When's The Edmund One Coming? :D

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.

Whispers Through Time: {~Unveiling Fate~}

A/N: Hey guysss! I just want to apologize for literally not updating this story for WEEKSSS! I had been really busy with school and then I had gotten sick and had chest problems. I really hope you guys enjoy these last 2 chapters of "Whispers Through Time"

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: 1254

Tag List: @snowtargaryen, @hippiedippiekitty

Chapter 9 --- Chapter 10

The reader stood in the dimly lit chambers, her mind racing from the events of the last few hours. Rhaenyra’s accusations still rang in her ears, and Daemon’s intense gaze seemed to burn into her soul even now. They had almost discovered her secret, the notes she had been leaving, warning them about potential threats and dangerous outcomes. She had narrowly avoided the truth being exposed, but the lingering sense of tension was palpable.

She paced the room, feeling the weight of the looming decision ahead. She didn’t know how long she could keep hiding her identity—or the fact that she was behind the warnings. A part of her wanted to reveal everything, but the risk of altering the course of history still loomed large. She couldn’t be sure what telling them would do.

The door creaked open, and the reader’s heart jumped into her throat. She turned, her pulse quickening, to see Rhaenyra stepping into the room, her violet eyes filled with curiosity—and something deeper.

“I’ve had enough of these games,” Rhaenyra said softly, stepping toward the reader with quiet grace. “You’re hiding something. And you’re going to tell me what it is.”

The reader took a shaky breath, trying to compose herself. She couldn’t let this be the moment they discovered her truth. Not yet.

“I’ve told you, Rhaenyra, I’m not hiding anything,” the reader said, though even she could hear the tremor in her voice. She hoped the room's shadows concealed it from Rhaenyra’s sharp perception.

Rhaenyra’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You’re lying,” she said, her tone calm but unwavering. “Daemon and I can feel it. You’ve been distant, withholding from us—especially after you stopped those letters from arriving.”

The reader swallowed hard, trying to steady her breathing. She had intercepted a critical letter meant for Rhaenyra only hours before—one that could have revealed too much about the future and her warnings. If they had seen it, her entire ruse would have unraveled.

“I... I was trying to protect you,” the reader admitted quietly, stepping closer to the edge of the truth without crossing the line. “There are things I know—things that could put your lives in danger. I’ve been trying to prevent that.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes softened slightly, but her expression remained guarded. “What things?” she asked quietly.

The reader hesitated, her heart thudding in her chest. She couldn’t lie outright, but she also couldn’t reveal the full truth. “I’ve seen things,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Visions, maybe. I don’t know how, but... I’ve been trying to keep the future from falling apart.”

The admission felt heavy on her tongue, and she watched Rhaenyra’s face carefully, waiting for her reaction. The princess studied her for a long moment, and the silence between them stretched until it was almost unbearable.

Finally, Rhaenyra sighed softly. “You’ve been playing with fate,” she murmured. “And you didn’t trust us to know?”

“It wasn’t about trust,” the reader replied, her voice filled with quiet desperation. “It was about protecting you. I don’t know what changing things will do.”

Rhaenyra stepped even closer, her presence overwhelming. “You can’t protect us from everything,” she said softly. “You’ve already put yourself at risk. Daemon and I—”

“Daemon and you?” the reader interrupted before she could stop herself, her own turmoil spilling out. “This is exactly why I pulled away. I can’t—”

She stopped herself, biting her lip as she turned away, but Rhaenyra’s hand caught her arm, stopping her retreat. “You can’t what?”

The room felt too small. The truth that had been clawing at the reader’s mind for days was on the verge of breaking free, and she didn’t know how to stop it. “I can’t do this,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I can’t let myself... care too much. If I do, I could change everything. Your future, your children—everything I know about this world.”

Rhaenyra’s grip on her arm tightened. “You’re afraid of loving us,” she said softly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

The reader turned back to her, her heart pounding in her chest. “Yes,” she admitted. “I’m afraid of what loving you—and Daemon—would do. I’ve already changed so much just by being here. If I let myself give in... what happens then?”

