Charmed: Chris' Identity Is Discovered {~Chapter 5~}

Charmed: Chris' Identity is Discovered {~Chapter 3~}

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: 862

Masterlist

Chris was still wondering, who could be after him? Could it be Wyatt? Could Wyatt have sent an assassin after him. Well, he has done worse. Chris winced as he remembered the memories that have scarred him for life, literally.

“Hey Chris,” Piper Appeared by the playpen in the attic. Chris jumped slightly. Piper smiled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine. I was just a little distracted, I didn’t see you come up.” He admitted.

“Any progress?” She asked.

“Not really. I mean, I have made a few strong vanquishing potions, but what’s the point?”

“Chris, they are after you! Don’t say ‘what’s the point’!” She exclaimed, shocked at his words.

“I mean, even if we vanquish the Phoenix who is after me, they will just send more. We need to find out why they are after me. And it says in the book, someone hires them. Who? Who is after me? There is just a lot to figure out. And we don’t have a lot of time.”

“Wow, I guess I never thought of that.” Piper admits.

“Piper, I will just go to P3. I don’t want to endanger you or Wyatt.” 

“They aren’t here yet.” She reminded him.

“But they will be…” He added.

“Way to kill the mood.” She said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. He smiled at her. She sat on her grandmother’s couch once she was certain her son was okay.

“Did Leo orb down at all while I was having my nap?” She asked.

“No. Sorry Piper.” 

“It’s fine.” She smiled, but the smile didn’t quite meet her eyes.

“You know what. You shouldn’t have to suffer through this. It’s Leo’s loss. Not yours. You have your sisters at your side, your safe son, a bitchy white lighter to help babysit whenever your amazing and successful job. Plus, all the magical powers you could ever ask for. Please, Pipe, don’t let Leo put you down. You deserve better. I mean, right now, he is probably in a room full of Elders wearing robes acting all serious. And, you know what, they say they are good people. But you guys, here on Earth, are the ones who are fighting and putting yourself in danger for the greater good. What do they do? Come down and heal us every once in a while.

And they say, THEY do the most. They aren’t worth it Piper. Please, don’t feel like that.” She looked stunned.

“Wow. That’s one hell of a speech you got there. How long have you been practicing that one?” She asked. He smiled.

“Well, in case you haven’t figured out by now, Elders aren’t exactly my favorite people.”

“Lucky for you, I have been observant. I have noticed that. Why? I mean,  I have a ton of reasons, as you know. But, I am curious as to why you don’t like them.” 

“You want the list?” He asked. She nodded.

“If you want to tell me.”

“I do. Well, when I was a teenager, my mother. Um…my mother was hurt so I called an Elder or a whitelighter down. And well, they were too late. And she died. AndI asked why they didn’t come sooner. And they said they didn’t think it was important. They never care about anyone else apart from themselves. And when I became a whitelighter they think they can dictate who I have a relationship with. And what I do with my time. And that isn’t right. They have too much power. I mean sure, they are the ‘good’ guys. But, they take witches for granted. They take everyone for granted. And as long as they are happy and safe, nothing else matters.” He looked down, not wanting Piper to see him like this. He said too much.

“I am sorry you had to go though that. Were you there when your mother died?” She asked. He nodded. Not wanting to say anything.

“I’m sorry. Was your mother a witch then?” Again, he nodded.

“Okay Chris, I have to ask. You seem to know a lot about us. Phoebe, Paige, Wyatt, and me. How? I mean, the other day you struggled to open the drawer in the sunroom, and you tapped it in the exact right place for it to open well. No one knows stuff like that if you don’t know the people. Do we know you? Are we going to know you? Do we know your family?” He moved his gaze up to meet hers finally.

“Piper, I know you are sick of me saying this. But, I can’t really tell you anything about myself. Future consequences. But I promise, you will know everything there is to know about me. And soon.” 

“Okay. Thank you for telling me that about yourself.” She said,

“It’s okay. I am going to go into the Underworld, to see if anyone knows who has hired the Phoenix to come after me.”

“Okay. Phoebe messaged me. She will be home in a few minutes. Go on, be safe.”

“I will.” He smiled warmly at his mother and orbed away to the Underworld to see if he could get any answers.

