, to offer counsel to those in power." You met his gaze directly, hoping to convey confidence. "I see things—glimpses of what’s to come. And I know that there are dangers on the horizon. I must speak with those who rule, for their own safety."

The guard raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "A seer, eh? You’ll forgive me if I don’t take your word at face value. We get all kinds at these gates."

You expected resistance, and you had your response ready. "I understand your doubt, but let me offer you this—" You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice. "There will be an attempt on the life of someone in power here soon. It will come from within, not without. If I am wrong, you may throw me to the wolves. But if I am right, you will have failed in your duty to protect this castle."

The guard’s expression faltered for just a moment, a flicker of uncertainty passing across his features. He glanced at his fellow guards, then back at you. Finally, with a curt nod, he stepped aside. "I’ll let the master-at-arms know. If you’re lucky, you’ll get your audience."

You stepped through the gates, your pulse quickening. Inside, the castle was a maze of stone corridors, each more imposing than the last. Servants moved quickly through the halls, and you kept your head down, trying to appear as if you belonged.

Your mind raced with the enormity of what lay ahead. You needed to get close to the right people—people who would believe your story. And the first name that came to mind was Rhaenyra Targaryen. The heir to the Iron Throne, a woman of strength and ambition. If you could win her trust, you’d have a chance.

Eternal Harmony: {~Forever Bound~}

Summary: Y/N's ordinary life takes a supernatural twist when they encounter the mysterious Cullen family in Forks. Immersed in a world of eternal love and trials, Y/N becomes a vital part of the Cullens' immortal story. Guided by Alice's visions and Jasper's wisdom, they face cosmic threats and navigate the complexities of supernatural existence. The story unfolds through eclipses of emotions and trials, culminating in a dawn where enduring bonds and love echo through the ages—a forever-bound journey in the supernatural realm.

Characters: The Cullen family

Pairing: Jasper x Reader x Alice

Warnings: No Warnings

Word Count: 536

Epilogue

The meadow, once a silent witness to the trials and tribulations of the Cullen family, now stood in the soft glow of the dawn. The night had unfolded like a celestial tapestry, weaving together moments of challenge, triumph, and unwavering unity. Y/N, having navigated the unpredictable currents of the supernatural realm, found themselves standing on the threshold of a new era.

Alice, her eyes holding the wisdom of ages, turned to Y/N with a serene smile. "The trials have sculpted our destinies, and the bonds forged in the crucible of challenges are unbreakable. This is a moment of renewal, a dawn that heralds a new chapter."

Jasper, the empathetic one, added, "We faced the trials together, and in doing so, we discovered the strength that lies within our unity. The supernatural world may be complex, but our love and resilience defy its intricacies."

As the first rays of sunlight bathed the meadow, the Cullens gathered—Edward and Bella, Emmett and Rosalie, Carlisle and Esme, Alice and Jasper—each member carrying the weight of centuries with grace and resilience. The howls of distant wolves echoed through the forest, a reminder of the intertwined destinies that transcended both time and mortality.

Y/N, embraced by the immortal family, felt a sense of belonging that surpassed the constraints of human understanding. Alice, ever attuned to the cosmic currents, turned to Y/N. "You've become an integral part of our story, Y/N. Your presence has added a unique hue to the canvas of our immortal existence."

Edward, the guardian of secrets, spoke with a warmth that hinted at the eons of experience. "In the embrace of eternity, we find not just love but a shared journey that defies the limitations of mortal narratives."

Emmett, with his infectious enthusiasm, threw an arm around Y/N. "Welcome to the forever club! It's a wild ride, but with this family, you'll never be alone."

Rosalie, her demeanor softened by the dawn's light, offered a rare smile. "Trials may have tested us, but they've also shaped us. We endure, and in that endurance, we find the true essence of our immortal existence."

As the Cullens stood united in the meadow, the sun rose higher, casting a golden glow on the landscape. The howls of wolves blended with the rustle of leaves, creating a symphony that echoed through the ages.

In the quietude of the Pacific Northwest, Y/N and the Cullens stood hand in hand, their silhouettes painted against the canvas of the dawn. The meadow, witness to the trials and triumphs of the immortal family, seemed to breathe with the eternal rhythm of their existence.

Alice, her eyes reflecting the promise of forever, whispered, "This is not just an ending, Y/N. It's a beginning—a forever bound journey where love, resilience, and the mysteries of the supernatural realm intertwine in a symphony that echoes through eternity."

