It is said that the woods behind Storybrooke are haunted by the ghost of two lovers, a pirate and a princess.

Their story is long, full of tales of daring and adventure, beanstalks and witches but the tale of their death is the one we tell for today is the day on which, many years ago, the princess fell. The town was set upon by a terrible evil and the people pulled together to fight, just as they always had and the princess led them, just as she always did. They fought long and hard but the power of the town appeared to be no match for the demon. It fell upon the princess to devise a way to save her home and the only way she could think of was to use all of her magic. The pirate protested, as did the king and queen for the only way all the magic of a soul could be harnessed was if the soul left their body.

The princess insisted. They did not agree. The pirate held her and kissed her and asked for her to stay if she loved him. She kissed him and told him that she had to do this because she loved him.

She succeeded and the great evil was defeated. But, the princess fell that day and the pirate held her close to his chest and wept for hours for his only true love was gone from him. He lived many years in mourning, longing for the sight of his beautiful princess once more. He left this world in his sleep, loving her till his very last breath.

Now they are together, here where they loved and lived. They relive the days in which they were happy and long for the days that were stolen from them. So be wary if you ever come upon them, for they will never let anybody take them from each other ever again.

Halloween Drabble: With Our Name on the Mail Slots

Brittany and Santana’s apartment complex houses mostly young, childless tenants, but there area few families with babies and toddlers.

So far, Brittany and Santana have doled out candy to a handful of little boys in Superman pajamas and boxy Captain America uniforms, some sleeping infants dressed as pea pods and pumpkins, and a tiny clown who couldn’t stop crying despite his smiling face-paint.

It is only six o’clock, and the trick-or-treating traffic has already begun to slow down for the night.

"By this rate, it’ll be over in like an hour, and we’ll still have most of our candy left over," Santana grouses, giving the bowl a dull shake, shifting its contents, before setting both it and herself down on the counter.

"You act like that’s a bad thing," Brittany says brightly, unwrapping a mini Snickers and popping it in her mouth. She smiles and hops up on the counter herself, leaning over to give Santana a kiss on the cheek. "Mercedes’ party starts at nine, so it’ll work out perfect."

Santana softens at Brittany’s kiss but can’t give up fretting so easily. “Yeah, but then we’ll have two extra hours to fill,” she complains.

Brittany smiles more wickedly this time. “You act like that’s a bad thing,” she says, trailing her fingers up Santana’s thigh.


Just then, the doorbell rings, and Santana starts as Brittany snatches the candy bowl from the counter and jumps up to answer the door.

"Trick-or-treat!" shouts a little girl dressed as Elsa from Frozen. Her younger sister, dressed as Anna, sucks her thumb and remains silent at her side. Their mother stands just behind them, not wearing a costume. Santana knows the family by sight; they sometimes pass each other on the steps and downstairs by the mail slots.

Brittany gasps as she crouches down to offer the little girls their picks from the candy bowl. “Oh my goodness!” she says, totally earnest. “What beautiful princesses!”

The little girl dressed as Elsa quickly corrects her. “I’m not a princess! I’m a queen!” she protests, as self-assured as a kindergarten-aged Rachel Berry. She starts to rustle through the candy to see what selection there is.

Santana unseats herself from the counter and comes over to stand at Brittany’s back. She sees Brittany’s shoulders quake as Brittany stifles a laugh. Brittany puts on her most formal tone. “My apologies, Your Majesty,” she says, bowing slightly in obeisance, and Santana’s heart squeezes in her chest.

Brittany is so good with kids.

The little girl dressed as Elsa takes a packet of Twix. She nods, indicating that Brittany’s contrition is sufficient, and steps back to allow her sister a better look at the bowl. The girls’ mother stoops to help her younger daughter pick out some Starbursts.

"What do you say for the treats?" she prompts, nudging Queen Elsa and Princess Anna from behind.

"Thank you, Mrs. and Mrs.—uh, what’s your last name again?" Queen Elsa says, totally innocent.

And, okay, maybe Santana shouldn’t get a little teary at the question, but she does, just a bit. She and Brittany aren’t married—not yet—but the fact that one of their neighbors—even a tiny neighbor—who they don’t really know, thinks that they could be—that they are—causes something to catch in her throat.

"Pierce," she says quickly, before she starts crying.

"Lopez," Brittany says at the same time.

For a split second, a look of confusion passes over Queen Elsa’s face, and Santana frets that maybe the little girl’s mom might say something untoward, but then the look dissipates. “Thank you Mrs. and Mrs. Pierce-Lopez!” Queen Elsa all but shouts, and Princess Anna mumbles something similar around her thumb.

Their mother nods her agreement and begins shepherding them to the next door down the hall. Brittany shuts the door after them.

"That was—," Santana starts.

"—awesome," Brittany finishes. Her mouth hangs open, her expression somewhere between mirth and thoughtfulness, and she leans backwards against the door, setting the bowl on the arm of the couch to her side.

"Do you think their mom told them we’re married?" Santana ventures.

Brittany shrugs. “I dunno,” she says. “Little kids are pretty smart, though. They pick up on stuff.”

And in the next second, she grabs Santana by the wrist, pulling Santana into a bruising kiss. Her arms wrap around Santana’s waist, and their bodies run flush against each other. Joy thrums through Santana’s whole body like a chord. She hums into Brittany’s mouth.

"Two hours, huh?" she laughs as their lips pop apart.

