Chris Identity Revealed

Hello! How r u?

Hiii, im okay. Im really sorry for not uploading. I’ve been really busy with school and just haven’t been feeling that well lately.

Ethereal Bonds: {~A Rift in Reality~}

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: 426

Masterlist

The pitter-patter of rain against the window formed a soothing backdrop as Y/N nestled comfortably on the couch, a bowl of popcorn in hand, and Supernatural episodes playing one after another. The flickering light from the television cast dancing shadows across the room, creating an atmosphere of cozy familiarity.

Just as Dean Winchester was about to unleash one of his classic one-liners, a sudden flash of blinding light enveloped Y/N. It was as if the room itself rebelled against the laws of physics, and when the radiance finally subsided, Y/N found themselves standing on a desolate road surrounded by dense woods. The familiar hum of the Impala's engine caught their attention.

Blinking in disbelief, Y/N turned to see the iconic 1967 Chevy Impala, and before they could make sense of the situation, the car's doors creaked open, and the Winchester brothers emerged, guns drawn.

"Who the hell are you, and how did you just appear outta nowhere?" Dean demanded, his eyes narrowing.

Y/N stammered, "I-I'm just a fan! I was watching Supernatural, and now I'm here. This has to be some kind of dream, right?"

Sam exchanged a perplexed glance with Dean, who replied, "Dream or not, you better start talking before we decide to exorcize you."

With a nervous chuckle, Y/N tried to explain, "No, seriously! I was just watching you guys on TV, and then poof, I'm here. I don't even know how!"

"Supernatural? Is that some kind of voodoo?" Sam raised an eyebrow, his skepticism evident.

"No voodoo, no spells. Just a binge-watching session gone terribly wrong," Y/N replied, still trying to wrap their head around the surreal situation.

Dean lowered his gun but kept a wary eye on Y/N. "Okay, let's assume you're not some demon or shapeshifter. Why the hell are you here?"

Y/N's eyes widened with realization, "I think I've been transported into the world of Supernatural. Like, for real."

The Winchesters exchanged incredulous glances before Dean let out a short laugh, "This has got to be the weirdest thing we've ever encountered."

As the reality of the situation settled in, Sam sighed, "Well, if you're telling the truth, we might as well figure this out together. But no funny business."

With an uneasy truce, Y/N joined the Winchesters in the Impala, the rain tapping against the roof as they embarked on an unexpected journey into the unknown. Little did they know, the lines between fiction and reality were about to blur in ways that would defy even the supernatural.

When's the Edmund one coming? :D

It’s coming!!! I’m really sorry for the lateness and me just not uploading, just a lot of stuff going on in my life and I honestly just forget that I even have people actually enjoying my writing and waiting for more so I really do apologize and I’m about to post the 1st chapter, and I had lost like, everything so I am trying to figure that out.

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: {~Revealing the Truth~}

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

Word Count: 1106

Tag List: @snowtargaryen

Chapter 7 --- Chapter 8

The candlelight flickered over the faces of the trio, casting long shadows that danced across the cold stone walls. The weight of the moment settled thickly in the room, silence punctuated only by the soft crackle of the fire and the distant clatter of footsteps outside. The air between them felt charged, every breath heavy with anticipation.

Rhaenyra stood near the hearth, her hands clasped in front of her as she studied the reader with careful eyes. There was warmth in her gaze, but it was edged with something harder—uncertainty, perhaps even suspicion. Daemon lingered closer to the door, his presence as commanding as ever, though his expression was more relaxed. The subtle tilt of his lips suggested he found the situation amusing, though beneath the surface, he was every bit as alert.

The reader, caught between them both, felt the gravity of the moment. She had been careful, incredibly so, but now, the game was up. They had found her notes, pieced together the warnings and advice that had seemed to appear from nowhere. Rhaenyra had demanded this meeting, and Daemon, loyal to his wife, had come with her. Now, they wanted answers.

“You've been leaving us... these,” Rhaenyra started, holding out the parchment that contained the most recent warning, her voice calm but edged with steel. “Your words have proven to be true so far, but you’ve been hiding your intentions.”

The reader swallowed, her heart hammering in her chest. She had expected this moment to come eventually, but not like this—so sudden, with both of them confronting her. She tried to keep her face neutral, though she could feel her pulse quicken under Rhaenyra’s sharp gaze.

“I had to be cautious,” the reader said quietly, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. “You would not have believed me otherwise.”

Daemon moved closer, his eyes narrowing as he studied her, though his tone was teasing. “Oh, we’re well past the point of disbelief. You’ve proven yourself far too knowledgeable for a simple midwife.” He tilted his head slightly. “What exactly are you?”

