[One-Shots]

Charmed: Chris' Identity is Discovered {~Chapter 8~}

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: 440

Masterlist

Chris’ eyes slowly fluttered open, and smiled at where he was and who he was. They were lying on the couch in the back room of P3. Naked, barely covered by the sheet and limbs entwined. He looked down at Bianca. Her brown hair sprawled across his chair. Her olive skin shimmering in the morning sun. He smiled at her. He missed her, of course he missed her. But he didn’t realize just how much he missed her until she was here. Slowly her eyes open, obviously irritated at the early morning sun. She shifted slightly then looked up at Chris. Her smile grew.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Chris said.

“Good morning, beautiful yourself.” Bianca responded. “How long have you been awake?”

“Only a few minutes.”

“Good. Do you have to deal with the sisters and the Elders today?”

“Probably.”

“Are you sure they didn’t see anything from your memory?” Bianca asked, worried for her fiancé.

“I’m sure. I think you intervened just in time, before they saw anything.”

“Good. When is your mom going to be pregnant with you?”

“Within the month,” Chris replied.

“Not long then.” 

“But, I’m not even sure it will happen.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, I had to break Piper and Leo up earlier than they did, in order for me to become their white lighter. So, without thinking I broke up with my parents before they even conceived me…” Chris said, his voice quiet. Bianca sighed.

“Well, maybe if you tell them about yourself. They might…you know…”

“I have thought of that. But then I think they might get a little performance anxiety.” Chris responded, a little uncomfortable.

“Wekk, what’s worse, not being conceived at all, or having a good chance you are going to be conceived but your parents might find it a little weird.” Chris smiled.

“I guess.”

“No, not ‘I guess’. I am not having you jeopardize your existence. Like it or not Chris. They need to know.”

{~Back at the Manor~} 

“Phoebe! Paige!” Piper called from the dining room. She heard footsteps making their way down the stairs.

“What?” Paige asked.

“I thought we deserved a treat.” She announced and showed her two sisters the dining table. Food. Masses of food cover the table; pancakes, bacon, eggs, fruit, brioche and waffles.

“Woah. You’ve gone all out.”

“Yeah. Well, I thought we deserved to celebrate a little. Today we might actually get some answers. Plus, I haven’t cooked this much in a while. And I love cooking.” Piper stated. Phoebe and Paige were still standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Well, come on. Don’t just stand there. Help yourselves.”

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.

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: {~A New Arrival~}

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

Characters: Rhaenyra & Daemon

Pairing: Rhaenyra x Fem!Reader x Daemon

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1293

Chapter 1 --- Chapter 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A midwife. A seer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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😭

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.

Hello! I was the one who put in the Edmund request :)

Your writing is so beautiful and descriptive omg <3

If you could make it a series, I'd be vv grateful! And !Jealous Edmund>>>

Once again, loved your writing <3

Shadows and Starlight: {~The Clash of Swords~}

A/N: First I would really like to apologize for taking so long to get this out! I was moving and had honestly lost motivation for writing and just could not get anything out. I am also a junior in highschool so I have been busy with school. But, I am now on my Christmas break so I will be posting one chapter every single day to make up for the lost time. Since I have missed yesterday, I will be posting the second chapter of this story later today! I love you guys so much and I really appreciate your patience!❤️

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 Pevensie

Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x Gn!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1674

Taglist: @snowtargaryen @hippiedippiekitty

Chapter 1 —

The battlefield stretched out before you like a storm on the horizon—chaotic, dangerous, and all-consuming. The metallic clash of swords, the dull thud of arrows striking shields, and the war cries of soldiers filled the air, creating a symphony of war that pulsed in your veins. But amidst the carnage, amidst the chaos and confusion, there was only one person you were focused on—Edmund Pevensie.

You saw him long before he saw you, cutting through the battlefield with swift precision, his sword moving as an extension of his arm. He was brutal and efficient, taking down every opponent who dared cross his path. The youngest king of Narnia had become your greatest rival, the one opponent you could never truly defeat, and today would be no different—or so you told yourself.