Masterlist

Hiii Welcome to my blog! I will mostly write anything that you want, just please don't be weird with the requests. I don't have that many stories out yet but please send me your requests! Alsooo, if you guys want me to make a tag list, I can, just let me know!

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{~Charmed (1998)~}

{~House of the Dragon~}

{~Narnia~}

{~Supernatural~}

{~Twilight~}

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

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

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

Characters: Rhaenyra & Daemon

Pairing: Rhaenyra x Fem!Reader x Daemon

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1107

Chapter 2 --- Chapter 3

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

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

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

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

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

"A Friend."

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

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

That would be your opportunity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The note had hit its mark.

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

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

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

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

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.

Shadows and Starlight: {~Allies in War~}

Summary: Amid the chaos of war, a bitter rivalry between Edmund Pevensie and a formidable enemy leader begins to unravel into something deeper. As a fragile truce forms, both are torn between duty to their people and the undeniable connection growing between them. With political tensions rising, jealousies flaring, and the threat of battle looming, Edmund and the reader must navigate a delicate balance of loyalty, love, and sacrifice to secure peace—and each other

Characters: Edmund and Peter

Pairings: Edmund Pevensie x Gn!Reader

Warnings: Bit of angst

Word Count: 1529

Taglist: @snowtargaryen @hippiedippiekitty

Chapter 4 —

The sky was dark, the sun barely visible through the thick clouds that had gathered on the horizon. The tension had been building for days, both within the camps and between them. But no one had anticipated the attack. It came swiftly, without warning, a surprise assault from a third faction that neither Narnia nor your people had expected.

It started with the unmistakable sound of horns—shrill and urgent, cutting through the air like a blade. The camp erupted into chaos as soldiers scrambled to arm themselves, shouting orders and gathering into defensive formations. Edmund was among the first to draw his sword, his instincts kicking in as he barked commands to the Narnians.

You were already in the midst of the confusion, your own people mobilizing with the same urgency. It was as if the tenuous peace between your forces and Narnia had dissolved in an instant, replaced by the brutal reality of survival.

And then the enemy came.

They poured over the hills, armored and armed, a wave of dark figures that moved with ruthless precision. Arrows whistled through the air, striking down anyone too slow to react, and the sound of clashing steel filled the camp as the battle began.

You and Edmund found each other in the thick of it, your eyes meeting across the battlefield for a brief moment before the fighting consumed you both. There was no time for words, no time for hesitation. You moved as one, your swords cutting through the enemy with practiced ease, each of you watching the other’s back as you fought side by side.

Edmund’s focus had never been sharper, but as the battle raged on, he found his thoughts drifting back to you. Despite the chaos, despite the blood and violence that surrounded you, there was an undeniable connection—a trust that had grown between you over the course of these long, difficult weeks. Every movement you made was instinctive, as though you had fought together for years.

An enemy soldier lunged toward you, his spear aimed for your side, but Edmund was faster. He deflected the blow with a quick strike of his sword, knocking the soldier off balance and sending him crashing to the ground.

“Careful!” he shouted over the roar of the battle, his voice edged with concern.

You barely had time to nod your thanks before you were engaged with another opponent, your blade flashing in the dim light as you parried and struck with lethal precision. But even in the midst of the chaos, you couldn’t ignore the way your heart raced whenever Edmund was close—the way his presence seemed to anchor you in a way that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

The battle was fierce, with neither side willing to give an inch. But as the fighting dragged on, the enemy began to close in, their numbers overwhelming the defenders. You and Edmund were forced back toward the center of the camp, where the wounded were being tended to and the remaining soldiers regrouped.

At one point, you found yourself pressed up against a barricade, panting heavily as you tried to catch your breath. Edmund was beside you, his face smeared with dirt and blood, but his eyes were sharp and focused. He glanced at you, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you.

“We need to hold this line,” Edmund said, his voice rough but determined.

You nodded, gripping your sword tightly. “I’m with you.”

And then the fighting resumed.

Together, you and Edmund held the line, fending off wave after wave of attackers. There were moments when it seemed hopeless, when the sheer number of enemies threatened to overwhelm you. But each time, you found strength in the other, an unspoken understanding that neither of you would fall while the other still stood.