As the meadow embraced the warmth of the morning sun, the Cullens faced the horizon, ready to embark on a new chapter of their immortal saga. Little did they know that the tapestry of their existence, woven with threads of love and enduring bonds, would continue to unfold in the cosmic dance of forever-bound destinies.

Ethereal Bonds: {~Welcome to the Hunting Life~}

Summary: Y/N is transported into the show's world, joining forces with the Winchesters to face a cosmic threat. Together, they navigate interdimensional challenges, decipher prophecies, and confront an entity aiming to merge realities. The fanfic explores the blurring of fiction and reality, emphasizing the enduring bonds formed amidst the supernatural chaos.

Characters: Sam & Dean

Pairing: No Pairing

Warnings: No Warnings

Word Count: 410

Masterlist

The rhythmic hum of the Impala's engine filled the tense silence inside the car as Y/N rode shotgun, still processing the bizarre turn of events. The Winchester brothers navigated the dark, rain-soaked roads with practiced ease.

"So, let me get this straight," Dean began, casting a sidelong glance at Y/N. "You're from another dimension, where our lives are some sort of entertainment?"

Y/N nodded, their eyes wide with disbelief. "Yeah, that's pretty much it. I was just watching Supernatural, and now I'm here, hunting demons with you guys."

Sam's skepticism lingered. "And you know all about us from the show?"

"Every episode, every plot twist, every monster you've faced. It's like living inside a giant spoiler," Y/N admitted with a half-smile.

Dean chuckled, "Well, ain't that something. A walking, talking Supernatural Wikipedia."

As the Impala sped through the night, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the authenticity of everything—the sound of rain pelting the car, the creak of the leather seats, and the low growl of the engine. It was surreal to be a part of the world they'd only seen on a screen.

"So, you guys are real. The Impala is real. Everything's real," Y/N mused, looking out at the dark, foreboding landscape.

Dean smirked, "As real as it gets. And you? You're along for the ride until we figure out how to send you back to your 'normal' life."

As they arrived at a small town plagued by mysterious disappearances, Sam leaned forward, focusing on the task at hand. "Alright, we got work to do. Keep your eyes peeled, Y/N. If you know our playbook, this hunt might just get a whole lot easier."

The trio investigated the eerie occurrences, piecing together clues just like in one of the episodes Y/N had watched countless times. They faced a vengeful spirit, armed with salt and iron, and as the creature dissipated into nothingness, Y/N couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction.

Back in the Impala, Dean slapped Y/N on the back, a grin spreading across his face. "You're not just a spectator; you're one of us now. Welcome to the hunting life."

As they continued down the rain-soaked road, Y/N couldn't shake the surreal feeling that they were living out a fanfiction of their own. Little did they know, this unexpected alliance would lead to even more profound discoveries and challenges in the unpredictable world of Supernatural.

Charmed: Chris' Identity is Discovered {~Chapter 9~}

Summary: The Phoenix Clan is after Chris, and the sisters are trying to help. But there are many questions that they need answering. How long can Chris keep his identity a secret? [Before Chris-Crossed]

Characters: Charmed Ones, Bianca, Chris, Leo

Pairing: No Pairing

Warnings: Angst, Heartbreak

Word Count: 568

Masterlist

“Come on Piper. We should go.”  Paige called her sister.

“Coming!” Piper called back. Phoebe, Paige and Piper were getting ready to leave to go to the Elders, and to summon Chris. Piper entered the room, and Paige orbed her and her sisters to the heavens.

They appeared in the same room, with the same amount of Elders, if not the exact same ones.

“No sighting of Chris?” Leo asked, as soon as the sisters appeared.

“No. Nothing.” Paige answered.

“Shall we do this? I am eager to get answers.” Piper said, wanting to get started.

“Sure,” Leo said. “Do you have the spell?”

“Yes.”

“We are ready when you are.” Leo responded. The sisters held each other’s hands and began chanting the summoning spell. Not soon after Chris appeared in bright white lights. He was grinning. Why was he smiling?

“Christopher Perry.” An Elder chanted.

“Hmm…is anyone else getting déjá vu?” Chris muttered, sarcasm filling his voice.

“Chris, for the second time, please take this seriously.” Leo said. They may have had their differences in the past, but if Chris struggles, this will be painful, and he doesn’t want to see Chris in pain. Chris rolled his eyes at Leo.

“Let’s just do this. Do you want me to stand over there again?”

“Yes.”