"Two hours," Brittany repeats. Then, "Happy Halloween."

ziggy stardust of the night—Kurt reuses an audition getup for a Halloween costume party, hoping to go unnoticed by an ex due to his partial mask. When his plan starts to collapse, he turns to a colorful stranger for help.

a/n: happy Halloween!

"You can’t mope around on Halloween, Kurt, especially not when it’s Halloween in New York City on a Friday night!"

"Watch me."

Kurt had almost maintained the upper hand in his conversation with Rachel, but lost it as soon as she pulled the ‘I need someone to walk home with me and you live with me’ card. Which, really, is not a point he wants to ignore. The city on Halloween is even more dangerously unpredictable than usual, and he doesn’t personally know anyone at this party, therefore rendering him unable to trust anyone else to walk Rachel home afterwards.

Well… that’s not quite true. He knows one person at this party, and he dreads the idea of running into him. 

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Chapters: 32/32
Fandom: Sherlock
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: John/Sherlock
Characters: John Watson, Sherlock Holmes
Series: Part 1 of What to Do

Sherlock takes Molly’s advice when dealing with his dangerous flatmate.

I literally haven’t even finished the first chapter and I’m already reccing this. I am cracking up. Here is an excerpt:

John says we are not boyfriends and that he doesn’t have time to explain why not to a man who is suppose to be a genius. I have retreated with dignity to my bedroom, barricading the door with a pillow and a book. If John wants to get in here, he can, but he will have to push harder. If he cares at all he will push.


Sooooooo… this was not supposed to be 3.5k and smutty, but alas, it is! Happy Halloween! Stay safe! Don’t drink and drive! Don’t eat strange candy! And let me know what you think!

Sugar on the Asphalt & Tennessee Teacakes

(Grace’s costumes: 1 & 2)


Harry Styles didn’t go trick-or-treating. He didn’t pass out Halloween candy. And he most certainly didn’t dress up. He was more than content laying on his couch with a Chinese takeaway and the remote, watching some indie horror film that didn’t even make him flinch. However, it was better than the alternative, which was parading around the streets of Hampstead with his girlfriend and the three children she nannied.

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Tomrrow is Halloween and you know what I love doing during this season? Curling up to read some fun WEREWOLVES AND VAMPIRES AND DEMONS AND CREEPY SHIT, so give me all the supernatural themed fics, because that stuff is so much fun during this holiday!

Around the Fire by Vera (Vera_DragonMuse), thor/loki, supernatural au, some violence, 6k

“I’ve heard that one of them is big as a bear and twice as nasty while the other is as thin as rail half-used up by his own magic.”

demon summoner au (part 1) [ mobile ver. ] + demon summoner au (part 2) [ mobile ver. ] + demon summoner au (part 3) by rayemars [ mobile ver. ], thor/loki, nsfw, demon au, dub-con, 23.5k wip

"How laughable when we both know you have the very same tainted blood running through your veins."

30 Day OTP Porn Challenge - 3. Body fluids by amberfox17 [ mobile ver. ], thor/loki, NSFW, werewolf!thor + human!loki AU, dub-con, 2k

Loki idly runs his hand along the cool bars of the cell, tapping out an uneven rhythm as his rings catch against the steel. Thor’s vacant eyes do not track the movement, but his head turns as Loki moves, nostrils flaring as he inhales Loki’s scent.

we can’t breathe when we come around by lazulisong, thor/loki, vampire divergent timeline fic, 1k

Loki leaned forward, steepling his hands. “Allow me to clarify, Captain,” he said. “You have allowed my brother, a prince of Asgard, to be … infected … by a creature not unlike your Midgardian leech, and he now requires the blood of others to survive?”

Who Needs You by thisdorkyficthing, thor/loki, mildly nsfw, vampire au, 2.6k

"No, seriously, when did that happen during our casual fucking? Was I asleep?"

50 Thirst Dates by thisdorkyficthing, thor/loki + tony stark, maybe a smidge nsfw, vampire!au, crossover, 3.2k

"Yeah. But this is different. This is a date. Before this we have been just fucking." Tony snorted behind him. "Yeah, he’s gonna buy you food or something before he fucks you. So different." Loki turned around to face Tony. "No. Just fucking is just fucking. A date is the start of something that involves fucking, but is more than that. See? Different."

Permission by Canute, thor/loki, vampire!loki, 1.9k

"Let me in," requests the vampire perched outside the window.

Bitten by Wingstar102, thor/loki, nsfw, vampire themes, ~1k

Loki is always more than happy to oblige…

30 Day OTP Challenge - Day 7: Cosplaying by cuervonegro [ mobile ver. ], thor/loki, nsfw + nsfw artwork, crossdressing, werewolf!thor, ~1k

‘Are you serious?! I am not wearing that!’

the moon is burning by jellyfish, thor/loki, NSFW, werewolf!thor + vampire!loki, knotting, bonding, some blood drinking, 8.9k

Despite the fact that their families have been enemies for generations, Thor and Loki are mates. However, they aren’t bonded yet. Thor wants them to complete the bond but things can never be that simple with Loki.

Close to You by thisdorkyficthing, thor/loki, NSFW, vampires, true blood fusion, fluff, blood drinking, 2.3k

This was the ugliest fucking bouquet Loki had ever laid his eyes on.

Small town secrets by grimmie_me, thor & loki & family, human au, werewolf au, 8.8k

The Odinssons move into the small town of Asgard. Only Thor is seen regularly as his brother supposedly suffers from an auto-immune disease that keeps him inside at all times with his mother to take care of him.

