#pb fanfic

[plumbum-art]

art for chapter 2 from @quitequaintrelle s wonderful south downs fic we shall have the world for our own 🦩🦩

i love this fic so much and i encourage everyone to read it!

to quote the author:

"If it is your deeply cherished belief that Aziraphale and Crowley are cartoon characters who should get to spend their South Downs retirement as old queens being disgustingly romantic losers who can't keep their hands off each other and won't stop beefing with local senior citizens, this story might be for you."

[cartoondrawer]

Warning: Blood!

Martin and Chris walked quietly through the forest. Aviva had sent them to seek out to stop a company that had been harming animals.

Martin: “Hey..”

Chris turned his attention to Martin with a confused expression on his face.

Martin: “ Do you think this is safe to do?”

Chris: “I’m sure we will be fine! We have done this dozens of times!”

Martin: “Yeah..you’re right!”

Chris and Martin kept walking along to end up bumping into a..door? They didn’t see it due to talking and not paying attention..but they looked at the location that Aviva said that the building would be at..and this was it!

Martin: “Okay. Let’s head inside I guess?”

Chris nodded and grabbed the door handle, opening the door. Inside were chemicals knocked onto tables and robots moving quickly around the room. Animals had also been trapped inside cages..

Martin: “Oh my..”

They slowly stepped forward a few more times before hearing the door shut behind them. Turning around, they saw a figure that looked about at least 7 feet tall. She moved forward, staring coldly at them.

Indigo: “Hm. I wasn’t expecting for you guys to be here.”

Chris: “H-huh?”

Indigo: “Oh..you don’t seem to remember me? I worked with your little villain friends.”

Martin and Chris looked a little closer, recognizing her..she was telling the truth. She was with the villains a whileee back.

Martin: “W-we demand you release these animals! They deserve to be-“

Indigo: “-Living free and in the wild? Yeah..that saying is getting quite old, don’t you think?”

Indigo swiftly kicked Martin to the ground, Chris gasped and tried running to one of the animals to get his suit working. She glanced over to him, running after Chris. She grabbed his hair and banged his forehead repeatedly onto a table.

Chris pushed her off, grasping his head in pain. Martin got up, running to check on Chris.

Martin: “Chris! Bro are you alright?!?”

Chris: “Yeah..I-I’ve had worse injuries..”

Indigo grabbed a nearby blade, slowly approaching them. Chris got up.

Chris: “We..we’ll leave.”

Indigo: “Oh but you can’t leave now!~..You have already seen everything. I can’t let you go now.”

Indigo ran up to them, slashing Martin’s knee open. He screamed and fell to the ground, Chris tried grabbing the blade from Indigo but she stabbed his arm.

She turned to Martin who looked like he was about to cry. She pulled him up, and slashed him once more.

…

The blade was sharp enough to go through the power suit, It ended up coming off Martin and he fell to the ground in pain, breathing heavily. Indigo had made a giant cut from his chest to his stomach. Blood poured onto the floor.

Chris: “MARTIN! NO!!!”

Indigo turned to Chris, ready to finish him off too. She got ready to stab him when the door slammed open. She sighed and turned around, seeing a familiar face.

…

Donita: “Back up.”

Indigo: “Oh! Donita Donata...why the hell are you here?”

Indigo said, gritting her teeth. Donita walked in, some of her mannequins following after her. One of the mannequins grabbed Indigo, stopping her from finishing the job.

Donita stood silent as Chris looked at her SO confused. She did a “come here” hand signal, making Chris walk slowly to her.

Donita: “Grab Martin, and get in the jet.”

Chris nodded and grabbed him. Indigo started yelling angrily while Donita walked out of the lab, with Chris trailing after her.

Chris had a confused look on his face as Donita closed the door.

Donita: “Are you gonna get in the jet or stay here? Come on.”

….

In the jet, everything was pretty silent until they reached the Touruga. Chris grabbed Martin who was barely conscious but turned to Donita first.

Chris: “Hey..uh..thanks Donita.”