As the battle dragged on, something changed. The enemy’s attack began to falter, their forces scattering as the Narnians and your people fought back with renewed vigor. Soon, the attackers were in full retreat, disappearing over the hills as quickly as they had come.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of labored breathing and the distant cries of the wounded. The battle was over, but the cost had been high. Bodies littered the ground, and the air was thick with the smell of blood and smoke.

Edmund sheathed his sword, his chest heaving as he tried to steady himself. He glanced at you, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something raw and unspoken that made your heart clench.

“We did it,” you said, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Edmund nodded, but there was no relief in his gaze. “For now.”

Later, when the camp had begun to settle, Edmund found himself face-to-face with Peter. His older brother had been watching him closely throughout the battle, and now, with the fighting over, the questions could no longer be avoided.

“Edmund,” Peter’s voice was sharp as he approached, his blue eyes hard with suspicion. “We need to talk.”

Edmund tensed, knowing what was coming. He could see the concern in Peter’s eyes, the way his brother’s gaze flicked toward you, even as you stood on the other side of the camp, talking with your soldiers.

Peter’s words were low, but laced with accusation. “You’ve been reckless. Distracted.”

“I’ve been doing my job,” Edmund replied coolly, though his pulse quickened.

“Is that what this is?” Peter’s eyes narrowed. “Because it seems to me like your focus is elsewhere.”

Edmund clenched his jaw, refusing to meet Peter’s gaze. He had expected this confrontation for days now—had known it was inevitable. But that didn’t make it any easier.

“I’m focused on the battle. On Narnia,” Edmund said, but even he could hear the strain in his voice.

Peter didn’t let up. “Are you? Or are you too busy looking out for her?”

The accusation hit harder than Edmund had expected, and for a moment, he faltered. But then his anger flared, and he turned to face Peter fully, his expression hardening.

“She’s not our enemy,” Edmund said, his voice low but fierce. “Not anymore.”

Peter’s gaze sharpened. “And what happens when she turns on you? What happens when this fragile truce falls apart, and you’re too blinded by whatever this is to see it coming?”

Edmund’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “You don’t understand.”

“No,” Peter snapped, his voice rising. “I don’t. I don’t understand why you’re risking everything for someone who might betray us the moment it’s convenient.”

Edmund’s temper flared, and before he could stop himself, the words were out. “Because she’s different, Peter. She’s not like the others.”

Peter stared at him, his expression unreadable. “You’re letting your feelings cloud your judgment, Edmund. We can’t afford that right now.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the tension between them thick and heavy. Then, Peter’s voice softened, though the worry in his eyes remained.

“You’re my brother,” he said quietly. “I can’t lose you again.”

Edmund’s anger ebbed, replaced by a dull ache in his chest. He knew Peter was only trying to protect him, to keep him from making a mistake. But the problem was, it was already too late. He had let you in—had let his guard down—and now, there was no turning back.

The aftermath of the attack had left your people shaken. The sudden assault had forced your forces to fight alongside the Narnians, and while it had been a necessary alliance, it left many of your soldiers uneasy.

In the command tent, your most trusted advisors were gathered, their faces grim as they discussed the events of the day. The question on everyone’s mind was the same: Could they trust Narnia after what had happened?

“We were caught off guard,” one of your commanders said, his voice heavy with frustration. “We can’t afford to let that happen again.”

You nodded, but your thoughts were elsewhere. You couldn’t stop thinking about Edmund—about the way he had fought beside you, the way he had protected you without hesitation. There was a bond between you now, something deeper than just a shared battle. But how could you reconcile that with the distrust your people felt toward Narnia?

“We need to be careful,” another advisor said. “The Narnians may have helped us today, but that doesn’t mean they won’t turn on us tomorrow.”

A heavy silence settled over the room, and you felt the weight of your position more acutely than ever. You were their leader, the one they looked to for guidance. But how could you lead them when you weren’t even sure where your own loyalties lay?

“I trust Edmund,” you said finally, the words escaping before you could fully think them through.

Your advisors exchanged uneasy glances, but no one spoke. The truth was, they had seen the way Edmund had fought for you today. They had seen the way the two of you worked together, how you moved in sync, almost as if you had been allies from the start. But trust was fragile, and with war looming on the horizon, any misstep could be disastrous.

Charmed: Chris' Identity is Discovered {~Chapter 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.”

