#pro crossover

[faeriekit]

"Okay." Danny slowly laid the already cold body back onto the table, ready to slide back it into the refuge of cold storage. "Okay. Dead guy. Stay there."

The body didn't move.

"Fantastic. Now. Hang out while I pour the embalming fluid into the pump, alright? It should only be a minute."

And it usually did; working in a funeral home wasn't extremely glamorous, but it paid the bills, and Danny had already been used to the rhyme and rhythm of negotiating death with the public by the time he sent in his mortuary school application. It had been a transition that made sense. And in the end, the degree had only cost him a few extra years post-graduation and a little dig into student loans, and now Danny had a stable 12-8 job and health insurance valid in the state of new jersey.

Today, though, the pump had that decided enough was enough. With a bang and a boom, the pump spat out a cloud of smoke and clunked uncomfortably.

The dead body sat up.

Danny scrambled over to push it back down. "No. We talked about this. Dead people don't move. If you want to stay here and have me put you back together all the time, you have to stay put. Got it?"

Whatever the weird gold-eye corpses were on in Gotham, they at least listened to him on occasion. They weren't ghosts, per se— they never pinged on any of the ghost detection devices Mom and Dad had packed in his going-away-to-college bag— but they were, despite being occasionally animate, perfectly deceased.

Weird. Danny had never gotten used to it. Still, they came in droves, too eager to sit on the top of the basement stairwell and lurk in the corners and stare endlessly at them with their weird, avian eyes, and sometimes they heralded the arrival similarly weird-ass bodies that had lost their heads or their arms or their limbs through the more conventional channels.

"I'm losing too much thread to all y'all coming in all the time," Danny complained to the dead body, who, at the moment, was the only person present to blame. "Stop getting your limbs cut off. This stuff is expensive, you know. It's a specialty order."

The body didn't even have the courtesy to blink. Rude.

"At least let them bury you this time. Every time one of you darts off when my back's turned, my boss thinks I'm stealing corpses. My coworkers think I'm building my own Frankenstein or something."

The corpse neither verbalized nor blinked, but Danny hadn't expected it to; with a sigh, he rolled the corpse back into cold storage, locked its little door (not that locking it in had ever stopped it) and called it quits for the night.

It's not like anyone was paying him for the extra hours anyway.

The whole fic on ao3

[angelofalls]

[OC] Tyrus Titan

Farm boy recognizes Farm boy xD

[art-g0blin-draws]

This poster concept took way more time than i originally planned, but it was 100% worth it.

I cheated a little bit on some elements of it (mainly bowser and the dry bones) but I’m really happy with the final result!

I’ve always been a fan of Luigi’s mansion, and I’ve already done a couple other drawings of my concept of Luigi’s mansion being crossed over with the ghostbusters.

I like the thought of daisy being involved, because if anyone would be absolutely down to help Luigi put the beating on some ghastly ghouls, it would absolutely be her.

I realized though, that the poster size i wanted was outside the dimensions of this picture, so i had to resize some stuff lol, but otherwise, I’m content. This is the original, not-resized version!

[i-am-trans-gwender]

Crossover shippers are the most powerful people. People will complain about people Shipping characters who barely interacted in canon but these mfs ship characters who will most likely never meet.

[seleneprince]

Sorry, but you can't tell me that Cardan "I support women's rights and wrongs" Greenbriar wouldn't be friends with Nesta Archeron.

Cardan, who bullied and harassed his crush because he didn't know how to handle his feelings, who never received an ounce of genuine affection from his family and was severely neglected since he was a baby, going as far to endure brutal punishments from his brother for not "fulfilling the expectations". Cardan, who grew up to believe he was incapable and unworthy of love, drowning himself in alcohol and sex because it allowed to shut his mind off and forget himself.

The same Cardan who wields words like beautifully sharpened weapons, using sarcasm like it's a second skin, who fell in love with the girl who kidnapped, humiliated, manipulated, betrayed and used him for her best interests, only to admire her even more for it instead of feeling intimidated by her. The Cardan who, at first, could only express his love by being crude and mean because he was never taught any other way.

Cardan would take a look at Nesta and find his own twisted reflection on her. And he'll also enjoy her personality, joining her into throwing shade at the IC and supporting her.

Add Jude Duarte to the mix and trust me, they would've made an unstoppable and terrifying trio. Jude is all for power and ambition but she's also compassionate and selfless. You best believe she'll encourage Nesta to make use of her powers and not let anyone step on her.