Rhaenyra was silent for a moment, her eyes searching the reader’s face. Then, slowly, she let go of the reader’s arm and stepped back. “You’re right,” she said quietly. “You’ve already changed things. But you’re wrong about one thing.”

The reader frowned. “What?”

“You don’t get to decide what our future looks like,” Rhaenyra said, her voice firm. “That’s for us to determine. Not you.”

Before the reader could respond, the door creaked open again. Daemon stepped inside, his face shadowed with concern. He glanced between the two women, sensing the tension in the room. “What’s going on?”

Rhaenyra’s eyes flicked to Daemon, then back to the reader. “It’s time we stop hiding from each other,” she said, her voice low but commanding. “All of us.”

Daemon’s gaze shifted to the reader, his expression unreadable. “She’s right,” he said after a long pause. “We can’t keep playing this game. If we’re to trust you, we need the full truth.”

The reader’s heart sank. This was it—the moment she had feared for so long. She looked between Rhaenyra and Daemon, her mind racing as she tried to find a way out, a way to keep her secret without losing their trust entirely.

“I’m not from here,” she said finally, the words spilling out before she could stop them.

Rhaenyra and Daemon both stared at her, their expressions frozen in shock.

“I’m not... from this world,” the reader continued, her voice trembling. “I don’t know how I got here, but... I know things. Things about your future, about what’s coming. And I’ve been trying to stop it from happening.”

Daemon stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. “You’ve known about the future this entire time?”

The reader nodded, her breath hitching. “Yes. I’ve known. And I’ve been trying to help without... without changing too much. But it’s getting harder.”

Rhaenyra’s face softened, but there was still an edge of caution in her voice. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I was afraid,” the reader admitted. “Afraid of what would happen if I changed too much. Afraid of... of getting too close to you.”

Daemon’s gaze was piercing, but there was no anger in his eyes. “And now?”

The reader swallowed hard, meeting his gaze. “Now, I’m afraid I already have.”

For a long moment, no one spoke. The silence was thick, charged with the weight of everything left unsaid.

Finally, Rhaenyra stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. “You’re not alone in this. We’ll face whatever comes—together.”

The reader’s heart ached with the warmth of Rhaenyra’s words, but deep down, the fear remained. The future was unraveling before her eyes, and she didn’t know how much longer she could keep it from falling apart.

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😭

Hiii, may I be added to ur tag list for secrets whispered through time? 💘

Yess, of course. Sorry for the late reply! :( I have been really busy.

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

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

{~Shadows of Harrenhal~}

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

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

Characters: Daemon & Alys

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Some Angst

Word Count: 1983

Tag List: @snowtargaryen @hippiedippiekitty

Part 1 ---

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

And now, they say, she wanders Harrenhal.

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

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

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

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

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

Then he saw her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Charmed: Chris' Identity is Discovered {~Chapter 7~}

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: 648

Masterlist

Everyone starts coughing, the smoke filling eveybodyś lungs. No one can see anyone else.

“Paige?! Phoebe?!” Piper shouts. “Are you okay?!”

“Yeah!” Phoebe replies.

“Yep! We’re good!” Paige adds. Eventually the smoke clears, and the Elders are still in a circle, Leo still included. Almost as a group, they turn to see where Chris should be. Chris is nowhere to be seen.

“Where the hell is Chris?!” Piper says.

“I don’t know.” Paige replied.

“Magic has been used. I can feel it.” Says Odin, an Elder to the left of Leo.

“What kind of magic?”  

“Something we haven’t seen before.” He replies.

“Shall we summon him?” Phoebe asks her sister.

“No.” Piper says, sharply. “Give him 24 hours, then we summon him. Just this once, I am giving him a chance.”