Donita: “Whatever. Just leave now..”

Chris walked off the jet with Martin, and Donita’s jet took off. Chris knocked on the door, and it opened automatically with Aviva standing there.

Aviva: “Oh my god! What happened to you guys?!?”

Chris: “I-I’ll explain soon..just let us in.”

Aviva nodded and swiftly moved out of the way as she called Koki and Jimmy for help.

-With the Villains.-

Zach had called the villains for their annual meeting, although one person was missing..until she slammed the door open.

Donita: “Ah, I’m so sorry. I was..busy.”

Zach: “What could be so important that you almost missed our annual villain meeting?!”

Donita stared at Zach before rolling her eyes and sitting down.

Donita: “Well..I need to talk to you Zach. About..well..remember Indigo?”

That name seemed to terrify Zach a bit as his eyes widened. Gourmand and Dabio remembered Indigo, but they didn’t seem to know why Zach was scared. The same could be said for Paisley and Rex except they only heard about her from Gourmand.

Gourmand: “Oh..that girl? We haven’t seen her in years..”

Donita: “Yeah, well she’s back.”

Paisley: “Oh? Maybe she could join us-“

Donita/Zach: “NO.”

Paisley got a bit startled before fixing her glasses.

Paisley: “Just a suggestion.”

Dabio: “Whatever did happen to her? She was actually really kind-“

Donita: “Don’t you remember? One of Zach’s bots..malfunctioned. She ended up leaving due to the accident.”

Zach: “Y-yep! But uh..she’s back? Like..”

Donita: “Yeah. She’s has this company..if you can even call it that, where she actually..kills animals.”

Zach: “Oh..wait, IS THAT WHERE YOU WERE? DONITA.”

Donita sighed and crossed her arms.

Donita: “If you must know..I was getting a few certain people out of that situation. But it doesn’t matter now.”

Zach: “..Right.”

As they continued their meeting, Rex stared off into the distance. Paisley glanced at him, confused.

Paisley: “Is..something the matter Rex?”

Rex: “W-wh..No! I’m all good!”

Paisley: “Hm. Alright.”

————————————————————————

Part 2 Below!

[mischiefmanagers]

Hi!!! I've been slowly working through your fic rec posts and you've literally made my life like 100x easier! I was just wondering though if you knew of any azriel fics that focuses on his hands? The idea of comforting him and showing his hands some lovin just makes me so happy but it's really hard to search for something so specific!

Feel free to ignore me tho!

Hello!!! So glad you’re enjoying all the fic recs 🥹 I was able to hunt down a few fics for you that focus on his hands. Hopefully there’s a new one in there for you to read! 🥰

These Hands by @violet-shadows

Scars by @ellievickstar

The shadows of his past by @valentina-writes

Azriel hands headcanons and Azriel + accidental handtouches by @picassho-18

scars and all by @imabookadict

[rileyh20]

WORKING ON A PB&J SHIP FIC

INCLUDES STRESSED PONYBOY

YEAHHH

[thefourfan]

Bro never let my ass near Nuzi hurt/comfort oneshotz again becuz why tf did I write this entire essay thru the bookmark notez about how much I liked one of the ficz I read QmQ

[smilesthroughfandoms]

A Bone to Pick (Chapter Preview)

It's me, I'm back with the last preview! Actual chapter to be posted next week

Mei turned to Macaque with a small smirk. Macaque instantly noticed and felt uneasy. “What? What is it?”

Mei’s smirk turned into a small smile as she whipped out her phone and typed on it for a bit. With a small flick of her finger, there was a faint Woosh! sound from her phone. Then she just leaned back in her chair and waited, staring at Macaque like the cat that got the cream. 

Bai He perked up when she heard the combined buzz and Ding! from Macaque’s pocket. “Hoo tess-ted you?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, Bai He.” Tang politely scolded her. Bai He rolled her eyes before angrily slurping her mouthful of noodles.  

Macaque tic-a-tacced on his phone, he raised a brow. “I got sent a video?”

