#what do i call this? my dearest diary?

[taraneeno]

It's the start of the second semester. Day 3. Wednesday. The situation has escalated beyond what I previously thought was possible. The nurse in charge of our ward saw us (a pack of tiny, tired, clueless, confused 3rd years, lost, searching for our tutor) and thought we were INTERNS, and asked us to put up an IV line because the patient had pulled theirs out (obviously we declined, even though technically we know how to do that. Supposedly). I'm already behind on 7,8 lectures. I've been staring at the same picture of tertiary syphilis for an hour, trying to figure out how this spirochete, spirally, spaghetti type bacteria can drill holes in your skull. I'm never kissing another person again. My tea is cold. I am willingly carrying around a 1175 page textbook and I still know nothing. Peeled an orange today (for myself).

[gguk-n]

Daddy Dearest (Oscar Piastri Dad fic)

Summary- Oscar is a girl dad.

There weren't many people who had Oscar wrapped around their little finger, except Amelia Piastri. Almost 2 years old and she could make Oscar dance like a chicken on the drop of a hat.

Oscar had met Amelia's mother and the love of his life, Y/N when they were in high-school. They started dating soon after. The year Oscar was a reserve driver for Alpine; he might not have been busy racing but he was busy with his girlfriend. The whole Alpine-Mclaren fiasco brought us baby Mia. It was a usual Thursday, Y/N had been stressing out about missing her period for the second time this month when she had regular periods since she could remember. A thought passed through her; it had been floating around in her head since last month. What if she was pregnant? Oscar and her had always been safe; but not a single contraceptive was a hundred percent perfect. So, without informing Oscar, she went to the store and bought a few tests. When the first one said positive, she did another and then another. By now Oscar had become aware of his missing girlfriend who was coup-ed up in their bathroom for the past half hour. He was knocking on the door; "babe, is everything okay? You've been in there since you returned" But when no reply came; the knocking became more rapid and worried. "Y/N, are you ok? Please answer. You're stressing me out" he begged. Then the door opened slightly. A tear stained Y/N was peaking her head out. Oscar pushed the door open and hugged her. He was scanning the room as his girlfriend's body shook slightly; that's when he saw it; pregnancy tests. He pulled away to look at her; "Have you been busy taking those pregnancy test?" he asked. "How do you know what they are?" she hiccuped. "I've watched TV growing up" he smiled. She nodded and handed the 3 tests to him. They all read pregnant in bold letters. Oscar was over joyed; "Are we gonna be parents?" he shouted. "You're not angry?" she asked. "Why would I be? I get to have kids with the love of my life. Best thing that could ever happen to me" he stated. For the first time since she got the tests, she smiled. "Aren't we too young though?" she asked. "Yes, but I could take on the world with you by my side" he said kissing her. "You'll be the best dad ever" she told him. "You'll be the best mum ever" he said. The pair stayed in each other's embrace for a long time. Oscar will never admit it but he cried and then went on reddit to research what to do as a first time dad.

Amelia was born the next year when Oscar was busy racing. He wasn't able to be there for the birth of his daughter; he might have called his mother and cried about being a shitty dad from the get-go. But his father later consoled him and told him it would be fine. Oscar flew out the first chance he got to be with his girlfriend who was being taken care of by both their parents. The first time he held Amelia, he had started crying as soon as she opened her big brown eyes and looked at him. She was an exact copy of him when he was a baby, at least that's what his mother said. Y/N had to console him instead of the baby. He was sat there with his arms wrapped around Y/N who held their daughter for a really long time. Y/N had fallen in love with the name Amelia after watching the Princess Diaries growing up and Oscar wasn't about to argue with Y/N about naming their daughter after the Queen of Genovia. That's how she was named "Amelia Opal Piastri"

Oscar kept them hidden from the world after they had mutually decided not to tell anyone except their close friends and family which some how, had now included Lando Norris, much to Oscar's dismay since his daughter from the moment she could speak called Lando her twin; Oscar hated it, he was just dad or daddy when she wanted something but Lando was her best friend and twin. Lando took great joy in having to be able to steal Amelia away. Lando was helping Oscar move since he'd been staying in Monaco longer and moving with a kid wasn't easy. Mia was being very difficult today until she saw her Uncle Lando and jumped out of Oscar's arms running to Lando. "Lan, I mwiss you" she pouted raising her hands as if to signal him to carry her. Lando quickly scooped her in his arms, kissing her cheeks which elicited giggles. She wrapped her arms around Lando's neck and turned to her dad sticking her tongue out making Oscar pout. "Come here, you're my princess" he whined. "NO. I wan Lan" she said and hugged him tighter as Oscar tried to pull her away. "Oscar, behave. We have a lot of work to do. If Lando can watch over her while we unpack, that'll be great." Y/N said kissing her daughter's cheek and giving Lando a hug. Reluctantly Oscar agreed to let Lando play with her while he got the house unpacked.

While the two unpacked, Lando kept their little princess entertained. "Lan, do you vroom vroom fast?" she asked playing with the race cars she had. "Yeah" he nodded. "my daddy, vroom vroom" she paused for a moment to think, "fast more, win, wohooo" she said jumping up when the Oscar car she was playing with won and Lando's car came in second. Obviously, Mia was growing up watching racing; her dad was a F1 racer. Lando laughed when she jumped up; "Uncle Lando won many races too" he said. "My daddy win 2 races" she said looking at her fingers, counting them and holding up 2. She looked proud of herself for holding the correct number of fingers, Lando was proud too.

All that playing had tired her out; she was now laying on Lando's chest mumbling gibberish about how Leo could fly while he patted her to sleep. Oscar came back to find his daughter peacefully asleep. "I hate that she likes you more than me" Oscar stated watching the two. "Who said that?" Lando tried to control his laugh. "You can see right now" Oscar pointed out. "Mate, she loves you so much. All we talked about was how her daddy is so fast and has won 2 races." he added. Oscar smiled, "I'll put her in her room, we just got done with that" he said slowly taking her to her bed.

The house would take a few more months before they would be able to be done completely. Mia was already enjoying her play dates with Leo and Roscoe. Alex and Leo would be over a few times a week since Mia would pester Alex to come over with Leo. Leo loved Mia so much, the two would always be seen rolling around on the floor or running after each other. They never seem to tire out until they did and then they would be cuddling each other in their sleep on the couch. Roscoe was an older dog and he had seen quite a few children, he kept Mia more tame if that was possible. He would look out for her and protect her from harms way. He was very protective of her; it was very adorable to watch.

During the break, Oscar was spending the 3 weeks with his family. Y/N had been taking the bulk of parenting their 2 year old which did make Oscar feel guilty and he would try to give her as much me time when he was around as possible. "It's time for a daddy-daughter date" Oscar cooed at Mia as he carried her to get dressed. "What does my princess wanna eat today?" he asked plopping her on the changing table. "I want dino and fries and juice and white icey and tuddles" she cheered. She couldn't say Vanilla ice cream yet so it was white icey and cuddles were tuddles which Oscar hoped she wouldn't out grow. Oscar changed her into a pink tutu on her request. The two of them sat on the sofa watching Bluey with their dino nuggets, fries and a juice. Once she was done eating, half the fries were in Oscar's mouth but who was counting; he got out the ice cream and this was the one food item she would not share with anyone. The latest episode they were watching finished up and Mia was cuddling her dad. Oscar rubbed circles on her back to help her fall asleep; "I love you my angel" Oscar whispered kissing her head. "I wuv you my daddy" she whispered kissing his chest. She had seen her mum do this a few times and Oscar's heart swelled up watching her imitate her mum.

Oscar and Y/N were busy setting up another room in their house when Mia found Oscar's phone unlocked. No one knew how she got onto Instagram but she did and ended up taking a picture of her face and posting it as a story. Within minutes Oscar and Y/N's phones were blowing up. Y/N saw messages from her friends and family to check Oscar's story; Oscar had already seen what his daughter did. The next race was gonna be so fun trying to explain who that was.

The driver's group chat was going crazy, they couldn't stop laughing about how Mia posted herself. The other drivers joked that she was sick of not being able to attend races so she decided to hard launch herself. McLaren's PR team was making a story up which Oscar shut down quickly. He had been dating Y/N for a long time and had a family with her, he wasn't about spin some shitty tale about it being someone else's daughter. This was the final push that Oscar needed to strike the iron when it was hot. Oscar would propose now; the ring he had bought was burning a hole in his pants for a while now.

oscarpiastri

Liked by landonorris, mclaren and 2,367,458 others tagged y/n.y/l/n

oscarpiastri To a lifetime of forever with the loves of my life💍🧑‍🧑‍🧒

landonorris Mia is so cute in all the pictures, I'm stealing her👀👀 oscarpiastri landonorris NO YOU CAN'T HAVE HER😤😤 alexandrasaintmleux next Leo-Mia playdate when??🥹❤️ y/n.y/l/n alexandrasaintmleux Mia says tomorrow❤️❤️ logansargeant my fav Piastri is growing up so fast😭 Liked by the author mclaren such a beautiful family🧡 y/n.y/l/n mclaren I remember you trying to break it up 😐😐 mclaren y/n.y/l/n I was following orders, I didn't wanna do it🥲🥲 user1 too many things, I can't process it🤯 user2 he has a girlfriend, a daughter and got engaged all in one post🤯😭 user3🤯🤯🤯🤯 user4 Congratulations Oscar!!🧡🧡🧡 lewishamilton Congratulations you two!! ❤️❤️Mia said Roscoe is the ring bearer Liked by y/n.y/l/n charles_leclerc my beautiful granddaughter😭 user5 the Leclerc family is expanding at an alarming rate😱😱 user6 user5 does that make Leo her uncle??🤔 user7 What's her name?? user8 Mia is the cutest name for the cutest baby😍😍 user9 can't wait to watch her become a formula one driver😪 user10 only known her 2 days but if anything happens to her, I’ll kill everyone and then myself user11 the last picture🤤🤤 we might be getting baby no. 2🤭🤣

[g1rld1ary]

overheard that she was nineteen - james potter x reader

wc: 1058

cw: nothing, one swear, reader is sad on their birthday, implied fem!reader but i don't think any pronouns

chat how many aura points do i lose for crying in the literal first 20 minutes of my nineteenth birthday :/ don't think about this fic too hard or you'll see it's more of a diary entry than work of fiction oopsie :')

You weren't feeling very special. To be quite honest, your day had been totally shit. It was your birthday, your nineteenth birthday and everyone had forgotten. Well, that wasn't true exactly, but nobody cared. Your parents had barely said 'happy birthday' when you called them, and only one of your friends had texted you. A sweet message, but still kind of depressing.

You knew it shouldn't have been a big deal, no one cared about nineteen, right? Eighteen was the big birthday and you'd had a good enough day last year, so you weren't really sure why this year had brought you down so much.

Maybe it was just because your love of birthdays was never reciprocated. A person's birthday could be the most exciting day of the year, and you were of the opinion that it should be, if possible. You were the one who showed up with a hand-baked cake on your friend's doorstep, without fail. It was something you enjoyed doing undoubtedly, you spent ages picking out which colour the icing should be and what edible decorations should go on top.

On top of that, you considered your defining talent to be writing cards. It was something you took pride in, penning almost-essays that encapsulated the breadth and depth of your love for your nearest and dearest. Proclamations of never-ending adoration, gratitude for years of friendship, the insides of your heart and soul sitting amongst fresh ink and scribbled hearts. You signed your name with a heart and a flower every time. Plus, you made particular efforts to come up with a creative pun or doodle for the front, just to keep things interesting.

So birthdays were things you held in high regard, and having yours seemingly mean nothing to anyone else was a bit of a mood killer if you were being totally honest. Still, what could you do? You picked yourself up, ate an uninspiring breakfast and went to uni.

You felt more anonymous than usual in class. With the semester having started only a week prior, you were in a sea of new people, none of them having any way of knowing it was your birthday, and you weren't quite at the point where you were begging for well-wishes from people you didn't particularly care about. And so you took notes, put your hand up for the participation grade and dreamed of your own cake and candles.

By the end of the day you were exhausted. The classes were long anyway, but carrying around your own personal grey cloud was taking a toll on your body and mind. It was at the car park when your phone dinged; James.

are you coming over tonight?

please

You smiled a little despite your sour mood. Even if James didn't seem like he was fully aware of your outlook on birthdays, being with him always made you feel better.

It'd already been dark for an hour or so by the time you reached the flat he shared with the boys, the winter weather making the sun disappear at four o'clock. You knocked on his door softly, unable to pluck up the strength to even make your presence easily known. James must've been waiting for you though, since you heard the heavy pad of his feet almost instantaneously.

The sight of him nearly took your breath away, though nothing was out of the ordinary. He was still the same old James, his glasses slightly askew on his nose, but he was looking at you with such softness that you felt the tears spike behind your eyes. You tried to push them down.

"I thought we'd have a bit of an early dinner. I know you won't have eaten at uni." He took your bag, setting it by the entry table softly. You managed to nod, hopefully not giving away all your awful feelings. You tried not to be cut up that he hadn't wished you a happy birthday yet.

All of your melancholy had been for nothing, you realised, when James led you to the dining table. He'd gone the full mile, with a cheesy red tablecloth and single candle as the centrepiece.

"Happy birthday, my love," He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. You couldn't help it, the tears rolling down your cheeks before you even realised. Once they started you had no chance, sobs wracking through your body as James stood beside you, bewildered.

"Is this not okay? Do you not like it?" He fretted as you cried, and you rushed to reassure him.

"I love it, Jamie, promise. It's just," You managed a half laugh through your bout of tears, "I thought no one cared. I can't believe you've done this for me." James' brow furrowed deeper than you'd ever seen it before as he pulled you into a tight hug.

"I would do anything for you, love. I mean it."

Once your tears had subsided you had a lovely dinner, James making you double over with laughter as all thoughts of your previous shit day dissolved under the weight of the homemade pasta sitting in your stomach.

Just before the night died down, James presented you with a small box, wrapped in the most beautiful silky ribbon. You glanced up at him curiously, untying it slowly. Inside was the most beautiful bracelet you'd ever seen. Connected with a heart-shaped clasp and decorated with a single charm, a love letter. You were embarrassed by the tears working their way back up to your lash line, but James looked delighted by the reaction, he lived to make you happy.

"Thank you," You whispered, "I love you."

James didn't have to say it back for you to know, but he did anyway because it made him happy.

Maybe your birthday wasn't the flashy event you might've wanted, however deep down, but you were strangely okay with it. Despite the fact that no one showed up to your door with a hand-baked cake or essay-length card, you had James, and James would've pulled the stars down from the sky if he thought it would boost your mood. That was enough.

[wasteddmoondust]

an old diary || remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x reader 812 words, fluff, remus finds your old diary from this request! a/n: i twisted the request just a teeny bit away from what you might have been expecting. but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless! this was so fun to write and the scenario is just too cute hehe

"Hey, Remus?" He hears your voice call from the library . "When you're free, do you think you can help me organise the storage room? There's a load of books from years ago that I need sorted."