“By the way, you could have warned me about the whole becoming unconscious thing.” He says, while walking to where he stood yesterday. No one responded to his comment.

“Will I be able to see what you see? In my mind, I mean.”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Go for it.” The Elders bowed their heads, Chris fell to the ground. The hologram-like screen appeared once more. The Elders raised their heads to watch the screen, as did the sisters.

A young boy appeared on the screen. He looks around 11 or 12, with brown rugged hair. Presumably Chris’ younger self. His surroundings were the sun room in the manor. He was smiling, except his hands were covering his eyes. He was counting.

“17…18…19…20!” Ready or not, here I come!” Chris yelled.

Leo and the sisters were smiling. Enjoying seeing younger Chris. But then, Chris said a name. Just one name that changed everyone’s smiles.

“Wyatt! Wyatt, where are you!” He called. He was looking around the manor, and as he entered the kitchen, a young boy came into view. He could only be a year older than Chris, 2 years at most. Wyatt.

“Sorry Chris! But to be fair, you didn’t say I couldn’t use magic until I had hidden!” He said, defending himself.

“Yeah, yeah. You say that every time!” He muttered.

“No I don’t. I think you just don’t like losing, because you know I am better at hiding than you.” Wyatt sneered.

“Are not!” Chris replied.

“Prove it.” Wyatt said. Just before Chris was about to disappear, Piper walked in.

“Woah boys, what are you two up to?”

“Playing hide and seek.” Replied Wyatt.

“He was using magic!” Cried Chrs, to Piper. Piper turned towards Wyatt.

“Wyatt, what have I told you about using magic when unnecessary?”

“Not to do it.”

“And yet you have.” Piper retorted.

“Sorry, mom.”

“Thank you for apologizing.” She leaned forward and kissed Wyatt on his head. “Go play.” She said, Wyatt smiled and left the kitchen.

“So Chris, wanna help me bake?”

“Your cookies?” Chris asked, his voice full of hope. Piper grinned.

“Yes.”

“Yes! Thanks, Mom.” 

Ethereal Bonds: {~A Bittersweet Farewell~}

Summary: Y/N is transported into the show's world, joining forces with the Winchesters to face a cosmic threat. Together, they navigate interdimensional challenges, decipher prophecies, and confront an entity aiming to merge realities. The fanfic explores the blurring of fiction and reality, emphasizing the enduring bonds formed amidst the supernatural chaos.

Characters: Sam & Dean

Pairing: No Pairing

Warnings: No Warnings

Word Count: 563

Masterlist

The transformed town, bathed in an otherworldly glow, stood as a testament to the cosmic struggles that had unfolded. Y/N, Sam, and Dean walked the streets, the air still tinged with residual energy from the convergence. The entity's ominous words lingered in the atmosphere, a reminder that the cosmic dance had left an indelible mark on their lives.

"So, what's next?" Y/N asked, the weight of the amulet in their hand a constant reminder of the extraordinary journey they had undertaken.

Dean shrugged, his eyes scanning the altered landscape. "Business as usual, I guess. Saving people, hunting things. Just another day in the life."

Sam chimed in, "But now, we have an extra hand. If there's one thing we've learned, it's that facing the unknown is easier when you've got someone by your side."

Y/N smiled, feeling a sense of camaraderie that transcended the boundaries of dimensions. "I never imagined I'd be a part of all this. It's like living inside my favorite TV show."

Dean chuckled, clapping Y/N on the shoulder. "Well, welcome to the Winchester family. We've had our fair share of weird, but hey, it keeps things interesting."

As they strolled through the transformed town, the trio encountered curious glances from the residents who, though unaware of the cosmic struggles, sensed the lingering supernatural energy. The Winchester brothers, accustomed to such odd occurrences, navigated the attention with practiced ease.

"So, what about the amulet?" Sam asked, eyeing the ancient artifact that had been the key to their journey.

Y/N hesitated, a mix of emotions swirling within. "I think I'll keep it. A souvenir from my time in the supernatural realms. Besides, who knows when I might need to hop back into action."

Dean grinned, appreciating the sentiment. "A hunter's gotta have their lucky charm. Just don't go opening any more portals without a heads-up, alright?"

The banter continued as they made their way to the Impala, parked in a spot that seemed both familiar and altered. As they prepared to hit the road, the transformed town fading in the rearview mirror, Y/N couldn't help but reflect on the incredible journey.

"So, what's the plan now?" Y/N asked, their eyes meeting the Winchesters'.

