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

If you do Narnia fics, can you do one about Edmund Pevensie with !enemy reader? Ty <3

A/N: I just want to say thank you so much for the request! You are my second one and I really hope you enjoy this. This is a oneshot fanfic but if you want me to do a series for this prompt, I will do it just for you!

{~Between Shadows and Steel~}

Summary: In the midst of a fierce battle, you confront your sworn enemy, Edmund Pevensie, determined to end the war between your people and Narnia. But as your swords clash, Edmund’s unexpected words and actions challenge everything you thought you knew about him—and yourself. With the chaos of war surrounding you, a moment of vulnerability leads to an undeniable connection, forcing you to question whether you’re truly enemies or something more.

Characters: Edmund Pevensie

Pairing: Edmund x GN!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1178

The battlefield stretched out before you like an endless ocean of chaos. Warriors clashed with brutal force, their weapons ringing in the air, the ground beneath them soaked in the blood of the fallen. The cries of the wounded mingled with the roar of battle, and somewhere in the distance, you could hear the chilling shriek of a centaur as it fell to a barrage of arrows.

You stood on the edge of the fray, your chest heaving, sword in hand, watching as the skirmish raged on. In the midst of the melee, a single figure caught your eye. He moved like the wind—swift, agile, and utterly determined.

Edmund Pevensie.

The Just King of Narnia. And your enemy.

To you, he represented everything you’d fought against for years. Narnia’s expansion had forced your people into a corner, and you had sworn to resist. To fight until there was nothing left. But as you watched him now, cutting through your soldiers with practiced precision, doubt flickered in the depths of your mind.

You hated him—or so you told yourself. Yet, every time you crossed paths with Edmund, it felt as though there was something more beneath the surface. Something that made your heart pound in ways you couldn’t explain.

You gripped your sword tightly, the leather of the hilt biting into your palm as you steeled yourself. Today, you would confront him. Today, you would end this, one way or another.

With a deep breath, you charged toward him, weaving through the chaos, your eyes fixed on his form. Your footsteps were light but swift, your sword slicing through any obstacle in your path. The moment you reached him, you swung your blade, aiming for his unguarded back.

But Edmund moved faster than you anticipated. As if sensing your presence, he spun around, his sword meeting yours with a resounding clang. Your eyes locked, and for a moment, time seemed to stop.

“You again,” he muttered, his voice strained with exertion, but not without a hint of recognition.

“Don’t act so surprised,” you shot back, pushing against his blade with all your strength.

He smirked, his eyes gleaming with something that was neither fear nor anger, but something you couldn’t quite place. “I’m not. I just didn’t expect it to be this soon.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Then you should’ve been ready for me.”

The two of you danced across the battlefield, swords clashing with each strike, the sound echoing in the din of war. He was a skilled fighter, and you found yourself struggling to keep up with his speed. But you refused to back down. You had trained for this moment—prepared yourself for the inevitable confrontation.

Yet, as you fought, there was something different about this battle. Each time your swords connected, there was a spark in the air—an electricity you couldn’t ignore. Every time you stepped closer to him, it felt like the world was closing in, leaving only the two of you in its wake.

“You don’t have to do this,” Edmund said suddenly, his voice low, as if he could speak to you alone amidst the chaos.

You growled, frustration building in your chest. “And you don’t have to keep pretending you care!”

He blocked your next strike with ease, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. “What makes you think I’m pretending?”

That stopped you for a moment. Your sword hovered in the air as you stared at him, the words catching you off guard. His expression softened slightly, and you noticed that he wasn’t attacking as aggressively as he could have. In fact, it seemed as though he was holding back.

“You don’t know me,” you snapped, stepping back to regain your composure.

He sheathed his sword, making you pause. “I know enough.”

Before you could retort, a nearby explosion rocked the ground, sending dust and debris into the air. The shockwave threw you both backward, and you hit the ground with a grunt. For a moment, your vision blurred, the chaos around you fading to a dull roar.

When the dust settled, you found yourself staring up at the sky, dazed. But then, a shadow fell over you, and you blinked up to see Edmund standing above you, his hand outstretched.

“Let me help you,” he said, his voice steady despite the battle still raging around you.

You glared at him, but the strength in your arms had fled. Reluctantly, you took his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. His grip was firm, and for a moment, neither of you moved, your hands lingering together a little too long.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, breathless. Your heart pounded, but it wasn’t just from the exertion of battle.