Eternal Harmony: {~Trials and Tribulations~}

Summary: Y/N's ordinary life takes a supernatural twist when they encounter the mysterious Cullen family in Forks. Immersed in a world of eternal love and trials, Y/N becomes a vital part of the Cullens' immortal story. Guided by Alice's visions and Jasper's wisdom, they face cosmic threats and navigate the complexities of supernatural existence. The story unfolds through eclipses of emotions and trials, culminating in a dawn where enduring bonds and love echo through the ages—a forever-bound journey in the supernatural realm.

Characters: The Cullen family

Pairing: Jasper x Reader x Alice

Warnings: No Warnings

Word Count: 518

Chapter 5 --- Epilogue

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ethereal Bonds: {~A Rift in Reality~}

Summary: Y/N is transported into the show's world, joining forces with the Winchesters to face a cosmic threat. Together, they navigate interdimensional challenges, decipher prophecies, and confront an entity aiming to merge realities. The fanfic explores the blurring of fiction and reality, emphasizing the enduring bonds formed amidst the supernatural chaos.

Characters: Sam & Dean

Pairing: No Pairing

Warnings: No Warnings

Word Count: 426

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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: 568

Masterlist

“Come on Piper. We should go.”  Paige called her sister.

“Coming!” Piper called back. Phoebe, Paige and Piper were getting ready to leave to go to the Elders, and to summon Chris. Piper entered the room, and Paige orbed her and her sisters to the heavens.

They appeared in the same room, with the same amount of Elders, if not the exact same ones.

“No sighting of Chris?” Leo asked, as soon as the sisters appeared.

“No. Nothing.” Paige answered.

“Shall we do this? I am eager to get answers.” Piper said, wanting to get started.

“Sure,” Leo said. “Do you have the spell?”

“Yes.”

“We are ready when you are.” Leo responded. The sisters held each other’s hands and began chanting the summoning spell. Not soon after Chris appeared in bright white lights. He was grinning. Why was he smiling?

“Christopher Perry.” An Elder chanted.

“Hmm…is anyone else getting déjá vu?” Chris muttered, sarcasm filling his voice.

“Chris, for the second time, please take this seriously.” Leo said. They may have had their differences in the past, but if Chris struggles, this will be painful, and he doesn’t want to see Chris in pain. Chris rolled his eyes at Leo.

“Let’s just do this. Do you want me to stand over there again?”

“Yes.”

“By the way, you could have warned me about the whole becoming unconscious thing.” He says, while walking to where he stood yesterday. No one responded to his comment.

“Will I be able to see what you see? In my mind, I mean.”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Go for it.” The Elders bowed their heads, Chris fell to the ground. The hologram-like screen appeared once more. The Elders raised their heads to watch the screen, as did the sisters.

A young boy appeared on the screen. He looks around 11 or 12, with brown rugged hair. Presumably Chris’ younger self. His surroundings were the sun room in the manor. He was smiling, except his hands were covering his eyes. He was counting.

“17…18…19…20!” Ready or not, here I come!” Chris yelled.

Leo and the sisters were smiling. Enjoying seeing younger Chris. But then, Chris said a name. Just one name that changed everyone’s smiles.

“Wyatt! Wyatt, where are you!” He called. He was looking around the manor, and as he entered the kitchen, a young boy came into view. He could only be a year older than Chris, 2 years at most. Wyatt.

“Sorry Chris! But to be fair, you didn’t say I couldn’t use magic until I had hidden!” He said, defending himself.

“Yeah, yeah. You say that every time!” He muttered.

“No I don’t. I think you just don’t like losing, because you know I am better at hiding than you.” Wyatt sneered.

“Are not!” Chris replied.

“Prove it.” Wyatt said. Just before Chris was about to disappear, Piper walked in.

“Woah boys, what are you two up to?”

“Playing hide and seek.” Replied Wyatt.

“He was using magic!” Cried Chrs, to Piper. Piper turned towards Wyatt.

“Wyatt, what have I told you about using magic when unnecessary?”

“Not to do it.”

“And yet you have.” Piper retorted.

“Sorry, mom.”

“Thank you for apologizing.” She leaned forward and kissed Wyatt on his head. “Go play.” She said, Wyatt smiled and left the kitchen.

“So Chris, wanna help me bake?”

“Your cookies?” Chris asked, his voice full of hope. Piper grinned.

“Yes.”

“Yes! Thanks, Mom.” 

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.