Whispers Through Time: {~Unexpected Encounters~}

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.

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.

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.

{~House of the Dragon Masterlist~}

[Series]

{~Rhaenyra x Fem!Reader x Daemon~}

Whispers Through Time

A New Arrival

Secrets in the Shadows

Meeting Daemon

Whispers of Warning

Unexpected Encounters

Shadows of Suspicion

Revealing the Truth

Trials of the Heart

Unveiling Fate

Whispers of Destiny

[One-Shots]

Shadows and Starlight: {~Rising Tempers~}

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: Pevensie siblings

Pairings: Edmund Pevensie x Gn!Reader

Warnings: Slight angst

Word Count: 1582

Taglist: @snowtargaryen @hippiedippiekitty

Chapter 3 —

The sun had barely begun its descent, casting a muted orange glow over the Narnian camp. The truce had held for days, though the atmosphere was far from peaceful. Each morning, Edmund could feel the weight of every glance, every whispered conversation that ceased the moment he entered a room. The rumors had spread, despite his efforts to keep his visits to your camp discreet. And now, with tensions rising on both sides, it was becoming harder to ignore the widening chasm between his duty and his desires.

Edmund sat at the edge of camp, his back against the rough bark of an old tree, watching the horizon. The quiet of the evening offered little solace, only serving to remind him of the conflict he felt inside. He wasn’t sure when his focus had begun to waver—perhaps it was the first time he had looked into your eyes and seen more than an enemy. Or maybe it was when you had hesitated, just as he had, during that first brutal clash on the battlefield.

There was something about you—something that gnawed at him, made him question not only the war but his very role in it. Edmund had fought many battles, some far bloodier than this, but never before had he been so consumed with doubt.

He was startled from his thoughts by the soft crunch of footsteps approaching. He knew who it was even before he looked up. Lucy stood before him, her expression one of quiet concern.

“Ed?” she asked, her voice gentle, as though she didn’t want to startle him further.

“Lucy.” He forced a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re out late.”

“So are you,” she said, taking a seat beside him. She studied him for a long moment, her eyes filled with a kindness that Edmund had always appreciated. But tonight, that kindness felt like a mirror—reflecting back the turmoil he was trying so hard to hide.

Lucy didn’t say anything at first. She simply sat with him, her presence as soothing as the cool breeze that rustled through the trees. Finally, she broke the silence. “You’ve been distant.”

He winced at the truth in her words, but he didn’t deny it. “I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

“I’ve noticed,” she said softly, her gaze unwavering. “So has Peter.”

Edmund tensed at the mention of his older brother. He knew Peter was watching him closely—waiting for him to slip. Peter had always been protective, but lately, his protectiveness had morphed into suspicion.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Edmund muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “And I don’t want to hear it.”

“What do you think I’m going to say?” Lucy asked, her voice soft but firm.

“That I’m losing focus. That I’m letting my guard down.”

Lucy’s brow furrowed as she considered his words. “No, I wasn’t going to say that.” She paused, choosing her next words carefully. “I was going to ask if you’re okay.”

Edmund let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He turned to look at her, surprised by the genuine concern in her voice. It wasn’t an accusation. It wasn’t a warning. It was Lucy being Lucy—always seeing past the surface.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Lucy leaned in slightly, her expression softening. “Is it about her?”

He stiffened, caught off guard by her directness. Of course Lucy would have noticed. She had always been the most perceptive of them all, even when they were children. She could see past the masks they all wore, could read the emotions that others tried so hard to hide.

Edmund didn’t respond right away, but Lucy’s gaze remained steady. She wasn’t judging him. She was waiting—waiting for him to trust her with the truth.

“It’s complicated,” he said finally, his voice low.

Lucy nodded slowly, understanding more than she let on. “Ed, I don’t pretend to know everything about what’s going on. But I do know you. And I know that you wouldn’t be so torn if there wasn’t more to her than just... the enemy.”

Edmund’s chest tightened at her words. He didn’t deserve her faith. Not when he was keeping so much from his siblings—his family. But the thought of trying to explain everything, to put into words the connection he felt with you... it seemed impossible.

“Peter and Susan... they wouldn’t understand,” he said, almost to himself.

“Maybe not,” Lucy admitted. “But I think they’d listen.”