Shaduw Wereld by Theta2Serpentis, thor & loki + other asgardians, creepy, lovecraftian horror, 48.9k

AU. When no one comes to their rescue on Jötunheimr, Loki is forced to lead Thor, Sif, Hogun, Volstagg and Fandral through his secret paths between worlds.

full details + recs under the cut!

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anonymous said:

Happy Halloween Carrie! I was wondering if you had any recs for sterek when one them dies but comes back to life?

  • Won’t Do Me No Good Washing In The River by DevilDoll (M, 6k) "Remember, Derek: you never get back what you lost." 
  • Spook: A Ghostly Love Story in Three Parts by zosofi (T,38k) Derek is fifteen when he dies. He’s been fifteen for six years when he meets Stiles. And then suddenly… suddenly things start looking up.
  • Hold The Door by Hatteress (T, 17k) When Derek is killed by a rival alpha, the pack will stop at nothing to get him back. Even if that means blackmailing the most dangerous hunter duo this side of hell. Whatever. That whole devil thing was probably totally exaggerated, anyway.
  • one raven sorrow*** by grimm (E, 8k) Sometime before true darkness settles in, his attention is caught by someone walking along the gravestones, feet crunching over the thin cover of snow. This man is taller than the other, dressed all over in dark clothes, his face grim as the graves around him. Again, he is hit by warmth, but this warmth is almost painful, fiery. He remembers hands gripping at his skin, hot, burning, a low voice mumbling you feel amazing, fuck, fuck. He watches the man crouch in front of a grave and curiosity pulls him from the tree to land on top of the headstone. The man’s head jerks up, an angry noise rattling between his teeth, and he swipes an arm at him, forcing him to flutter back with an angry squawking “Hey!” The man freezes, his pale eyes going wide. The man looks from him to the grave beneath him and back again, a flurry of emotions crossing his face before he says, “Stiles?” Stiles tilts his head and looks at his clawed feet and feathery chest. “This fucking figures,” he says. 
  • inside these arms by rufflefeather (T, 18k) Stiles is having the worst day of his life and it keeps happening. / Derek’s worst nightmares didn’t prepare him for this.
  • all else perished by kekasi (T, 12k) There are only so many times a person can fall before the world becomes a vertical blur. Life, Stiles has found, is much the same way. There are only so many times a person can be born, live, and die before the epochs start to smear into one long, eternal day. Or night, as the case may be.
  • From Ashes by Jerakeen (T, 3k) Magic hates Stiles. He doesn’t know why Deaton insists he can use it.
  • Resurrection by Amythestina (T, 25k) Derek never planned to die. Least of all when he had finally started to acknowledge the growing attraction he felt for Stiles - an attraction he knew was mutual. But die he did, his soul ending up in Purgatory just like he had been told that it would. Despite this he felt unable to let go. He couldn’t forget the life he had left behind - his hopes for the future. So when the opportunity presents itself for Derek to return to the land of the living he takes it, heedless of the rules he might be breaking. Even partnering with a hunter seems like a small price to pay. Dean Winchester can get Derek out of Purgatory and back to Stiles. Derek’s willing to take that chance.

*** temporary character death is actually major character death with magical temporary ressurection, but a fantastic read anyways


The Halloween Party, XistentialAngst (BBC, multiple pairings)
Sherlock and John attend a Halloween party on the trail of a vampire killer — a man who’s been seducing his victims and taking all their blood. Sexy costumes, bad puns, hideous danger, frantic sex in hidden places and some Halloween-flavored fluff are all on hand to “treat” you. Boo.

Night of the Undead, a-cumberbatch-of-cookies (BBC, gen)
Anderson is left working overtime one evening when he receives an unexpected visitor.

Postlude, dogpoet (ACD, Holmes/Watson)
Watson is called upon to perform Holmes’ autopsy, but Holmes is, as ever, unpredictable.

A Study in Life, LynnLarsh (BBC, Johnlock)
All John had wanted was a cheap flat in London. He never thought to ask why it was so cheap.

Secrets Like Stars Above Our Heads, siehn (BBC, pre-Johnlock)
John has always been one of the Haunted.

Haunted, Nana_41175 (BBC, Johnlock)
Sherlock Holmes is dead. So why is John seeing and feeling him everywhere?

A Pocket Full of Posies, entanglednow (BBC, gen)
Sherlock always knows when people are guilty.

tell me we’re dead and i’ll love you even more, postcard mystery (Elementary, Joan/Sherlock)
He’s always heard ghosts, always seen them, too. But to command them is deeper, and darker, and different, and something no normal medium can manage. He is Sherlock Holmes. He is not a normal medium. He is not a normal anything.

The Trouble With Upstairs, anactoria (BBC, Johnlock)
221B is a bloody nightmare, Marlene decides. It’s been nigh-unlettable since the old couple who had the place when she bought it passed on, and the latest tenants are currently in the process of leaving in hysterics. No problems the first few days after they moved in, but after that—well. He complained of being woken by nightmares about the desert; she by ghostly violin music in the small hours.

The Master of Latham Hall, Kryptaria (BBC, Johnlock)
Ten years after meeting Sherlock Holmes, John Watson has successfully kept only one secret from the world’s only consulting detective: the most important secret he’s ever had.

Now, drawn into an impossible web of murders at Latham Hall, John learns the terrible price a man must pay for keeping certain things secret.