Remus doesn't even hesitate on his answer, he knows he'll do anything for you. The both of you have stuck close since your school days, and took care of each other through the war. He feels forever indebted to you especially for that.

And that's how he finds himself in said storage room, the musty smell of yellowing paper wafting around him.

He scans the stacks of books. There's not many, compared to the rest of the library at least. This should just take the afternoon.

He starts to sort each stack, slowly making a system in his brain on how to tackle this task. But as he's on this third pile. a glimmer catches his eye, and he turns towards the direction of it. Underneath a pile, something familiar is sticking out, but he just can't put his finger on it.

He decides to abandon whatever task he was supposed to do and reaches for the book. Carefully, he slides it out of the stack.

The name on the book knocks his breath.

Y/N L/N, 1977.

That's what is was, your old diary from seventh year.

Remus finds himself frozen. That year was wild, to say the least. The bittersweetness of his final year, relishing of how much youth him and his had left. But mostly, it was the prelude to most of the pain he would experience in his life. This book is holding whatever you were feeling in those days.

He knows he shouldn't peek.

He flips the book open to a random page.

15 September, 1977 Today we went out to the lake, and I realised no words can describe the amount of love I have for my friends. To my dearest girls, Lily, Marlene, Mary, and Alice. I hope we are never too far apart. We shall grow old together gossip even as we do now.

Remus' heart swells at the sentiment, knowing each of the mentioned girls' fates. He flips to other pages, which mostly are written about the daily life of a Hogwarts student. However, a glimpse of his own name gets his attention. He stops to read the page.

25 January, 1978 Remus Lupin. Oh the man that you are. You and your stupid jumpers and stupid books and stupid tea you take with milk and two sugars. What I find the most stupid is the way you treat me. It makes me question who I am to you. Your friend? Maybe more? I can only dream. I don't think you'll ever see me that way. I'm perfectly happy where we are as friends. But somehow if I get even the slightest chance I will be taking it. Even if it comes ten years from now.

He's stunned, to say the least. He never knew you harboured these feelings back then, and wonders if you still had them now.

It's funnier especially when after all this time he never found a way to say he has those feelings too.

He knows what he should do. There's a newfound feeling of courage and bravery in him, and quickly finishes his tasks before you leave the library for the day.

"Oh, done already?" you ask, packing your work bag before leaving. "That was quick. Did you have much trouble?"

"No, not at all. Found some pretty good things in there," he says, trying to act casual. He hides the diary behind his back.

"Really? Do tell."

He pulls out the book from behind. You gasp.

"No way!" You grab it from his hold. "That was in there the entire time?"

"Mhm, I took a peak, if you don't mind," He says.

You furrow your brows. "You did?"

He nods slowly.

"And what did you read...?" you ask. He knows that you know what was written in that diary.

He shrugs. "Let's just say..." he looks around avoiding eye contact. "You said ten years, and it's been fifteen. So would you still?"

You frown, but you know exactly what he's talking about. "Still what?"

"Take the chance?"

You groan and cover your face, feeling your cheeks heat up. You hear Remus chuckle. "So is that a yes?"

Your hands leave your face, showing a pout. "I can't believe you read that!" you swat him playfully. "But yes... I would..."

"Brilliant," he says, smoothing your hair down and smiling at you.

"Now what?" you ask. You mentally kick yourself for asking such a question.

Remus grins, the same grin you've grown to love over the years. "I'd like to kiss you now, if it's alright with you."

The both of you lean in. In the library after fifteen years, he's finally yours.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Chapter 1. Fun Times & Potty Rooms

Summary: Dearest Gentle reader, as another season starts so do the surprises. Masterlist // Next Chapter Words: 1,517 Listen to: What's Up? -by Non 4 Blondes A/N: Don't forget to leave feedback, please! -Danny

Dear Diary,

Mother insists I write even though she knows this isn't what I meant when I said I wanted to write. I'm not a self-referential lady who enjoys talking to herself; in fact, I believe it is quite silly and embarrassing. But alas, I am writing. To myself. 

Why, you ask? Well, for the first time in my five-and-twenty years of living, I'll spend some time away from home. Mother thinks it's time I do so, otherwise I'll be a perfect stranger to other royals and no one will know of me once I become Queen. When I said in jest that it was my intention, Mother didn't laugh. Which hurt plenty, because she usually laughs at the nonsense I spit. Which means she must want me to mingle and socialize. Lord have mercy on all of us.

Mother used to be just like me when she was my age, but she is so regal nowadays that you wouldn't believe she used to trip over armour and set fire to gentlemen's suits. My father fell in love with Mother because she was fire, he often jests.

Are these the things one writes in a diary? I must admit I'm doing this with half a mind since I'm also watching over my twin brothers, Richard and Rowan, and my younger sister Marie, so they do not fall off of the moving carriage. I wish I were more like Marie, graceful and charming, she's all dad. 

I'm boisterous when careless, with my head in the clouds and unable to land swiftly... How is this journey to England going to change that? A bunch of mummies live in that palace. My maid said they are the most rigid crowd I'll ever meet.

The fun awaits.

Benedict rises from his slumber tangled in two different bodies, with the sun streaming down on his face and immediately heightening the dormant headache. When he props himself up, the man on his right rolls over groaning and covering his head with a pillow, then the woman on his left curls away from him, pulling the covers closer to her bare body, baring Benedict and showing the marks all over his body. He used to find satisfaction in them, but lately, the day after his love affairs has been causing him a most unpleasant irk.

Maybe it's time to... settle down?

Benedict shrugs off the thought with a grimace. A boring aristocratic life accompanied by some sensible woman sends him reeling, it's all a bit too serious, and deep within his heart, he's always felt that he could not possibly abandon this type of life. Such a wide variety of companions to love... Why would he quit it?

No fun at all.

You step out of the carriage and your foot slips. Helped by the footman, you give him a soft thank you and offer him a kind smile, but he doesn't look up at you at any moment. You sigh, realizing this trip is bound to be exactly what you imagined.

Your siblings hurry after you and you chastise them. Even though you're around the same age, the twins are just entering their twenties, therefore it's hard to make them understand being loud and bold isn't cute anymore. Your sister holds your arm as she looks up at the castle with curiosity.

"Ample..." Marie says bemusedly.

"All that wasted space," you sigh. "They don't have toilets here, so you'll have to go in your room in a pissy bowl—"

"Y/N," your mother, Queen Amelia, stops beside you giving you a look. "Don't even think about complaining in the Queen's presence... but call it a potty if you are to be funny. Pissy bowl makes you sound five."

You and your sister giggle, which makes your mother send a conspiratory wink your way. A lovely woman. Your father, King Nicholas, comes up the steps and presses his hands to your backs, urging the two of you to enter the castle. 

"In girls, it looks like rain..."

"Are we to spend all of our time indoors, then?" Your sister pouts. 

"That is less than ideal, considering Y/N is here to be outdoors for a change, but I suppose it depends on the weather," your father glares at the sky. "England wishes to give us a proper welcome."

"No, thank you!" Marie picks up her pace.

"I spend time outdoors," you argue under your breath.

The man smiles. "Let me rephrase, then. To meet new people and spend time with them outdoors."

As you enter the wide hall you're welcomed by the Queen of England and her many children. A few are closer to your age, but you do not like the way the male part of the bunch eyes you and your sister. Or the way the Princesses look at your brothers, for that matter.

"Your Majesty, Queen Amelia of Genovia. King Consort, Nicholas Devereaux, and their children— Princess Y/N Devereaux, Princess Marie Devereaux, and the Princes Richard and Rowan Devereaux."

While the girls curtsy and the boys bow, the queens greet each other. Queen Charlotte spares a brief glance toward your father and a little 'hmph' escapes her lips with no further comment. King Nicholas, a man with a sense of humour, glances your way and pretends to loosen his cravat anxiously while gulping, which makes you giggle.

"Ah, Benedict, there you are," Violet surveys her son over the teacup she's holding. "Took you long enough to join us. Where have you been?"

"Morning, Mother, I apologize," he smiles and sits next to Gregory. "I woke up early and walked around Hyde Park hoping for inspiration to strike."

"Seems to me you were the one striking," Colin mutters across the table, eyeing his brother's neck with a grin. Benedict pulls his cravat higher up and glares at his brother to keep quiet.

"Benedict, did you hear the news?" Hyacinth speaks, almost shaking with excitement. "A royal family is attending the first ball of the season!"

"There is always some royal family at balls, isn't it?" He retorts without interest.

"The Queen and King of Genovia are staying in London for the whole season," Anthony says carefully. "Along with their two daughters and sons. I expect you to keep the family name as pristine as ever."

"Is this why you're here and not at home with your wife?" Benedict asks. "You came to scold us ahead in case we were planning to make a fool of ourselves?" Anthony doesn't dignify the question with an answer, he looks at his brother with a steely glare for a few extra seconds before he goes back to his food. Like I care about flimsy princesses, Benedict thinks with disdain.

"Whistledown says this will be the first public appearance of Princess Y/N!" Hyacinth continues, unbothered by her brothers's lack of excitement. "I wish I were old enough to attend the ball..." She turns to Francesca and Eloise. "Will you try to befriend her for me? She must be your age."

Eloise scoffs. "Befriend a princess? If she's anything like ours, she'll be all night fanning herself looking down at every poor mortal that dares walk within her breathing distance."

"They're not quite like us," Colin points out, just as fond of gossip as his sister. "Ever since Queen Amelia ascended to the throne, Genovia has been known for their... er... forward thinking."

Benedict snorts. Whatever royalty considers "forward thinking" is not even halfway there. Eloise, however, leans on the table wanting to hear more of it. "What do you mean, brother?"

"Women are encouraged to get higher education. They participate in sports, hunts, arts— and can wear male's clothing—"

That pulls a gasp from their mother and Eloise, although they're both different sounds in nature. Violet blushes and replies in a shy voice. "Oh, well... if it works for them..."

"They're well on their way to becoming a leading nation," Colin continues excitedly. "Which is why the Queen has invited them. Whistledown made a joke last month... something about England living in the Dark Ages and being the reason why people branch out and leave the country, claimed that Genovia would double in size thanks to us... it was quite merciless."

Anthony shakes his head. "You let women do stuff they're already doing in the privacy of their homes and call it revolutionary. Please."

What would the Queen of Genovia think of people like Benedict? Maybe he should visit the country, perhaps this very season, he would try anything just to escape the usual horde of debutants and dull social events...

"Well, there is a great deal of difference between having to be private and choosing to be," Francesca argues. Benedict smiles at her, a silent compliment he gives every time she outwits Anthony.

"There are other things happening in Genovia, it's not all about women," Colin shrugs it off. "I was just giving an example I knew would interest Eloise the most."

"And which ones were left out of your consideration?" Eloise grins.

"The potty rooms," he states, making Gregory choke on his tea.

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@babypink224221 @Booknerdlife @djsporks @lght-roastcoffee @marii-ren @mythical-goth @omgsuperstarg @creepytoes88 @sarahskywalker-amidala

[aziraphales-library]

Hello dear mods! Can you give a fanfic that focuses on Crowley finding Aziraphale's (super secret) diary entries based on GOs2?

Thanks in advance and for your hard work! <3

Hi! We have an #aziraphale's diary tag with a couple of posts, so check that out. Here are some more to add...

A Dumb Screenshot of Youth by FandomStar (G)

A photograph and a diary entry hidden together for eighty years are not what Crowley anticipated finding upon his first return to the bookshop since storming out after Aziraphale's rejection.

My Dearest Diary by Caedmon (G)

While cleaning his back room, Aziraphale stumbles upon the diary he's kept for the last thousand years or so. He decides to sit down and have a little glance through it, and he can't help but be struck by the fact that there's one theme that threads through it... anticipation.

Dear Diary by The_Glacian (G)

My first baking experiment in our new home at the South Downs didn’t go quite as expected.

Empirical study on the principles of snake care by azzfell (T)

From the confidential journals of A.Z. Fell Volume 893 Do the principles of snake care apply to your local humanoid-demon-snake hybrid? It appears that not enough academic research exists on this subject. But all it takes is one brave amateur scientist. Part One of the Aziraphale's Diaries series

Epistolary by imposterssyndrome (E)

“Dear Diary, Today I encountered that most interesting phenomenon that is pornographic cinematography." Or Crowley discovers Aziraphale's personal diaries. What starts as a curious investigation about the angel's 'pornographic cinematography' experiences leads to Crowley wanting to find out about what he missed during his 14th century nap...and lots more. He discovers just how much miscommunication they had between them and how it led to so many misunderstandings. He finds out about how Aziraphale felt about him over the centuries and tries to reconcile that with his own feelings, especially now that Aziraphale is up in Heaven and not allowed to return to Earth...

Dog-Eared & Illuminated by sillyteehee (E)

"Confidential journals,” Aziraphale calls them. Well, if he’d been so concerned with keeping his precious diaries safe from prying yellow eyes, maybe he shouldn’t have abandoned said eyes alone on Earth and fucked off back to Heaven. A story about the following, in no particular order: boxing up old memories, unpacking even older ones, lots and lots of red wine, Muriel trying on sunglasses they're not supposed to, neatly looping cursive, Crowley getting his groove back, and an angel and a demon who are figuring love out.

- Mod D

[rottendollface]

The Horror of Our Love. Chapter 4.

Co-author: @bigtimesalt8196

Character: Childe Tartaglia | Ajax.

Image: Picsart Al.

Warnings: NSFW; Ajax is older than in canon;

broken time line and age line for the sake

of plot; female virgin reader, incestuous

relationship, family abuse, self-harm,

misogyny, mentions of rape, unprotected

sex, black magic, blood and flesh magic,.

body horror, sacrilegious, Foul Legacy

Childe, breeding kink, miscarriage, marriage

grooming, pregnancy, erotic lactation.

murdering, abyssal soulmates, serfdom

system in Snezhnaya; all the characters are

adults; 18+.

Time was running mercilessly and the date of Ajax's departure was getting closer. Your mental state improved and you opened to your family, but the common joy ended quickly, as you hid into your wordless shell again, frustrated with a hollow feeling of upcoming loneliness. 

Ajax was stressed out. It wasn't rare for you to find him talking to himself, discussing plans for the future and even arguing. Ajax's short temper and unreleased anger were showing at these moments: he was gesticulating in an excited manner; if not, he was walking back and forth, and sighing heavily. 

It happened again when you were searching for Ajax to tell him to come and help others on the stable. You heard his heavy footsteps on the second floor. Before you knocked on the door, you overheard him saying something about grandmother. 

“How in the world could an uneducated hard-working woman become a witch? Still can't get it right in my head.”

You shouldn't be heeding to his words – you were taught not to eavesdrop, but something in your mind told you to stay and spy on Ajax. You pressed your ear to the door and leaned on it. It was unusual and exciting for you until you heard someone answering him.

“You don't need to have specific knowledge to become a witch. She was in so much despair and pain it made her prayers especially sweet and strong. We couldn't ignore such a broken soul. After she got the power, she got the education as well – we taught her to read and count in one hour.”