Edmund wasn’t so sure. Peter had always been the one to see things in black and white, right and wrong. And this—whatever this was between him and you—it didn’t fit neatly into either category.

“I can’t risk it, Lu,” Edmund said after a long silence. “Not yet.”

Lucy looked like she wanted to argue, but she held back. Instead, she reached over and placed a hand on his arm. “Just... don’t shut us out, okay?”

Edmund nodded, though a part of him knew it was already too late. He was too far in—too conflicted, too caught up in his own emotions to untangle the mess he’d found himself in.

It was late, the campfire casting a dim glow as you sat across from Edmund. The talks had gone well—at least on the surface—but there was an undercurrent of tension that neither of you could ignore.

“You seem distracted,” you noted, breaking the silence that had settled between you.

Edmund’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, but he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he leaned back slightly, letting out a slow breath. “I could say the same about you.”

You smiled faintly, though there was no humor behind it. “I think we’re both distracted.”

For a moment, the air between you was thick with the weight of unspoken thoughts. There were things neither of you could say—truths that lingered just beneath the surface, too dangerous to give voice to.

“You’ve changed,” Edmund said after a long silence, his voice soft but firm.

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his observation. “Changed how?”

“You’re not as... certain,” he said carefully, as though choosing his words with the precision of a warrior picking his strikes. “When we first met on the battlefield, you were... relentless. Unyielding.”

“And now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Now,” he said, his eyes locking onto yours, “you hesitate.”

The words hit harder than you expected, but you couldn’t deny their truth. You had changed. The war had changed you. But it wasn’t just the war—it was him. Edmund had wormed his way into your thoughts, into your very soul, and now you found yourself questioning everything you once believed in.

“Maybe I’m just tired,” you said, trying to brush it off, but the look in Edmund’s eyes told you he didn’t believe that for a second.

“You’re not tired,” he said quietly. “You’re conflicted.”

The fire crackled between you, the sound almost too loud in the heavy silence. You stared at the flames, trying to gather your thoughts, but Edmund’s gaze never wavered. He was waiting for you to speak—waiting for you to admit the truth you had both been avoiding.

Finally, you looked up, meeting his gaze head-on. “And what about you, Edmund? Are you conflicted?”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might not answer. But then he sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. “I am.”

It was the first time either of you had admitted it out loud, and the words hung between you like a fragile thread, ready to snap at any moment.

“I don’t know what this is,” Edmund continued, his voice barely audible. “But I know that it’s dangerous.”

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. “And yet here we are.”

He didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes said enough. He didn’t have an answer—neither of you did. All you knew was that the lines between friend and foe had blurred beyond recognition, and now, you were both caught in the middle of something neither of you could control.

In the command tent, Peter stood at the head of the table, his arms crossed as he stared down at the map spread before him. The other Narnians had already dispersed for the evening, leaving only Peter and Susan behind.

“He’s slipping,” Peter said finally, his voice tight with frustration.

Susan looked up from her seat, her expression thoughtful. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do,” Peter insisted, his blue eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and concern. “He’s distracted. He’s letting his emotions get in the way.”

“And you think you’re not?” Susan countered, raising an eyebrow. “Peter, you’re just as invested in this war as Edmund is. Maybe even more so.”

Peter’s jaw tightened, and he shook his head. “This isn’t about me. It’s about Edmund. He’s... different. He’s not himself.”

Susan stood, crossing the tent to stand beside her brother. She placed a hand on his arm, her voice soft but firm. “He’s growing up, Peter. He’s making his own decisions.”

Peter didn’t respond right away, his gaze fixed on the map before him. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, more subdued. “I just don’t want to lose him again.”

“You won’t,” Susan said softly. “But you need to trust him.”

Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know if I can.”

Whispers Through Time: {~Secrets in the Shadows~}

A/N: Omg, I am sooo happy that you guys are enjoying the series so far! I honestly was not expecting it but I am so happy! Here is Chapter 2 and I will be constantly putting out these chapters so you guys don't have to wait! Enjoy!!!!

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: 1107

Chapter 2 --- Chapter 3

The days since your arrival in the Red Keep passed in a blur of whispered conversations and cautious glances. Though you had gained entry to the castle by claiming to be a skilled midwife, you knew it wouldn’t be enough. You needed to do more if you were to truly alter the course of events as you remembered them. As you moved quietly through the halls of the Keep, your mind raced with thoughts of how to intervene without revealing too much of what you knew—or worse, revealing who you truly were.