{~At P3~} 

“Chris.” He could hear a woman’s voice calling his name. It was so familiar, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Chris. Chris wake up.” The woman spoke louder, and started to shake his shoulders. Urging him to wake up. Slowly, his eyelids began to flutter open. And his eyesight began to focus on the person in front of him. He immediately took in his surroundings, he was in the back room in P3. He was used to this room, having ‘lived’ there for nearly 7 months. He was lying on the sofa. But then, he saw her. Really saw Bianca. He sat up immediately.

“Bianca.” He muttered.

“Hi.” She replied. She smiled at him. “I thought you needed a hand.” He smiled back at her.

“Yeah. I kinda did. Thank you.” He replied. He stood up so he was standing in front of her.

“You're welcome. Besides, there is something I need to do.”

“What?” He asked, perplexed. She smiled, and pulled him towards her. They were kissing like their lives depended on it. And before he knew it, they were lost to each other.

{~At the Manor~} 

“What if it was a Phoenix that took Chris, I mean.” Paige said.

“How though?” Phoebe questioned.

“I dunno, a tracking spell maybe? Phoebe, I am worried he is hurt. I mean, I understand that he lied to us, but that doesn’t mean I have stopped caring. Pheebs, what if he is dead?”

“Don’t think like that.” 

“I am just saying what everyone else is thinking.” Paige says in defense.

“So, what do you want to do?” 

“Summon him?” Paige suggests.

“There is no point though. We are summoning him later tonight with the Eldes.” Phoebe replies.

“I guess.” Suddenly orbs appear in the room, and Piper emerges.

“Since when can you orb? I thought that was my thing.” Paige says sarcastically.

“Very funny. Leo orbed me down, I just went to see Wyatt.”

“How is my little man?” Phoebe asks.

“He’s okay. Any signs of Chris?”

“Nope.”

“I expected that. Anyway, we are summoning him later today. So hopefully we can get some answers.” Piper says, voicing everyone’s thoughts.

“I just can’t help wondering where he is, and if he is hurt.” Paige admits.

“You're not the only one who is worried. I keep thinking it’s the Phoenix. But we will find out in a couple of hours.” Piper says, shocked at her own words.

“Okay, I have to ask. What questions are you gonna ask him? I mean, like, who do you think he is?” Paige asked, both of her sisters.

“I dunno really. I guess, I don’t really care, as long as we get the truth.” Phoebe says.

“I think we know him. Or at least his family.” Piper admits.

“What makes you say that?” 

“There are just too many things that don’t add up. He knows us so well and has so little time. He knows our little quirks, he knows things about the house that not even Leo knew. I am very interested to see if I am right.”

Ethereal Bonds: {~A Hunt for Answers~}

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: 466

Masterlist

The Impala's tires hummed on the wet asphalt as they left the small town behind, the neon glow of a motel sign flickering in the rearview mirror. Y/N still couldn't believe they were sitting in the iconic car alongside the Winchester brothers, actively participating in the supernatural adventures they had previously only witnessed on a screen.

"So, what's the plan now?" Y/N asked, breaking the thoughtful silence that had settled in the car.

Dean glanced at Sam, exchanging a silent communication before turning his attention to Y/N. "We follow the breadcrumbs. See where this mysterious portal of yours leads us."

The conversation shifted to the enigmatic amulet they had found in the abandoned mansion during their last hunt. Y/N took it out, examining the intricate symbols carved into its surface. "This thing seems ancient, like it's been around for centuries."

Sam nodded, "It's definitely connected to the portal. We need to decipher these symbols to figure out how to get you back home."

As they brainstormed, Y/N's mind raced. "What if this isn't just a one-way ticket? What if there's a way for you guys to visit my world, too?"

Dean chuckled, "You think we'd fit in with your 'normal' life? No monsters, no demons, just the daily grind?"

Y/N laughed, realizing the absurdity of the idea. "Fair point. But seriously, there's got to be more to this amulet than just a ticket home."