Basically it would be like this:

Nesta: *explaining her life and what goes on with the Inner Circle*

Jude: Kill them all.

Nesta: No way, I can't do that.

Jude: Fine, I'll kill them.

And also:

Nesta: *glaring at/insulting someone*

Cardan: So, why do we hate this person? I just need the context to mock them properly.

[offtorivendell]

Is an oily residue corrupting Azriel's hypothetical mating bond and making him feel off kilter? Is it related to Valg-type magic?

Disclaimer: this theory is a continuation of a few of my others that I've been too lazy to post until now - first I was going to post it for Elriel Month 2023, then Azriel Week 2023... it never happened - but like everyone else I'm having massive FOMO before HOFAS, so here we finally go, even though I know I've forgotten something lol. As usual, this makes no claims of being accurate, it's just theorising for fun.

A massive thank you goes out to @wingedblooms, @tswaney17, @silverlinedeyes, @psychologynerd, @ladynightcourt3, @cassianfanclub, and anyone else I've forgotten (sorry!) for all of our discussions that finally became this post. Love you guys. 💜

Spoilers: this is a Maasverse post, and draws from the ACOTAR series, CC 1 & 2/HOEAB & HOSAB, and the TOG series. It is CC 3/HOFAS spoiler free, as I'm waiting to read it in its "original English" 🤓 on the 30th of January. Please be respectful of that if engaging in the comments before it's published!

Plenty of people, including @silverlinedeyes, @icedflames and myself, have posted our thoughts on mating bonds in the Maasverse, and this theory builds on those previously established - though again, as yet hypothetical - ideas. Specifically, this post about the use of “oily” throughout the ACOTAR series is recommended reading.

What we do know is that:

Mating bonds contain threads, and so do spells.

Mates are the song/music of the soul, and their laughter is likened to music.

Different fae, and magics, contain different scents, be that personal or regional

First, let's go back to ACOWAR, when Feyre described the Ravens' entrance into the library as being like an off-kilter chord:

I felt it at the same moment she did. The ripple and tremor. Like … like some piece of the world shifted, like some off-kilter chord had been plucked. We turned toward the illuminated path that we’d just taken through the stacks, then to the dark far, far beyond. - ACOWAR, chapter 30

Initially, I had wondered if the King of Hybern had had Jurian use the Harp to infiltrate Velaris, but it was @merymoonbeam (I think) who theorised that the Cauldron might be mimicking the Harp, and maybe not doing the best job of it. Which made me wonder, could it do the same with mate bonds?

He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much. - ACOSF, Azriel's bonus chapter

Looking at her now … She was pale, yes. The vacancy still glazing her features. But he couldn’t breathe as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen. Betrayal, queasy and oily, slid through his veins. He’d said the same to Jesminda once. But even as shame washed through him, the words, the sense chanted, Mine. You are mine, and I am yours. Mate. - ACOWAR, chapter 24

What if the Elucien bond, as either a spell or piss poor Cauldron-Made approximation of a bond, causes Azriel - and maybe Elain, possibly Lucien - nausea when Lucien is around because it's constantly changing, or reverberating over the top of, what remains of a hypothetical Elriel bond?

What if it's making the Elriel bond off-kilter, out of whack, imbalanced?

Does this make Azriel feel sick, nauseous, or simply overwhelmed/overstimulated?

When people are feeling off-balance, for whatever reason, they can feel sick or nauseous. It's one of the symptoms of vertigo, which can be triggered by severe headaches such as migraines. And guess who rubs their temples? Azriel!

Alternatively, certain chords played loudly enough on a string instrument can really mess with your chest - and where do mating bonds attach - if you're standing close enough for them to vibrate through you (at least, they do for me haha). It can be weirdly disconcerting, and I'd imagine that if Azriel or Elain feels something like this, no wonder he describes such severe discomfort that he needs to leave, and she shrinks away from Lucien, the unintentional cause of her pain.

Same with the smell; if the magic of the Cauldron, in whatever way, is messing with the smell that should be there? Contaminating it? Unbearable.

Is this too crack for you? Well, let's get even crazier.

I have previously suggested that the Cauldron's actions throughout the series could be tracked, in part, by SJM describing a feeling or quality as “oily,” and I've also wondered if the dark maker of the Cauldron - Koschei? - could have hijacked it in some way, as the Book of Breathings being made from leftover iron gave me “One Ring” vibes. I still stand by that, but with a clarification (and here is where the TOG and CC spoilers come in, FYI). I think it's only half of the magic belonging to the Cauldron that is "oily":

Throughout TOG, the Valg are heavily associated with “oiliness,” in terms of their blood and magic. The smell “reeks” and always results in the involved characters experiencing extreme revulsion, including headaches. Sound familiar?