As you watched him, a bitter taste formed in your mouth. Edmund Pevensie—so full of confidence, so sure of himself—fought like he had nothing to lose. But you knew better. You had seen him falter before, had noticed the subtle cracks in his armor during your past encounters. Today, you would exploit them.

Your grip tightened on the hilt of your sword as you wove through the battlefield, dodging stray arrows and blocking attacks from nameless soldiers. Your eyes never left Edmund, and with each step, you felt the weight of your unresolved rivalry bearing down on you. It had been this way for years, an endless dance of blades and blood, but today, it felt different. There was something heavier in the air, something that made your heart pound with more than just adrenaline.

Finally, Edmund’s gaze locked with yours across the battlefield, and you saw the flash of recognition in his eyes. His jaw clenched, and his body tensed as he prepared himself for the inevitable clash. You could practically feel the electricity in the air between you, the tension coiling tighter with each passing second.

Without another thought, you charged toward him, your feet pounding against the muddy ground. Every other battle faded into the background as you closed the distance between you, your focus narrowing to the point where nothing else mattered but the fight that was about to take place.

Edmund met your charge head-on, his sword raised to intercept your strike. The clash of metal rang out like thunder as your blades collided, sending shockwaves through your arms. The force of the impact jarred your bones, but you gritted your teeth and pressed forward.

“Back again?” Edmund’s voice was cold, almost bored, as he parried your next strike with ease. “You never learn, do you?”

His words stung more than you cared to admit, but you refused to let him see the effect they had on you. Instead, you pushed harder, your sword meeting his with a furious intensity. “You’re one to talk, Pevensie,” you shot back, your breath coming in sharp bursts. “How many times do I have to beat you before you finally stay down?”

A grim smile tugged at the corners of Edmund’s lips, though there was no humor in it. “Beat me? That’s funny, considering the last time we met, you were the one on the ground.”

The reminder of your previous defeat ignited a fresh wave of anger within you. The memory of Edmund standing over you, his sword poised to end your life, was one you hadn’t been able to shake. But today, you vowed, things would be different.

You struck again, your sword whistling through the air with deadly intent. Edmund blocked the blow, his strength evenly matched against yours, and for a moment, the two of you were locked in a stalemate. The muscles in your arms strained as you pressed your blade against his, trying to force him back, but Edmund held his ground.

“You’re getting slower,” he remarked, his voice taunting. “Is this the best you’ve got?”

A growl of frustration escaped your lips as you pushed harder, finally managing to break the deadlock. You swung your sword in a wide arc, aiming for his side, but Edmund was too fast. He dodged the strike with practiced ease, and before you could react, he retaliated with a quick, calculated swipe that nearly knocked the sword from your hand.

Stumbling back, you cursed under your breath. Edmund’s fighting style had always been a mix of precision and brutality, and it was becoming clear that today would be no different. He was relentless, his strikes quick and unyielding, and though you were able to match him blow for blow, it was taking everything you had to keep up.

“You’re slipping,” Edmund said, his voice tinged with mockery as he lunged toward you again. “Getting tired?”

“Not yet,” you snarled, blocking his attack and countering with a sharp thrust of your own. Your sword grazed his arm, drawing a thin line of blood, and for the first time in the fight, you saw Edmund falter.

His eyes flickered with surprise as he looked down at the wound, and in that brief moment of distraction, you pressed your advantage. You swung your sword with renewed vigor, driving him back step by step. The tide of the fight had shifted, and for the first time in what felt like years, you could see a path to victory.

But then, just as quickly as it had appeared, your advantage was gone.

With a swift, almost casual motion, Edmund deflected your next strike and spun around, catching you off guard. His sword lashed out, sweeping your legs out from under you with a speed that left you breathless. Before you could even process what had happened, you were on the ground, the cold, wet mud soaking through your clothes.

You gasped for breath, your body aching from the fall. Pain radiated through your ribs, but before you could recover, Edmund was looming over you, his sword pointed directly at your throat.

For a moment, neither of you moved. You lay there, panting, staring up at him in disbelief. This was it. After all these years, after all the battles and near misses, it had finally come to an end. Edmund Pevensie had you at his mercy.