Night Shift, corpsereviver2 (BBC, Johnlock)
Former army doctor John Watson is a daylighter, a specialist bodyguard for vampires. When he’s hired to be the bodyguard for a vampire’s younger brother - a vampire who doesn’t fit the usual vampire stereotypes of lazy aristocrat in a remote manor or wealthy, indolent playboy - John is intrigued. To his surprise, Sherlock seems intrigued by him as well.

Possession, Nana_41175 (BBC, Johnlock)
"I seem to be suffering from delusions of being a vampire." Dr. John Watson has a new patient in hand. It seems like a straightforward case, or is it? Vampire!Sherlock/Psychiatrist!John AU fic.

Red Dahlias, QuinnAnderson (BBC, Johnlock)
John shifted into a stronger stance just as the hair on the back of his neck prickled up. Even if Sherlock looked human, John’s body could sense there was a predator nearby.

Preservation, Mildredandbobbin (BBC, Johnlock)
There was something there, between John and Sherlock, something on the other side of platonic, but John was straight and Sherlock was undead. John thought they had all the time in the world to sort it out.

How to Earn Your Discharge from the Last Chance Fusiliers, marlowe_tops (BBC, John/Moran)
Welcome to the Last Chance Fusiliers, John Watson. There are three ways out. One is getting shot. That’s an honorable discharge. Two is getting shot where it counts. Do send us a letter from hell, won’t you? And three is finally earning your dishonorable discharge.
Plenty of ways to do that.

Say That Again, But In English This Time, janonny (BBC, Johnlock)
Lestrade was calling about a new murder, Sherlock was acting strange even for a consulting detective-werewolf, and John was missing blood from the fridge. Just another day in John’s life. (Alternate Universe where Sherlock is a werewolf, and John is a vampire. Everything else is exactly the same.)

Milk and Honey, unknownsister (BBC, Johnlock)
“I miss you.”
“I know, John.”
“I failed you.”

Peach, edy (BBC, Johnlock)
“Nothing?” he questions, and he shifts to get a glance at the kitchen, at the man perched on a chair, microscope set in front of him. “Nothing you do can be explained with ‘nothing’, Sherlock.”

I Am Become Death, entanglednow (BBC, Johnlock)
"John, do you have any idea what I’ve done, what this means? This is impossible and incredible. It’s genius - it’s genius and it’s history. I’ve accomplished the impossible in a way science has never -"

"Shut up," John snaps and Sherlock actually stops talking. "Just stop, for god’s sake, Sherlock. You made a fucking zombie."

Gottle O’ Geer, LadyFeste (BBC, gen, possession)
Moriarty wasn’t the last one to speak through John.

Cold Burn, anactoria (BBC, Johnlock, faeries)
Magical AU: John is from another world, and Sherlock has inadvertently called him into this one.

Incubus, obsidienne (BBC, Johnlock)
For years, he’s preyed on the weak and the helpless. And then he meets John, and for the first time, Sherlock wants to protect rather than destroy. But sometimes, it isn’t possible to deny one’s nature.

Sirenum Scopuli, consulting_smartass (BBC, Johnlock, mind control)
Sherlock loves to watch John fighting his voice.

Cooking With Jim!, Charname (BBC, gen)
Jim really does want Sherlock to back off. He shares a meal with Sherlock in order to make himself perfectly clear.

the secrets behind these doors, thinkatory (BBC Sherlock, gen)
"How’s the diet?" Mycroft is hiding a secret bigger than anything the Home Secretary could boast of knowing, and only his brother shares it with him. The hunger is terrible. It has always been terrible. Fortunately, Mycroft is not the sort to be easily cowed by difficult situations.

Sic Gorgiamos Allos Subjectatos Nunc, etothepii (BBC/The Addams Family)
"Sic gorgiamus allos subjectatos nunc. It’s the family motto." "What does it mean?" "We gladly feast on those who would subdue us."

A Study in Midnight, M_Leigh (ACD/A Study in Emerald/Cthulu, Holmes/Watson)
In a world dominated by an alien monarchy, criminals Sherlock Holmes and John Watson work to take down the royal establishment while detective James Moriarty and his associate Sebastian Moran try to track them down. Also featuring by Irene Adler and Roderick Maclean, who did in fact exist.

A Study in [DATA EXPUNGED], berlynn_wohl (BBC/SCP Foundation, Johnlock)
AU in which John and Sherlock work for the SCP Foundation.

The Tell-Tale Organ, amo-amare (BBC/Poe, gen)
A human heart in the refrigerator is the last straw that pushes John over the edge.

Diogenes, rusty_armour (BBC/The X-Files, Mystrade)
When an unusual clue turns up during the course of an investigation, Lestrade is thrown into a world he never knew existed and experiences emotions he never thought he’d feel again.

A Celebrated Man Among the Gurneys, j_marquis (BBC/Silent Hill, gen)
RE: Silent Hill, W. Virginia: M. Holmes to S. Holmes.
CONFIDENTIAL: To be opened immediately.

i think you need a shotgun blast, postcardmystery (Elementary/BTVS, Joan/Sherlock)
She is not the Slayer and he is not the Slayer’s Watcher, but their roles are almost as old as human civilisation and they fall into them without even truly having to try. She kills twenty or thirty vamps a night, and he stands at her shoulder, twisting cheesewire between his fingers that he’s cursed with a spell five centuries old, a stake in his belt and blood between his teeth.

Joan Watson is a Slayer, and Sherlock Holmes is her Watcher.

Patient Boy
, taylorpotato (BBC/BTVS, Mycroft/Giles)
Victor Trevor drags Mycroft away from Cambridge for the weekend so they can attend a DIY punk show. Mycroft meets a man named Ripper, who plays guitar for the band Wretched. Pretty much it’s a night of leather jackets, whiskey, cigarettes, and weird sex.