Wyrdstone has an oily, hideous aftertaste.

Even in CC 1/HOEAB, Danika was described as oily when she came into Griffin Antiques.

Celaena looked at the sealed door, her stomach turning. A half-dried pool of blood lay at the base of the door, so dark it looked like oil. She crouched, swiping a finger through the puddle. She sniffed at it, almost gagged at the reek, and then rubbed her finger against the pad of her thumb. It felt as oily as it looked. - COM, chapter 45

“What the hell is that?” Rowan demanded, kneeling beside her, sniffing her outstretched hand. He jerked back, snarling. “That’s not dirt.” No, it wasn’t. It was blacker than night, and reeked just as badly as it had the first time she’d smelled it, in the catacombs beneath the library, an obsidian, oily pool of blood. Slightly different from that other, horrific smell that loitered around this place, but similar. So similar to— “This isn’t possible,” she said, jolting to her feet. “This—this—this—” She paced, if only to keep from shaking. “I’m wrong. I have to be wrong.” There had been so many cells in that forgotten dungeon beneath the library, beneath the king’s Wyrdstone clock tower. The creature she’d encountered there had possessed a human heart. It had been left, she’d suspected, because of some defect. What if … what if the perfected ones had been moved elsewhere? What if they were now … ready? - HOF, chapter 45

The overseer roared, thrashing as her magic swept into him, melded with him. But there was nothing inside to grab on to. No darkness to burn out, no remaining ember to breathe life into. Only— Aelin reeled back, magic vanishing and knees buckling as if struck. Her head gave a throb, and nausea roiled in her gut. She knew that feeling—that taste. Iron. As if the man’s core was made of it. And that oily, hideous aftertaste … Wyrdstone. The demon inside the overseer let out a choked laugh. “What are collars and rings compared to a solid heart? A heart of iron and Wyrdstone, to replace the coward’s heart beating within.” - EOS, chapter 15

* Side note, it's giving Tamlin and his stone heart.

Danika didn’t just look like she’d been rootling through the garbage. She smelled like it, too. Wisps of her silvery blond hair—normally a straight, silken sheet—curled from her tight, long braid, the streaks of amethyst, sapphire, and rose splattered with some dark, oily substance that reeked of metal and ammonia. - CC HOEAB, chapter 1

The Hind held Ruhn’s gaze as the game began. She was the spitting image of Luna, with her upswept chignon, the regal angle of her neck and jaw. As coldly serene as the moon. All she needed was a pack of hunting hounds at her side— And she had them, in her dreadwolves. How had someone so young risen in the ranks so swiftly, gained such notoriety and power? No wonder she left a trail of blood behind her. “Careful now,” the Harpy said with that oily smile. “The Hammer doesn’t share.” The Hind’s lips curved upward. “No, he doesn’t.” - CC HOSAB, chapter 33

I think the dark maker of the Cauldron could have been Valg, whether that's Koschei or someone else I don't know though Koschei currently makes the most sense. I also don't know when the dark maker would have had the chance to influence the Cauldron; was it always made from dark and light, or - as @fawnandshadows theorised a while back - did Koschei bastardise it after the fact? Where the Valg would fit in with the Daglan and the Asteri is also a mystery, though my current train of thought is that they could be family names or allegiances, like different clans of the same parasitical species, thanks to the description of Danika in HOEAB.

But, back to Azriel and his severe reaction to the Elucien bond.

I know I'm not the only one who wonders at the very Valg-ish themes with which Rhys and Azriel's powers have been described - maybe one day I'll post my thoughts about the possible link between lightsingers, shadowsingers, daemati and the Valg (but it is not this day lol) - and how that may have come about. For example, are the Valg interwoven, genetically, with the Avallen people, or is it because the Princes of Hel are also involved, and have similar magics? Are the Princes of Hel a similar species as the Valg, Asteri and Daglan, or completely different? Ugh, let's stop this spiral here.

Oily: the obvious train of thought being that oily things are slippery, which can lead to an imbalance… ie. becoming off-kilter.

Sounds like Azriel could be suffering from some sort of vertigo, of which symptoms can include nausea; severe headaches, such as migraines, may trigger an episode… and who rubs his temples enough that Elain noticed it?

