Fleur

After season 2 of Wednesday, I suddenly feel the urge to write a Nevermore fanfic. 
          The concept of a school of outcasts is just so gooddd 
          
          (Nothing written, I’ve no story idea)

To anyone struggling with Mental Health, be adviced, Ancestors pt. 3 of Remember Mary can be triggering to some! (Panic, Selfharm & PTSD)
          
          Be sure to take a break from reading if you feel like you need one! 
          It was a hard chapter to write for me. So I can imagine reading it can be tough as well. But, perhaps it can give others who are fighting a similair battle as me the feeling that they are not alone in this. Mental Illness is not 'something to spice up a story'. I started writing this story for a reason. And although it covers some very painful subjects, writing this story has genuinly helped me. And perhaps it will help others as well who read it.

If you’re wondering if I’ve given up on Remember Mary — I have not! 
           Next chapter is just a long one 
          And Juliette’s story requires some history research  since I’m not American. 

Taking care of my health atm, hence no new chapters. Thank you for being interested in Bloody Mary/ Remember Mary. I promise, I WILL continue the story! 
          Just taking care of me first! 

Slow updates, but my health has improved!

Little busy this week! Still need to edit the next chapter. I’ll post most likely at the end of the week! 

30th of April… 30th of April… 30th of April… let’s go back to New Orleans on the 30th of April! 
          
          (In other words, Remember Mary will start soon!) 

Hi I love ur writing and jasper hale fanfics when will u update remembering Mary xoxo
          

I loved bloody mary and so excited for the following chapters! 

Get ready, as this weekend the final chapters of Bloody Mary will go live! 
          Friday, Saturday and Sunday a new chapter! 
          
          Preview: 
          The room stretched around her—vast and eerily silent. The polished wooden floor reflected the pale glow of the moonlight filtering through the towering windows. Too many windows. The walls were lined with mirrors, their surfaces warped in the darkness, reflecting nothing but shifting shadows.
          
          A ballet studio.
          
          Her stomach twisted. She had never been in a ballet studio before.
          
          How did she get here?
          
          She swallowed, trying to recall—her brothers, the storm, Victoria.
          
          Victoria.