The trio decided to visit a local occult bookstore, hoping to find information on ancient artifacts. Inside, surrounded by dusty tomes and flickering candles, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of awe.

"Excuse me," Sam addressed the elderly shopkeeper. "We're looking for information on this amulet."

The shopkeeper, her eyes wise and weathered, studied the amulet and nodded knowingly. "Ah, the Ethereal Key. A bridge between worlds, but not without consequences."

Conversations delved into the lore of the Ethereal Key, its ties to ancient prophecies, and the risks involved in traversing between dimensions. Y/N, Sam, and Dean absorbed every piece of information, realizing the gravity of their situation.

Back in the Impala, driving through the night, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that they were unraveling a story much larger than themselves. "We're not just dealing with a random portal. This amulet is part of something bigger, something cosmic."

Dean glanced at Y/N, his expression serious. "Well, then let's gear up. We're diving headfirst into cosmic mysteries and hoping we come out in one piece."

As they ventured further into the supernatural unknown, Y/N couldn't ignore the thrill of being a part of something extraordinary. Little did they know, the answers they sought would lead them to revelations that would reshape their understanding of reality and the thin lines between dimensions.

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

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

Characters: Charmed Ones, Bianca, Chris, Leo

Pairing: No Pairing

Warnings: Angst, Heartbreak

Word Count: 757

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He frowned and moved towards the Book of Shadows.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shadows and Starlight: {~ The Fragile Truce Word ~}

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: Slight fluff

Word Count: 1697

Taglist: @snowtargaryen @hippiedippiekitty

Chapter 2 —

The camp was quiet, save for the low murmur of soldiers gathered around fires, their faces lit by the flickering glow. The war had taken its toll on everyone—physically and mentally—and tonight, even the most hardened fighters seemed subdued. The ceasefire had been called, but there was a tension in the air that was impossible to ignore. Everyone knew this truce was temporary. Fragile. And yet, as you stood at the edge of your camp, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something far more dangerous than battle lay ahead.

The source of your unease stood just beyond the perimeter, his presence unmistakable. Edmund Pevensie had come to your camp under the pretense of negotiations—discussing terms, strategies, anything to maintain the fragile peace that had been brokered after your last encounter. But you knew better. Edmund wasn’t here for political reasons. He was here because, like you, he couldn’t let go of whatever was growing between you, no matter how much he tried to deny it.

You watched as he dismounted from his horse, his movements fluid and purposeful, his face unreadable. The tension between you had shifted since that fateful day on the battlefield, when he had offered you his hand instead of striking you down. It was as if the very nature of your rivalry had changed, morphing into something neither of you could fully understand or control.

“Edmund,” you greeted him, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in your chest. You tried to keep your tone neutral, but there was no denying the undercurrent of something deeper.

He inclined his head slightly, acknowledging your greeting as his eyes met yours. For a brief moment, it was just the two of you, standing on opposite sides of a fragile line that neither dared to cross, yet both seemed drawn toward. But then, the moment passed, and Edmund’s expression hardened.

“I’m here to discuss the terms of the truce,” he said, his voice formal, though you could hear the strain beneath it. “We need to ensure this ceasefire holds.”

You nodded, gesturing for him to follow you toward the central tent where the negotiations would take place. The camp buzzed with quiet energy as you led him through the rows of soldiers and tents, but no one dared approach. Your people regarded Edmund with wary eyes, their distrust of the Narnians evident in the way they tensed at his presence.

Once inside the tent, the two of you stood opposite each other, the low light casting long shadows on the canvas walls. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence thick with unspoken words.

“So,” Edmund began, his tone clipped as he tried to steer the conversation back to politics, “your side has been pushing for control of the northern borders. We can’t allow that to happen.”

You folded your arms across your chest, feigning indifference even as your heart pounded in your ears. “And what would you suggest, Pevensie? We give up territory in exchange for your goodwill?”