You frowned, trying to understand who Ajax was talking to. You didn't hear that voice before and it sounded strange: loud, deep and hoarse. At first you couldn't even understand what the person was talking about – their speech was gibberish without words. You heeded, then your mind translated it to a normal humanly sounding state.

“Brilliant. And who was she praying to?”

“She was praying to the devils, young master. The disadvantage of her choice is simple – you never know who will answer to your call.” The person chuckled. You frowned. “In her case, it wasn't just a deal. It was a salvation. We saw a potential in her: her hatred and thirst for vengeance were commendable. She wanted someone from her family to inherit the power and continue the legacy. Just like in the prophecy.”

“A prophecy?”

“Not now, young master. You want to ask me about the diary and the missing part of the power, I can feel.”

“Don't you dare tell me what I want to do.” Ajax hissed. “I had enough of this! One more time you and your fucking henchmen show me these lousy dreams I'll send you all to the deepest of the Abyss and let the guards have some fun with you all in the same manner. Speak and then get lost, son of a bitch.”

“So, part of the power was passed to your dearest sister and there is no way for you to get it back from her, but she will share it with you.”

“What?!” Ajax was stunned. 

“Ask her yourself. Not in my duties to explain everything to you. But I must confess she has a rather beautiful birthmark on her pretty back. Such a pleasure to watch her dressing up in the morning.”

You felt that someone pushed the door and jumped back so as not to fall into the room. 

“Ajax! Father needs your help on the stable.” You spoke first and played like you didn't hear anything. Ajax froze with an aggressive expression on his face, but his gaze became softer when he looked at you. 

“'Thanks,” He didn't wait and rushed to the stable. You stood aside to give him enough space, then looked into the room.

You made a step into it. The atmosphere here was different. A cold sweat broke out your body when you realized whom Ajax was talking to. In a second you felt that everything around you was hostile and hurried to get back to your room, but the door closed right in front of you. In fact… you had questions too, but you were afraid to build up communication with those ghoulish creatures. 

“How can I get rid of you?” You asked into the fake emptiness. 

“There is no way.” The answer was given to you immediately. You cried out, regretting your decision. “We serve your brother.”

“What about me? You said I have the same power as him.” Your brain was running fast, as you tried to rate the risk of the situation. You didn't want to repeat your recent journey of escaping demons, so you stayed alerted. Just a reminiscence of it made you weak in your knees.

“You stole a part of it from him. We mean no harm to you because of the master's order, but we have no desire to help you.” A mocking voice said, leaving you angry. 

“You caused me a lot of harm.” You flared up. You realized that you wanted to play dirty on them. “I'll ask your master to execute his threat. You'll get what you deserve.” You grinned, imagining the torture Ajax promised to them. “Open the door.”

The door opened with a creak. You stepped out and the daze fell from your mind. Your heart was beating like crazy and your limbs started shaking from the fact that you commanded those demons. 

“I hope you are suffering in a sulfur flame, grandma!” You couldn't keep the sudden outbreak of anger inside your throat. It all was her fault. Ajax and you were doomed to repeat her miserable fate because of her selfishness. The old fool believed in some prophecy – you were sure it was just a fiction of the demons to trick her into selling her family's souls to the devil as well. “Stupid cunt! Why couldn't you kill your husband without this fucking heresy?!” You screamed and froze. You opened your eyes so wide they hurt and pressed your palms to your mouth, trying to understand what you just said.

You made it to your room, feeling dizzy from the overexcitement. You laid down to rest. You felt so disgusted by your attitude you couldn't even believe that you let these words out of your mouth. Guilt was gnawing at your heart. Your head and your chest were heavy, you were about to doze off to sleep. Recently you got health issues: no matter what, you always were sleepy. With every day it was harder for you to wake up and get out of bed. You slept for ten and more hours, skipped meals and house work, as you felt completely drained out of energy. Even father stopped bothering you: despite his strictness, he was concerned about your health. 

Suddenly you remembered about the diary and your attention focused on it. You got up but sat down on the edge of your bed, because your vision blacked from a sudden move. You took the diary from its secret place and started reading from the very beginning. You didn't know what you hoped to find, and everything you read didn't make any sense. The words were written in a normal human language, but you couldn't understand a thing from it, as if the diary itself didn't want you to know its secrets. 

You stopped in the middle part to examine a magic circle that was drawn on a page. It was a simple circle with two smaller size circles inside of it. The smallest one had inside two triangles merged in the shape of a star, and in the free space in the middle of the triangles there was an eye; outside the smaller circles there were four crescent moons. You looked at it carefully, then read through the text on the next page and managed to understand it. The text was about an astral plane – an experience of lucid dreaming with the astral projection of your soul traveling through the spiritual world. Flashbacks of grandmother's house attacked your mind right after you decided to explain to yourself the definition of the spiritual world. There was no other useful information to gain and nothing was said on how to get into another world. 

You returned the diary to its place, then realized that there was something wrong with it. It seemed like the diary was deciding which information to give to you, and which one to hide – maybe it was some sort of magic. Bewildered, you took a deep breath and laid for a nap. You were in a slumber when Teucer opened the door and came to your room on his tiptoes. He looked around, then stared at your face. 

“Older sister,” he whispered and shook you by your shoulder. You woke up with a scream, making him jump back. “There is a noise inside your room!” By Teucer's tone you could tell he felt as scared as you. 

“What? I heard nothing.” You rubbed your sleepy face, hardly understanding what he was trying to tell you.

“No! I could swear I heard something inside!” In a second Teucer turned into a whiny boy, his voice got crying notes – it was his usual strategy to attract attention to his words. “'Like someone was scratching on the wood!”

“It was mice, probably.” You tried to wave him away. You were too tired to talk: your whole body was heavy and your eyes were closing on itself. You couldn't sit anymore and lay on your side. Teucer's ginger hair irritated you with its bright color, it made your eyes hurt. You couldn't hear him anymore, simply ignored everything he tried to tell you. Teucer ran away, as he got no response from you.

Just a moment after he came back with Ajax, lamenting on your behavior. Ajax sighed, patted Teucer's head and promised to take a look at the situation. Teucer, who was feeling like a hero, left Ajax and you alone. “What's wrong, dove?” Ajax closed the door and sat on the bed. He brushed away hair that fell on your face. You could feel his peculiar look with your skin.

“Nothing.” You mumbled, hiding your face in a pillow. “I just want to rest.”

“Don't want to seem rude,” Ajax's voice was anxious. “but you are resting too much. Are you okay?”

You didn't answer him, as you fell asleep already. All Ajax could do was to cover you with a blanket and leave, tormented by conjectures. He asked the devils by his side about your health, but their answer was vague – an eclipse was about to happen. Ajax spent the day without you, hoping that you would wake up, but you didn't. 

As usual, he came to your room at night when everyone else was asleep. Ajax found you awake, reading the diary. Two candles were illuminating the room; the wind was howling behind the window, bringing chilly air through the loose shutter. Your room was the coziest in the whole house to Ajax, because it was you to leave here. It was located in the back of the house, poorly furnished and cold, but your presence made it comfortable and welcoming. You closed the diary and put it in the secret spot.

“Do you mind sharing something interesting with me?” Ajax blew out the candles and made himself comfortable in bed. He laid on his side, so he could face you.

“Just a magic book paired with an autobiography.” You did as well, looking at your brother in the dark. “Ajax,” you started, but stumbled, afraid that your question would make him angry. Still, you continued. “Is there any chance for us to return to a normal life?”

“It is our normal life now. You better get used to it.” Ajax sighed. “It is our fate, dove, and we can do nothing about it.”

“I don't want fate like this. I would better die, than…” you bit your tongue, realizing how foul your words were. 

“We were talking about the diary.” Ajax replied with a stern voice that sent shivers down your spine. 

You got nervous and scratched your clavicle. “I don't understand what is happening. Why are we talking so casually about something like this, ignoring all the devilry that is surrounding us?” 

You were the voice of sense, and Ajax lost all his words. You were right – for him it was a usual topic, but for you, who almost lost one's mind contacting the devils and was contaminated with abyssal power against one's will, it was a delirium of polluted brain. 

“That's not something we should discuss for a night. I'll tell you everything later.” Ajax put his pinky finger towards you and you did so, sealing the promise.

In a small talk you were the one to lead the conversation. Ajax kept you in his tight embrace, replying leisurely. His warmth and soft smell of his sweat made you feel relaxed – in this chaos of life Ajax's hands were the only space you felt safe in. It was selfish, it was unfair, but Ajax was the only reason that kept you in this world. His love was your motivation to live and become better. You wanted to protect Ajax in your own way by giving him solace he needed. No one could replace you in his life, no one could love him and comfort him better than you. Was it jealousy? It definitely was. You couldn't even imagine Ajax doing the same things he did for you to another woman. Those fantasies made you feel angry and reckless. 

You turned your head to him, his lips were dangerously close to yours. You looked at him, waiting for something more – out of sudden the desire to be closer awoke in you. Ajax tarried, taken aback by your sudden move, so you pressed your lips to his gently. He slightly opened his mouth, helding your lower lip between his. You felt Ajax fingers brushing over your jawline, that made you hold your breath. An unusual drawing feeling curled in your lower belly; it made you thirsty for more than a kiss – your nipples hardened, full of lustful sensation. 

“This is wrong…” he whispered, pulling away from you. The two extremes were fighting inside his soul – being on the verge of another Fall, Ajax suddenly remembered that he was a virtuous man once. Even his corroded heart contracted nervously. He desired to have you, but you were his sister.

Perhaps, he just needed a little push into this abyss.

Ajax quickly got on top of you, his trembling hands caught your hips. It was the first time he touched a woman in such a private place, that left him overly excited: the beast he was restraining broke out. His mouth covered yours, he placed heated kisses across your face, got down to your neck, biting soft skin, then traveled lower, until your night dress. Ajax's ardor surprised you, the way he forcefully pushed his tongue inside your mouth and squeezed your breasts with tenacious slender fingers made you squeak. 

Ajax lost his mind: all the moral borders were broken and he was striving to push his erected member into your hot, wet place. Afterall, you were a woman in the first place, so it was nothing wrong in sharing bed with you and making you bear his children. 

It was hastily and clumsily, as arousal and thrill of being caught took over both of you. Ajax pulled down his pants quickly; you felt the tip of his cock pressing to your entrance. It was more painful than you expected it to be, so you bit on your index finger to ease that stinging feeling.

“Please, relax…” you heard your brother's husky voice. You did as he asked, and Ajax showed more of his member into you. It was hard not to cry, as it felt like you were about to split in half from this burning and stinging ache. Ajax's lips were trembling, as he was close to climax already.

You kept silent when Ajax started bucking his hips into yours. The process wasn't pleasurable at all and left you praying for it to end soon. Ajax, unlike you, couldn't keep his voice inside his throat, and moaned quietly: your quivering wet walls wrapped him around, sucking his cock deeper inside your womanhood. He had never felt more pleasure in his life. It didn't take long for Ajax to cum, staining your walls with his seed.

The following fuss went in a shy and wordless atmosphere. You left to clean yourself up, and Ajax stayed in the room to fix the bed. Intimacy proved to Ajax that you loved him the way he loved you – and your relationship should result in marriage. He was ready to marry you right now, but it was impossible to his own regret. Demons suggested Ajax take you to another village and introduce you as an orphan to a priest, so the marriage would be possible. His mood lightened – it was the first time those devils recommended something good to him. 

You came back and curled on the bed, as your lower tummy still disturbed you. Ajax hugged you and fell asleep right at the moment, soothed by your warmth. Your brain was restless. For demons it was a triumph, you thought. Despite the fact that this night was calm, you still felt their presence. They were a part of your normality, so you tried to think positively of them. It was very convenient to have servants like them, probably: all the dirty and impossible work was on their shoulders and they couldn't say no. 

You snapped out of your cogitation. You got an awareness that it wasn't your thoughts. They belonged to your head, but were planted in here artificially. You knew yourself well enough (at least you thought you were) and it wasn't in your character to have such destructive ideas. You didn't want to end up like Ajax – losing yourself over uncontrollable animal impulses that were implied to him by demons. They were trying to take control over you, you were sure, and Archons did nothing to protect you, which led you to a painful question – was there any point in praying to someone, who didn't respond to you? Slowly you started to understand your grandmother, and it sent shivers down your spine. 

To calm down you got out of bed and came to the window. Looking out, you saw the Moon. It was unusually bright today, you could see its surface in detail out of your window. It was exciting, for a moment you forgot how to breathe, beholding celestial beauty. Was it possible to reach it? You never heard of experiments of entering outer space, but you were sure it was possible. Why didn't Archons try it? Or, maybe, there were experiments, but in your obscure village no one heard of it. You sighed heavily. You were jealous of Capital citizens, they had everything on their plate by birthright. Ajax promised you that he would find a school for you in the Capital, but you were sure it wouldn't happen. He would be a regular soldier, no one would even think about doing him favors at the beginning of his career. If only you had access to actual knowledge and science… you brushed it away. You had enough disappointments in your life and didn't want to focus on sadness before going to bed.

Unexpectedly, out of nowhere, you saw a green lightning in front of you. It disappeared before you could react, and something fell on the floor, making a sound of fallen glass. You picked up what turned out to be a trinket, something similar to a pendant by its shape and design, but it lacked a chain. 

Shadows in the room started shifting chaotically. 

“What happened?!” Ajax jumped on the bed, aware of a strange sound. He quickly made it to the window and looked out, then he rushed about the room. “I heard something.” Ajax was turning his head, his eyes peering into the darkness. 

“I don't know…” You came to him and showed the find. “It appeared here.”

“A Vision!” Ajax exclaimed and covered your hand with the trinket. “You should hide it, okay? Don't let someone see it.”

“Why? Is it bad?” You got scared and wanted to throw it away, thinking of it as some kind of cursed treasure.

“No. I don't know what you wished for, but Celestia found your desire worthy of attention and granted you Vision. It allows you to manipulate a certain element of nature,” Ajax took his hand off and looked at it. “Dendro, in your case. I have one too. Mine is Hydro.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” You spoke with an offended tone. You thought Ajax would share such a great thing with you, but he chose to conceal it.

“I was told not to. I'm sorry, dove.” He got a guilty face and scratched his head. “But it means we became even closer! You and I both have extraordinary powers. I'll teach you how to use them.”

“I thought we were close enough already. Thanks, I guess.” You looked at the Vision again and decided to hide it in the same spot with the diary. 

You had no idea on how to use it and why you needed it, but at the same time it gave you a hope – if Celestia counted you as worthy, then your future was determined to be interesting and wasn't bonded with this gloomy village.

One day was left until the set date. You thought parents would prepare some kind of celebration or a farewell dinner, but nothing was done. Everyone took it as a natural part of his life, as if nothing had to happen. You were puzzled, until you realized: for them Ajax's enlistment in the Fatui was a shame. Instead of saying proper goodbye to Ajax and spending time with him, father brought his friend, Pavel Korneevich, into the house and introduced him as your groom to everyone.