MK brightened, happily smacking the table. “Ooh! Play it, play it!”

“Yeah, Mr. Maquack, play it!” PB encouraged. 

The shadow monkey did, and upon opening the video, he was greeted to the site of Bai He skating around in what looked like a small home. She looked only slightly less bedraggled in the video then she did now, so Macaque had to assume this video was recently taken. The lack of light apart from the candles all but confirmed Macaque’s suspicions. “I’m doing it!” Bai He’s recorded voice came through the phone speaker. “I’m doing it, Mei!”

“Oh! I remember this,” exclaims Bai He. “Mei just helped me make skates for the first time. She teachered me really good!”

Macaque looks up at Mei in surprise. “You’re welcome,” is all she says, with a smug look about her. 

Not knowing what to say, Macaque turns back to the video and replays it again. And again. And again. Each time with a smile. Bai He wasn’t scared anymore. She looked so happy in the video. He turned to look at her, watching with stars in her eyes as he hit replay once again. She looked happy here too. 

“Thank you, Mei.” Macaque turns back to the dragon-girl. “I mean it.”

Tang smiled as Macaque replayed the video one more time for good measure. Then he turned to see Mei’s reaction, stopping short when he saw the look on Monkey King’s face. 

He looked… startled? Impressed? In awe? Breathless? Of Macaque smiling? And… and he looked like he just got bad news. Why did he look like he got bad news? Tang stared at Macaque out of the corner of his eye. His smile was soft and wide as he once again replayed the video. 

“How many times are you gonna watch it?” Bai He asked him. 

“As many as I want,” Macaque answered. 

“Why? I mean, it’s cool to see my first time using my new powers and all, but I could just show you in real time. It’s not that special.”

“… Yeah it is,” Macaque mumbled quietly, rewinding it a bit to hear Bai He’s recorded gleeful laughter once more. 

Tang turned toward Monkey King again, but found The Great Sage dejectedly tapping at his phone screen, face otherwise unreadable. Tang awkwardly turned back toward his bowl of noodles, and caught Pigsy staring at him. Pigsy tilted his head to the side. You good, Tangy? He asked without words. 

Tang nodded with a small smile. Yeah, I’m fine, Pigsy. 

Satisfied, Pigsy turned with a chipper grin back to his own bowl of noodles. Tang glanced at Monkey King over his shoulder, making a mental note of his silent dejectedness for a later date. 

Macaque tapped on his phone once more, going to pocket it. “Really, Mei, thank you. It means a lot that you would send this to—wait, how did you get my number? I never gave it to you.”

“Oh, that.” Mei shrugged nonchalantly, shoving some green vegetables into her mouth. “MK gave it to me.”

“That I did!” MK confirmed brightly.  “How did you get my number?!”

[pbs-theundeadmaggot]

Back with another request! If I send too many, just pick your favourites or ignore them :) also, with any requests from me you can do with !fem or !gn, whichever you prefer!

Maybe the reader works in like a library, or used book shop, and Eddie shows up all the time because he has a crush on her, but hasn't worked up the nerve to actually ask her out or talk to her more than like small talk yet?

Creep

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

[a/n] I'm so sorry this took so long, I'm working on your other request but I wanted to quickly get this one completed. I hope its okay!

[warnings?] religion contemplation? not proof read

Valen-Cries masterlist available here!

He’d spent majority of his free days watching from afar, working up the courage to approach her, coming close a couple times but quickly backing out as soon as her eyes locked with his, sending him a small wave and shy smile before turning back to the book she’d been reading intensely. 

Eddie swore he could’ve fainted then and there, with the spring sun shining down on her features, highlighting each curve and crevice that graced her skin, she was like an angel incarnate. While he was the furthest from religious he’d happily declare his faith with her as his witness. 

 Funnily enough he’d been sent to the library to work on his religious studies, not because he cared per sea but because if he was going to play into the idea of being the satan worshipper he might as well make it accurate. Of course his friends had questioned his sanity yet again, almost fearful this would do the opposite he’d intended it to do. However, he wasn’t going to back down from the challenge so easily.