The mercy of Death, janescott (BBC, Johnlock)
Sherlock carefully traces one finger over the outline of one of the scars, and John shivers again, becoming more and more sensitised to Sherlock’s touch. He’s getting hard again, he notes somewhat distantly, his cock filling and pushing against the mattress.

“Oh, of course,” Sherlock says suddenly.

“They’re from your wings.”

A One Room Hell, unsettled (Ritchieverse, Holmes/Watson)
Someone is watching him. Holmes having drug-induced hallucinations.

Shadows of Rome, madoshi, pennypaperbrain (BBC, gen)
Sherlock is a sociopath. But he likes people. And dogs.

Ruins of the Dark, philalethia (BBC, Johnlock, John/Mary)
Three years after “The Reichenbach Fall,” Sherlock comes back. But he comes back wrong.

Devil You Know, StarlingTheFool (Ritchieverse, Holmes/Watson)
"I’ve nothing to fear from you," Holmes said.

“No,” Watson replied, dropping the bloody knife on the table. “You never did.”

Michael Imagine: Vampire AU

Author: Rhine


He lived in the darkness.

Between shadows of midnight and dusk, in the dark corners of empty alleyways and forgotten streets. 

He lived underneath the light of the moon and knew the shadows of every building and every solitary figure as well as he knew the back of his hand.

He lived in the darkness and the isolation that came with it; a package deal.

It was expected, really - he’s been alone ever since he became this, years and decades and centuries ago. 

He remembers back when he was human, back when he craved affection and loved parties and felt the sun on his skin, back when he was alive. 

But it’s all just a whisper now, a faint memory that leaves a ghost of longing on his skin. For what he had. For what he could’ve had.

But it’s all in the past now - the memories are so faint that it could be someone else’s passing him by, meant for someone more worthy of such possibilities. 

He doesn’t deserve any of it. 

Not the sun’s warmth on his skin, not the sunrise of a new day and a new chance that signified rebirth; not the caress of a friend or a lover that sent tingles down his spine and not a warm whisper in his ear that said I love you or a simple smile that said I’m here for you. 

He doesn’t deserve any of that.

Not when he’s bathed in blood, not when he pierced skin and flesh and not when he needs death to survive, though it brings him no closer to being alive.

He hates how he craves the blood, hates how it dribbles over his lips and down his own throat; he hates how he can’t see straight when he smells it nearby and he hates how he feels a high when his teeth pierce skin, his eyes blurry from ecstasy and hunger.

He hates how he’s become a monster.

He roams the streets at night and he stops trying to reach out because every time he does - every goddamn time - he always ends up holding a broken body in his arms with the blood of yet another friend on his lips, the bitter guilt mixing into the metallic rush of blood.

He’s learned the hard way. 

He can’t control himself and he can’t help his instincts and he can’t help what he’s become and he knows it’s better this way, to be isolated and exiled, to be alone because he knows that’s just all he’s ever meant to be.


He’s a monster and he doesn’t deserve love or warmth or sunlight, not when he’s selfish enough to take lives just to sustain a pathetic existence like his. 

And then he met you.


You would be his downfall.

You were uncharacteristically charming and insanely stubborn - he tried to keep his distance, but you were persistent and you made it no easier for him to stay away.

Come on, just one smile? For me? 

And it bothered him how you never questioned why he could only come out at night or why he only had a close-lipped smile on good days or why his skin was just a few shades too pale and why his touch was always stone cold.

But at the same time, he liked it. He liked how you didn’t ask questions, how you accepted him with a smile and how you weren’t afraid to talk despite his silence.

He was always so conflicted when it came to you.

He wanted you to run away from him, to have you leave him and to have you find someone else whose touch could bring you warmth on the coldest nights and he wanted you to be disgusted at him the way he was disgusted at himself.

But a part of him, the last shred of humanity that he likes to think he has likes the way you hold his hands and how small they are in his; he likes how you walk with brightness in your step and how you never pressed him for questions that he didn’t want to answer, but instead made him smile and suppress a laugh that he didn’t think he was capable of doing anymore.  

He’d find himself looking for you in the shadows even though the rational part of him - the part of him that remembers how his tears taste mixed with a friend’s blood - tells him that he should be staying away.

And he knows that he can’t hide from you forever - you might suppress your questions, but he knows they’re still there, on the tip of your tongue - and he knows he has to answer them one day.

And he’s not sure if he’s more afraid of you laughing at him or running away.

He tells himself that both options are what’s best - you’ll be gone, he’ll be alone and everything will be as it should be. Him alone and you with someone else.

But he just can’t seem to swallow the idea of it - his stomach always twists at the thought of you doing either option and he can’t help but dislike the idea of you not being by his side.

(it’s too late, he’s in too deep now)

Because as much as he’s afraid to admit it, he cares for you - he didn’t want to, not when he first met you when you were cold and alone at the bus stop just like he was. He didn’t want to care for you when you smiled at him and sparked a conversation that he tried to stop, he didn’t want you to ask him to see you again because he knew he wanted to, too.

He didn’t want you meet you in the middle of the night because he knew he wanted you to make his nights less lonely that the very thought scared him because he should be lonely he should be alone. Not with you.

He should be alone. That’s all he was. All he deserves.

But then you come along and you meet him on lonely corners and dance on streetlamps in the dead of the night and you drink coffee at 3am just to keep him company.

And he doesn’t know why.