You could swear: you physically sensed the immediate tension and confusion coming from Ajax. Your opinion wasn't welcomed, so you stayed silent, afraid to stand up for yourself. You weren't just shocked – you were scared to death. All your dreams for a happier life were about to be broken with a marriage.

It was scandalous: Pavel Korneevich was old enough to be your father. You were indecently younger, yet it didn't stop father from bringing this man into his own house. With this gesture he showed how little respect for you he had had, and the scanty amount of good things he had ever done to you was immediately forgotten by you. That grain of love you had for him was destroyed and turned into pure hatred. But Pavel Korneevich… How could he even think about marrying you? He was out of his mind, if he thought of you as a suitable wife for himself. 

“Is this some kind of a cruel joke?” Ajax's aura gave you shivers. His tone was serious, yet soft and sickly sweet, while his slightly narrowed eyes were fixed on the guest and father. “Don't you dare to put a ring on her while I'm out. I want to see my dear sister walking down the aisle with my own eyes.”

Ajax's words didn't make sense and you hoped that he said it only to win time. Ajax stood behind your back and put his heavy hand on your shoulder, that almost broke at the weight and a tight squeeze that he gave you. You portrayed a labored, trembling smile.

“Of course,” Pavel Korneevich nodded. “We need no rush in such things.”

“Sure,” Father grunted, munching on his wrinkled dry lips. “You are free to go. We have business to discuss.” Then he looked at you and, without calling your name, addressed you. “Pasha will talk to you later.”

On numb legs you made it to your room, Ajax following you like a shadow. As soon as you entered the private area, you cried out and fell on your knees, helpless and miserable. All he could do was hold you in his arms and remain silent. 

A familiar shadow appeared in front of Ajax, waiting for instructions. Ugly, ridiculously slim and tall, the demon in the shape of a man with a pig's nose was looking right into Ajax's soul. A second shadow, small and stout, showed up right near the first one: the same pig nose, but also small sly eyes. It was too late to pray, so Ajax made an order – to ruin the wedding and kill Pavel Korneevich, but his death should seem natural. By sinister smiles that bloomed on twisted faces and revealed sharp, abnormal teeth, Ajax figured out that the order was taken. They disappeared to prepare their nasty trap.

“Worry not, dove,” Ajax nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck. “I'll take care of it. Your brother will never leave you. I'll always be here to help you.”

On the contrary, Ajax's words made you feel even worse than you did before: dragged away from his home, he would think about you without the opportunity to communicate with you properly. You wanted to disappear, to dissolve, to stop existing in a physical way only to escape from this agony. If not Pavel Korneevich, then somebody else would be chosen as your groom. Parents wouldn't miss an opportunity to get rid of you. What could you do? 

“Take me with you!” You clutched at the collar of his shirt, your gaze crazy behind the clumped lashes and redness of the eyes. “Take me with you, or I will run away!”

Ajax hardly endured your emotional breakdown. Your broken voice and hysterical ideas were impossible to listen to; at this point he wished for the night to come sooner and take him from this cursed house – he didn't tell you that Fatui would take him in the night to avoid unwanted attention. Ajax stayed until you cried yourself to sleep. The last day with you was meant to be tragic, for his own regret. When the clock struck midnight, Fatui appeared in the yard, waiting for him. Mother gave Ajax a heartless kiss at his cheek, and father remained uninvolved. Ajax left without looking back not to torture his soul. For the first time of his life he found calmness. 

The gate grated, soldiers in heavy boots left, leaving deep footprints on the snow; a small lamp went out inside the house. The moon was unusually bright, its agily light oozed into the house through every crack. Your room was filled with moonlight, making it as bright as day. In your dreamless sleep you heard someone calling your name, and your body, hit by impulses, stood up on its own, pursuing the voice; step by step you made it to the front door.

The door opened on itself and closed, when you walked out. Your bare feet touched the snow; it melted from your heat. A bigger celestial body closed the Moon, causing the eclipse and hiding all the blissful light that Illuminated you. You felt like falling: the horrifying hungry maw of abyss opened under your feet, swallowing you into the darkness and covering your body with snow. You opened your eyes and saw nothing. You landed on the stone floor, all your body responded with pain. 

It was a big room with just one chair and a burning fireplace. Cold walls of unknown color were hidden in the dark, as well as other spaces of the room. You heard steps and a woman appeared in front of you. She had long white hair and manic crimson eyes. Her expressionless face scared you.

“This must be a joke.” She smiled to herself. “How could a worm like you deserve the Forgotten God's blessing? This is ridiculous.” She turned back on her heels. The cape on her bony shoulders followed her moves, and you noticed dozens of death masks that froze in scream on the hemline. 

“Where am I?!” Your voice broke on scream. It couldn't be that the nightmare from your grandmother's shack found you in Morepesok.

The woman sighed irritably. “He had one job – yet he failed. You are in the Abyss. The power you stole from your brother brought you there.”

“I want to go back.” You stated. Unusual hardness in your voice made the woman laugh. “This ain't funny! I'm tired of these devilish tricks I'm being involved in! I swear this time I'll fight you instead of running away!”

“Then fight.”

At an impossible speed she made an attack that struck you into your shoulder and made you fly to the nearest wall. You couldn't breath at the pain you felt – it seemed like your clavicle, scapula and ribs were crumbled into tiniest pieces. You were opening and closing your mouth with no sound, just like a fish that was taken out of water and left to die on the surface. It was a pure shock that paralyzed you and concentrated your brain on the inhuman pain. 

The woman sat in the chair and looked at the fireplace, as she immediately lost her interest in you. You didn't know how much time had passed since you were left to suffer, but it felt like decades to you before you were able to stand up. 

“You possess great power, yet I bet you know nothing about it. That's why you should think before stealing.” She spoke, watching the fire. “I heard a prophecy about brother and sister, who would free us from the shadows we were trapped in and restore the ancient order. It doesn't matter anymore – deep inside I stayed skeptical, and it proved that all prophecies are lies. Look at your right hand.”

You did as she said and staggered. One of your wrists was abnormal: your fingers, palm and veins got black, traces of the same color ascended until your elbow. 

“I'll teach you the concept of ritual – that's the starting point of your journey. Then, you will be on your own.” She let out a short chuckle, full of sadistic anticipation.

[ellievickstar]

Final Choice

A/N: So, I saw your guys making up ideas for this part…I must say. Some were happy, some just wanted Azriel to suffer…which one did I go with? Well…read to find out :) Also the beginning of this fic is in Rhys’s POV since Azzy and our dearest Y/N are kind unconscious

Summary: When then mating bond finally snaps into place, what are you meant to do when you realise your mate has another in his heart, will you break it off to save yourself, or will your mate be able to save this heartbreak?

Request: N/A

Pairing: Azriel x Witch!Reader

Warnings: Self-hate. Mostly written in Rhys's POV I thought it would be funny to see his monologue of things. confessions. Heartache.

~*~*~*~*~

Rhys’s POV

This was…unexpected. Not that it wasn’t out of character for Azriel or Y/N to end up sabotaging themselves instead of talking through their issues like normal adult faeries or witches. I shook my head as Nesta helped to break the shield around Y/N. Thankfully, for that spell to work, the witch casting it had to be able to stay awake the whole time, if not, the safety measure — that had been weaved into the ritual by Y/N’s mother — would kick in and stop all magic completely.

Both were alive and I breathed out a sigh of exasperation. Couldn’t they have waited until the morning to do something so extreme? I was pretty sure I was still hungover from drinking with Cassian and Azriel to distract one from worrying over the fact his mate hadn’t come home. He could feel her alive and well across the bond, but I suspected she needed space, so we made sure we drank him into literal oblivion.

If only I had known this was what she was doing….

I shook my head. No, this wasn’t my fault. Feyre had already been telling me to stop blaming myself for everything that happened to our friends, but hell, if I had let Azriel go after her then maybe they’d work through their feelings, if I had ordered him away from Elain when I first suspected that he was starting to hurt Y/N, maybe things would be different.

I heard my mate come up behind me, she glanced at the pair, shaking her head disappointed. it reminded me of my mother when she caught me trying to sneak out for a flight around Moonstone palace. Wrapping a wing around Feyre, I pulled her closer to me, making sure to drape an arm around her waist.

“Nyx is asleep again, he had quite a fright from all the screaming, but he’s alright now,” She murmured. I hummed as I watched Madja — her eyes looked as if she was going to kill both witch and Illyrian once they awoke — with the help of Nesta and Cassian, drag both unconscious bodies to separate rooms.

“Azriel is…a dumbass,” Amren said from beside us, Varian nodding from beside her. I had no clue where the latter had come from, but it was anyone’s guess what the two had been up to when the events earlier transpired. Feyre agreed with Amren, but I had a small inkling that she was being biased towards the witch she considered a sister. Smiling to myself, I let go of Feyre if only to pick up the worn out leather book that had been beside the symbol-spell-ritual, whatever the witches called it.

Flipping through the pages, I noted that there was no name on the book, but I was sure that this was a diary. There were personal accounts of someone’s life, while a few pages here and there were sketches of spells or instructions on witch magic. That’s when I came across a familiar name. This entry said:

‘Y/N is only five now. But, I can sense the war is coming…soon. I don’t know if I will survive. My Magic is growing weaker, Y/N is feeding off of it, but who could blame her? Especially…when she’s more powerful then any other witch in history. I don’t quite remember what her father was…but his name. I will never forget his name. My love. I miss my lover.

So this was her mother’s diary. Interesting indeed. I hummed carefully as I closed the book, all the information I needed was inside. All I needed to do now was get a hold of that sand that was used in Y/N’s rituals. “Feyre darling, how would you like to speak to the dead?”

~*~*~*~*~

Y/N’s POV

“Why do you love him, Y/N?” You closed your eyes as the question rang through you. “In all of my lonely nights, when I was a ghost inside, he was there for me. Whenever I drank too much, whenever my eyes cried floods, he would be there for me, he’d listen. He made my demons go away, he would clear the darkness, he was there for me. He was there when I lost faith, he was there through every heartbreak. And I’d do the same for him,” You admitted.

Your ancestor smiled at you. “My dearest child, you can’t see it can you?” “See what? I love him. I love him I love him I love him. But I don’t understand if he loves me? When I look at him and her I can’t help but wonder ‘what about us’? what about all the times we spent together? What about all the times he said he would have the answer for me? What about all the moments we shared, what about all the disastrous pranks, plating footsie under the table, laughing together under the night sky during Starfall? What about love? What about trust, what about us?” Tears began to fill your eyes. You didn’t understand anymore. You were so sure that breaking the mating bond was the answer, but when you did you felt it, that love for you, but you also felt that love he had for her. Her.

You couldn’t put it into words. How you felt that roar of love for you, but there was that spark, there was something that kept him from loving your completely. And you didn’t understand. What happened to promises of forever, what happened to ‘whatever end’? What happened to the both of you. You wanted to cry, you wanted to scream at him, wanted to let this pain, this confusion out. You couldn’t help but feel so alone. What happened to the times you stuck around with him even when everyone blamed him for something went wrong. What happened to the times you would listen to him for hours as he croie down because of nightmares? What happened to the times you’d soothe him, even if it was the latest hours?

Your heart was breaking and there was nothing you could do about it. You had no way of knowing whether he truly loved you. How could you believe anything he said? After all the times you had to watch as he fell over himself because of Morrigan. After all the times he practically ogled at the youngest Archeron. Would there ever be a day you would find piece within your relationship? Your heart was bleeding and no amount of stitches or bandaids could stop it. You bit the back of you closed fist as you sobbed. “I can’t do this anymore…please,”

“I will always be here for you, you may summon me whenever you wish, not just in your dreams, child. But even if there are times you can’t bring yourself to call me, just look to the moon. It will shine the same wherever you are, and I’ll be here as you search for the light,” She bent to your height as she gently took your hands. Her fingers lightly brushed against your cheeks. “It doesn’t matter what he decides, in the end, you are still the most powerful queen of witches there has ever been,” You nodded, but something in you wanted to know more. But before you could ask anything, she had already disappeared, leaving you alone in the endless darkness of your own mind.

~*~*~*~*~

Rhys’s POV

Getting ahold of the sand as a fae, was hard. We visited six different merchants all selling witch’s tools before finally we met a merchant that could sell us the sand. Feyre had gasped when she hear the price, but to me it felt like I had barely scratched the surface of my account, Feyre called me entitled when I said that to her. (A/N: we love rich Rhys)

Okay…so the book says to pour the sand on the ground in this shape. Feyre held out a hand and I was confused at first before she rolled her eyes and said, “You’ll get it wrong, plus, I paint, so I have steadier hands then you,” I wanted to scoff but she was right. She was better suited doing this. Especially with those hands that were basically built for painting and good artwork.

After the...spell? Ritual? Magic Shape? - I'll have to ask Y/N - was complete, I opened the diary and chanted the words that was written. Light magic seemed to burst from the sand was it began to glow. Feyre squinted her eyes against te bright light while poor me had to keep on reading the book.

And as the light finally began to dull down I looked up, and smiled.

"Your majesty," I purred as I bowed to the hooded figure before me. Feyre looked confused at first, but as the woman lifted her head and smiled down at us, she froze and curtsied.

"No need for that High Lord and Lady of the Night Court, though, I did wonder when you would finally call. It seems my daughter has gotten into a bit of trouble, hasn't she?" I nodded, rising to face her. She was as elegant as I remember, clad in white as flowers were weaved through her thick curls. Unlike Y/N's near-straight brown hair, hers was dark and black as a crow's feathers. She held her head high with an air of grace as her crown signalled to all who she truly was, the hood she had previously cloaked herself with melting away.

The late Queen of Witches. Y/N's mother.

"Well to be quite clear, your daughter is an absolute joy and she will make a wonderful king. But unfortunately, we do have a few questions, concerning the spell that breaks the mating bond," She nodded, wanting me to continue. "I can sense it...I can still smell the connection between them and even as they shut me out of their minds their souls still seemed to be intertwined. So if that spell didn't break the bond, what exactly did it do?"

She hummed, considering my question carefully, thinking silently to herself before nodding as if agreeing to something. "I cannot tell you much, High Lord, but what I can tell you, is that what is that both of them are the key to what holds them back. Not one, but both," I wanted to ask her more. Beg her for answers if it meant saving my two friends, but without a word she had vanished, the spell had given out. I had no skill of my own to be able to maintain the line of communication between us and the afterlife, I couldn't redo the spell. I didn't know how to save my friends from themselves.

~*~*~*~*~

Y/N POV

Blinking away the darkness you were greeted to a warm sight, with shadows creeping across the ceiling, and a shadow singer sitting close to your bed, his arms crossed, fury was clear as day, stricken across his face.

"Why would you do that?" you sat up, trying to understand his question. All you remembered was the pain...the ritual...the mating bond! You reached out to that tether you used to feel and as I realised it was still there my heart sank. "I- I didn't think you truly wanted me as a mate," You blurted out as you silently arose from your bed.