Edmund’s expression softened. “Because I don’t want to see you hurt.”

The words hit you harder than any sword could. You stared at him, confused and conflicted. “We’re enemies,” you whispered. “You’re supposed to want to see me fall.”

His hand remained on yours, warm and steady, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected. “Maybe we don’t have to be enemies anymore,” he said softly. “We’ve fought for so long, but what if there’s another way?”

You wanted to argue, to push him away, but his words—his gaze—cut through your defenses. There was a sincerity in his eyes, a raw honesty that you hadn’t been prepared for. Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you let yourself wonder if he was right.

Edmund stepped closer, his voice barely a whisper now. “You don’t have to fight this war alone. You don’t have to carry this burden anymore.”

You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening as he inched nearer. The battlefield, the chaos around you—all of it seemed to fade away. There was only him. And for the first time, you realized how much you had been fighting against yourself, not just him.

“Why do you care?” you asked, your voice trembling.

He hesitated for a moment, his hand brushing against your cheek. The touch sent a shiver down your spine. “Because… I think I’ve been fighting against myself too,” he admitted. “I’ve hated this war as much as you do.”

You stared at him, searching his face for any sign of deceit, but there was none. Just vulnerability. A rawness you hadn’t expected to see in him.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned in, your breath mingling with his. His eyes flickered down to your lips, and for a heartbeat, the world stood still. Then, slowly, cautiously, he closed the distance between you.

His lips met yours in a tentative kiss, soft and warm, like a promise. Your heart raced, and for a moment, you forgot everything—the war, the pain, the years of hatred. All that mattered was this. Him.

When you finally pulled back, your breath was shallow, and his eyes were filled with a mix of relief and something deeper. “We don’t have to keep fighting,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

For the first time in years, you let yourself believe him.

Charmed: Chris' Identity is Discovered {~Chapter 6~}

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: 394

Masterlist

“Piper, you can’t!” Chris wines.

“Why the hell not!” Piper exclaims.

“Look, believe me, I want to tell you. Honestly, you have no idea how much I want to tell you. But I can’t, at least not yet. A month. Give me a month, and I will tell you everything.” “No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“How do I know that you won’t leave, come up with yet another lie to get you out of this. I am giving you two options, actually you know what, I will give you three. Tell us what is going on right now, the Elders will do a memory recall on you, or you can get the hell out of my house and leave my family alone!” She shouts. Chris’ head falls.

“Those are my options?”

“Yes.” 

“Can I think about it?” He asks, hoping he can get out of this.

“No.” Piper states stubbornly. Chris says nothing.

“Paige.” Piper says. Paige nods and orbs all four of them to the heavens. Chris suddenly looks around, quickly taking in his surroundings. 12 Elders are formed in a circle, Leo included.

“Christopher Perry.” One Elder announces.

“Congratulations, you can say my name!” Chris says, his voice full of sarcasm.

“Take this seriously Chris,”Leo says.

“What does it matter if I do? They are going to do it anyway.” Chris retorted. Suddenly Chris turned serious. “Is this going to hurt?” 

“Yes.” Leo responded. Chris winces.

“All this because I don’t tell them everything. Everyone has secrets!” Chris snapped at everyone in the room.

“Not this many. And not this important.” Piper responded before Leo could. There is nothing Chris can do anymore. His secret was coming out.

“What do I have to do?” He asks, his voice hushed.

“Stand over there, and try to clear your head.” Leo says. Chris looks over to where Leo had just pointed. Chris slowly walks to the spot and stands there.

“It’s gonna be pretty hard for me to clear my head.” Chris confessed.

“Well try harder then.” Piper snapped. Suddenly, Chris lost consciousness. And fell to the ground. The sisters looked shocked.

“It’s okay Piper. This is normal. He will be fine.” Leo soothed the sisters. Suddenly a hologram-like image appeared in the middle of the room. And before anything appeared on the screen. An explosion happened, and smoke filled the room.”

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

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: 482

Masterlist

Piper rolled her eyes. Then shrugged.

"So Chris, pissed off any assassins lately?" She asked, with a smile on her face. This wasn't fair, she shouldn't have to raise Wyatt alone and Leo just left at a moment's notice.