You had managed to secure a small, modest room in the servants' quarters, far removed from the nobility. There, you spent your nights pondering the timeline, thinking about the key events that led to the Targaryens' fall, trying to remember details from history and lore that would be valuable in the days to come. Your knowledge of Westeros was fragmented at best—flashes of future events mixed with the uncertainties of living in this medieval world—but you were determined to find a way to help Rhaenyra, and perhaps, by extension, yourself.

As the wind howled outside your window one night, a sense of urgency crept over you. It was time to act. You needed to warn Rhaenyra about the threats that loomed within her own walls. But approaching her directly was far too dangerous—there were too many eyes, too much risk of exposure. You would have to find another way to communicate.

Sitting by the dim light of your candle, you pulled a scrap of parchment from the small desk and began to write:

"Princess Rhaenyra,""There are those close to you who hide their true intentions. Be wary of whom you trust, for some who smile to your face will one day seek to destroy you."

"A Friend."

You stared at the note for a long moment, rereading the words. It wasn’t enough—too vague, too cryptic—but it was all you could offer without putting yourself at risk. Folding the parchment carefully, you tucked it into your pocket. Now came the hardest part: delivering it without being caught.

The castle was quiet that night, the torches flickering dimly in the halls as the staff retired to their quarters. You moved through the shadows, your heart pounding as you neared Rhaenyra’s chambers. You had scouted the area earlier and noticed that servants would occasionally leave messages or small gifts in a niche near the entrance—just out of sight from the guards stationed at her door.

That would be your opportunity.

Keeping to the edges of the corridor, you made your way toward the alcove. The guards were still at their posts, but they seemed to be deep in conversation, their attention focused elsewhere. Silently, you slipped the note into the niche, ensuring it was partially visible so that whoever was meant to find it would do so.

As you turned to leave, you froze. A shadow moved at the far end of the hall. You ducked quickly behind a column, your breath catching in your throat as you watched the figure draw nearer. It was Daemon Targaryen.

Even in the dim light, there was no mistaking him. His presence was unmistakable—commanding, dangerous. You had heard the whispers about him, the rogue prince, the man who walked a fine line between loyalty and rebellion. The last person you wanted to cross paths with.

Daemon’s steps were slow, deliberate. He wasn’t headed for Rhaenyra’s chambers, but he was close enough that you couldn’t risk moving until he was out of sight. You stayed hidden, heart racing, as he passed by, his face unreadable in the flickering torchlight. He didn’t look your way, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was always watching, always aware.

When he finally disappeared around the corner, you let out a slow breath. You had come dangerously close to being caught. Without wasting another second, you slipped back into the shadows, retreating toward the servants’ quarters.

The next morning, the castle was buzzing with its usual activity. Servants bustled through the corridors, nobles conversed in hushed tones, and the guards maintained their ever-watchful presence. But there was an undercurrent of tension—a subtle shift in the atmosphere that hadn’t been there before.

As you went about your duties, you overheard snippets of conversation, mentions of a note that had been discovered outside Rhaenyra’s chambers. No one knew who had left it, and the guards were tight-lipped about the situation, but the news had spread quickly among the servants. There was speculation, of course, but no solid leads. Whoever had left the message had done so without being seen.

You kept your head down, focusing on your work, but your mind was racing. The note had reached Rhaenyra, but what would she do with the information? Would she take it seriously? Or would she dismiss it as a prank or a ploy?

Later in the day, as you moved through one of the upper corridors, you saw her. Rhaenyra Targaryen was standing by a window, her back to you, deep in conversation with one of her ladies-in-waiting. Even from a distance, you could see the tension in her posture, the way her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She was angry—no, more than that. She was disturbed.

The note had hit its mark.

You dared not linger, moving quickly past her chambers and back into the lower halls. The note had worked, but it also meant that you were now part of something far more dangerous. If anyone suspected that you were the one feeding Rhaenyra this information, your life could be at risk. And with Daemon’s ever-watchful eyes lurking in the shadows, you couldn’t afford to make a mistake.

That evening, as you returned to your room, you found yourself pacing, your mind turning over the events of the day. Daemon’s presence haunted you. Though he hadn’t seen you, you felt as though his gaze had lingered on you long after he passed. You knew you had to be careful, more careful than ever before. But as the days went on, Rhaenyra would come to rely on the warnings, and sooner or later, someone would begin asking questions.

