The giant house off the back road appeared to be the perfect place for Erik to pull over and wait out the storm, but the dark, untouched rooms inside seem to multiply as he wanders through them and the air is heavy with dread.

He doesn't believe in ghosts, but something wants him to leave just as strongly as something else wants him to stay.

Titanic!Au. The man in the picture was beautiful, with gentle features and eyes of the brightest blue. They matched the necklace he wore; a necklace worth a quarter of a billion dollars, romantically dubbed The Heart of the Ocean. The artist's initials were penciled in at the edge of the page, a simple EL. They had met on a ship of dreams.

This is the smallest comfort he has left to offer – reaching inside Erik’s mind, switching off the nerve connections that cause him pain, one by one, like switching off the lights inside his home for the last time.

And despite his scrubs, Erik can feel the tiny jolt from Charles' fingers. It travels through his bones to his brain like the spark lighting gas in a lighter -– skittering, fragile and so easily put out.
Risky, reckless and doomed.

Erik works at the Mutant Ward at the local hospital. Charles is a nineteen-year-old telepath with a brain tumor.

The trade was simple. For every life made, there must be one given.
For the life of the heir that Arthur desired –
There never had been any doubt in Merlin’s mind. He had known from the beginning how this would end.

"Merlin, I-" Arthur struggled with what to say. No amount of fore thought could have prepared him for the present situation.

“You what, Arthur? You're sorry you let me burn? You're sorry you were so pathetically under your father's thumb? It doesn't matter anymore. We're in another lifetime - one where you can't hurt me any longer. Just leave me alone." Merlin shouted. He twisted his arm out of Arthur grasp and ran.

And if you are ashamed, humiliated, that you were once the confidant and lover of the Dark terror of the century—well, I must get my revenge somehow. Go teach your children, eat your candy, preen your bird and bury me. But we were brilliant together, Albus, and not even you can change history.

And the words come out then, slowly, as if Merlin has to pick and choose between them as one would sift through fruit in a stall at market. How they are soulmates [...]. How Merlin waited, and waited, for Arthur to accept the connection – or failing that, to send him into the fevered wasteland of bond sickness with a rejection. How over the years even that limbo was enough to sustain him.

How, when Arthur was wounded, Merlin sacrificed the bond – "It wasn't real, anyway," Merlin says, so casual Arthur is horrified. "How can it be real when it is only one half?"

How Merlin's sacrifice saved Arthur's life.

Arthur turned around, stomach churning at the thought of living the rest of his life without Merlin by his side. Merlin was his constant, his steady presence forever a guiding light.

And now he was gone.

It is the 57th annual Hunger Games, and Merlin Emrys stands at the Reaping ceremony with Guinevere Smith at his side, unable to hear the roar of the crowd over the ringing in his own ears. Because Merlin is about to face his best friend and twenty-two strangers in a fight to the death, where there can only be one victor.

In a twisted game where death seems the only certainty, Merlin will find himself tested in ways no one could have ever predicted - and may even find himself fighting for more than just his own life as he enters into an unlikely alliance with Arthur Pendragon, the Career tribute poised to win it all.

Merlin can see dead people, and Arthur's just indirectly invited the entire spirit world. To think, people said this party was going to be boring.

When Merlin uses magic to save Arthur’s life, he is condemned to death, and Arthur is too late to save him. But when the grief-stricken prince, along with Morgana and Gwen, journeys to Ealdor to return Merlin’s ashes, a series of strange events leads them to believe the warlock may not be as dead as they thought.

History repeats itself. Arthur and his Queen cannot have children, so they seek their answers in magic.
They trade a life for a life. The Queen is ready and willing to make this sacrifice for the future of Camelot. But magic never weaves straight.

Merlin was not a sacrifice Arthur had been willing to make.

Arthur believed Dragoon had killed his father, and so he plunged his sword deep into the sorcerer. Now Merlin was dying in his arms and Arthur was facing the future alone.

Everybody is born with two numbers on their backs: one counts down to a beginning, the other to an end.

7-year-old Arthur Pendragon is dying of an illness not even the court physician can combat, whilst outside of the castle walls a small raven-haired boy is unknowingly running to save his life.

