Apothecary Diaries Fanfic Novels & Stories

He spoke with quiet conviction, then turned to take his leave, but not before casting a fleeting glance at Ragaleon. The Apothecarium smelled sharply of herbs and smoke, a pungent, earthy scent that clung to every corner. Shelves lined the walls, sagging slightly under the weight of glass bottles and jars, each filled with liquids of every imaginable hue—murky greys, deep ambers, and translucent greens that seemed to glow faintly in the candlelight. In the center of the room, a large cauldron simmered over a bed of smoldering charcoal, bubbles rising and bursting in the thick, dark herbal mixture. Wisps of steam curled upward, carrying the bitter aroma of roots, dried leaves, and crushed bar

And there he was, Xavier, hoisting her up on his shoulders in her graduation gown, refusing to let her down. Her, clinging to his hair, half-laughing, half-scolding, "I like you, I like you, okay? Xavier, you're so boring!" Xavier, spinning her around, his laughter echoing under the camphor trees. Her screams of joy mixed with his. And then there was the diary. Tucked away in my office drawer. Filled with her thoughts, her dreams. And I, the man who supposedly mattered, wasn't even the protagonist. Yet, like a masochist, I’d memorized every single word.

Its cracked spine bore a date in faded silver ink: 2029 – Spring Semester. My heart thudded. 2029. The year before I arrived. Fingers trembling, I pulled it out and flipped it open. Pages of potion inventories, ingredient lists, enchanted brewing instructions. My eyes scanned desperately until a name leapt at me from a crinkled page margin: Mira Blackwood. My breath caught. Scribbled notes surrounded her name – dosage adjustments, resilience thresholds, something about moonwater dilution. I flipped the page but before I could read further, harsh white light flooded the vault. I squinted up, tears spilling freely.

He was handsome beyond reasonable doubt, and I envied the woman who would get to call him hers. “You asked for me?” I asked, doing my best to sound unaffected by his presence. He nodded and then beckoned me closer. I strode to his desk and he pointed at a green worn-out diary. “As promised,” he said simply. “The past born healer’s diary,” I said in awe, as if it held all the answers already. I reached out a hand and took it cautiously. It was rather thin. “The first of many,” he said softly while looking at me. “Once you finish it, come find me and I’ll give you the next one.”

Darius pointed toward the back alcove. “The oldest records are there. I will watch the entrance.” I moved quickly, pulling heavy books from the shelves and opening them on the nearest table. Rowan stayed close, close enough that I could feel the steady pulse of his heartbeat through the bond. It kept my own thoughts from spinning too far. The first was written in the thick purple ink of the old royal healers. Yellowed pages were filled with columns of names, dates, and short notes. I traced the lines with one finger.

, don’t make me lose respect for you!" I turned to leave, but then remembered my diary was still in his possession. I coldly added, "Give me back my diary!" "It's in my room. Want to come with me to get it?" "Forget it. It’s easy to misunderstand when a man and a woman are alone together. I’ll wait for you in the lobby." I pressed the elevator button and quickly disappeared from Dominic’s sight in my high heels. He looked up and caught a glimpse of the cut on his lip in the reflection of a shop window, chuckling softly to himself. Sure, I was a bit wild lately, but I was a lot more interesting than before, wasn’t I? Once back in his room, Dominic Blackwood quickly pulled out the thick notebo

He cleared his throat dramatically and started reading from his phone. “‘I can’t get enough of them. Caspian fucks me so deep I forget how to breathe. Luka’s tongue on my clit makes me shake until I can’t see straight. And Asher… God, when he takes me from behind I feel completely owned. Sometimes I wonder if I’m addicted to them. If I’m becoming someone I don’t even recognize.’” Oh my God, my diary, the words I’d poured out in the safety of my own room now broadcast for the entire school.

I opened it, and my eyes widened as I saw a collection of diaries and pictures. The diaries were old, the pages yellowed with age. I began to read, and what I found shocked me. The diaries were old, the pages yellowed with age. I began to read, and what I found shocked me. The diaries belonged to Seth, and they told a story of Seth and Vee on the run from the warlocks.

The air smelled of old leather, dust, and aged vellum. I moved quietly, flashlight from my phone casting narrow beams across labeled boxes until I found it: a heavy oak cabinet marked “Voss – Private.” Inside lay a leather-bound journal, its cover embossed with his initials. My fingers trembled as I opened it. Page after page was filled with his precise, elegant handwriting — but not dry academic notes. These were fantasies. Explicit, obsessive entries dated over the last few months, all centered on “the new intern.” “She arches so beautifully when she thinks no one is watching. I want to bind her in the east wing until she begs with tears in her eyes. I want to fill her until my seed takes

he flipped again, multiple pages this time. “15/10/98 Dear Diary, I met this guy, I love… his name is Jade, Jade Ogr---” tears rolled down my eyes, he wasn’t letting me ready anything. “12/12/2000 Dear Diary, I’m blessed with a baby girl, a daughter, she’ll call me mom---” “Fuck you, let me see it…” it wasn’t forged at all, and even if it was, I didn’t want to believe otherwise. My eyes shedding tears, as many as possible, he closes it right in front of my eyes. “Do you… still not want it?”