You sat at your desk, quill in hand, staring at the blank parchment before you. Another note would need to be sent—this time, with more detail. But the risks were growing with each passing day. How long could you continue before someone discovered the truth?

As you dipped the quill into the ink, you pushed the fear aside. There was no turning back now. The game had begun, and you were determined to see it through.

Ethereal Bonds: {~Facing the Ultimate Evil~}

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: 624

Masterlist

The ritual reached its climax as the symbols on the ground illuminated the night. The ethereal glow of the amulet intensified, pushing back against the forces of convergence. The air crackled with an energy that was both awe-inspiring and foreboding.

As the trio chanted the final verses, a shadowy figure materialized in the periphery. The entity, a swirling mass of darkness and malevolence, sneered at their efforts.

"So, you think you can stop the inevitable?" it hissed, its voice echoing through the night.

Dean stood firm, shotgun in hand. "We've faced worse than you, pal. This convergence won't happen on our watch."

The entity chuckled, a chilling sound that sent shivers down their spines. "Your defiance is amusing, but you cannot comprehend the magnitude of this cosmic shift. Embrace the chaos, for it is unstoppable."

Y/N, feeling the weight of the amulet in their hand, looked at Sam and Dean. "We've come too far to back down now. Let's finish this."

With renewed determination, the trio continued the ritual, their voices resonating with an almost celestial harmony. The amulet's glow intensified, pushing back against the encroaching darkness. The entity writhed, its form contorting in agony.

But as the ritual neared completion, the entity unleashed a surge of power, causing the very ground to tremble. Shadows twisted and merged, threatening to swallow them whole.

Sam gritted his teeth. "We need to hold on! Just a little longer!"

The entity, realizing its imminent defeat, unleashed a final, desperate attack. Dark tendrils lashed out, threatening to extinguish the ethereal light of the amulet.

Y/N, caught in the midst of the cosmic struggle, felt a surge of strength. "Guys, I can't hold it much longer! We need to—"

Before they could finish, a blinding burst of light enveloped the entire area. The force of the convergence pushed against them, threatening to tear the very fabric of reality.

When the light finally faded, Y/N, Sam, and Dean found themselves standing in a familiar but altered landscape. The town, once shrouded in mist, now basked in a surreal, otherworldly glow.

"We did it," Sam breathed, glancing around in awe.

Dean smirked, slapping Y/N on the back. "Not bad for a first-timer, huh?"

As they surveyed the transformed town, a voice echoed from the shadows. The entity, weakened but not defeated, hissed, "You may have delayed the inevitable, but the convergence is still underway. You cannot escape the chaos I've unleashed."

Y/N, filled with a newfound confidence, retorted, "Maybe not, but we won't stop fighting. You underestimate the power of the Ethereal Key and the bonds that defy even the darkest of prophecies."

The entity recoiled, its form dissipating into the shadows. "This is not over, interlopers. The cosmic dance has just begun."

With the threat momentarily abated, Y/N turned to Sam and Dean. "What now?"

Dean grinned, holstering his gun. "Now, we keep on hunting. There might be more cosmic weirdness out there, and I don't know about you, but I'm not one to back down from a good fight."

Sam nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of determination and curiosity. "We'll figure it out together. And who knows, maybe we'll find a way to send you back home."

As the trio walked into the surreal glow of the transformed town, the echoes of the cosmic encounter lingered. Y/N, now an integral part of the Winchester team, couldn't help but marvel at the unpredictability of their journey.

Little did they know, that the bonds forged across dimensions would continue to defy fate, transcending the boundaries of reality and fiction. As they ventured into the unknown, the lines between worlds blurred, leaving them to face a future filled with cosmic mysteries and supernatural adventures.

Do u write smut?

To finally answer this question, I will if you want me to. I’m not a smut writer or smut type blog but if you guys want me to write a one shot about for it or to add a scene in a series, I will try my best. Wont promise that it’ll be good tho😭

{~Twilight Masterlist~}

[Series]

{~Alice x Reader x Jasper~}

Eternal Harmony

Fateful Encounter

Melody of Souls

Whispers of the Future

Eclipse of Emotions

Trials and Tribulations

Forever Bound

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.”