Rhaenyra’s gaze flickered to Daemon briefly before settling back on the reader. “You claim to be a seer,” she said, her tone careful. “But your warnings, they seem almost too precise. Almost as if…” She trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air.

The reader took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. She had to choose her words carefully. “I never said I was a seer,” she corrected gently. “That is what you assumed.”

Rhaenyra’s lips tightened. “Then what are you? How do you know what’s coming?”

There was no easy answer. The reader had thought long and hard about this moment, about what she could say if they ever confronted her. She couldn’t reveal the truth—that she was from a world far beyond theirs, that she knew their history because it had already been written in her own world. It would make her sound mad. So, she offered them the best version of the truth she could manage.

“I have dreams,” the reader said softly, her eyes locking with Rhaenyra’s. “Dreams of things that have not yet come to pass. They are vague, fragmented, but I see enough to understand that some events... can be prevented.”

Rhaenyra seemed to consider this for a moment, her brows furrowing. “So you dream of the future,” she said slowly. “And you’ve used that knowledge to warn us?”

The reader nodded, feeling the tension between them ease slightly. “Yes,” she said, keeping her voice calm and measured. “I’ve only ever wanted to help.”

Daemon’s eyes flickered with something unreadable as he crossed his arms, leaning against the table. “And why help us? What do you gain from this?”

The reader hesitated. She couldn’t tell them the real reason—that she was trying to survive in a world that wasn’t her own, that she had no choice but to align herself with them because they were her best chance at safety. Instead, she chose the safest explanation.

“Because I believe in your cause,” she said finally, her voice soft but resolute. “I believe that you are the rightful rulers of Westeros. And I believe that the Seven Kingdoms will suffer if your enemies succeed.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes softened slightly, though there was still wariness in her gaze. “You could have come to me,” she said quietly. “You could have told me the truth from the beginning.”

The reader dropped her gaze to the floor, guilt gnawing at her. “I didn’t know if you would trust me,” she admitted. “I thought... if I could prove my knowledge first, if I could show you I was telling the truth...”

Daemon let out a low chuckle, though there was no malice in it. “You’ve certainly made an impression.”

The reader’s heart ached with the weight of her lies. She had never meant to deceive them, not really. She had only wanted to protect them from the terrible fates that awaited them if they followed the path history had laid out. But now, standing here in front of them, she realized how tangled things had become.

Rhaenyra moved closer, her expression softening as she placed a hand on the reader’s arm. “I understand,” she said quietly. “But if we are to trust you, there can be no more secrets between us.”

The reader nodded, meeting her gaze. “No more secrets.”

Daemon, who had been watching the exchange with amusement, finally pushed off the table and moved to stand beside Rhaenyra. “You’ve earned our trust,” he said, his voice low. “But make no mistake—we will be watching you closely.”

The reader felt a shiver run down her spine at the weight of his words. She had gained their trust, but it was fragile, precarious. One misstep, and it could all come crumbling down.

Rhaenyra’s hand lingered on her arm for a moment longer before she stepped back, her gaze still intent. “You will stay by my side,” she said firmly. “I want to know more about these dreams of yours.”

“And I,” Daemon added, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. “We will unravel your mystery, one way or another.”

The reader nodded, knowing that the path ahead was fraught with danger. But for now, she had bought herself time. Time to figure out what to do next. Time to find a way to prevent the future from unraveling before her very eyes.

As she left the room with them, she couldn’t help but feel the weight of their trust—and the danger that came with it—pressing down on her like a cloak of iron. There was no turning back now.

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: Chris' Identity is Discovered {~Chapter 1~}

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: 757

Masterlist

'Chris!' He scoffed as he heard the familiar noise of his family, no, his charges calling him. He groaned and orbed to the Halliwell manor. He landed in the attic and saw Piper, Phoebe, Paige, and Leo in the room. Baby Wyatt was also playing with his toys in the playpen by the door.

"Hey." He said, using a neutral expression.

"Hey, Chris," Phoebe said with a smile on her face. He smiled back at her warm expression.

"Chris, have you ever heard of this..." Paige glanced down at the book, "Phoenix?" She asked, getting straight to the point. She always liked that about his Aunt. No messing around, just getting straight to the matter at hand.

Oh god. "No." He lied. "Why do you ask?" He said, curiosity getting the better of him. The three sisters looked at one another. He frowned.

"Has something happened? Are they after you? Wyatt?" Chris said, his voice rising in pitch and volume with every word. He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, he quickly turned and saw Leo. Damn, I forgot he was here. But, hey, it wasn't the first time and it won't be the last.