"What must I do to make you understand? I want to be with you!" He tried to approach you, but you raised a hand and he stopped. "Why? Because of this- this cauldron forsaken mating bond? Because you feel some nobility some honour saying that you chose to be with your mate!? You didn't even want to be with me. Even before, you were going to leave me, now the only difference is that your soul is bound to me and even then everything you do is just-" He let go of an exasperated breath as he listened to you rattle on.

"What can I do? I told you I love you but it seems everything I do is some scheme or because I feel pity for you. Have I hurt you so much that you cannot bring yourself to believe that every single thing I do is insincere," He paused, breathing heavily as he stepped towards you. "I don't know what else to say, what to do. I'm sorry. I love you. I wish I could take everything back. But don't walk away from me. Hit me, tear me apart, give me new scares to carry the shame for the rest of my life. Break my heart, break it a thousand times over, it was only yours to break anyways. But stay with me. Please," You didn't know what to do, and as his hands finally reached you, red hot magic seemed to burn between you as you gasped and he hissed, pulling away.

What in the name of the mother? You blinked as the red print of magic from his had seemed to fade away slowly from my skin. That was...how. Looking back at Azriel you tried to recall what you had read about the ritual. When it failed it would create a shield between both mates so that the ritual would not be tried again. The only way to break this spell was...you shook your head and sobbed into the back of your fist as you made a terrible realisation.

"The book- 'This wall shall only be destroyed if both souls accept their own and each others truest emotions for each other. Only then will they come together.'" Tears streamed down your face, you had been so stupid. So, so stupid. And now it was hurting Azriel. You felt so stupid, and angry.

You tried to sit back down, but you completely missed the bed and tumbled to the floor, Azriel unable to do anything as he stared at his own hands, shock still written in his features.

This was bad.

"I see you both have finally awoken. And now we know what the little spell did," Rhysand spoke up. You whipped your head to the door and there he stood. Feyre smiling as she waved to you, happy that you hadn't killed yourself on accident yet. "The spell shouldn't exist. I have accepted that Azriel will never love me, and he has accepted that I will always love him, even if it tears me apart inside, even if it has nearly killed me...several times," You said. Azriel shook his head as he buried his face in his hands, and Rhys seemed to frown.

The High Lord and High Lady said nothing in response, only opting to pat Azriel on the back as they left. You didn't understand. You had to be right. There was no way that Azriel loved you, right?

No. These hopeful thoughts would only harm you. You mustn't think too much of what ifs. That's when Azriel finally spoke. "I swear to you, I will spend the rest of my time here making up for everything I did. I can't excuse how I've hurt you, but I will try to fix this. I will court you how I should have, love you until you can see, and I will wait for you, everyday," Gazing up into his brown eyes, ones that were usually piercing and intimidating now soft and sincere. You smiled as a small piece of you heart began to believe that maybe, this could be real, allowing you to make, this final choice.

"Okay."

~*~*~*~*~

A/N: I decided to stop torturing you guys. I love all of you <3333 my bestest babes. I will be doing bonuses if anyone has any requests, but this marks the end of the choice series. I know this is abit rushed but it's been dragged on for so long and I didn't want the series to be long either. Also because I think you guys kinda deserve a happy ending. I love you <33

taglist: @azriels-mate123 @penguinsworldsblog @hannahx1111 @jacksonpleasestopkillingme @positivewitch @happyseadreams @fuckthatfeeling @meritxellao @xiangping-28 @clarkie-carmody-blog @aroseinvelaris @azrielhours @shadowsinger-654 @azzydaddy @nisa-wisa @cosmic-whispers @cat-or-kitten @thecraziestcrayon @thegirlintheshadows101 @marina468 @act1839 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @holywolfsstuff @gengen64 @goldenmagnolias @tobifeemo @readerworld22 @cyrygher @shisingh @txzii @antisentimentalus @t0uch-starved-h0e

(If your user is in bold I could not tag you, sorry T^T if you want to be tagged please specify in the replies <3)

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

Welcome my the new masterlist. Yes thats vhagar you saw that right.

UPDATED ON 12-7-2024

Hello, welcome, welcome welcome!

I hope you brought cookies

Aemond Targaryen

The girl in the silver dress (Modern royalty au) (Completed)

🔷Summary: You are invited to become a selected girl for Prince Jacaerys's selection. You never thought you would fall for his uncle, prince Aemond instead

part one part two Part three (completed)

Heaven knows (We belong way down below) (slasher au)

🔷Summary: Reader or oc (You) is the new resident of a seemingly peaceful town, which hides dark secrets.

prologue, part one (Mini series) (NOT CONTINUED!!)

Wicked dark and twisted dreams part one (vampire au)

🔷Summary: After you have been kidnapped, you get sold to the vampire king's brother, Aemond Targaryen.

One part, possibly being rewritten into a bigger series, but thats a maybe. A really big maybe. (NOT CONTINUED!!!)

Sweet Nothings (College au) formally known as ''Games in the library''

🔷Summary: Your GPA is tanking and you need help. Luckily there is the grumpy antisocial Aemond to help you out.

PART 1 PART 2, updates planned but it will be a mini series. (Maybe continued)

The heart is an ocean (Aemond titanic au) (mini series)

🔷Summary: You attend the ship of dreams, the Balerion in hope of finding your match to enrichen your family. But fate is cruel for those who dream. And the Balerion might not even reach the harbor of Valyria.

Part one, part two

updates are planned but it will remain a mini series.

the doomed jaessa (???) (aemond avatar au) ONE SHOT

🔷Summary: You are a witch hunter, looking for the witches that killed your family all those years ago. Those people are called Heyks or Summoners.

Part one, one shot.

maffia au (aemond maffia au) One shot

🔷Summary: Its your 21st birthday. You dont expect to spent it as the captive of your new criminal husband, but here we are.

Part one, one shot, but might be rewritten in a bigger series.

Sandstorm (Dornish oc x aemond request) (One-shot)

🔷Summary: You are Elna/Reader Martell and before you marry you go on a vacation to the land that always held a close space to your heart: The Six Kingdoms. You become the captive of Aemond Targaryen.

One shot, Part one

A little wicked (dark prince regent x niece)

🔷Summary: After your husband dies, his brother claims his throne and also you.

Part one, one shot

Ashes Burn

🔷Summary: Dark aemond fic about a girl who becomes aemonds bedmate. Very dark.

part one, part two, part three, updates planned but might become a smaller series.

What power looks like dark prince regent one shot

🔷Summary: You once bullied Aemond and fell in favour with his brother, but now that Aegon is uhm...not able to talk right now, Aemond wants revenge for all you did to him. And he means all of it.

Part one, finished one shot

Fight and die (Main series)

🔷Summary: Your ancestors once betrayed the Targaryens and paid a high price. Now you are back at court with your brother, who hopes to sell you in exchange for his freedom.

Part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part 6.

The Song of Ice and Fire (Mini series)

🔷Summary: After getting kidnapped on your way to King's Landing, you end up in another time where you meet a dangerous prince

Part one, updates planned.

Mis characters

Daemon Targaryen

Daddy dearest (stepdaughter request) (One shot)

🔷Summary: You are Rhaenyra's and Harwin's daughter and you just proposed to Aemond, your stepdaddys worst enemy.

Part one, one shot, finished.

Vhagar

Vhagars diary (on hiatus for now)

Summary: The majestic dragon Vhagar shares her story, in a exclusive interview/tell all biography. What does she remember and what can she tell us about the past? What do we know? Vhagar tells all is part of a mini series featuring three parts of Vhagars life leading up to house of the dragon, with her ...unique thoughts and perspective!

Part one

Aegon Targaryen II/ Attention

Summary:🔷Summary: You are studying in college and you fall for a mysterious boy named Aeg. Who hides a dark secret.

Part One, more updates planned, mini series.

Older masterlist with old work (mind your step please) series

Old and mostly very dark fanfics about aemond.

Ready to read somewhere else?: Bitterballetje - Works | Archive of Our Own

CHAINS OF BONES=GOD AEMOND

PART 2 PART 1

[doukeshi-kun]

𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙛✗𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙚, 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙡 𝙬𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙚

featuring ⨳ stalker!nikolai gogol x fem!reader

synopsis ⨳ “I flirt with my woman by chasing her with a knife, dearest. And she likes it. She loves it. She loves it so much that she can't stop thinking about it. She thinks of her chaser so much that her pretty brain can't hold all the thoughts she had about him that she has to put it all down into her little journal.” Nikolai presses his knife a bit harder, “She likes it.”

contents ⨳ stalker au, 18+ content, dark content, harsh languages, very dubious consent, predator/prey dynamics, threats, manipulation, rough semi-public unprotected s*x, horror descriptions, repetitions are intentional, masochism, violence, impact play, oral (both receiving), knife play, hints of ‘exhibitionist’, light mindbreak, very toxic relationship, obsessive and possessive behaviour, dead dove do not eat

notes ⨳ stupid ass labels ruin my hardwork. thanks a lot. now i have a reason to post this draft. fyi this is a part 2 of my stalker nikolai au

❝ Day 6 of him not being outside my house.

One more night and it will be officially a week since he last came here. Truthfully, dear diary, I know I should feel relieved and happy that one threat to my life is gone, even if it's temporary.

But I think he fucked me so hard that he fucked my head too.

I can't stop thinking about him. Not in a bad way. I just can't get him out of my head. Every fucking time, I find myself looking at my phone at work because I hope he texted me creepy messages. I purposely wear short clothes when I'm out in the living room because I want to tease him. I don't even lock my doors, hell, I even leave my wardrobe slightly open.

Why why why why am I acting like this? I'm losing my logical sense! I should not do those stuff! I should not rile a fucking murderer! No normal human would think of walking around their house topless, nipples out, perked and shit, just for their fucking stalker to see!

I blame my fucking hormones.

Maybe he's right. Maybe I'm a whore this whole time.

I am ashamed of myself.

I am also ashamed that I actually wait for him to barge in my house again. I want to experience that first night when he first talked to me as Kolya. I want him to wat no no what the fuck am I writing

Anyway, dear diary, I'm quite excited about this weekend. I will go out to have a drink— actually we'll get fucking drunk so fuck yea

I wouldn't call myself a lonely person, but I do... have very few friends. Maybe it's because of my weird hobby. Maybe it's just my social skills. But, putting that aside, I am quite happy that I am actually invited to go.

Because nobody invites me that often. pathetic bitch

And very rarely do people take my invitation to go on some horror adventures with me. I could count on one hand how many people have come with me to enjoy those scary things.

Maybe I should put myself out there. I can't stay this aloof and alone without a companion, or a genuine genuine friendship. Romance is one thing, but to be honest, having a deep friendship is beautiful too.

I hope I can have a best friend. Maybe one day. If I don't fuck myself up in my life so badly, that is. ❞

— ˚ ១。read more? ☄.

— ˚ ១。read more? ☄. [AO3]

[merakiui]

Hii!! I love your Lunar Love Hotel event so much! I didn't see any mention of you closing the requests yet, so I hope they're still open! (Otherwise, feel free to delete this.)

I would really like Red Bean Mochi and Blueberry Muffins for Rollo? I adore the idea of him leaving one of those with just the most creepy undertones, and completely anonymous, because it's the only way he can sate these vile feelings for a little while :') But feel free to do whatever you want with the concept!

yandere!rollo flamm x (gender neutral) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors, stalking, obsession, slightly morbid/dark thoughts note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order! [lunar love hotel]

i. the diary of rollo flamm, in which you will find various love letter drafts and daily musings eloquently scrawled within perfumed pages.

𝓔𝓷𝓽𝓻𝔂 『1』

For the hour I remained in the café, you smiled a total of thirty-seven times, one smile per customer and one or two depending on coworkers you’re well-acquainted with. I would have counted your every laugh, every blink of your perfect, pretty eyes, but then that would be like counting your every breath, every heartbeat, and it would be impossible to come up with an accurate sum when you’re always so...alive. One breath could be two taken at once, and a single blink could simply be my own eyes shutting and opening before yours do. Therefore, it is impossible to truly quantify your every movement without looking completely, utterly, foolishly enthralled. 

I suppose this feeling is what you might call love. For all of the romances I have read and all of the romances I have witnessed in this city, whether intentional or not, the love I feel is not bitter or sweet like some might describe. It simply exists; it lights a crackling flame within the concrete hearth that is my heart. I should liken it to warmth—to linens fresh from the dryer or spiced mulberries or bright, dancing fire. It is comforting like the winter coat I don in order to combat this deathly chill. 

I have never felt this way before. 

Today, when I ducked inside to avoid the frigid snowfall outside, the bell above the door announced my arrival, and you were there at the register as always. You smiled at me, once when our eyes met and a second time when you had asked me how I was doing and I had said, “Cold.” You laughed, but I am not a comedian. I will not pretend to be one for your sake, but I appreciate your hospitality all the same. Your optimism, even if manufactured for the customer, is inviting. 

Perhaps you reserve such reactions for me?

I visit this café every Sunday at exactly 10:30 in the morning. It’s important to be methodical in every aspect of one’s life. Schedules are necessary; they create order and peace. I have visited so often that you know me as a regular. You know my name and how it’s spelled. You write your L’s slanted and your O’s pumpkin-shaped (most likely because Halloween is approaching and it’s your attempt at being festive, even if the O’s look more like obscure shapes than pumpkins). You look at me when I step over the threshold into a room of coffee-scented comforts and you say, “A warm croissant and a cup of classic espresso with milk and foam, right?” And I nod every time.

You know me well. I will know you even better. 

Your name tag reads (Name). It’s a lovely name. I could write lines of wonderful words describing the way it feels when I speak it to myself in front of a mirror or when I whisper it late at night as though it’s a secret. But I will not, as I am not usually very poetic, and that is a task suited for a poet, which I am not. 

Surely you have a surname. Most often do. However, in the event that you are lacking one or are not too fond of the one you currently possess, you are welcome to take mine.

𝓔𝓷𝓽𝓻𝔂 『2』

My first attempt at a love letter is as follows:

You are the warmth that melts icecaps and reshapes glaciers. No, not quite. Am I trying to compare you to the catastrophe that is global warming? Think romantically, Rollo. This is the City of Flowers, after all. Surely there are better phrasings...

You are melodious like the Bell of Salvation like the sweetest birdsong. You are warm and fluffy like a croissant. You are love incarnate. If I could pry you open rib by rib and live within your beating, blood-filled heart, we would be together forever. Bound eternally by flesh and blood.

These lines feel rather crude. How do romance authors capture the complexities of love so easily? Beautiful words come from the deepest pits of the heart, or so they all claim. The words I wish to tell you come from my very soul, yet I cannot seem to transcribe them here. Should I be direct? But then blunt honesty is not nearly as romantic as flowery prose.

Dearest, sweetest you,

For every smile you grant me, I live another year in good health. For every syllable of laughter and delight I hear, I feel inclined to give you the world, whether in ruins or not, if only to witness your happiness.