"Not as far as I know." He said, he opened his mouth to say more but the loud annoying noise of a phone rang through the attic. People rolled her eyes, dug her phone from her pocket, and answered the call.

"Hello?... Elise, this was my day off...Really?...I will be there as soon as I can...goodbye." Phoebe snapped the phone shut and rolled her eyes.

"Well, I'd love to stay but duty calls."

"I thought it was your day off," Paige commented.

"So did I," She stood up. "Right, you three, keep me posted. Bye!" She left the attic, shutting the door behind her.

"And then there were three..." Paige muttered. "But, hey, we don't need Pheebs." But, once again, a phone rang. And Paige recognized the number.

"Guys, it's Richard. I have to go. I'm so sorry. Keep me updated." She answered the call. "Hey Richard...I know...I'm on my way..." She left the attic, once more shutting it behind her.

"And then there were 2," Piper muttered, echoing her sister's words. Chris was suddenly full of anger. How dare they? Leo, Phoebe, and Paige. Leave her with all this, it isn't like she has a child to raise and a club to run. This isn't fair.

"Why don't you go have a nap, Piper?" Chris said. Piper looked up away from the Book and up at Chris.

"What? Does it look like I need one?" She said sarcastically. He smiled.

"No, it looks like you have earned it. I'll look after Wyatt and look through the book. This is my burden to bear, not yours. Anyway, we can just wait for Phoebe and Paige. It isn't fair, you are doing this on your own." He said, truthfully. Piper smiled at Chris.

“You know, I might just take you up on that.” Piper smiled. “You sure?” Chris nodded. “Okay.” Piper approached the door, and quickly kissed her son on the head.

“Be good with Chris, okay baby?” Wyatt cooed. She smiled at her son. And then she too left the attic.

He walked over to the book, looking at the entry again. His hands delicately traced the outline of the image of the birthmark. He shut his eyes, as he began to recognize the familiar feeling of tears welling up inside him.

“I miss you…” He muttered to the pages. This is stupid, she can’t even hear me. He quickly blinked away his tears and began to think why the Phoenix Clan was after him. One thought popped into his head. No. It can’t be. He's 23 in the future. It can’t be him. It can’t be Wyatt...

Whispers Through Time: {~Revealing the Truth~}

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

Characters: Rhaenyra & Daemon

Pairing: Rhaenyra x Fem!Reader x Daemon

Word Count: 1106

Tag List: @snowtargaryen

Chapter 7 --- Chapter 8

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eternal Harmony: {~Melody of Souls~}

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: 624

Chapter 2 --- Chapter 3

The dense forest surrounding Forks seemed to come alive as Alice, Jasper, and Y/N ventured deeper into its depths. The towering trees, shrouded in mist, arched overhead, creating a natural cathedral that resonated with a profound sense of ancient wisdom. The forest floor, adorned with ferns and moss, cradled their steps in a carpet of nature's embrace.

Alice, her every movement a dance with the unseen, turned to Y/N. "Our family is not what it seems, and the secrets of our existence are written in the language of the forest."

Jasper, walking with a quiet confidence, added, "We've lived through centuries, seen civilizations rise and fall. The forest harbors the echoes of our immortal journey."

As they meandered through the verdant sanctuary, Alice occasionally paused to pick a wildflower or share a snippet of the future she glimpsed. The air was thick with the earthy scent of pine, and the distant murmur of a hidden stream added a melodic undertone to the symphony of nature that surrounded them.

Y/N, caught in the enchantment of their surroundings, couldn't help but feel a growing sense of curiosity. "What are you trying to show me?" they asked, their voice a mere whisper in the vastness of the ancient woods.

Alice turned to Y/N, her golden eyes reflecting the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves. "A place where we can truly be ourselves. A place away from prying eyes."

Soon, the trio reached a secluded meadow bathed in the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the trees. It was a place untouched by the passage of time, a sanctuary hidden from the curious gazes of the mortal world. As they settled into the natural tranquility, Edward and Bella emerged from the shadows, their presence adding another layer to the unfolding tale.

Edward, with his tousled bronze hair and a gaze that seemed to pierce through the veil of reality, greeted Y/N with a nod. "Welcome to our secret haven."

Bella, her warmth a contrast to Edward's intensity, added, "You're in for quite a journey, Y/N. The Cullen family has its fair share of surprises."