His jaw clenched, his irritation evident, though he was doing his best to keep his emotions in check. “You know as well as I do that this isn’t about goodwill. It’s about survival.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. This was supposed to be a negotiation—a purely diplomatic meeting to maintain peace—but it felt like something far more personal. Every word exchanged was a battle in its own right, each of you testing the other’s resolve.

Before you could respond, the tent flap opened, and a tall figure entered—one of your most trusted advisors, a man who had been at your side since the beginning of the war. He was charming, sharp-witted, and far too friendly for Edmund’s liking. You could see the change in Edmund’s posture immediately, the way his shoulders stiffened as your advisor greeted you with a warm smile.

“My apologies for the interruption,” your advisor said smoothly, his eyes flicking to Edmund with only the briefest hint of disdain before returning to you. “I wanted to ensure everything was in order for the negotiations.”

You offered him a polite smile, nodding in acknowledgment. “Of course. We were just discussing the terms of the truce.”

As you spoke, your advisor stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder in what might have been a gesture of support—but to Edmund, it was something far more irritating. His eyes darkened as he watched the interaction, his jaw clenching so hard you thought you heard his teeth grind.

Edmund’s voice was cold when he finally spoke. “I assume you’ve been kept informed of the negotiations thus far,” he said, addressing your advisor with a pointed glare. “It would be a shame for any misunderstandings to arise at this stage.”

The tension in the tent thickened as the two men locked eyes, neither willing to back down. You could feel the heat of Edmund’s jealousy simmering just beneath the surface, though he did his best to mask it behind a veneer of professionalism. Still, you knew him well enough to recognize the signs—the slight tightening of his grip on his sword hilt, the way his gaze never quite left your advisor.

Before things could escalate, you cleared your throat, stepping between them to defuse the situation. “Perhaps we should focus on the matter at hand,” you suggested, your voice firm but calm. “We’re here to discuss peace, after all.”

Your advisor nodded, though you could sense the underlying tension in his posture. “Of course,” he agreed, his tone smooth. “We all want what’s best for our people.”

Edmund didn’t respond, but you could feel his eyes on you as you resumed the discussion, the charged silence between you more telling than any words he could have said. As the negotiations continued, you couldn’t help but notice the way Edmund’s mood darkened whenever your advisor spoke, his irritation growing with each passing moment. It was as if the very idea of someone else standing at your side, advising you, grated on him in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

By the time the meeting was over, the atmosphere in the tent had grown stifling. Your advisor left with a respectful nod, but the moment he was gone, you turned to face Edmund, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, your voice quieter now that you were alone with him.

Edmund’s eyes flickered, and for a moment, you thought he might deflect your question. But then, with a frustrated sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, his expression softening just a fraction. “I don’t trust him,” he admitted, his voice low. “He’s too... familiar with you.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his bluntness. “And why does that bother you?”

For a moment, Edmund seemed at a loss for words. His gaze met yours, and you saw the conflict there—the battle between his duty as a leader and the emotions he was struggling to keep in check. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, more vulnerable than you had ever heard it.

“Because I don’t want to see you get hurt,” he confessed, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “And I don’t trust that he has your best interests at heart.”

Your breath caught in your throat at the raw honesty in his voice. This was not the Edmund you had fought against for so long—the hardened, calculating king who never let his guard down. This was something else, something far more dangerous. Because it wasn’t just concern in his eyes—it was something deeper, something that neither of you had acknowledged but both of you felt.

For a long moment, the two of you stood there in the dimly lit tent, the weight of his confession hanging heavily between you. It would have been so easy to push him away, to retreat behind the walls you had built around yourself. But something in the way he looked at you—like you were the only person in the world that mattered—made it impossible.

“I can take care of myself,” you said softly, your voice barely more than a whisper. “But thank you... for worrying.”

Edmund’s gaze lingered on you, his eyes searching yours as if he was looking for something he couldn’t quite name. The tension between you was almost unbearable now, the air thick with the unspoken connection that neither of you dared to acknowledge.