I suppose a start is a start, even if it’s a depressingly abysmal one. I hope this week passes fast. I’d like to see you as soon as possible for some much-needed inspiration and, of course, so I can watch you.

𝓔𝓷𝓽𝓻𝔂 『3』 

I arrived at the usual time, but you were too absorbed in conversation with a customer to notice me. I consider myself a fair, level-headed man, and for that reason envy is not usually an issue. But the casual manner with which that fool wrote their number on your arm, tattooing your perfect, pretty skin in sinful ink... You smiled and laughed with them, promising to call them after your shift, your perfect, pretty eyes ablaze with excitement or wonder or awe or... I’d much sooner poke them out with sewing needles than witness you fawn over numbers. I watched all of it from my place in line, gripping my handkerchief in such a tight fist my knuckles blanched. 

You should know jealousy makes a man like myself monstrous.

It’s important that I keep this diary to detail all of my innermost desires so that I won’t feel compelled to act on them. But in that moment I had wished that, if you were to receive a phone number, it would have been given to you on a piece of paper. Paper is easy to shred and discard and burn. It is not an easy feat to sever an arm from the elbow. 

But I can be patient, as I often am, so that you will come to love me in the same way I love you. 

I write this as I watch you flitting about behind the counter to prepare my espresso. I wonder if you ever catch a break. This café is quiet on Sunday mornings, but I’m certain it’s much more lively during the week. I wonder if it’s ever empty and you sit in here on your phone, waiting for something to happen. I wonder what positions you might like to try on the counter, the tables, the booth I’m sitting in...

I had to shut this diary momentarily when you came to deliver my order. Sometimes I wonder if you would share my sentiments on magic. I almost asked when we talked briefly. Your perfect, pretty fingers were drumming along the circular, silver tray as you looked at me, smiling your perfect, pretty smile. I asked if you were studying anything. You told me you were taking a gap year, and then you had asked if I was a journalist because, in your words, I am “always scribbling away with your nose in that book.”

I suppose I am, in some manner of the word. I smiled at you, sipping from my espresso, and said, “The subject I’m studying is very special. One-of-a-kind, you might say.” A poor excuse at flirting.

I am not a flirt, and I would never pretend to be one. I am genuine in all aspects of my life, especially when it comes to love. You must know this. 

You were going to ask me to elaborate, but the bell at the door announced the arrival of more customers and you drifted away from me with an apologetic smile. I caught sight of the number scrawled on your arm as you retreated. Magic could numb you well enough while I bring the blade down, so fast it will be but a mere flash. I should not cut your arm. I should not hurt you.

I should not love you to this extent. 

Like the Crimson Lotus, you are a vibrant, fiery temptation. I fear the contents of my chest have already been reduced to ash. 

𝓔𝓷𝓽𝓻𝔂 『4』

The Crimson Lotus requires adequate nutrients like any other flower, though such nutrients are distinctive to this species. Unlike normal blossoms, the Crimson Lotus is parasitic in nature, sustaining itself with magic. You might liken them to the average pest, whether human or insect, or a fire that will only grow when fed more fuel. I could compose an entire novel on cultivation techniques and facts. I could also set these flowers loose and watch them wreak havoc on the city. The students from Night Raven College will be visiting soon, with a certain Malleus Draconia being among them. I wonder if they’re fond of parting gifts, by which I mean parting with their oh-so-treasured magic.

I hope you aren’t a mage. If you are, I’m afraid I might have to hurt you.

Rambling aside, I shall try my hand at a love letter once again.

Dearest, sweetest you, 

You are the joyous scents and sounds of lively city streets, of bakers boasting fresh, fluffy bread, of florists flaunting floral arrangements in all colors and species, of townsfolk turning the city upside-down come festival time. You are the golden glow that befalls the land when the sun rises, and you are the silvery shimmer that swathes all who sleep under the moon’s watchful illumination.

You are the air I breathe. The air I need. You are the bell who should rightfully reside within the tower I will construct. The tower of my heart? The tower of true love? If I could climb inside your skin, I might come to know the real you.

Perhaps I should pick up another romance soon. I know nothing of poetry or love letters. 

𝓔𝓷𝓽𝓻𝔂 『5』

I followed you home today. 

I am a fair, level-headed man, and so for that reason I know not to cross the law. But can you possibly expect a man of my nature to remain lawful when he is in love? They say love should surpass all. Does this not include the law? Does this not include morals and standards? If love is so mighty and marvelous, then why might some label my actions wrong and wicked? Is this not just a form of protection?

I do not intend to scare you. I do not intend to make you feel unsafe. 

I followed you home today, and you did not notice. How could you when you had headphones on?

You live in an apartment on the third floor. If I counted correctly, you should be seventh or eighth from the entrance to the stairs, tucked neatly away near the end of the hall. Perhaps I should make a copy of your key so that I can immerse myself in your privacy. 

I am a fair, level-headed man, and so I will not steal anything. But if you do find something of yours has gone missing—whether a personal item or what you think is insignificant trash—I have merely borrowed it for my own use. I cannot promise whether I might return this borrowed item, but I can at least promise that it will be put to good use. 

I could construct a doll in your likeness. I would need clothing, perhaps hair, skin, teeth, a tongue to entwine around mine... That’s morbid, isn’t it? Fitting for Halloween, but grotesquely harrowing. A silent doll who resembles its human counterpart in all aspects but the vibrancy of life... I’d much rather have the real you than a patchwork doppelgänger. If I tried my hand at fashioning you from needle and thread, I would just create a corpse. There are artists who only paint pain and misery, hence why we now look at certain paintings and consider them cursed. I am not a poet or a doll-maker, so I will not write poetry and I will not stitch dolls together. 

I am not a villain.

The urge to knock on your door had seized me then, when I stood in the hall in front of what I assumed was your door, my fist raised in preparation to knock thrice. Superstition says that if you receive three knocks on your door or windowpane, someone you love will have been taken away by Death within three days, weeks, months. I suppose Death does not need to conform to time after which the three knocks have been granted. Well, I believe in no such things, and I am not Death. 

But you’ll certainly think I am when you can’t see me.

𝓔𝓷𝓽𝓻𝔂 『6』

Before I welcome the Night Raven College students, I visited you. You weren’t home. It was Sunday. 10:30 in the morning. I slid a letter under your door. Sugared thoughts are sealed inside with red wax. I’m not afraid to admit here that I am not entirely confident in my prose, hence why I’ve left it anonymous. I’ve penned the exact letter here for my sake, should I ever need to flip through these pages again to remind myself of the frustrations I conquered just to craft a single love letter. 

Dearest, sweetest you,

I have never felt this way before. When I spy you through the window, I feel as if the stars have aligned to fix the very fate which has led me to you. Your smile is invigorating; your laughter is an enchanting melody. Perhaps you reserve such reactions for me? In that regard, you know me well. I will know you better.

I am not a flirt, and I would never pretend to be one. I am genuine in all aspects of my life, especially when it comes to love. You must know this. Unfortunately, it’s saddening to see how easily you fall prey to simple pleasantries. Infuriating, almost. You should know jealousy makes a man like myself monstrous. But I can be patient, as I often am, so that you will come to love me in the same way I love you. 

Like the Crimson Lotus, you are a vibrant, fiery temptation. I fear the contents of my chest have already been reduced to ash. I should not love you to this extent.

I hope you aren���t a mage. If you are, I’m afraid I might have to hurt you, if only to show you right from wrong. I followed you home today, and you did not notice. How could you when you had headphones on? I do not intend to scare you. I do not intend to make you feel unsafe. I only wish to love from afar for now.

I am not a villain, but you’ll certainly think I am when you can’t see me. 

[theunderneath]

Read a few pages

Walking over to one of the tables in the room, your gaze wandered over all of the papers. You felt a little overwhelmed by all of the papers.

Jumping as a loud thud rang out into the mostly quiet cabin. You quickly turned around and sighed just seeing a book that fell off the table.

Walking over to the book, you picked up the thick novel. It didn’t seem to have any title.

Running your fingertips over the leather cover you wrapped your fingers around it and turned. You watched as the book open revealing what looked to be an index for this house.

(Some of the links for the bigger fandoms couldn't fit all here, so just click on the name and it'll take you to its own master list)

Anime

One Piece

Golden Kamuy

Hetalia / 2p Hetalia

Bleach

Yandere Aizen with a chubby Darling (Headcanon / EDITED)

Yandere Ryuken Ishida headcanon (EDITED)

Yandere Kisuke Urahara Kisses (Headcanon / NSFW-y / EDITED)

Yandere Ichigo cuddling with his Darling (Headcanon / EDITED)

Yandere Kisuke Urahara headcanons (NSFW-y / EDITED)

Demon slayer

One punch man

Most likely to least likely to give their S/O an aphrodisiac (headcanon / Sweet mask, Fubuki, Garou / NSFW / EDITED)

Garou, Fubuki, and Zombieman Darling want to play the Pocky game (Headcanon / EDITED)

Haikyuu

Nanbaka

Hunter x Hunter

My Hero Academia

FMA/Fullmetal Alchemist

A conversation about Greed being a yandere

Jujutsu Kaisen

Toji with a sassy plus-sized Darling (Headcannon / EDITED)

Poly Yandere Gojo and Geto with an S-grade sorcerer reader (Headcannon / EDITED)

Ouran highschool host club

Dress Up Darling

The Apothecary Diaries

The Ancient Magus' Bride

JJBA / Jojo's Bizzare Adventures

Darling Dearest Fashion Art

Darling Dearest Expressions Art

Black Butler

Bucchigiri?!

TV

DC

Marvel

X-men

Yandere Erik Lehnsherr with a reader that has the same power as him? (One shot / EDITED)

Slashers/Horror movies

Games

Danganronpa

Overwatch

Yandere Hanzo headcanons (EDITED)

Resident Evil

Twisted Wonderland

Genshin Impact

Other media

SCP Foundation

Creepypasta

Yandere Masky x touched starved fem reader (Headcannon / EDITED)

Yandere Masky headcanons (EDITED)

Yandere Hoodie and Eyeless Jack headcanons (EDITED)

Others

Meme about blog and post 

Yandere meme (Guess I’ll die)

Do I do platonic yandere? 

Fanart of other people's OC (ONE, TWO, THREE)

Old OC art

Old creepy art (ONE, TWO)

Meme about SCP and my blog

100 follower special

Fanart of the white dear

Self-made art of another artist's rendition of this blog username

An artist rendition of this blog username (reblog)

Me simping over another OC called Fox (art)

Shit post Hearts Day (art)

Yandere short story

Lookism

Viral hit

Manager Kim

--

The index you hold in your hand closes. Your eyes feel heavy from how much reading you just did. There is not much to do now.

You could rest, maybe eat some food in the kitchen, but you have a suspicion if you leave the house and return at a later date. There might be more wonderful stories for you to read.

However, the choice is yours. You could mark this cabin on your map to return to or close the door on this chapter to continue on your journey unburdened.

The choice is yours.

[buckybarnesss]

laura hale: darling, dearest, dead

welcome to where i care way too much about teen wolf in the year 2023.

i have no shame.

i've been working on this meta for a few weeks now and it’s definitely grown past its original scope. at first, i just wanted to do a deep dive into the weirdness around laura’s death but of course that expanded as i sat down and hashed out my thoughts.

@renninflight 's tags on one of my posts really gave me the push for this because i've apparently just been waiting for the opportunity to talk about the mysterious murder of laura hale

shoutout also to my teen wolf buddy and tumblr mutual of forever @dear-massacre our teen wolf talks definitely helped, probably wormed their way in here and this wouldn’t have existed without you.

laura's death is the core mystery of the first season and i’ve always been intrigued by the circumstances surrounding it.

i’m definitely not the first to question the circumstances surrounding laura’s death but i’m going to put on my tinfoil conspiracy theory hat and discuss the events just prior to wolf moon and how laura hale haunts me the narrative.

buckle up buttercups this is long.

just to get this out of the way immediately, i need you to understand that teen wolf's plots and timeline were apparently written on a soggy napkin found crumbled up under the seat cushion of jeff davis's couch. season 1's story is the most cohesive but there wasn't a show bible for a long time, which explains its loose relationship with keeping consistent canon. this post on the teen wolf wiki from september 2013 says explicitly that some assistant was tasked with writing one. this would've placed it after 3a had aired but before 3b did. 

while i won’t be digging into the teen wolf timeline here, i will be working from my own understanding of it.

a lot of teen wolf is left to implication, inference and subtext as we the audience are locked into scott mccall's point of view and his knowledge of what's happening. this allows for scott to be ignorant about the world he unwittingly and unwillingly enters so that information can be doled out at a steady drip and the mysteries heightened.

that said, onwards to what has become my teen wolf magnum opus.

introduction: the dead girl

laura hale is the ultimate dead girl trope in teen wolf which is a show littered with the corpses of dead girls. it makes sense of course when you know she is the narrative sister of laura palmer of twin peaks fame. 

unlike laura palmer though, laura hale never gets to tell her story. she is dead before the show begins.her corpse is treated cavalierly by scott and stiles, desecrated by the argents and stripped of her personhood.

interestingly, david lynch’s daughter jennifer lynch not only a authored a spin off novel for twin peaks told from laura palmer’s perspective called the secret diary of laura palmer but also directed four episodes of teen wolf (silverfinger, i.e.d, perishable and codominance). 

it's a cool connection.

i like this quote from esquire about laura palmer and the creation of the dead girl trope:

“we don't see laura with any control over her circumstances. we meet her after she's been wrapped in a plastic bag and left to rot, which essentially leaves her narrative and legacy to be largely determined by those who are investigating her. we don't learn about laura through laura—we learn about laura by piecing together what she left behind.” 

laura hale’s murder also invokes a visual similarity to a real life beautiful dead girl as well.

elizabeth short.

elizabeth short is known to history as the black dahlia. her naked, posed, and bisected corpse was discovered in a vacant lot in january 1947. she was 22 years old. 

when betty bersinger discovered elizabeth that morning she thought she’d stumbled upon a mannequin. in a way, she had. the person elizabeth short was is often lost amongst the sensationalized headlines, salacious gossip and speculation surrounding her case. instead, she has become the perfect, posable victim unable to tell her own story.

elizabeth short is the template for all the dead girls in modern media. 

what makes laura hale different though is how she’s a non-character within teen wolf despite her death’s significance as the unpreventable, fixed event within the show’s universe.

laura hale has the most in common with the other dead beautiful girls erica reyes and paige krasikeva. each of them killed before their full potential could be realized their ghosts left to haunt the narrative.

as i said earlier though, the circumstances surrounding her death have always intrigued me. i’ve always believed there was a sort of convergence of events happening prior to wolf moon that led to the inciting incident of laura hale's murder. 

we’re even told this throughout the show if you’re paying attention. 

one of the things i always wished we’d gotten from teen wolf was more information about not just laura herself but what exactly she knew prior to her death but we can infer quite a bit. 

let’s take a look at what we do know.