As they sat in the meadow, the Cullens began to share snippets of their immortal lives. Carlisle, with his sage-like wisdom, and Esme, the epitome of maternal grace, joined the group, each member contributing to the mosaic of stories that made up their shared history.

Emmett, with his infectious enthusiasm, regaled Y/N with tales of epic encounters with formidable foes. "You've got a front-row seat to the best supernatural show in town," he boomed, flashing a grin that could rival the sun.

Rosalie, elegant and enigmatic, offered Y/N a nod of acknowledgment. "You've entered a world of legends, dear. Choose your path wisely."

As the afternoon unfolded, Y/N found themselves immersed in the vibrant tapestry of the Cullen family. Laughter, shared memories, and the unspoken bonds of kinship filled the air. Amidst the tales of their supernatural existence, Y/N sensed a palpable harmony, a melody of souls that resonated within the heart of this extraordinary family.

Alice, ever attuned to the nuances of the future, turned to Y/N. "You're a part of this now, Y/N. Embrace the melody, for your presence has added a unique note to our eternal composition."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the meadow, the Cullen family stood together. In the quietude of the twilight, Y/N felt a sense of belonging that transcended the boundaries of mortality. Little did they know that the journey had only just begun, and the melody of their intertwined destinies would echo through the ages, creating a symphony of immortal love and timeless connections.

{~Narnia Masterlist~}

[One-Shots]

Edmund Pevensie:

-Between Shadows and Steel

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.

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.

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.

Ethereal Bonds: {~Unraveling the Mystery~}

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: 529

Masterlist

The Impala raced along the highway, the rhythmic thud of rain on the roof accompanying their contemplative silence. Inside the car, the glow of the dashboard lights illuminated the faces of Sam, Dean, and Y/N as they processed the information gathered at the occult bookstore.

"So, this Ethereal Key thing... it's not just about opening portals?" Y/N mused, breaking the quiet tension.

"No," Sam replied, his gaze focused on the road ahead. "According to the lore, it's a cosmic artifact, tied to the balance of realities. It shouldn't be tampered with lightly."

Dean leaned back, rubbing his temples. "Great. So not only are we dealing with interdimensional travel, but now there's a cosmic prophecy involved. Just what we needed."

Y/N, still clutching the amulet, couldn't help but feel the weight of responsibility. "So, what's the prophecy say? Anything that can help us understand our next move?"

Sam sighed, "The prophecy is vague. It speaks of a convergence, a merging of worlds, and an entity seeking to exploit the chaos. But there's no clear solution."

As they drove, the conversation shifted to the experiences of traversing different dimensions. Y/N shared tales from their world, making the Winchesters marvel at the complexities of the multiverse.

"We thought hunting was tough, but this... this is a whole new level of crazy," Dean remarked, shaking his head.

The Impala pulled into a small town, shrouded in an eerie mist. The trio navigated the dimly lit streets, following the amulet's guidance to a forgotten library rumored to house ancient texts.

Inside, dusty shelves lined with decaying books loomed over them. Y/N, Sam, and Dean scoured through yellowed pages, translating symbols and deciphering cryptic passages. The hours slipped away as they immersed themselves in the lore of cosmic anomalies.

As they stumbled upon a particularly relevant text, Dean's eyes widened. "This mentions a ritual, a way to stabilize the Ethereal Key and prevent the convergence."

Excitement mingled with caution as they pored over the details of the ritual. Y/N, now an integral part of the team, suggested variations based on their knowledge of the show.

The decision was made to perform the ritual in the very town they stood, using the unique energies of the place to enhance the amulet's power. The Winchesters gathered supplies while Y/N researched the final details of the spell.

In the dark of night, in a forgotten corner of the town, the trio began the intricate ritual. Symbols glowed with ethereal light, and an otherworldly energy filled the air. As they chanted, the amulet pulsed in response, resonating with the forces beyond.

Yet, as the ritual neared its climax, a sudden disturbance rattled the surroundings. Shadows stirred, and an ominous presence loomed. The convergence was underway, and the entity sought to thwart their efforts.

As the trio faced the impending threat, Y/N couldn't ignore the sense of trepidation. The lines between reality and fiction blurred further, and the fate of not just one, but multiple worlds hung in the balance.

Little did they know, this cosmic encounter would test the limits of their resolve and forge an unbreakable bond that transcended dimensions.