He doesn’t know why someone as beautiful as you, someone with a smile as wonderful and a personality as charming as you would even bother spending time with someone like him.

And he hates how he can’t help but to notice the curve of your neck when you take off your jacket or the smell of your blood from your seat across from him or the veins in your hands when you lace your fingers with his.

He hates how it reminds him that he can’t have love and he can’t have warmth and he can’t even have company and that he can’t have you.

It reminds him how he’s a monster, and how all monsters are meant to live and die alone.

But you stay by his side and while he loves it, the small voice in the back of his head can’t help but to ask for how long. 

And whether or not it would be him who would end it all.


I don’t care. 

But you should’ve cared, you should’ve cared that he wasn’t human and that he wasn’t alive and that he couldn’t love you with a beating heart like you deserved.

You should’ve cared that he was a monster at best and a beast that belonged in the shadows and you should’ve ran and you should’ve never looked back.

Because every time he’s told someone what he was, he’d always end up alone again with tainted blood in his system, reminding him that he’s still living with his friends’ blood in his veins as a reminder of what he did.

But you accepted him and he’s not sure if he’s happy or terrified or ecstatic or afraid.

Because he doesn’t know how to care for you the way he’s supposed to, the way you should be cared.

He can’t hold you on the coldest nights and keep you warm, not when his skin is colder than the iciest storms. He can’t shower you in kisses and he can’t show you his love because he’s always not careful enough, he’s always uncontrollable. He can’t let you sleep on his chest and have his heartbeat lull you to sleep because his chest is empty and no matter how much you wanted a piece of his heart, he didn’t have anything to give

What could he offer you?

nothing, nothing, nothing

And if he was human he could - maybe if you had met in another life, maybe if you had met before he had become a monster - maybe you could’ve been lovers.

Maybe he could’ve been a man that you deserved.

But I want you. 

And your voice is so childish and sweet and it drives him insane because dear god, did he want you too.

But he’s afraid because a part of him wants your lips on his skin and a part of him wants his blood on his lips.

He can’t decide which he craves more but he doesn’t want to chance losing you, too.

He wants to hold you in his arms, but not if you’re body’s limp in his hands, skin as pallid as his and eyes unseeing, two holes piercing the side of your neck.


He belonged to the darkness.

He belonged to the shadows that lurked in the darkest nights; his home were the black crevices of places long forgotten. 

But you were the sunlight with your bright smile and the glimmers of hope and optimism in your eyes, and you were a beacon of sunlight even in the pitch-black darkness of 3am.

He hasn’t seen sunlight in so long, but he sees sunshine in your smile, he tastes warmth in your kisses.

You make him feel alive again, and when you place a hand on his chest, he could almost pretend there’s a pulse for you to feel. 

I know you love me. You don’t need a heartbeat to prove that to me. You’re enough.

And you’re his poison because you were the sun in his eyes and he wasn’t created for a life of sunlight, of warmth, of hope.

He wasn’t created for a life with you.

But you’re addictive, and not just in the scent of your blood - she’s so much more than that, she’s so much more to me - and even though it might kill him in the end, he loves you.

He loves you with all the love someone as empty as him could give, and while he thinks it’s not enough, you always tell him differently.

You just can’t see what I do. I don’t see a monster. I see you. And I love you. I hope you can see that one day, too.

And there’s only so many hours in a day he can see you, there’s only so many nights you can leave during the ungodly hours of the night.

But he waits. He waits for you.

He has time.

He has you.

He makes every moment count, every second spent with you spent well. He’s careful to make sure his touch is gentle and he always pulls away too early for your liking, his nose grazing your neck and his lips trail your neck, a sharp intake leaving his lips.

He’s afraid of himself, he’s afraid of hurting you - but you always delve fearlessly into your arms and while he thinks it reckless, he can’t help but to give in to your love.

You find a home in his arms - they may be cold, but you like the shivers that run through your skin. You cherish the moments in between yesterday and tomorrow spent with him; the night sky black and blue and purple and flecked with stars, the world completely silent and devoid of anything but the two of you.

It was your own little world and you were his whole world.

And even though he had to leave before sunrise, you didn’t mind. The moon exhausted itself every morning to let the sun shine and he faded back into the darkness to let you go.

But you always came back.

And you always would.


request tweets, gifs, & imagines here!

Happy Halloween! Here’s a shiver-inducing fic list for your reading enjoyment! As always, let us know about any that we’ve missed!

(Note: While all have some form of Halloween-esque component, many are not written with the intention of being spooky. OTHERS, however, especially in the cold-blooded and horror category can be seriously disturbing, so READ AT YOUR OWN RISK)

Fics with Halloween in them:

A Tricky Treat - famousfremus

By the Light of the Halloween Moon by TwlightCakes

Little Red Running Shorts - youarebeingridiculous

Masquerade - belladonnablush

Little Red’s Secret - cinnamon_a

Pumpkins - hedgehoginatutu

Favorite Holiday - Diana_Flynn

Hot For Teacher - english5672


The Ghost and Mrs. Hawthorne - MTK4FUN

The Gardener - passionately_curious

The Ghost in the Woods - Trippy41

Sleep in Heavenly Peace - peetasbunmyoven

No Sleep - annieoakley1

The Portrait - slagheapwhore

A Second Wind - MTK4FUN

In Spirit - loupee


Secrets in the Shadows - Elizthewhiz

Bad Timing - misshoneywell

Science vs. Romance - lovelee

Red As You Bleed - jypzrose

The Hunt - zury


Myths of the UnDead - Leviosa7

And the feeling coming from my bones says find a home - annieoakley1

It’s the Apocalypse, Sweetheart - EllanaSan

Surviving Death - fnurfnur

Night of the Living Bread - Abagail_Snow

The End as We Know It - glintwarsgreatest

Wasting My Young Years - katnisseverdennys

Radio - GreenWool

Stay Alive - katnissandgalevsevil

It Happens in the Night - lollercakes

Wicked (witch fics):