a history lesson: drinking poison from the same vine

to understand what happened to laura hale when she was killed we have to step back and look at what happened before the first scenes of the show. 

in particular we have to take a look at peter hale, the argents and the alpha pack. this means revisiting visionary among some other relevant episodes.

visionary is probably one of if not the most central lore episode within the series and it also gives us a glimpse of both talia and laura hale while they were still alive.

laura herself is more of an afterthought in this episode as she's never named on screen. 

so what does visionary tell us about laura?

it tells us that she was already in a leadership position within the hale pack by this time and is clearly put forth as talia's natural, intended successor due to her very presence at the summit. it also tells us kali, ennis and deucalion knew laura hale personally even if it was a fleeting acquaintance. 

in the finer details of the episode we learn a few other things such as talia, laura and peter were all aware of the threat of the argents. we learn one of ennis’s betas was killed in retaliation for killing two hunters. the death of the beta seems very cruel and unusual as we learn that he was shot through the throat, his claws were ripped out and he was cut in half. 

the last point in particular is notable as there’s only one hunter we know of that cuts werewolves in half. 

gerard argent.

motel california is just a few episodes prior to visionary where it’s revealed that alexander argent killed himself in 1977 at the glen capri motel after being bitten. gerard claims it was deucalion that bit his brother which is how he justifies his actions in visionary.

is it the full truth? doubtful. maybe alexander argent was bitten by deucalion and maybe he wasn’t but gerard seems to believe he was and that is what matters. 

belief in the teen wolf universe is a real, tangible concept but it’s incredibly important to the narrative conceit of this episode. gerard and peter are both unreliable narrators who purposefully minimize their roles in the stories they tell. maybe they even believe their own lies to a degree.

what we know as the audience as it’s proven multiple times throughout the series is that gerard rejects the idea of peace and is known for being brutal and cruel in his methods. 

visionary also goes a long way to illustrate that peter hale has always been, you know, Like That. he skulks around the story even in his own version of events where he’s trying to minimize his own role in paige’s death.

i believe that the non-existence of laura in his story except for a throwaway mention about how laura told derek about the packs being in town is two fold. one, peter was jealous of laura’s position in the pack and two, his guilt over killing her. 

peter’s guilt is an interesting thing because he is first and foremost all about the survival of peter hale but he does care about those he perceives as his. for him, killing laura was something he regretted but was necessary so that peter could gain the alpha power. 

laura was a sacrifice. 

another thing about visionary is the absence of peter and talia’s relationship but who else would’ve told her about derek and what happened? talia isn’t surprised when she finds derek in the cellar. 

over the course of the show we do not get a lot about talia and peter’s relationship which is a thing that keeps me up at night but i don’t think it’s too far of a leap to conclude that talia knew her brother’s nature and probably saw it as useful in it’s own way so long as she was the one holding the leash. the way peter advises derek is probably not too far off from how he advised talia. 

there’s a tiny glimpse of this in season 4’s monstrous.

meredith walker is subjected to peter’s inner ravings while he’s comatose as they somehow connected mental frequencies.

there’s parts in there about how he’ll be a vengeful god and remake the supernatural of beacon hills in his own image and blah blah blah it all tracks for peter but the parts about talia are interesting not only because it gives us a glimpse into how peter perceived talia but also because he specifically name drops the argents as the threat. 

is it the full truth? no. peter subscribes to the from-a-certain-point-of-view version of the truth and we have to remember this is peter just after the fire. he’s comatose, horrifically injured and on some level he’s aware that most of his family is now deceased.

what looking at this gives us is peter’s perspective and what he latched onto post-fire thus creating the peter we meet.

“i predicted this. i told talia this was going to happen. something like this was going to happen. i said they were going to come for us. the argents. they’re going to come for us. they’re gonna burn us to the ground. they’re going to burn us to the ground. did she listen? of course not. did anyone listen? they listened to her. yes! say that everything was going to be fine. that we were all perfectly safe. but she made us weak! she made us weak. and what happens to the weakest in the herd? they get picked off by the predators. we used to be the apex predators. until talia turned us into sheep.”     

there is another key point about talia and peter that i think cannot be overlooked. the removal of memories. she took the memory of the nemeton’s location from both him and derek after their experiences there and she also took the memory of his tryst with corrine that resulted in malia’s birth. 

i think what these things together tell us is that peter hale is vengeful and resentful but not just towards the argents but also talia but talia is beyond his reach. laura isn’t.

the last player that needs to be examined is the alpha pack. visionary gives us a version of events of why deucalion is the way he is and it ends with him killing his beta marco absorbing his power. this in itself isn’t actually all that interesting as this was the foregone conclusion. 

when you combine it with what jennifer tells derek in the overlooked though it was just a few months after this she is attacked by kali at the base of the nemeton, which means the creation of the alpha pack was already underway mere weeks after deucalion is blinded by gerard.

we know talia hale was aware of what happened to deucalion along with gerard argent’s involvement so it would also stand to reason she would then be aware of the creation of the alpha pack. i cannot imagine it would escape her notice that both ennis and kali’s packs were decimated by their alphas and then they joined with deucalion. that seems like a cataclysmic event that’d get through the supernatural grapevine quickly. 

if talia knew then so did laura as she was like i said clearly talia’s successor.

the mysterious death of laura hale part I: who cut laura in half?

let’s revisit the scene of the crime to examine the absolutely hinky circumstances surrounding laura's death and what the hell was happening in the woods the night scott was bitten by peter.

if i learned anything from gil grissom the first piece of evidence is the body. this is how we and scott meet laura hale.

i don’t think it’s speculation to say that peter hale killed laura but it was gerard argent who cut her in half. 

in the season 2 opening episode omega we meet gerard argent and learn of his propensity to use a broadsword to cut werewolves in half but it is chris that gives scott the warning.

chris: "scott do you know what a hemicorporectomy is?"

scott: "i have a feeling i don't want to."

chris: "a medical term for amputating somebody at the waist. cutting them in half. takes a tremendous amount of strength to cut through tissue and bone like that."

this foreshadows what happens to the omega at the end of the episode but it reminds the viewer that we’ve already seen a corpse like that.

it may be a drop in the bucket compared to all the trauma scott has experienced since that night but i don’t think laura’s severed corpse is a sight he’s forgotten. which is what i believe argent is counting on here.

he knows what his father did. 

he’s intimidating scott as much as he’s warning him not just about lydia but also about his father’s impending arrival and what gerard is capable of. 

by this point chris knows kate broke the code by killing the hales in such a gruesome fashion but what does kate say when chris confronts her in code breaker?

chris: “i know what you did.”

kate: “i did what i was told to do.”

gee, i wonder who gave kate the carte blanche on killing the hales? i bet he also used paige’s death as a way to manipulate her as we see him do with allison. he was in town after all when paige was attacked by ennis and subsequently died. it's not a stretch to believe that a seasoned hunter like gerard would be able to spot a supernatural death cover up via animal attack.

the argents talk a big game about their women being leaders but gerard is the puppet master tugging on kate’s strings just like he did allison’s in season 2. this doesn’t minimize kate’s own sociopathy. kate can be a victim and a perpetrator.

we know from visionary that the argents have been known to operate around the beacon hills area to hunt but they don’t live there until chris and his family move there just prior to wolf moon.

i think we can infer that gerard ordered chris to move to beacon hills in response to laura hale being back in the area for the first time since the fire and i don’t think he aimed to just keep an eye on her.

there’s another overlooked aspect as to why gerard would be very interested in laura hale. he wants to cure his cancer via the bite. in fact, i wouldn’t be surprised if he would have offered her kate in exchange for the bite. 

sure, it’s speculative, but i think there are enough pieces to support it as a working theory.

unlike peter there is never a confession from gerard about his part in the crime so why am i certain he did it?

let’s go back to the body for a moment.

while there’s a lot of gore, most of the blood is on laura herself. 

there’s a significant lack of blood either around or underneath laura. with the amount of trauma we can see on her body there should be a bloody mess but there isn’t.

also notice how her arms are splayed out. it’s like she was dropped there.

she also doesn’t appear to be all that decayed so she’s still pretty, uh, fresh.

so again why do i believe gerard cut her in half if peter killed her?

not only can we infer in the subtext from the conversation chris has with scott in omega but looking at the cut on laura’s body it is too clean to be from being ripped in half by an animal or a werecreature. 

however, a person with a sharp, heavy sword with the know-how that we know does this? seems a bit more plausible doesn’t it?

also kate literally tells us that hunters did it. she doesn’t name gerard but she informs derek in the tell: 

“yes, your sister was severed into pieces and used as bait to catch you. unpleasant, and frankly a little too texas chainsaw massacre for my taste, but quite true. but here’s the part that’s really going to kick you in the balls. we didn’t kill her.”

neither the audience nor derek know if kate can be believed. i don’t think she’s lying here. she’s taunting but not lying.

why lie when she knows how badly this knowledge will hurt derek?

she goes on to add:

“found bite marks on your sister’s body derek. what do you think did that? a mountain lion?”

this i believe was a fib. were there bite marks? possibly, but more likely from savangers than peter taking a bite out of laura.

also the fact that laura’s lower half was found by joggers probably means it was visible from a path which gives some credibility to the idea that the hunter's strew laura’s corpse around the preserve. they wanted it to be found.

not only would two pieces be less heavy than a whole body but it just shows how they don’t care. laura isn’t a person to them. she’s vermin, she’s subhuman, she’s not worthy of respect. 

she’s no better than bait to other werewolves to them. 

they leave laura to rot.

notice how kate never refers to laura by name instead calling her “your sister” to derek. kate lured derek out with insults towards laura but this one is the greatest of them all. kate is refusing laura hale’s personhood.

the final reason i don’t believe peter tore laura in half is we’ve seen how peter kills. claws from behind are consistent with how he goes at derek at the end of heart monitor and jackson in master plan or throat slashing which we see in the tell with the video store clerk, kate in code breaker and jennifer in lunar eclipse. 

or he mauls them viscerally like we see with the mute in the benefactor.

a creature of habit he calls himself.

in none of peter’s kills either as alpha or as a beta does he tear someone in half.

while peter hale is a dramatic king and doesn’t mind getting his hands bloody, i think he’d be offended if someone accused him of tearing laura in half. 

the mysterious death of laura hale II: why does peter kill laura?

speaking of peter, why did he kill laura?

the obvious answer is for the alpha power so he could fully heal..he says as much in wolf’s bane.

peter: “yes, becoming an alpha, taking that from laura pushed me over a plateau in the healing process.”

but with peter hale nothing is ever so simple. there’s always layers.

in alpha pact, peter gives derek this speech when he’s winding derek up about how to heal cora:

“you know, normal wolves never abandon an injured member of the pack. they care for it. they even bring it food from a kill and then regurgitate it into the mouth of the injured wolf. they even give it physical and emotional comfort by intensely grooming it. in a way they can do more than just ease pain. they can be instrumental in healing their own."

as i mentioned earlier, i think peter not only holds a lot of resentment towards talia for what he perceived as inaction but also towards laura.

after the fire, laura did what cora says in visionary they were taught to do when hunters find them.

cora: "waiting. hiding. that's what we're told to do when the hunters find us. hide and heal."

in all the trauma and grief, laura did the only thing that she could reasonably do in response to such a horrific tragedy. she packed up her little brother who she’d suddenly become the guardian of and put an entire continent between them and beacon hills.

in doing so she left behind peter. i don’t blame her for leaving beacon hills. she was reacting to the threat of the hunters by trying to protect what little was left of her family and herself.

you have to put on your own oxygen mask before you can help others.

however, in leaving peter behind he was left to not only slowly go mad but he was also left vulnerable.

peter may have felt laura not only abandoned him as a member of the pack but abdicated her right to be the alpha.

derek tells scott in riddled:

“my family didn’t just live in beacon hills.they protected it.”

laura left beacon hills unprotected and she left peter alone. 

peter killed laura for the alpha power he always saw as rightfully his so he could heal and do the job he felt talia and laura were both too weak to do. 

while peter killed laura his culpability does come into question. 

in co-captain he performs the memory sharing ritual with scott which gives us a small glimpse of peter’s memories in the moments before laura’s death.

laura enters the scene looking around as if she hears something and then laura calls out his name in question. when peter turns he doesn’t look like a man in control with his eyes rolling, mouth agape. 

his actions look autonomous. peter the man is not at the wheel. 

if we take what peter says in wolf’s bane at face value about how he was being driven by pure instinct then we can surmise that the wolf was in control and acted on impulse and peter’s deepest thoughts and desires. 

the same ones we hear peter raving and ranting at meredith in monstrous. 

vengeance. 

i think the truth seems to be somewhere in the middle. 

peter often downplays his own involvement as a manipulation tactic. so while he lacked inhibition, killing laura for the alpha power was premeditated as we know his nurse was acting on his behalf. i do wonder though if laura’s body hadn’t been severed by hunters would peter have resurrected her? 

what’s a little murder between family members, you know? 

the mysterious death of laura hale III: the conspiracy

there are two conspiracies in season 1.

the conspiracy to kill the hales and the conspiracy to lure laura hale back to beacon hills.

about three months before her death laura was sent the picture of the revenge spiral on the deer which brought her back to beacon hills. to the territory she had left unattended for six years. in pack mentality, derek says that laura came back to beacon hills looking for the alpha and that she told him she was close to figuring something out about the fire. 

luring laura back to beacon hills wasn’t just about killing her. that was the endgame, but first peter needed her to do the leg work in finding the conspirators that set the fire.

the conspiracy itself hinges on one person since peter was still unable to do all of it himself due to him still recovering and we know nothing about her.

nurse jennifer plagues me. her motivations for helping peter were never given. she’s merely a tool to help peter enact his revenge.

all we have are theories and i have found precious few in my searches through old meta.

the most popular theory and i use that word loosely is that she was jennifer blake sowing the seeds for her eventual return to take on the alpha pack. i’ve considered this one and i think a skilled writer could make it work, but within the context we’re given i don’t think so. 

i do believe jennifer blake definitely scouted out beacon hills just as the alpha pack did but i don’t think she and nurse jennifer are one in the same. besides, we do see nurse jennifer’s corpse in code breaker. 

another theory i came across was that she’s a banshee compelled in the same way lydia was by peter. again because we have such little information there’s enough room for it to be possible but i doubt it. 

the conclusion i have come to about nurse jennifer is that she’s someone like dr. fenris and brunski from eichen house. while we do not learn about eichen house until season 3b dr fenris is introduced in wolf’s bane and is in the search for a cure. 

mostly, i think she’s simply a reference to nurse ratched from one flew over the cuckoo’s nest. her nurse's uniform is even anachronistic. 

but what was nurse jennifer’s role in the conspiracy?

she is the one who sent the picture of the deer spiral to laura hale to spur her to come back to beacon hills. nurse jennifer is also the one who sent allison the text to come to the school during night school. like laura, nurse jennifer did a lot of footwork for peter to make his plans work and it’s a damn shame we’ll never know why.