In the short time spent among dusty damp books and you, he’d quickly learnt quite a lot. For one your favourite book was the princess bride, the crumpled pages and frayed spine giving it away. He’d found a sense of comfort in your actions, seeing that while you presented yourself as put together and calm there was clearly a need to escape the present and live through the words of another, with no expectation of the now.

He’d also learnt that you seemed to have your other favourites on rotation, after finishing one you’d switch back to another worn down copy of a classic, taking notice that not one of them appeared to be Lord of the Rings. Perhaps if he even worked up the nerve to talk to you, he’d ask.

There were times when he’d caught himself staring for too long to not be considered creepy, while he’d tried desperately not to be. After weeks of lowkey stalking he’d given up, realising that you didn’t seem to mind, in fact it had become a sort of game between the two of you. From quiet flirting between the shelves and leaving small gifts in the others unmarked territory, it seemed as though you also enjoyed this.

Valentines had quickly approached and while Eddie was never really bothered with mediocre holidays, the prospect of actually participating had him shaking with nerves. The following day he’d walked in with his own copy of Lord of the Rings, dog eared and probably in worse state than yours, quickly placing it in front of you and blurting out his question without a thought.

“Be my valentine?” Stunned at his own forwardness, clearing his throat once more before continuing “I mean I’ve seen you around and I thought that maybe you’d like to go out with me?” 

A wide smile spread across your face at his words, his chocolate button eyes staring down at you in desperation as the silence stretched. Seems you both had the same idea though, as you reached down to grab your copy of The Princess Bride, thrusting it into his fidgety hands. Your words had failed but keenly nodding like a lovesick fool at him as you swapped numbers and arranged a date.

Which would be one of many to come

[st4rrzynight]

𝑟𝑒𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠

𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒

𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 － 𝑖𝑛 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑚𝑖𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑒， 𝑜𝑟 𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑎 𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑔𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙 ℎ𝑒𝑟，𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑠 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑜𝑡𝑎 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒， 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑠 𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑓 𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑎 𝑖𝑠𝑛’𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒， 𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑠 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑑．

𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 － 𝑖𝑛 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑠𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑙 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑙 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑔𝑒，𝑒𝑥𝑐𝑒𝑝𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔．

➾ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑔𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑒𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑥 𝑜𝑐； 𝑚𝑖𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑒 (𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑎) 𝑔𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑧

➾ 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

➾ 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

august 10th 2019

two days before the first day of school. two days before paige and ellas last first day of school. yet for the first time in years, they will be experiencing it without each other.

after ellas trip to her grandparents over the summer, it seems as if ella just wasn't herself anymore. something changed. a bad change.

she stopped hanging out with her usual group of friends and found herself engaging with the cheerleaders, the snobby ones.

she stopped wearing her usual pair of graphic tees with cargo pants and started wearing more pink and skirts.

her makeup went from her inspiration being avril lavigne and lindsay lohan in freaky friday, to keeping up with the latest "clean girl" makeup trends.

something happened, something bad. but worst of all, she cut ties with her best friend since second grade, paige bueckers.

it was damn near the end of the world for paige, she had never imagined living without her best friend by her side. what caused this? why is her best friend suddenly a new person?

paige has so many questions and she is determined to get them answered, but most of all, get her best friend back.

their relationship was never complicated, well not until recently. before ella went to her grandparents, the few days of summer ella spent at home were spent with paige.

paige still remembers their last day together. it was 6 pm on a friday afternoon, they had both went to the ice cream shop nearby and settled on the swing set at their local park.

while watching the sun set both paige and ella couldn't help but steal glances at each other. the curve of paiges nose, the defined jawline, the sun shining the perfect amount of light on her face.

the way ella's freckles popped out more in the sun, her hypnotizing hazel eyes, the dimples on her cheeks as her mouth formed a smile.

it was perfect, everything was perfect. at least they thought so. after a while the tension between them thickened.

"you know i love you right?" the words caught ella by surprise as paige broke the silence.