“Go on,” you spat, your voice rough and filled with defiance. “Finish it.”

Edmund’s face was expressionless as he stared down at you, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. His sword didn’t waver, the cold steel pressing lightly against the delicate skin of your throat. But despite his position of power, despite the fact that he could end this with a single strike, something in his eyes told you he wouldn’t.

“I’m not going to kill you,” he said quietly, the words so unexpected that they seemed to hang in the air between you.

You blinked up at him, stunned into silence. This was a trick. It had to be. Edmund had never shown you mercy before, so why now? “What?” you breathed, your voice barely audible over the din of the battle.

“I said I’m not going to kill you,” Edmund repeated, his voice steady but lacking the usual coldness that colored his words. He sheathed his sword and extended a hand toward you. “Get up.”

You stared at his outstretched hand like it was a viper about to strike. Your mind raced, trying to make sense of what was happening. This was Edmund Pevensie—your sworn enemy. The one person you had spent years fighting against, the one you had sworn to defeat at any cost. And now he was offering you his hand?

“What are you playing at?” you demanded, still lying in the mud, too stunned to move. “Is this some kind of game to you?”

Edmund’s gaze didn’t waver. “No game,” he said firmly. “This doesn’t have to end with one of us dead.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. This wasn’t the Edmund you knew. The Edmund you had fought time and time again would never say something like that. But as you searched his eyes, you realized that this Edmund, the one standing before you now, wasn’t the same boy you had fought all those years ago.

You hesitated, the weight of his offer hanging heavily in the air between you. Everything in you screamed to refuse, to push his hand away and continue the fight. But something in his eyes, something raw and unguarded, stopped you. It wasn’t just the offer of peace that he was extending—it was something deeper. Something unspoken.

Slowly, tentatively, you reached up and took his hand. His grip was strong as he pulled you to your feet, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to still. The battle continued to rage around you, but in that moment, it was as if the two of you were the only ones left.

You stood there, face to face, your hand still clasped in his. Your chest heaved with exertion, your body aching from the fight, but all you could focus on was the way Edmund’s gaze had softened, the way his eyes lingered on yours just a moment too long.

“What’s going on?” you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why are you doing this?”

Edmund’s jaw tightened, and for a brief moment, you saw a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “Because I’m tired of this,” he admitted, his voice low but filled with a sincerity that caught you off guard. “This war, this fight... it doesn’t make sense anymore.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything, a voice called out from behind you, cutting through the tension.

“Edmund!”

The sound of Peter’s voice brought you both crashing back to reality. You turned to see him striding toward you, his face set in a grim expression. Behind him, Susan stood with her bow drawn, her sharp eyes flicking between you and Edmund with suspicion.

Edmund quickly released your hand, his expression hardening as Peter approached. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had just shifted between you—something that couldn’t be undone.

Eternal Harmony: {~Whispers of the Future~}

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: 522

Chapter 3 --- Chapter 4

The meadow, bathed in the soft glow of the waning sunlight, felt like a sanctuary frozen in time. The rustling leaves overhead created a gentle symphony, and the distant murmur of the hidden stream added a soothing undertone to the atmosphere. As the Cullen family gathered, the air buzzed with an anticipation that transcended the boundaries of mortal understanding.

Alice, with her radiant smile, gestured towards Y/N. "Let me share some glimpses of the future with you." Her eyes unfocused for a moment, and the air seemed to shimmer with unseen visions. "I see moments, threads of destiny woven into the tapestry of time," she mused, her words carrying an ethereal quality.

Images flashed before Y/N's eyes—scenes of shared laughter, moments of profound connection, and challenges yet to unfold. It was as if the very fabric of destiny unfolded before them, revealing a path intricately intertwined with the fates of the Cullen family.

Edward, his golden eyes reflecting the wisdom of centuries, leaned in. "Alice's visions guide us, warn us. They are the whispers of the future."

Jasper, attuned to the emotions in the air, added, "We navigate the complexities of immortality with the knowledge that Alice provides. It's both a gift and a responsibility."

Y/N, caught between the allure of the supernatural and the weight of newfound knowledge, couldn't help but feel a sense of awe. "What do these visions reveal about me?" they inquired, their gaze shifting between the members of the Cullen family.