"Don't worry Chris, they aren't after the girls, Wyatt," He started. "Or me for that matter." He added bitterly remembering that Chris had not taken the time to worry about him.

"Well, then why have you called me?" He asked, a little irritated as he had better things to be doing than sitting around here chatting about useless crap. Once again they all looked at each other, not knowing what to say.

"For heaven's sake! What is it?" Chris said, his mouth forming a hard line.

"They are after you," Piper said, boldly. Before Chris could react, Piper explained further. "Look, they are a group of witch assassins, with demon-like powers. Energy balls, shimmering, the works. But don't worry about this Chris. We will stop them before they have even had the chance." Piper finished, with a confident look on her face.

Chris smiled at his mother, always protecting others before herself.

"Thank you, Piper," Chris said, but then he frowned when he realized something. "Hang on, how do you know they were after me in the first place?" He asked.

Phoebe opened her mouth to explain, but Leo beat her to it.

"They came here, Chris, to the manor. Looking for you." Leo said, with a small amount of worry. Chris found this slightly awkward. Oh finally starting to care. Only 22 years later

"I got a bruise and a small cut out of the deal but I'm fine. Leo healed me." Piper said, with a smile. Why is she smiling?

"You were hurt, why didn't you call me?" Chris whined.

"Firstly, Chris, you can't heal. And secondly, the witches were after you. It isn't the smartest thing to do is to just hand you over to them, as their next snack!" Piper exclaimed.

He looked down, knowing full well that she was right.

"Well, thank you," Chris said, a little reluctantly. "But wait, if they are after me. I can't be near you guys. I don't want you to get hurt because of me." He said.

Phoebe smiled. "Chris, we are the Charmed Ones. It's kinda what we do. You know, protect the innocent. That just so happens to be our Whitelighter."

He frowned and moved towards the Book of Shadows.

"Can I look at that entry?" He asked, no one in particular in the room.

"Sure." Paige moved out of the way, so he could see the entry and the birthmark he had seen on multiple occasions. He frowned slightly. Bianca. God, she would be like 5/6 years old now.

"I need to find out why these people are after me. It says here they never stop until they have killed or captured their bounty." He claimed he didn't even need to look in the book for that. He already knew full well, their M.O.

The three girls nodded in unison. Leo heard a jingle and looked up. Piper's whole body instantly sagged. Leo looked at Piper.

"You said, you would spend time with Wyatt today," Piper said, with irritation.

"No, Piper. I said I would try. I'm sorry but I really need to go." He looked around at Chris. "Good luck, and try to keep me updated." He added.

"Sure," Chris replied. Why would he care?

Leo looked once more adoringly at his son and wife. No. His ex-wife. And orbed up to the heavens.

SORRY! Plus announcement!!!

Well, first of all, I just want to apologize for not posting and updating my House of the Dragon series!!! I have just been really busy and just not had the time so that is why I have decided to post TWO chapters for ya'll! I hope you guys enjoy it! The next thing I have to say is that right when "Whispers Through Time" is finished (10 chapters only!!) I WILL be starting the next series trying to go based off of that request for my Edmund Pevensie one-shot since they have now requested to make it a series so I really hope you guys end up enjoying that as well! That's all! "Whispers Through Time" is almost finished so I hope you guys enjoy the last few chapters that I have made! Thanks! Have a good day/night!!!!

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.”

Whispers Through Time: {~Meeting Daemon~}

A/N: I am so sorry I have not posted chapter 3, I have been really busy with school and had to catch up with all my work since I was really sick last week and missed a bunch of work!

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: 1243

Tag List: @snowtargaryen

Chapter 3 --- Chapter 4

Days had passed since you left the first note for Rhaenyra, and the subtle shift in her demeanor was unmistakable. While she had yet to confront anyone publicly, you could sense her wariness in the way she interacted with those around her. The seeds of doubt had been planted, and though you were relieved that your warning had reached her, the constant danger of being discovered hung over you like a storm cloud.

But it wasn’t just Rhaenyra’s growing caution that concerned you. Daemon Targaryen’s presence had become more frequent, and wherever he went, he seemed to move with a purpose that unnerved you. You had caught glimpses of him here and there—always watching, always listening. It was only a matter of time before your paths crossed again.

And then, one day, it happened.

You had been sent on an errand to deliver herbs to the maester’s chambers, a mundane task that took you through the winding corridors of the Red Keep. Your mind was preoccupied with the next note you intended to leave for Rhaenyra—one that would warn her of a more immediate threat from within her inner circle. As you turned a corner, lost in thought, you nearly collided with someone coming in the opposite direction.

Startled, you looked up—and your breath caught in your throat.