Amas Veritas - optimus_pam

Good Witch - allhailthehutch

Witch - Diana_Flynn

Just a Bartender - abbythebear

Two Everdeens - abbythebear

Elemental - TeaWithSugar

Ampersand Mountains Hanging Tree - FortuneFaded2012

My Familiar - loupee


The Colour of Heartbreak - alatariel_gildaen

Too Precious for this World - kismet4891 & Wildharp

The Boy With the Bread - nonnie_mouse

Katniss Everdeen: Demon Hunter - alatariel_gildaen, famousfremus, gozips28, Miss_Maia, plumgal1899, SolasVioletta, titania522

Pushing Dandelions - aimmyarrowshigh

One Day, One Hundred Years - bathsheba78

I’ll Follow the Sun - Abagail_Snow

The Endless In-Between - amazingpanemmemories (thanks, loveforpanem!)

Touched - stacylk

Dissonance - ohmymeggs

Cold Blooded (killer fics)

Butterflies - misshoneywell

Come to the Tree - peetashouseofcards

PsychoKiller - Ro_nordmann

Some of PIP’s Modern Locations: Cemetery prompt:

Underground - Audrina C

Shadows and Granite - nonemoreblack

A Boy in the Garden - erin-babbit

From PiP’s Horror prompt (not otherwise listed)

Real - silvercistern:

Death Takes a Holiday Inn - waypastdue

Volunteer - Diaphenia

The Transcript - the_anon_g

Silence - sponsormusings

The Mockingjay - streetlightlove

Sometimes, Though… - ellenkafromffn

Pound of Flesh - bathsheba78

The Raft - erin-babbit

The Lady in the Woods - chele20035

And if that’s not enough to have you hiding under your covers throughout the witching hour, you can always haunt the Horror, Suspense, and Supernatural categories of and AO3, or peruse the Dark!fic/Dark!Peeta/Dark!Katniss tags on AO3.

henleyliam said:

Ziam 17 🙈

Liam’s clutching his mum’s hand as he walks into nursery, his other hand gripping his pumpkin tub for sweets desperately hard. He’s wearing his pirate costume with the trousers that are too long for him so his mum had rolled up the pants legs, promising him that he still looked like a scary pirate.

He finds Zayn almost immediately, dressed as a bat which Liam thinks is super cool and he drops his mum’s hand, racing over to fall down next to Zayn and grin at him.

"Hey," Zayn says. His face softens and he reaches for Liam’s hand, closing his fist around Liam’s, a habit that Liam’s grown used to in the two months he’s known Zayn. "Cool outfit."

"Zayn, you’re a bat," Liam says in complete awe. "You’re like Batman!"

Zayn giggles and turns his face into Liam’s shoulder. “No I’m not,” he says but Liam can tell he’s lying.

"You are," Liam insists. He reaches out to stroke Zayn’s wings, his tiny fingers soft and careful as he handles them with the utmost care. "S’beautiful Zayn."

They huddle together while the teacher goes through their lessons and when it’s reading time, Zayn helps Liam with the harder words because Zayn’s really smart and Liam still has trouble with long words. And every now and again while Zayn’s scribbling on his paper, his tongue pressed against his teeth as he concentrates, Liam just stares at him in awe.

"You’re so smart," Liam mumbles as he puts a neat line through his misspelling and tries again. Zayn never has to cross anything out because he always gets it right, to Liam’s utter amazement.

"You’re smart too," Zayn says. Liam giggles because he knows he’s not really, but Zayn’s his best mate and Zayn’s never wrong.

Liam does his best pirate impression during break and waves his plastic sword around while Zayn looks on wide-eyed and impressed. Liam giggles his way through the pirate noises that he learned from Nicola yesterday.

"You do it," Liam says, pressing the sword into Zayn’s hands and tearing off his eyepatch to hook it around Zayn’s head. Zayn tries a pirate accent that has Liam giggling into his hands and by the time Zayn’s jumping around and yelling about treasure, Liam’s on the floor and his belly hurts from laughing too hard.

"You make a better pirate," Zayn decides when he hands the sword back and Liam tucks it into his waistband. Zayn’s hand slips into his and squeezes and they head for their favourite sleeping spot, right under the window where they plop themselves down and shove at each other gently until Liam’s on his back and Zayn’s tucked into his side. Liam’s trying to teach himself to stop sucking his thumb because he’s almost four now and only babies suck their thumbs, so he grabs Zayn’s hand and twines their fingers together while Zayn closes his eyes and huffs out a tired breath that sweeps over Liam’s skin where they’re so close. With a yawn, Liam closes his own eyes and shuffles a bit closer.

"You make the best Batman," Liam mumbles before he drops off to sleep. "The best Batman ever."

October 31st, 2014 - Trick or Treat

AUTHOR: join-all-the-fandoms

31st of October, 2014 - Trick or Treat

Alfred lifted the curtain of the living room window for the third time in ten minutes, and felt despair wash over him as a couple of kids- all dressed in their Halloween costumes and eagerly talking about how much candy they got- passed by his house. He was supposed to be one of those kids dang it! If only his brother would stop talking on the phone and take him out trick or treating like he promised their parents he would, then it wouldn’t be a problem. Sadly for Alfred, that wasn’t the case.