Dean shrugged, "We'll keep hunting, keep fighting. And who knows, maybe we'll stumble upon another cosmic mystery that needs unraveling."

Sam added, "And if you ever decide you want to go back home, we'll figure it out together. We owe you that much."

The road stretched ahead, an endless expanse of uncertainty and adventure. Y/N settled into the backseat of the Impala, the familiar creak of the leather seats providing a sense of comfort.

As the engine roared to life, Y/N looked out at the night, the stars twinkling above. The lines between fiction and reality had blurred, leaving behind a tapestry of memories that would forever weave their story into the fabric of the supernatural.

And as they drove into the unknown, Y/N couldn't help but feel a bittersweet mix of nostalgia and anticipation. The cosmic dance may have left its mark, but the journey had only just begun.

For in the world of the supernatural, where reality and fiction converged, the only certainty was the enduring bond between hunters, forged across dimensions, and the endless possibilities that awaited them in the vast expanse of the unknown.

Shadows and Starlight: {~Allies in War~}

Summary: Amid the chaos of war, a bitter rivalry between Edmund Pevensie and a formidable enemy leader begins to unravel into something deeper. As a fragile truce forms, both are torn between duty to their people and the undeniable connection growing between them. With political tensions rising, jealousies flaring, and the threat of battle looming, Edmund and the reader must navigate a delicate balance of loyalty, love, and sacrifice to secure peace—and each other

Characters: Edmund and Peter

Pairings: Edmund Pevensie x Gn!Reader

Warnings: Bit of angst

Word Count: 1529

Taglist: @snowtargaryen @hippiedippiekitty

Chapter 4 —

The sky was dark, the sun barely visible through the thick clouds that had gathered on the horizon. The tension had been building for days, both within the camps and between them. But no one had anticipated the attack. It came swiftly, without warning, a surprise assault from a third faction that neither Narnia nor your people had expected.

It started with the unmistakable sound of horns—shrill and urgent, cutting through the air like a blade. The camp erupted into chaos as soldiers scrambled to arm themselves, shouting orders and gathering into defensive formations. Edmund was among the first to draw his sword, his instincts kicking in as he barked commands to the Narnians.

You were already in the midst of the confusion, your own people mobilizing with the same urgency. It was as if the tenuous peace between your forces and Narnia had dissolved in an instant, replaced by the brutal reality of survival.

And then the enemy came.

They poured over the hills, armored and armed, a wave of dark figures that moved with ruthless precision. Arrows whistled through the air, striking down anyone too slow to react, and the sound of clashing steel filled the camp as the battle began.

You and Edmund found each other in the thick of it, your eyes meeting across the battlefield for a brief moment before the fighting consumed you both. There was no time for words, no time for hesitation. You moved as one, your swords cutting through the enemy with practiced ease, each of you watching the other’s back as you fought side by side.

Edmund’s focus had never been sharper, but as the battle raged on, he found his thoughts drifting back to you. Despite the chaos, despite the blood and violence that surrounded you, there was an undeniable connection—a trust that had grown between you over the course of these long, difficult weeks. Every movement you made was instinctive, as though you had fought together for years.

An enemy soldier lunged toward you, his spear aimed for your side, but Edmund was faster. He deflected the blow with a quick strike of his sword, knocking the soldier off balance and sending him crashing to the ground.

“Careful!” he shouted over the roar of the battle, his voice edged with concern.

You barely had time to nod your thanks before you were engaged with another opponent, your blade flashing in the dim light as you parried and struck with lethal precision. But even in the midst of the chaos, you couldn’t ignore the way your heart raced whenever Edmund was close—the way his presence seemed to anchor you in a way that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

The battle was fierce, with neither side willing to give an inch. But as the fighting dragged on, the enemy began to close in, their numbers overwhelming the defenders. You and Edmund were forced back toward the center of the camp, where the wounded were being tended to and the remaining soldiers regrouped.

At one point, you found yourself pressed up against a barricade, panting heavily as you tried to catch your breath. Edmund was beside you, his face smeared with dirt and blood, but his eyes were sharp and focused. He glanced at you, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you.

“We need to hold this line,” Edmund said, his voice rough but determined.

You nodded, gripping your sword tightly. “I’m with you.”

And then the fighting resumed.

Together, you and Edmund held the line, fending off wave after wave of attackers. There were moments when it seemed hopeless, when the sheer number of enemies threatened to overwhelm you. But each time, you found strength in the other, an unspoken understanding that neither of you would fall while the other still stood.