"yeah, i know. i love you too." the way it rolled off her tongue seeming so perfect, yet it was not said in the definition paige had hoped for.

"no, not like that, well yes, but i love you ella. more than friends love each other." paige didn't know where the sudden confidence came from.

maybe it was the ice cream, maybe it was all of ellas not so discreet glances at paige. although ella was caught extremely off guard by this new information, she knew she was not going to say something stupid to lose paige, in fact she had been feeling the same way.

"i've been having those same thoughts and feelings about you, i love you more than friends could ever love each other." this was an understatement to say the least, ellas love for paige went beyond the understanding of a simple human mind.

in fact, this was the night of their first kiss, ellas first kiss. it felt so right. the way they stared into each others loving eyes subconsciously leaning in.

their hand on the others face as they closed the gap their lips connecting, it felt as if that was the remaining puzzle piece to the unfinished puzzle.

despite them growing up hearing people constantly say gay people are going to hell, its a sin, its not what god intended, in this moment none of it mattered.

michelle had always struggled with her faith, never being able to fully commit to being christian. part of her didn't want to be christian, but the other part followed the religion out of fear.

it was all fear, when she prayed, went to church, spread the gospel, it was driven by the fear of there being a chance of a god and being sent to hell.

ella knew she was a lesbian, she had known for years. she never found anything wrong with being a lesbian, its who she was after all.

yet sometimes shed find herself praying to god at night to be normal and find the "right man" that every homophobic person talks about when they see a lesbian. she seeked to be normal, to not be the way she was, to marry a man and have children, the way that god intended.

but everything in that moment felt so right no matter what people have said. but every good thing has to come to an end, what they didn't know was something that completely destroyed every remaining piece of what they had.

it was the beginning of the end.

[habizuh-studios]

Can anyone recommend any GOOD Johnny Cade/Ponyboy Curtis fics?

Preferably on ao3, man i am starving

[claritys-silly-things]

Sighh they’re gay guys

Really crappy summary:

A longer retelling of Pony and Johnny’s haircuts in the church. Also they’re really gay. Maybe I’ll add more chapters in the future, idk.

Basically it’s MY version of the haircut scene because it didn’t really go into too much detail in the book and I also just wanted to write about gay ppl

[plumbum-art]

@hibyefics and @plumbum-art proudly present

🚀🚀🚀

Launch Sequence

a M-rated prelude to the Relationship for Beginners series by @hibyefics

"It wasn't too much, though? Really?"

"Agh," said Crowley, butterflies still a riot in his belly. "I mean - yeah. Just takes some getting used to. The - spit.

[uselessgay10101]

~Dance under the rainbow~

[cartoondrawer]

Just a quick story I wanna write after all the angst I been doing..(and to help me think of more for the PAR AU..)

[mischiefmanagers]

i’m gonna need y’all to calm down with the angst in the azriel tags cause i am NOT okay.

[lobinilo]

...so....

they canceled World On Fire

[malthemagnifisent]

Pairing: Aerin x Male!elf Mc (Cyrus)

Plot: After so many relationships and friendships ruined by the interference of his brother, Aerin was determined not to let anything ruin Cyrus’ opinion of him. He couldn’t abide the thought of the one good thing in his life being turned against him, and perhaps that left him with more anger and possessiveness then he realized.

Content warning: Mentions of Baldur abuse, and very slightly 18+ scene at the end, but nothing really happens. It’s mainly just kissing and Aerin like unties MC’s pants.

Tag list: @zhoras-bitch @rosepetals1 @saibug1022 @oh-so-youre-a-nerd @baldwinboy5ive (enjoy)

Baldur had always made sure to ruin any little thing that Aerin had to himself, and that included every moment, gift, and even person that Aerin found some enjoyment in. He’d destroyed Aerin’s favorite toys when they were young, and as they grew older, he took away even his peace.

The worst of all had been when he’d ruined the one good relationship in Aerin’s otherwise miserable life. He’d formed a friendship, perhaps even something more, with the son of a nobleman, and for a while, Aerin had been almost happy.