"Matt!" Alfred shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth to make sure his voice would be loud enough for the other to hear from his bedroom. "Hurry up! All the good candy’s gonna be gone soon!"

Matthew yelled back that he would be done in two minutes, and it only made Alfred roll his eyes. That would mean his brother wouldn’t be done for another half hour at most and he wasn’t going to wait that long. He had waited enough! He was ten years old, dang it! He was pretty sure he didn’t need his brother following him around as he got candy. Matt wasn’t even dressing up this year anyway -something about how he was too old for that now - so what was the point in him going?

With that in mind, Alfred decided he was perfectly capable of going trick-or-treating on his own. He adjusted his cowboy hat, grabbed his plastic gun and jack-o-lantern bucket, and carefully opened the door so it wouldn’t make a sound. He looked upstairs one more time and heard his brother laughing at something his friend said. Alfred shrugged and stepped outside. Matt better not take any of his candy this year.

He felt proud of himself the second he stepped onto the sidewalk. The feeling went away when a few kids passed him, buckets half full with candy. He needed to get candy fast. Alfred looked around for any houses giving candy and noticed his next-door neighbor’s lights were still on. That meant they were probably giving candy. He hurried over to the front door and knocked.

When no one answered, Alfred pouted and knocked again. He began stepping away after the third knock when the door opened just a bit for him to see a kid’s head peek out. Alfred had never seen that shade of green for eyes, or eyebrows that thick before. He couldn’t help but gape at the kid, who was looking at him wearily. “What do you want?” The boy asked, accent clear in his words. Alfred recognized it was English from all the TV he saw.

Alfred grinned and held his bucket out. “Trick or treat!” He said cheerfully.

The boy just stared at him.

"You’re supposed to give me candy now." Alfred pouted, shaking his empty bucket for emphasis.

"…I don’t have any." The boy deadpanned.

"What?" Alfred gasped. "Why? Wait, is it ‘cause you’re gonna trick-or-treat, too?"

The boy shook his head. “I was supposed to go with my brother, but he’s…busy.” He frowned and muttered something Alfred couldn’t hear but had a feeling were curses.

"My brother’s busy too." Alfred offered. "He keeps talking to his friend about something. So, I decided to go by myself!"

The boy blinked. “You can do that?”

"Well, yeah." Alfred shrugged. "I’m not doing anything bad, so it should be okay! Hey!" He stepped closer to the boy with a grin on his face. "Come with me! That way, I won’t be by myself and you’ll get to go trick-or-treating."

The boy said nothing at first. He only glanced back into the house. “…Okay, I’ll get my bucket.” Alfred fist-pumped and waited for the boy to come back outside. After a minute or so, he came back out - that was when Alfred noticed he was dressed as a pirate - with a bucket similar to his own and a worried look on his face. “I’m not so sure about this…”

"We’ll be fine." Alfred grabbed the boy’s hand and headed towards another house, where a couple was passing out candy. "What’s your name, by the way? I’m Alfred, but you can call me Al if you want."

"Arthur." The boy, Arthur now, mumbled.

"Nice to meet you." Alfred smiled. It turned into a grin when he reached the couple’s driveway. "You ready to get lots of candy, Artie?"

"Don’t call me Artie." Arthur snapped, though a small smile was present on his face. "We better get a lot. My brothers will try taking it from me tomorrow, so we better get plenty so I can have some left."

"Matt does the same thing!" Alfred laughed. "Older brothers are mean, huh?"

This time Arthur laughed. “Yeah.” He nudged Alfred to move forward. “Now, move or we won’t get candy.”

Alfred laughed again and led Arthur to the beginning of their trick-or-treating.

That night became a lot of things. It became the time when Alfred and Arthur managed to almost give both their brothers a heart attack from leaving their respective houses, the reason they were grounded for two weeks, and the time they both got so much candy it lasted them the rest of the year. Personally, Alfred likes to remember it as the night he met his best friend and husband, but that’s just him.

Almost Scary (jeanmarco)

Pairing: Jean Kirschtein/Marco Bodt
Wordcount: 2883
Summary: The first time they run into each other Halloween morning is nothing unusual. The second time is a coincidence. The third is somewhat suspicious.
The fourth is almost scary.

{read here!}

happy halloween!!!! i promised a short jeanmarco au, and th i s is what happened. eat lots of candy and have fun tonight everyone!!!!!!!

I don’t know what I’m going to do next, but I won’t delete my blog (I can’t, actually, I simply can’t), or dissapear. I love so many people here, and I’m not ready to leave. However, I won’t make any gifset for now, or reblog any either. So I guess I’m on a hiatus? I had posted one more gifset, the one I worked on yesterday before everything went to hell (old size, so it looks ugly, I apologize for that).

If things go back to normal (I don’t think they’ll reverse the change, but, who knows? Maybe they’ll do something to fix the old graphic and gifs problem), I’ll be back to normal again. I will also be here, read my dash, read you, and hope for the best.

In the meantime, you can message me here, or find me at Twitter: @sansalayne :) EDIT: I just created an Ello account, so you can find me there as well: sansalayne

This is not a goodbye, I’m sure! :) We will be all back in business in no time, here or there, talking about these things we love, sharing our craziness, and just being ourselves! So this is just temporary, they can’t beat us ;)

I love you all ♥