As the battle dragged on, something changed. The enemy’s attack began to falter, their forces scattering as the Narnians and your people fought back with renewed vigor. Soon, the attackers were in full retreat, disappearing over the hills as quickly as they had come.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of labored breathing and the distant cries of the wounded. The battle was over, but the cost had been high. Bodies littered the ground, and the air was thick with the smell of blood and smoke.

Edmund sheathed his sword, his chest heaving as he tried to steady himself. He glanced at you, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something raw and unspoken that made your heart clench.

“We did it,” you said, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Edmund nodded, but there was no relief in his gaze. “For now.”

Later, when the camp had begun to settle, Edmund found himself face-to-face with Peter. His older brother had been watching him closely throughout the battle, and now, with the fighting over, the questions could no longer be avoided.

“Edmund,” Peter’s voice was sharp as he approached, his blue eyes hard with suspicion. “We need to talk.”

Edmund tensed, knowing what was coming. He could see the concern in Peter’s eyes, the way his brother’s gaze flicked toward you, even as you stood on the other side of the camp, talking with your soldiers.

Peter’s words were low, but laced with accusation. “You’ve been reckless. Distracted.”

“I’ve been doing my job,” Edmund replied coolly, though his pulse quickened.

“Is that what this is?” Peter’s eyes narrowed. “Because it seems to me like your focus is elsewhere.”

Edmund clenched his jaw, refusing to meet Peter’s gaze. He had expected this confrontation for days now—had known it was inevitable. But that didn’t make it any easier.

“I’m focused on the battle. On Narnia,” Edmund said, but even he could hear the strain in his voice.

Peter didn’t let up. “Are you? Or are you too busy looking out for her?”

The accusation hit harder than Edmund had expected, and for a moment, he faltered. But then his anger flared, and he turned to face Peter fully, his expression hardening.

“She’s not our enemy,” Edmund said, his voice low but fierce. “Not anymore.”

Peter’s gaze sharpened. “And what happens when she turns on you? What happens when this fragile truce falls apart, and you’re too blinded by whatever this is to see it coming?”

Edmund’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “You don’t understand.”

“No,” Peter snapped, his voice rising. “I don’t. I don’t understand why you’re risking everything for someone who might betray us the moment it’s convenient.”

Edmund’s temper flared, and before he could stop himself, the words were out. “Because she’s different, Peter. She’s not like the others.”

Peter stared at him, his expression unreadable. “You’re letting your feelings cloud your judgment, Edmund. We can’t afford that right now.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the tension between them thick and heavy. Then, Peter’s voice softened, though the worry in his eyes remained.

“You’re my brother,” he said quietly. “I can’t lose you again.”

Edmund’s anger ebbed, replaced by a dull ache in his chest. He knew Peter was only trying to protect him, to keep him from making a mistake. But the problem was, it was already too late. He had let you in—had let his guard down—and now, there was no turning back.

The aftermath of the attack had left your people shaken. The sudden assault had forced your forces to fight alongside the Narnians, and while it had been a necessary alliance, it left many of your soldiers uneasy.

In the command tent, your most trusted advisors were gathered, their faces grim as they discussed the events of the day. The question on everyone’s mind was the same: Could they trust Narnia after what had happened?

“We were caught off guard,” one of your commanders said, his voice heavy with frustration. “We can’t afford to let that happen again.”

You nodded, but your thoughts were elsewhere. You couldn’t stop thinking about Edmund—about the way he had fought beside you, the way he had protected you without hesitation. There was a bond between you now, something deeper than just a shared battle. But how could you reconcile that with the distrust your people felt toward Narnia?

“We need to be careful,” another advisor said. “The Narnians may have helped us today, but that doesn’t mean they won’t turn on us tomorrow.”

A heavy silence settled over the room, and you felt the weight of your position more acutely than ever. You were their leader, the one they looked to for guidance. But how could you lead them when you weren’t even sure where your own loyalties lay?

“I trust Edmund,” you said finally, the words escaping before you could fully think them through.

Your advisors exchanged uneasy glances, but no one spoke. The truth was, they had seen the way Edmund had fought for you today. They had seen the way the two of you worked together, how you moved in sync, almost as if you had been allies from the start. But trust was fragile, and with war looming on the horizon, any misstep could be disastrous.