Then Baldur had found out, because he always found out, and before Aerin even had a chance, his brother had crushed the relationship in his hand and left Aerin floundering.

Somehow his brother had managed to wheedle his way under the skin of his friend, whispering all sorts of lies in his gullible ear, until finally his one bit of solace had turned away from him with nothing but anger.

In Aerin’s mind, everything of his was going to be ruined eventually, and Cyrus was no exception. Even with Baldur gone, he couldn’t discount that somehow Cyrus would be turned against him, and perhaps his fears drove him rather mad at times as jealousy and possessiveness became all too easy.

Everyone wanted Cyrus; that was a fact. He was smart and beautiful, brave beyond belief, and the hero of Morella, to top it all off. People wanted him, and Aerin couldn’t blame them, but still, Cyrus was his; Cyrus had chosen him, and he would be damned if he’d let anyone take him away.

There was a party in the castle of White Tower, and Cyrus, as usual, was the center of attention. He smiled politely as he talked with pushy nobles, all of whom wanted just a minute to speak with the famed hero of Morella.

Aerin would have been at Cyrus’ side, but just a moment ago he’d been sent for drinks, and as soon as he’d left, partygoers had descended like vultures. If he thought Cyrus’ minded, then Aerin would have hurried back, but as it was, he didn’t think Cyrus cared that he was being swarmed by admirers.

It took him some time to find a waiter through the thick crowd, and when he did, it was to the realization that he’d completely lost sight of Cyrus, so despite his best efforts, he may have been rather short with the servant as he snatched up cups of wine and hurried back through the crowd.

Realistically, he knew nothing would have changed in just those few seconds—that Cyrus would still be standing where he had been before, laughing and smiling until all the warmth of the room seemed to be coming from him.

That’s what he expected, at least, but when the crowd parted, he had a sinking feeling as he realized Cyrus was no longer standing among the chatting nobles.

His hands trembled slightly on the long stems of the wine glasses, but he paid it no mind as he set them down on the first table he saw before walking up to the dispersing crowd of men and women.

“Where’s Cyrus?” He snapped, glaring at one of the women he knew had been surrounding his friend. (or lover perhaps, he didn’t know what to call him.)

She looked at him with a familiar expression of distaste, one he’d gotten used to seeing from everyone whom he used to know. Not everyone had been as forgiving as Cyrus, and there were still people in Whitetower who saw him as nothing more than a corrupted prince who’d almost ended the realm.

Luckily for him, along with that hatred came a sense of fear, and usually he would have detested that anyone was still afraid of him, but now he was grateful for it, as it had the noblewoman responding in an instant.

“He went to the garden; Lord Edric accompanied him.”

That was all Aerin needed before he turned sharply on his heel and stormed out of the doors and into the cool evening air. His hands had clenched into tight fists, and each breath was a pain to draw in.

The scar on his chest ached, stretched as his lungs expanded, and burned in the cool air, but all that was what he’d grown used to; he’d come to expect that pain. What he couldn’t accept was the fear and misery of having the one truly good thing in his life taken away.

Lord Edric was a familiar name to him; he’d been friends with Baldur; that is, if anyone could really be considered friends with his late brother, and Aerin couldn’t stand the thought of him being alone with Cyrus for even a solitary moment.

God knows what he would say, what poison he would whisper, what lies he would tell, and how he might turn Cyrus against Aerin like Baldur had done so many times.

He stumbled over his own feet slightly as he heard Cyrus’ voice ahead of him, sounding clearly through the garden where no other sound but the wind could possibly be heard.

As he rounded a grove of trees, Aerin heard Lord Edric laughing and spotted the pair standing a few feet away, a good distance between them but not enough for Aerin's liking, not when Lord Edric could reach out and touch Cyrus if he tried, not when he could see the fine details of Cyrus’ eyes or smell the scent of the bath oils he used.

Those things weren’t for him; they were for Aerin, all for him.