the mysterious death of laura hale iv:  the fixed point

laura’s death is what i think of as a fixed point in the universe of teen wolf. the idea of which is something i shamelessly took from doctor who.

in doctor who a fixed point is considered a lynchpin of the structure of ordered history. they cannot be altered as any attempts to do so would unravel linear time. 

laura hale’s death is that fixed point. it was unavoidable, unpreventable. poor laura hale doomed by the narrative.

in the events surrounding the murder of laura hale there are two more players i haven’t really discussed. they exist on the periphery but are no less important. 

doctor alan deaton and the nemeton.

cora says this in visionary:

"they keep us connected to humanity but they're a secret even within the pack. sometimes only the alpha knows who the emissary is. derek and i had no idea about deaton."

as talia’s successor laura would’ve had to know who their pack’s emissary was.

this is confirmed in fury when deaton not only insults derek to his face but reveals that he made a promise to talia to help her children and derek recalls laura mentioning deaton indirectly as some kind of advisor. 

i say indirectly because if laura had told derek explicitly that deaton was someone who could help and advise than he wouldn’t have suspected him as the alpha in season 1. 

did laura see deaton at all during her time in beacon hills? i would say it’s probable but i get the impression laura played her cards close to her chest. deaton was very unnerved by what was happening and with laura’s death probably concerned for his own wellbeing. 

deaton doesn’t reveal himself to derek because he has no idea if derek’s the one who killed laura or not. there’s no established relationship between the two for trust to go either way. 

truly the greatest villain of teen wolf is miscommunication, but i digress.

now here comes the part where i put on my tin foil conspiracy theory hat. i believe laura was killed near or at the nemeton. 

an unintended and unacknowledged sacrifice.

peter may not have consciously remembered its location, but who's to say it didn’t draw him there. 

we know from jennifer’s speech in the overlooked that the nemeton had a small spark of power from paige’s death. it was enough power to keep her alive after kali left her for dead so it isn’t difficult to believe it could’ve drawn peter to it as well. 

we know gerard knows its location despite what he tells allison about him not remembering. i don’t believe that geriatric bastard anymore than i believe peter as peter is able to find the nemeton easy enough because he shows up to kill jennifer there.

now, i have zero proof of this. it’s all speculation from vibes and what we see in lunar eclipse but considering laura’s body was moved from wherever she originally died and was severed it’s possible. 

it’s easy to imagine a scenario where laura finds peter at the nemeton where he kills her and leaves her body where it fell. later, gerard and his hunters discover her corpse and in frustration and anger at his plan falling through, gerard decides to use laura as bait for either the werewolf that killed her, derek or whatever other werewolves come along. waste not, want not after all. 

either way an alpha’s blood is spilled there giving the nemeton just a little bit more power. 

in lunar eclipse allison, scott and stiles perform a proxy ritual sacrifice to find out the location of the nemeton so they can rescue their parents. it’s successful, but only because the nemeton allows them to know its location. 

in revealing itself to them it chooses them as its champions and.it’s magic takes them back to the night scott was bitten, to the fixed point in the teen wolf universe. 

laura hale’s death.

haunting the narrative: laura hale’s uneasy ghost

“and so, the woman dies. the woman dies so the man can be sad about it. the woman dies so the man can suffer. she dies to give him a destiny. dies so he can fall to the dark side. dies so he can lament her death. as he stands there, brimming with grief, brimming with life, the woman lies there in silence.”

by aoko matsuda, translated by polly barton

once the first season comes to a close and laura hale’s murder is solved she is no longer mentioned save a few precious times, but the ghost of laura lingers. 

laura haunts the narrative.

derek has forgiven many transgressions against himself and his person but he will never forgive peter for laura’s murder. her death underscores every single one of their interactions.

laura’s the specter that hangs between cora and derek. cora loses her sister twice and derek’s words “sorry to disappoint you” only speak to how he feels he cannot live up to the ghost of not only his mother but also laura.

this, however, is not the only way laura remains in the narrative. they allude to her in other ways. 

in anchors scott reprises the scene from wolf moon where he tells stiles they’re going to go out into the woods to find a dead body but in a reverse uno of wolf moon though, scott is able to save the naked hale girl in the woods and bring her back to her family.

at the beginning of party guessed, lydia has one of her banshee visions. if you pay attention you can catch a girl in the bleachers that doesn’t quite belong. in fact, she’s crying out distressed and frightened.

that girl is laura hale. 

while uncredited the actress looks a lot like haley roe murphy who played laura in the first season and the necklace around her neck has a red pendant that alludes to her alpha status.

lydia sees an echo of laura hale as a warning.

i like this shot in second chance at first line when scott is at the morgue. he pulls out the drawer containing laura's lower half and the pov for the shot is almost like laura is watching despite her upper half not being there.

the very last time we see laura’s body is after stiles and scott dig it up. 

from this new perspective, laura’s stare has gone from vacant to accusatory.

it’s a jump scare, the transition from laura as a wolf to laura as human. it’s meant to freak stiles and scott out and confuse them. 

what it’s always said to me though is how dare you.

whether or not it was intentional (and let’s be real this is teen wolf so it’s probably half and half if we’re being generous)  the murder of laura remains one of the most intriguing incidents on teen wolf and her being one of the most untapped characters.

i said earlier i wanted to know what laura knew before her death. what had she uncovered about the fire? had she learned about cora being alive? did she know about kate and derek?

the answer is that it doesn’t matter. It no longer matters because laura died. we can never know what she knew. 

in teen wolf it doesn’t matter because laura is a non-character while being the most important character of them all.

laura hale is the beautiful dead girl.

she is the inciting incident, the fixed point, the name unsaid and the spirit unexercised.

“an anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died so young-- a dirge for her the doubly dead in that she died so young.”  lenore by edgar allen poe

[burningvelvet]

Mary Shelley’s Lake Geneva diary from August 2nd, 1816…

“Friday, August 2. — I go to the town with Shelley, to buy a telescope for his birthday present. In the evening Lord Byron and he go out in the boat, and, after their return, Shelley and Clare go up to Diodati; I do not, for Lord Byron did not seem to wish it. Shelley returns with a letter from Longdill, which requires his return to England. This puts us in bad spirits. I read Rêveries and Adèle et Théodore de Madame de Genlis, and Shelley reads Pliny’s Letters.”

This was the day that Percy, Claire, and Byron discussed Claire’s pregnancy and what they were going to do about custody rights. Shelley had already known about Claire’s pregnancy for at least a month and was most likely the first to know, since after he and Byron almost drowned on June 25th he had secretly written a will that left sums to Claire and any person of her choice — her name being near the top of the list along with Mary, his wife Harriet, and all his children. Considering that Byron later believed the Hoppner Scandal (unconfirmed rumours that Claire had a secret child with Percy which was given for adoption or aborted) — and that historians believe Claire and Shelley were probably sexually involved at various periods — some people believe that the paternity of the child was called into question. Claire’s identity as the child’s mother would be hidden from the public to protect her reputation, and Byron and Shelley both accepted responsibility for the child (though Shelley was arguably more attached), although everyone agreed that the child (Allegra) looked and acted like Byron, and was therefore his.

Byron in a letter to his sister about Claire and the rumours surrounding his time at Geneva:

“. . . as to all these ‘mistresses’ — Lord help me — I have had but one. Now don't scold — but what could I do? A foolish girl, in spite of all I could say or do, would come after me, or rather went before, for I found her here, and I have had all the plague possible to persuade her to go back again, but at last she went. Now, dearest, I do most truly tell thee that I could not help this, that I did all I could to prevent it, and have at last put an end to it. I was not in love nor have any love left for any, but I could not exactly play the Stoic with a woman who had scrambled eight hundred miles to un-philosophize me, besides I had been regaled of late with so many ‘two courses and a dessert’ (Alas!) of aversion, that I was fain to take a little love (if pressed particularly) by way of novelty. And now you know all that I know of the matter, & it's over.”

A decade later, Claire Clairmont wrote to Jane Williams:

“What would I not give to have an unhappy passion, for then one has full permission and a perfect excuse to fall into a happy one; one has something to expect, but a happy passion, like death, has finis written in such large characters in its face there is no hoping for any possibility of a change. You will allow me to talk upon this subject, for I am unhappily the victim of a happy passion. I had one; like all things perfect in its kind, it was fleeting, and mine only lasted ten minutes, but these ten minutes have discomposed the rest of my life.

The passion, God knows for what cause, from no faults of mine, however, disappeared, leaving no trace whatever behind it except my heart wasted and ruined as if it had been scorched by a thousand lightnings.“

Sadly, Allegra Byron died at the age of five due to a sudden outbreak of typhus in Romagna where Byron had enrolled her in a private convent school. This was a betrayal to Claire, as they had promised each other that Allegra should never be apart from one of her parents, due to Claire’s prediction that something terrible would happen if so. However, Byron argued that having a good Italian-Catholic education would give Allegra higher marriage prospects in Italy than any education she could have in England, partly due to her illegitimacy and partly due to the tarnished reputations of the Byron/Shelley/Godwin households, among other reasons. Claire blamed Byron for Allegra’s death, and she felt that while Shelley sympathized more with her, Mary sympathized more with Byron. Three months later, Shelley followed Allegra to the grave, and the already fragmented social circle would further break apart.

[thesweetnessofspring]

okay so since you've liked my post about the fake fic tag game, as my fav author of an on going fic, I shall bestow you with these tags: regency!everlark, bestfriend's brother!peeta (maybe madge's?), slowburn, suppressed tension, ball of the season just because i'm intrigued how you'll write some regency era with your creative writing style. Love ya!

Oh thank you, that is so sweet! And I love Regency!Everlark so this is fun! I did take a little bit of liberty with the best friend's brother, but given the language they used back in the Regency era, Madge would still call him her brother. And for those of you who don't know yet, this is from the fake fic ask game.

Title

Summary: At twenty-two years old and with no prospects, Katniss Everdeen's life is going the way of the governess, though she far prefers that work to marrying a gambler, cheater, or bore. Her dearest friend Madge Mellark, however, is certain that if Katniss comes with Madge and her husband to Town, that she can find her a match before Caesar Flickerman's end of the season ball. Katniss agrees to go to prove everyone--her friend, her sister, her mother--that there is no one who could tempt her to marriage. In Town, Katniss is not the only one Madge is helping search for a spouse. Madge's brother-in-law, Peeta, is finished with university and tasked by his mother to find a rich heiress to supplement the income of a second son or else be cut off from his inheritance entirely. Together, they enter a pact to protect one another from horrendous matches and obtain information about their prospects. Only when Peeta meets Glimmer Fairchild, a rich heiress with seemingly no flaw, does Katniss begin to realize that there is one man whom she could accept as a husband, but he could never accept her.

Excerpt:

Mr. Peeta Mellark stepped in front of Katniss, his stocky build blocking her slight one from the sight of Mr. Cato Thompson. She waited as still as possible until he continued past them, into the crowds of others at the assembly hall.

"This shall be the last dance of the evening, so you have successfully avoided Mr. Thompson," Peeta said. "I expect that in your diary tonight, you might properly credit me with the role of a wall you took vigil behind."

"Suppose I do not keep a diary?" Katniss asked, a challenging eyebrow raised up.

"Then in your letter to your dear sister," Peeta said. "For the way you speak of her, you must be writing her daily."

"I should, if your sister did not keep potential suitors in the drawing room all morning."

"Now that I am returned, we shall be sharing her attention on that matter," Peeta said. "So I am certain you shall have time to tell your sister of my usefulness to you."

Katniss observed Peeta and his somber expression at the turn of his mentioning the pursuit of a wife. She knew her disagreeable nature made the prospect of matrimony far from compelling, but what had he to fear? If he could speak with her all evening, then he could be happy with nearly any woman there was.

"The bonds of marriage coming on you too swift from the university?" Katniss asked.

"I have not ever feared that," Peeta said. "Except that my mother has in mind the sort of woman I am to marry, and our opinions on the matter do not match."

"Then I shall be your wall, as you are mine," Katniss cried. Then she looked down at her figure that had been called sickly more than once and and said, "Or, perhaps a fence will do?"

Peeta laughed. "Though your figure is small, you are stronger than any fortress, and I am grateful to your protection."

[rokirokiro]

Love Declaration Imp♡ct

Kaedehara Kazuha. A man that I believe is a carefree man who believes everything happened within a reason. even the simplest things as brewing one's tea out off willingness considers as endearing in his eyes. he appreciates tiny details, and would return the same. he thinks more than he talks, but whenever he does, 'flowers comes out instead of words'.

♡!

I say he's the bashful type when it comes to confessing his feelings. True, he might be bold with his words, but how could one be honest and directly say those simple yet powerful three words without stumbling upon each letters and embarrasses oneself? He can't, especially when you looked at him with those eyes, those lovely eyes he dared to exclaim that he'd stare for hours. those charming pairs that he wished to be his, as well as your soul. oh how he wished to be yours, and you to be his.

he made days of silent planning on how to let you know the content of his heart, spending days on thinking about the perfect confession he could offer to you as he goes on a little adventure with Beidou's crew, listening to the music of the oceans and waves splashing to the wooden ship.

But the nature tolds him, (or which he concluded),

that it needn't to be Perfect.

it just need to be true.

it just need his heart to pour onto.

it just need to be exactly what he thought.

And so,

he picked up a quill, dripping the tip on the dark night ink and began writing. a poem, a love confession. whatever it's called to inform someone about the availability of their heart to the other.

The nature also concluded,

that he needed to pour his entire heart onto the very piece of papyrus, which would change the two souls relationship forever. every alphabets sealed a piece of his heart onto them, and a misfortune result would break him entirely.

he's aware of the risk.

yet love need sacrifices.

. . . . . . . .

and when it finally reached your hands and eyes, it also reached your heart too.

◌⑅⃝●♡⋆♡LETTER♡⋆♡●⑅◌

To my dearest darling,

I'm in love with you. I aware that these words shouldn't be written on the very beginning of the letter, but I apologize for the spoil. As I can barely hang on anymore. I can't keep these feelings anymore that I really had to just write them down so quickly, so please consider thinking this letter as the summary of the diary of my heart. I've been wanting to tell you, no, desperately wanting to tell you that I'm in love with you, my angel. Love feels like an understatement, as I'd give you my whole, just like how you did. your smile alone becomes the sole reason of my gleeful days, the sweet soft redness adorning your cheeks is so adorable. you never stop making me fall in love like the first time again and again, lovely. you just never realized it, because you've been the sweetest since the very beginning and blinded from your own charms. and I'm violently attracted to you.

I love you, yesterday, today, tomorrow and to the eternity. I love you, I love you for eternity, I'm just so in love, I love you so so much. I love you, I am so in love, I want this feeling to never stop.

I love you, I love you, I love you..

(♡˙︶˙♡)

he just can't stop writing the three words. as if a force of nature just moved his hand to paint the letter with the dark ink, declaring his love oh so passionately. you'd notice parts of the paper have some tears stains too, he was probably so emotional as he writes this.

<♡~What do you think?~♡>