It was Daemon.

The Rogue Prince stood before you, his silver hair catching the light of the nearby torches. His violet eyes regarded you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you thick with unspoken questions. His gaze swept over you, as though he were trying to read your every thought, your every secret.

“Apologies, my lord,” you stammered, quickly stepping back and bowing your head to avoid his piercing stare. Your heart hammered in your chest as you prayed he would simply move on and forget the encounter.

But Daemon was not one to let things go so easily.

“You’re the midwife, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice smooth yet laced with something sharp, something dangerous.

“Yes, my lord,” you replied, keeping your tone as neutral as possible. “I was sent to deliver these herbs to the maester.”

He nodded, though his eyes never left you. “I’ve heard you’ve been quite useful since your arrival.” His words were casual, but you sensed the underlying suspicion. “Unusual for someone to earn such favor so quickly.”

“I only do what I can to be of service,” you said, trying to maintain your composure.

Daemon smirked, his lips curling into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Modest, too. How very noble of you.” He took a step closer, and you instinctively tensed. “And yet, you’ve managed to find yourself in quite a few interesting places around the Keep, haven’t you?”

Your pulse quickened. Did he know? Had someone seen you near Rhaenyra’s chambers? You forced yourself to remain calm, to hold his gaze without faltering. “I go where I am needed, my lord. Nothing more.”

His smirk widened, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course. You’re just a humble midwife, after all.”

The way he said it made it sound like a lie, like he knew there was more to your story than you were letting on. But you couldn’t afford to let him push you. Not here. Not now.

“I should be going,” you said, shifting the basket of herbs in your arms as an excuse to leave. “The maester is waiting.”

Daemon stepped aside, though his gaze followed you as you passed. “Take care,” he called after you, his tone laced with amusement. “The Red Keep can be… unpredictable.”

You didn’t respond, quickening your pace as you made your way down the hall. Only when you were far enough away did you let out the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

That night, as you sat alone in your room, the weight of the encounter with Daemon settled heavily on your shoulders. He knew something—maybe not everything, but enough to make him suspicious. And if there was one thing you knew about Daemon Targaryen, it was that he didn’t let things go easily. His curiosity was as dangerous as his sword, and now, it was fixed on you.

You had to be more careful.

But even as the thought crossed your mind, you knew that avoiding Daemon’s scrutiny wasn’t your only problem. You still had to deliver the next note to Rhaenyra. And this time, it would be even riskier.

The following day, the Keep was buzzing with activity as preparations for an upcoming feast were underway. Servants rushed through the halls, carrying linens, food, and other supplies, while the nobles discussed matters of the court. It was the perfect distraction.

You had written the second note the night before, the words carefully chosen to warn Rhaenyra of an impending plot by one of her closest allies. Slipping the note into the same alcove near her chambers would be tricky, especially with Daemon’s increased presence around the Keep. But you didn’t have a choice.

As you moved through the crowded halls, your mind raced with thoughts of how to avoid detection. The feast provided some cover, but there were more guards than usual stationed near Rhaenyra’s quarters. You would have to be quick.

When you finally reached the corridor leading to her chambers, you were relieved to see that the guards were distracted by a group of visiting nobles. Seizing the opportunity, you hurried toward the alcove and slipped the note into place, your hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline.

Just as you turned to leave, you heard footsteps approaching. Panic surged through you as you ducked into the shadows of a nearby column, your heart pounding in your chest.

Daemon.

He appeared at the far end of the hall, his expression unreadable as he spoke to one of the guards. You held your breath, praying that he wouldn’t notice the note—or worse, see you hiding. For what felt like an eternity, you stayed perfectly still, watching as Daemon scanned the corridor.

But then, as if by some stroke of luck, he turned and walked away.

You didn’t wait to see where he went. As soon as the coast was clear, you slipped out of the shadows and made your way back to the servants' quarters, your heart still racing. You had managed to leave the note without being caught—but just barely.

Later that evening, you found yourself on edge as you worked, your thoughts consumed by the possibility that Daemon was still watching. You had been careful, but how long could you keep this up before he—or someone else—figured out what you were doing?

As you went about your duties, you noticed Rhaenyra in the distance, speaking with one of her advisors. From where you stood, you couldn’t hear their conversation, but you could see the way her hand clenched tightly around the hilt of her sword, the tension in her posture unmistakable.

She had found the second note.

For a brief moment, her gaze flickered in your direction, but there was no recognition in her eyes. You were still a stranger to her, just another face among the many who served in the Red Keep. And yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that, in time, she would come to depend on your warnings more than she realized.

But for now, your secret was safe.

At least, you hoped it was.