Then Cyrus laughed at something Lord Edric had said, and Aerin couldn’t breathe anymore. He cleared his throat and stepped toward them, his head held high and his dark eyes fixed on Edric with the same kind of disdain he used to wear when he’d been so full of corruption that there had been no anger or hatred to feel.

“Aerin, I’m sorry I wandered off; I needed some air, and Lord Edric said he would show me the gardens,” Cryus said, his smile turning real, softer, brighter, and so much warmer than the false happiness he’d been showing before.

Without giving it much thought, Aerin strode forward and met Lord Edric’s eyes. “Leave us; you’ve taken up enough of his time,” he said, to the silent indignation of Cyrus, who seemed to be struggling with what to say.

It wasn’t often that Cyrus was left speechless, and if Aerin wasn’t so filled with anger and jealousy, then maybe he would have had room to feel proud of himself.

Lord Edric appeared ready to argue, but Aerin refused to give him a chance, the same way he refused to let Cyrus be taken or ruined. He raised his hand and nodded pointedly back toward the castle doors, where light was spilling out into the gardens and the sound of the party could still be heard.

“The hero of Morella has more important things than standing here and talking to you, Lord Edric,” he said, which finally seemed to get his point across as Edric’s lip curled back before he took the time to nod toward Cyrus.

“I’ll see you back at the party, I’m sure,” was all he said before he finally obeyed Aerin and walked away, leaving Aerin standing in a cloud of his own jealousy that anyone would take up Cyrus’ time, time that would be better spent with Aerin himself, time that was precious, as he didn’t know how much of it he would get before Cyrus was no longer his.

Silence prevailed for one long moment before Cyrus spoke. “That wasn’t necessary,” he said, looking at Aerin with such obvious disapproval that he almost felt bad for a moment.

Only a moment, though.

“You should stay away from Edric; he’s not as nice as he looks,” he muttered, turning to look over at the castle, where Edric had retreated and was luckily no longer in sight. He must have followed Aerin’s instructions and returned to the party.

Cyrus suddenly stepped in front of him, and Aerin was forced to confront the disapproval he’d been hoping to avoid. “Do you not trust me to figure that out on my own? What did you think was going to happen?” He asked, placing a hand on Aerin’s shoulder and holding him gently in place, as if Aerin would have left, if he would ever leave again. He would stay rooted to the spot as long as Cyrus wanted.

“He was friends with Baldur; years ago they were close, and besides that, you’re-“ Aerin broke off, breathing heavily, his head hanging low so his eyes could focus on the hand that still rested on his shoulder, the gentle weight helping him stay steady and warm even as a cool breeze blew around them.

Quirking a single eyebrow, Cyrus leaned down a little, and Aerin was forced to meet his eyes. “I’m what? Gullible?” He asked, already trying to piece out what Aerin had been about to say, but predictably he was failing, and Aerin should have been content to let him keep wondering, but for some reason he couldn’t.

Before he even knew what he was doing, Aerin was speaking, spilling his fear and anger, every word laced with jealousy and a sort of possessiveness he didn’t know he had in him. “No, you’re mine; you’re mine, and I can’t have you taken away,” he snapped, though as soon as the words left him, he felt bad for how they’d sounded.

To his credit, Cyrus didn’t even react; he just continued to stare at Aerin, clearly waiting for something better—some explanation that made sense and wasn’t just Aerin’s fear of being abandoned.

Cyrus suddenly gripped Aerin by the upper arm and pulled him deeper into the garden, behind another grouping of trees, so no one from the castle would have a chance of seeing them. “If I remember correctly, I’ve never been the one abandoning this relationship; that’s always been you,” he said, and perhaps it was a low blow, but Aerin couldn’t deny its truth.

He had been the one to run before this; he’d been the coward; he couldn’t handle his feelings well enough to keep Cyrus close, but now he was here to stay, and whenever he was determined to stick around, things inevitably fell apart.

“Every friend I ever made was driven away; Baldur got in between every relationship I started to build; I don’t know how he did it, but every time he made them leave,” Aerin said, shrugging his shoulders to break free of Cyrus’ grasp.