Finally, with a resigned sigh, Edmund stepped back, his expression once again guarded. “We should continue this discussion later,” he said, his voice a little too formal, as if he was trying to regain control of himself.

You nodded, though you couldn’t help but feel the loss of the moment that had just slipped away. “Later,” you agreed, your heart still racing as you watched him leave the tent, disappearing into the night.

The campfire crackled softly as you sat with your soldiers later that evening, the warmth from the flames doing little to chase away the cold that had settled in your chest. You couldn’t stop thinking about Edmund—about the way he had looked at you, the way his words had lingered in the air between you like a question neither of you were ready to answer.

Your people, however, were less conflicted. They had seen Edmund in your camp, had watched the way the two of you interacted, and now, whispers of doubt and suspicion were beginning to spread.

“You’ve changed since the truce began,” one of your most trusted soldiers said quietly, his voice carrying a hint of accusation. “People are starting to wonder if your loyalties are still with us.”

You stiffened, caught off guard by the bluntness of his words. “My loyalties have never wavered,” you replied firmly,

though even you could hear the hesitation in your voice. “I’m doing what I must for our people.”

The soldier’s eyes narrowed slightly, his expression skeptical. “Just be careful. The Pevensies are not to be trusted. They have a way of getting inside your head... making you question things.”

You didn’t respond, but his words hit closer to the truth than you were willing to admit.

Whispers Through Time: {~Shadows of Suspicion~}

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: 1383

Tag List: @snowtargaryen

Chapter 6 --- Chapter 7

The tension in King’s Landing was mounting.

You could feel the shift in the air every time you walked through the castle’s halls. Eyes lingered on you for just a moment too long, hushed whispers followed your movements, and the weight of suspicion grew heavier with each passing day. The silent game of intrigue you had started was becoming more dangerous than you ever anticipated.

Daemon’s words haunted you. Secrets don’t stay hidden forever, Y/N.

He had known. Or at least, suspected. And Rhaenyra—there was no doubt in your mind that she had already started connecting the dots. The princess had become colder in your presence, her once friendly demeanor replaced by something much more calculating.

You had managed to keep your secrets for this long, but how much longer could you maintain the facade?

You sat in the dim light of your chambers, a piece of parchment laid before you. The next warning was written carefully, the ink still drying as you watched the words you had

crafted to change the course of history. Each note you left was like a ripple in the timeline, spreading outward and impacting events in ways you could never fully control.

The next message was vital—one that would steer Rhaenyra’s decisions in a crucial way, altering the fragile balance of power.

But this time, you hesitated.

The previous close encounters with both Rhaenyra and Daemon had shaken you more than you cared to admit. Your heart still pounded at the memory of Daemon’s smirk, his quiet threat, and Rhaenyra’s piercing gaze as she subtly questioned your every move. One wrong step, and it could all come crashing down.

Yet you couldn’t stop. Too much was at stake now. You had already planted the seeds, and now they had to be watered. Carefully, delicately, you folded the note, preparing to deliver it when the time was right.

You hadn’t seen Daemon in the last few days, and part of you had hoped that perhaps his interest had waned. But when you least expected it, he made his presence known.

It was late in the evening when you found yourself outside in the garden courtyard, seeking solace in the cool night air. The stars above twinkled faintly, and the quiet hum of the distant city offered a rare sense of peace.

“Out enjoying the evening, are we?” a familiar voice drawled from behind you.

Your pulse quickened, but you forced yourself to remain calm as you turned to see Daemon standing just a few paces away, his usual smirk plastered across his face.

“I needed some air,” you replied evenly, your heart racing despite your calm tone.

Daemon stepped closer, his hands casually resting at his sides, though you could feel the tension radiating from him. He studied you for a long moment, his gaze sharp and probing.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, his voice low and dangerously smooth, “about you.”

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. “About me, my lord?”

Daemon took another step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “You’re quite the enigma, aren’t you? Appearing out of nowhere, earning the favor of the princess, slipping through the cracks like a shadow.”