An AU of 4x07 in which Agravaine successfully kills Gaius.

Merlin was executed at dawn.
It was more impressive that way. Executions by fire were almost always carried out at dawn or dusk, when it was dark enough for the fire to attract all the attention, but light enough to see if the prisoner attempted something. And Arthur had known almost immediately that he would see Merlin die by fire. A slow burn, drawn-out and painful, just as his years of lies had been.

“Who is he? What's his first name?”
Gustav's eyes darted back and forth, as if he were afraid of being overheard, and he leaned in to whisper in Tom's ear as if delivering dangerous, top- secret government information. “Bill.”
“Bill?”
“Shut up! Only people in his group are allowed to call him by his first name! You don't want it getting back to him that you broke the rules, trust me!”
Tom blinked, eyebrows raised even more than they had been a minute ago. Apparently this school was more interesting than he had first thought...

The world ends on a bright and sunny Tuesday afternoon around two.

Fic o śmierci i szaleństwie, angst aż do mdłości. W celu załamania się czytać w tandemie z "Alive" z fandomu TH.

For Tom it isn't easy watching his brother withering away, getting weaker by the minute but as the devoted brother he is, he is doing everything to keep Bill happy in his final days, even if it means breaking boundaries he had never considered before. Follows Tom in the last days up to and after Bill's death. --> Fic o śmierci i szaleństwie. Angst, który doprowadza do mdłości, pięknie napisany koszmar. Drugi raz go nie przeczytam, ale zakładka niech zostanie...

To prawda, że czarodzieje zazwyczaj nie umierają młodo. Ale czarodziejskie ciało też ma swoją wytrzymałość.

I don’t know how to tell them. I don’t have the heart to tell them. How do I let them know that I can feel you, and I can tell that you’re not in there anymore.

Everything changes when there's nothing left to hold you back.

Pewnego dnia na Wyspie Błogosławionych, wiele lat po tym, jak zniszczył ją ogień, stal i gniew, niespodziewanie znów wyrasta drzewo. M/A, AU do finału pierwszego sezonu.

— Giles. — Odchrząknięcie. — Czy on robi to, co ja myślę, że robi?

— Tak właśnie sądzę, Tony — powiedział Giles, za pomocą pilota zatrzymując taśmę na klatce, na której facet w skórze, na kolanach wśród potrzaskanych butelek, wkładał sobie lufę pod brodę. — I pewnie by to zrobił, gdyby nie odleciał z upływu krwi. Ale tak, myślę, że chciał się zastrzelić.

Sam should have put it together; he should have seen a pattern.

He should have paid attention.

Sam should have pulled his head out of his selfish ass and, for once, given a thought for Dean.

But he hadn't; and like so many times before, Sam's selfishness had broken his brother. But this time, Sam knew, there was no coming back.

Dean didn't want to come back.

One year ago, Jared lost his husband in an act of senseless violence. Stricken with grief, Jared has withdrawn from society and become reclusive, his only human interaction coming from his foster brother Chad, his florist friend Misha, and the occasional grocery store cashier – that is, when Chad can convince him to leave his apartment. If that wasn’t bad enough, now he’s being haunted by the ghost of his deceased husband, and Misha is the only one who seems to believe him – even if Misha's theories and superstitions make him a little, well, eccentric.

Jensen, on the other hand, is finally free of his own unhealthy relationship. Too bad being one half of the couple known as Jen-Jen drove him completely bat-shit crazy. And he is, if the disembodied voice that only he can hear and strange dreams are any indication. After all, Jensen is ninety-nine percent sure he’s not a ghost, and he’s never been married to anyone named Jared, either.

This is a story about unlikely connections, second chances at love, and giving in and letting yourself be just a little bit crazy..

Fads are funny things. They're unpredictable, stupid, and pass quickly—most forgotten as soon as the next one shows up. Those concerning parenting are the funniest and usually the most pointless. Today it's organic diets and genderless baby names. Yesterday it was Mozart, trying to make babies smarter before they'd even graduated to solid foods. Twenty three years ago in Texas, it was betrothals. Yeah, that's right, parents planning their children's marriages before they could talk and object to the pointless ritual.