{~ Charmed Masterlist~}

{~NON READER STORIES~}

[Series]

Chris Identity Revealed

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter10

[One-Shots]

Chris Halliwell:

-Secrets in the Halliwell Manor

Charmed: Chris' Identity is Discovered {~Chapter 3~}

Summary: The Phoenix Clan is after Chris, and the sisters are trying to help. But there are many questions that they need answering. How long can Chris keep his identity a secret? [Before Chris-Crossed]

Characters: Charmed Ones, Bianca, Chris, Leo

Pairing: No Pairing

Warnings: Angst, Heartbreak

Word Count: 862

Masterlist

Chris was still wondering, who could be after him? Could it be Wyatt? Could Wyatt have sent an assassin after him. Well, he has done worse. Chris winced as he remembered the memories that have scarred him for life, literally.

“Hey Chris,” Piper Appeared by the playpen in the attic. Chris jumped slightly. Piper smiled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine. I was just a little distracted, I didn’t see you come up.” He admitted.

“Any progress?” She asked.

“Not really. I mean, I have made a few strong vanquishing potions, but what’s the point?”

“Chris, they are after you! Don’t say ‘what’s the point’!” She exclaimed, shocked at his words.

“I mean, even if we vanquish the Phoenix who is after me, they will just send more. We need to find out why they are after me. And it says in the book, someone hires them. Who? Who is after me? There is just a lot to figure out. And we don’t have a lot of time.”

“Wow, I guess I never thought of that.” Piper admits.

“Piper, I will just go to P3. I don’t want to endanger you or Wyatt.” 

“They aren’t here yet.” She reminded him.

“But they will be…” He added.

“Way to kill the mood.” She said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. He smiled at her. She sat on her grandmother’s couch once she was certain her son was okay.

“Did Leo orb down at all while I was having my nap?” She asked.

“No. Sorry Piper.” 

“It’s fine.” She smiled, but the smile didn’t quite meet her eyes.

“You know what. You shouldn’t have to suffer through this. It’s Leo’s loss. Not yours. You have your sisters at your side, your safe son, a bitchy white lighter to help babysit whenever your amazing and successful job. Plus, all the magical powers you could ever ask for. Please, Pipe, don’t let Leo put you down. You deserve better. I mean, right now, he is probably in a room full of Elders wearing robes acting all serious. And, you know what, they say they are good people. But you guys, here on Earth, are the ones who are fighting and putting yourself in danger for the greater good. What do they do? Come down and heal us every once in a while.

And they say, THEY do the most. They aren’t worth it Piper. Please, don’t feel like that.” She looked stunned.

“Wow. That’s one hell of a speech you got there. How long have you been practicing that one?” She asked. He smiled.

“Well, in case you haven’t figured out by now, Elders aren’t exactly my favorite people.”

“Lucky for you, I have been observant. I have noticed that. Why? I mean,  I have a ton of reasons, as you know. But, I am curious as to why you don’t like them.” 

“You want the list?” He asked. She nodded.

“If you want to tell me.”

“I do. Well, when I was a teenager, my mother. Um…my mother was hurt so I called an Elder or a whitelighter down. And well, they were too late. And she died. AndI asked why they didn’t come sooner. And they said they didn’t think it was important. They never care about anyone else apart from themselves. And when I became a whitelighter they think they can dictate who I have a relationship with. And what I do with my time. And that isn’t right. They have too much power. I mean sure, they are the ‘good’ guys. But, they take witches for granted. They take everyone for granted. And as long as they are happy and safe, nothing else matters.” He looked down, not wanting Piper to see him like this. He said too much.

“I am sorry you had to go though that. Were you there when your mother died?” She asked. He nodded. Not wanting to say anything.

“I’m sorry. Was your mother a witch then?” Again, he nodded.

“Okay Chris, I have to ask. You seem to know a lot about us. Phoebe, Paige, Wyatt, and me. How? I mean, the other day you struggled to open the drawer in the sunroom, and you tapped it in the exact right place for it to open well. No one knows stuff like that if you don’t know the people. Do we know you? Are we going to know you? Do we know your family?” He moved his gaze up to meet hers finally.

“Piper, I know you are sick of me saying this. But, I can’t really tell you anything about myself. Future consequences. But I promise, you will know everything there is to know about me. And soon.” 

“Okay. Thank you for telling me that about yourself.” She said,

“It’s okay. I am going to go into the Underworld, to see if anyone knows who has hired the Phoenix to come after me.”

“Okay. Phoebe messaged me. She will be home in a few minutes. Go on, be safe.”

“I will.” He smiled warmly at his mother and orbed away to the Underworld to see if he could get any answers.