Alice's eyes met Y/N's with an intensity that seemed to pierce through the veil of reality. "Your presence is a catalyst for change, a divergence in the timeline that brings both challenge and growth. Embrace the uncertainty, for it is the very essence of our existence."

The meadow fell into a contemplative silence, each member of the Cullen family lost in their thoughts. The whispers of the future lingered in the air, leaving an indelible mark on the unfolding narrative.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the meadow, Carlisle, the patriarch, spoke with a measured tone. "Y/N, you're now a part of a family that spans generations. Our lives are intertwined in ways that go beyond the ordinary bonds of kinship. Embrace the journey, for it is both unique and eternal."

Esme, with a gentle smile, added, "You've entered a world where love knows no bounds. Each member of this family contributes to the melody that defines our existence."

The Cullens, standing in a tableau against the fading light, seemed to embody the duality of their existence—immortal beings navigating the intricacies of life, love, and destiny.

As the meadow embraced the tranquil stillness of the night, Y/N couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude. The whispers of the future had unveiled a path shrouded in mystery, and with each passing moment, the threads of their destiny wove tighter, creating a tapestry that spanned both time and eternity. Little did Y/N know that the choices made in the coming days would echo through the ages, shaping the very fabric of their immortal existence.

Eternal Harmony: {~Trials and Tribulations~}

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: 518

Chapter 5 --- Epilogue

The meadow, once illuminated by the ethereal glow of the eclipse, now bathed in the soft radiance of the stars. The night held a palpable tension, an anticipation of challenges that loomed on the horizon. Y/N, standing amidst the Cullens, felt the weight of the immortal world pressing against the fragile boundaries of their existence.

Alice, her every movement a dance with the unseen, turned to Y/N. "Trials are the threads that weave the tapestry of our journey. Each challenge is an opportunity for growth and understanding."

Jasper, the empathetic anchor of the family, added, "We face the trials together, drawing strength from our bonds. The supernatural world is unforgiving, but our unity is our greatest defense."

As the Cullens gathered, the night seemed to hold its breath. Edward and Bella, the immortal lovers, shared a silent communication that transcended words. Emmett, his robust laughter momentarily subdued, exchanged a knowing glance with Rosalie—a shared acknowledgment of the trials they had weathered over the centuries.

Y/N, seeking guidance in the starlit night, asked, "What challenges do we face? And how do we navigate this supernatural terrain?"

Alice's gaze shifted to the horizon, where shadows danced in the moonlight. "There are forces that seek to unravel the delicate balance we've forged. A cosmic entity, ancient and formidable, threatens the fabric of our reality. The trials ahead will test not just our strength but the very essence of our existence."

Jasper, ever attuned to the emotions in the air, added, "Our unity is our strength. As we face these trials, remember that our bonds are unbreakable. Together, we navigate the uncharted territories of the supernatural realm."

The night, with its silent promises and unspoken challenges, enveloped the meadow in a cocoon of cosmic energy. In that moment, Y/N felt the weight of destiny pressing upon them, a destiny intricately entwined with the immortal family that stood united under the celestial canopy.

As the Cullens prepared to face the trials that awaited, a distant howl echoed through the forest, and the moon cast its silvery glow on the path ahead. The journey into the unknown had begun.

Emmett, breaking the contemplative silence, grinned. "Bring it on! We've faced centuries of trials, and we're still standing. This is just another chapter in our never-ending story."

Rosalie, her expression resolute, added, "Our family endures. Trials may shape us, but they do not define us. We emerge stronger, together."

The night unfolded with a promise of challenges and triumphs, each member of the Cullen family prepared to face the trials that destiny had woven into the fabric of their immortal lives. In the cosmic ballet of existence, Y/N sensed a profound truth—that amidst the trials and tribulations, love and unity would remain their guiding stars. The meadow, witness to the unfolding saga, stood as a testament to the enduring spirit of those who dared to defy the supernatural forces that sought to unravel their immortal tale. Little did they know that the trials ahead would forge bonds even stronger, leaving an indelible mark on the very essence of their existence.