Maybe Azriel can sense the corruption in the bond, either the current Elucien bond, or the hypothetical original bond between Elain and himself; if like calls to like, and his shadows are Valg-ish, maybe it is because his OG bond was fucked with. So, what if:

Azriel's shadows can slip away from spells and binding magic (Slippery > oily > Valg).

The guards at the prison know what he is.

Valg magic making Azriel nauseous and Elain sourcing/making a healer's powder for him? It's giving Chaol and Yrene. Especially since Elain (and Mor) make his shadows brighten.

So, we have in-text mentions of Azriel feeling overwhelmed due to the proximity of the Elucien bond, as well as Elain shrinking from Lucien - an action that parallels Azriel hanging out in the doorway, and even Lucien retreating to the human lands, if he feels any bond-related discomfort around Elain. But what about his initial response to seeing Elain, and thinking she was the most beautiful female he'd ever seen? The quote that sent me down the “oily” rabbit hole to begin with?

Looking at her now … She was pale, yes. The vacancy still glazing her features. But he couldn’t breathe as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen. Betrayal, queasy and oily, slid through his veins. He’d said the same to Jesminda once. But even as shame washed through him, the words, the sense chanted, Mine. You are mine, and I am yours. Mate. - ACOWAR, chapter 24

Well, Aelin felt oily disgust at the thought of marrying someone who wasn't Rowan:

“There are no allies,” Darrow said. “Unless Her Highness decides to be useful and gain us men and arms through marriage”—a sharp glance at Rowan—“we are alone.” Aelin debated revealing what she knew, the money she’d schemed and killed to attain, but— Something cold and oily clanged through her. Marriage to a foreign king or prince or emperor. Would this be the cost? Not just in blood shed, but in dreams yielded? To be a princess eternal, but never a queen? To fight with not just magic, but the other power in her blood: royalty. She could not look at Rowan, could not face those pine-green eyes without being sick. - EOS, chapter 5

This example from Aelin could describe Azriel and Elain’s potential future if Elain accepted a theoretically Cauldron spelled bond to Lucien, but also for Lucien and Jesminda, if they were originally true or fated mates before she was murdered.

Some final thoughts:

We know from TOG that healing light is known as the Valg executioner. In a parallel to Yrene killing Erawan with her healing light in KOA, Elain killed the King of Hybern - who I suspect was possessed or assisted by a Valg, as Feyre described his magic as a “galaxy” in his palms - with Truth-Teller, which had recently devoured the (her?) sunlight; does this mean that Elain could heal or purify Valg possessed things, with or without the magical, Made dagger? Could this be extrapolated to Azriel's magic, the Dread Trove, or even the Cauldron (possibly with Feyre and Nesta for the bigger ticket items)?

If the Asteri are the same species as the Valg, and the Valg somehow had a hand in making or twisting the Cauldron, it could follow that they used the Cauldron to create offspring bonds for a more powerful food source. If this pans out then Elain, bright light, could hypothetically heal the Cauldron. Maybe that is why Azriel describes her with purity language? Not because SJM wants to display Azriel's apparently toxic thoughts about her (🙄), but because she, along with her sisters, will be his/their salvation? Rhys once said as much to Feyre!

@mrspettyferr has suggested that Azriel's shadows ability to hide him from binding magic - see: the High Lord's meeting in ACOWAR - could have prevented his true bond from snapping with Elain when she came out of the Cauldron. This could be supported by any Valg/shadow link.

Thank you for reading! Please don't mention any CC HOFAS spoilers in the comments or reblogs until after it has been officially published. 💜

[starlightazriel]

Vanserras Girl

au, millers girl/acotar crossover (lucien)

a/n: just me messing around hehe don't judge me cus im blushing i maybe got a lil carried away

warnings: 18+ filthy smut (washing my sins away), dom lucien lowkey lol, squirting, cherry popping, unprotected sex, student/teacher, big age gap (18&40), time jumps, infidelity (affair), home wrecking, no happy ending,

masterlist

"Mr. Vanserra," he whirled at the voice, class didn't start for an hour. He raised his eyebrows, his eyes narrowing at the young woman standing before him, her books and binders across her chest. His eyes couldn't help but flick down to her pouty lips. And she, she was looking at him, a hint of a smile behind her eyes.

"Class doesn't start for another hour," he clears his throat, his eye narrowing toward her, her lips parted slightly as she took in the sight of the older man, something thrummed deep within her, his eye, one of them was fake, it was a solid golden color and the other eye was the most beautiful and unique russet color she had ever seen. His hair was fiery, a few grey hairs spread throughout but mostly just a fiery red. He was one of the most unique, (dare she say, for the age gap and the wedding band on his finger,) most handsome rugged men she had ever seen. And his hands, those large hands, long fingers that she knew he once used to write epic tales of lust and sex. Her throat bobs as she composes herself.