He couldn’t stay still when he talked of Baldur; even the mention of his brother set him on edge and put him into a state of such nerves that he simply had to move. Bakdur’s presence used to mean almost certain punches, so sitting down had never been an option; standing still was no better either, so pacing was the easiest.

“And what? Do you think he’s still pulling the strings from beyond the grave?” Cyrus asked as his hand suddenly settled on Aerin’s chin, and he was held in place by slim, cold fingers, pressing indents into his pale cheeks. “Your brother has no power over me; he never did.”

Swallowing thickly, Aerin reached up and grabbed Cyrus’ wrist, pulling the hand from his chin so he could step closer, crowding into Cyrus’ space like it was the most natural thing in the world. “You’re mine; I will not give you up,” he said, his free hand now tangling into the front of Cyrus’ shirt, clutching tightly at the rich fabric.

“No one is asking you to give me up,” Cyrus responded, his cool fingers enclosing slowly around Aerin’s wrist, gently tugging his hand away so the space between them was clear and Cyrus was free to lean down and rest his forehead gently on Aerin’s. “You think Lord Edric will steal me from you?” He chuckled, the notion seeming absurd the longer he considered it.

Aerin made a sound of frustration, and in an act of desperation, he pulled Cyrus closer and pressed their lips together. It wasn’t anything like their other kisses, though that was to be expected, as kissing Cyrus was never the same as it had been the time before.

Cyrus was so easily distracted from his earlier indignation as he grabbed Aerin by the waist and began to walk slowly back. The trees rustled above them, and the sounds of the party swelled for a moment before suddenly Aerin’s back was pressed against a tree, and he could think of nothing else but the hands trapping him there.

A hand snaked into his hair, and Aerin was lost in bliss as Cyrus trailed his lips down across his neck, sending fire skirting across his skin and making him crumble under the anticipation of being further burned alive under Cyrus’ touch.

The kiss broke, and Aerin whined in protest, as he always did, because he’d be happy to continue until he ran out of air. It wasn’t an unpleasant thought to die with Cyrus kissing him.

“Everyone wants you; you know that,” he said, his breath ghosting over Cyrus’ lips as he refused to lean back; he couldn’t bear the thought of stepping away.

Cyrus chuckled softly and shook his head. “I do not know that; I know you want me, and that’s what matters,” he said, pressing another soft kiss to the corner of Aerin’s lips.

“When people are near you, they can’t keep themselves from looking, and I can’t stop myself from wanting to hide you away, because for once I have something that is all mine, and I want to keep it that way." Aerin knew it was probably a bit much, that no one wanted to be kept on such a tight leash, but he couldn’t help the way he felt, the jealousy that tore out of his chest anytime someone made Cyrus laugh.

He wouldn’t have blamed Cyrus if the man decided to leave him, if he fell for the charms of one of his many admirers. Any of them could have given him more than Aerin could offer, but Aerin wouldn’t let go without putting up a fight to keep him.

“I never noticed when people were charmed by me; I’ve always been too busy checking if you were watching,” Cyrus mused, like his words weren’t everything Aerin needed to hear, as if they didn’t fuel every bit of desire and need he had.

Aerin tried to stop the shaking of his hands, but it was no use, and instead he employed the nervous energy as it should be used by pulling Cyrus down into another heated kiss. His fingers fiddled gently with the ties of Cyrus’ silken pants, giving every chance to pull away before he tugged at the fabric and began to open the ties.

“You’re mine,” he whispered again, his hand moving gently along the exposed strip of skin where Cyrus’ shirt had ridden up.

His hand dipped lower, and Cyrus shuddered against him, his forehead coming to rest on Aerin’s shoulder as his breaths began to shake.

“Yours, all yours, Aerin.”

And just like that, Aerin was insane again, driven mad by want and corrupted with possessive emotion that he knew no amount of light could cure. This was here to stay; this longing was never going to fade.

Cyrus was his, only his, and he’d be damned if he let him be taken away.