Your mind raced, searching for a response that would divert his attention without raising further suspicion. “I serve the realm, as any loyal subject should,” you said carefully, avoiding his direct challenge.

His smirk deepened. “Do you, though?”

Before you could reply, Daemon leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Everyone here has a role to play. I wonder—what’s yours?”

You forced yourself to hold his gaze, even though every instinct screamed at you to run. Daemon was no fool. He was testing you, pushing your limits to see how far he could go before you broke.

But you couldn’t break. Not now.

“I am but a healer, my lord,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart. “Nothing more.”

Daemon’s eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, you thought he might press further. But then, just as quickly as the tension had risen, it dissipated. He straightened, his smirk returning to its usual playful expression.

“We’ll see,” he said cryptically before turning and walking away, leaving you standing there in the dark garden, your heart still racing from the encounter.

You had passed his test this time, but how much longer could you keep this up?

The following morning, the air in the castle was buzzing with anticipation. A high-ranking visitor had arrived at court, though the details were being kept under wraps. You could hear the servants whispering about it in the corridors, speculating on who it could be and what their business might entail.

You knew better than to ask questions openly, but your curiosity burned all the same. The arrival of someone important always shifted the balance of power in subtle ways, and you couldn’t afford to be caught off guard.

As the day wore on, you noticed the increased activity within the Red Keep. Servants rushed about, preparing for what you assumed would be a private meeting between the royal family and their guest. It was clear that whatever business was being conducted, it was meant to stay behind closed doors.

But then, by sheer chance, you overheard a conversation between two courtiers that set your mind spinning.

“It is him, isn’t it?” one of the courtiers whispered, glancing around nervously.

The other nodded, lowering their voice. “Yes. The Prince of Dorne.”

Your heart skipped a beat. The Prince of Dorne? Here?

You couldn’t help but feel a spark of intrigue. The presence of Dorne in King’s Landing meant there were discussions of alliances—or, worse yet, potential conflict. This was information that could change everything if used wisely.

And it was information that Rhaenyra needed to know. But how?

The weight of the folded parchment felt heavier in your hands than ever before as you made your way through the shadowy corridors of the Red Keep. You had to be even more careful now, knowing that Daemon’s eyes were on you and Rhaenyra’s suspicions had grown.

The Prince of Dorne’s arrival was significant. You couldn’t ignore it. But you also couldn’t deliver the note in the usual place—not after your recent encounters. You needed to be smarter, more careful.

You made your way to the hidden alcove in a part of the Keep that was seldom used. The old stone walls loomed around you, the only sound the soft echo of your footsteps. You checked your surroundings carefully, ensuring that no one had followed you.

After what felt like an eternity of waiting in the silence, you slipped the folded note into the small crevice in the stone. It was a new hiding spot—one you had discovered by chance—but it was discreet enough that only someone who knew where to look would ever find it.

You took a deep breath, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease slightly. The warning was delivered. Now, all you could do was wait and hope that it reached the right hands.

But as you turned to leave, a flicker of movement in the shadows caught your eye.

You froze, your heart leaping into your throat.

Someone had been watching you.

You could feel the blood drain from your face as you stood there, paralyzed with fear. For a moment, the world seemed to stand still as you tried to process what had just happened. Someone had been following you. But who?

Had Daemon sent someone to spy on you? Had Rhaenyra finally figured out that you were the one leaving the notes?

Your mind raced, but there was no time to think. You had to move—now.

Without looking back, you quickly made your way down the corridor, your footsteps soft but swift. You couldn’t let them catch you. You couldn’t let them know that you had seen them. Whoever it was, they had been careful, staying in the shadows, watching from a distance. But their presence had been undeniable.

You didn’t stop until you reached the safety of your chambers, your heart still pounding in your chest. Whoever was following you knew something—and that knowledge could be your undoing.

You were running out of time. The game of shadows and secrets had just become much more dangerous.