"I know," she says coolly, noting the way that he seemed to have to force his eyes to her face, he just stared seeming a little stunned. "Ive heard about your lectures," she says, her tone almost bored sounding, she dropped her stuff onto the desk that was front and center, "and I've read your work," she leaves her stuff walking up to the desk until it was the only thing still separating them. He knew full well how absolutely smutty the books he had written were, heat seemed to shoot through him at the thought of this young girl laying in her bed, feet kicked up, cheeks flushed as she read the absolute filth he had produced in his early days of writing. A tinge of shame hit the pit of his stomach as he remembered this young woman was young enough to be his daughter. He didn't like this, he didn't like the way that the air seemed to be hot and thick between them, he didn't like that she seemed to have control over the situation. "I wanted to introduce myself, your star student of the semester, Cairo Sweet," she extends her hand out for a shake, his eyebrow was still quirked, he forced away a laugh at the sheer poetry of even her name. Cairo Sweet.

He extends his hand, noting the way her lips part slightly when their hands touched, his wedding band seemed to burn on his finger. "You've read my work?" he asks as he pulls his hand from hers a hint of doubt in his words, brows slightly risen.

"Red is my favorite, the rawness of it, the passion, the complete disregard for literary rules, I mean, its art," she says as if it was obvious, her eyes bore into him, her gaze intense, it seemed to stir something in him, something he hadn't felt for a long time. Red was the most filthy book he had written, dedicated to his wife Beatrice, about the passions they once had shared together, before they grew old and work got in the way. Lucien clears his throat, seeming to snap out of the daze.

"Flattery will not earn you an A in this class Miss Sweet," he says, matching her cool tone from earlier, she only smirks and shrugs, turning on her heel, he couldn't help but watch after her. "Come on Cairo," Winnie drawls from the door way, he knew her from last year, "lets go before they run outta chicken biscuits," she giggles softly, seeing her stuff by the entrance of the class room. Lucien nods to Winnie as a form of greeting she beams back at him before linking her arm with Cairos, who looks over her shoulder one last time, "See you later, Mr. Vanserra," she uses that same cool tone from earlier as Winnie drags her away, she eventually peels her eyes away.

When they are gone, the red book binding catches his eye, its buried in with her other things and a small smirk spreads across his lips as he advances toward her things. He hesitantly pulls the book out, his fingers gently stroking the binding, sure enough Red was printed over the front of the hard cover in gold lettering L. Vanserra, in smaller lettering at the bottom. He opened the book, noting that it was a library copy, and there was one name written on the borrow card, three times, Cairo Sweet. For my beloved Beatrice was printed on the first page, how in love they once had been, he shakes his head. "Fan girling over yourself again? Pining for those days as a young writer, when you did nothing but wet your willy and sit at a computer?" Luciens eyes lift to see Tamlin there, leaning against a desk, his coach clipboard tucked under an arm, two coffees in hand, one he handed to Lucien who had snapped the book shut now to take his coffee.

"This is a students, she took it out from the library," he shook his head in awe before tucking the book exactly where he had found it.

"Look at you Mr. V, maybe you still got a chance to go big,"

-

"Winnie, he's married," Cairo huffs out softly, taking the swig out of the bottle of wine they had stole from Winnies parent's wine cabinet. "My favorite book, is dedicated to his wife," they were in Winnies room, Cairo was on the floor, leaned up against the bed, her head rest against it and Winnie was laying across the bed, her head hanging down slightly near Cairos, long hair cascading down to the floor.

"We both see the way he looks at you Cairo," she giggles softly and rolls onto her stomach, reaching down for the bottle. "Mrs. Vanserra has to be tired, and old, and boring now, if she wasn't, he wouldn't look at you like he wanted to eat you up," Winnie curled a piece of Cairos hair around her finger, Cairo swatted her away.

"Its insane Winnie, its just a pointless crush, its going nowhere," it was true, it was a pointless crush, he was more than double her age, married, an accomplished writer (at least in her eyes), a teacher... She didn't think he could be any more out of reach for her. It didnt stop her from fantasizing about him though, it didnt stop her from reading his books late at night, rubbing and fingering her soaking wet virgin pussy as she imagined what it would feel like to have his hands on her, his mouth, his cock that he described in detail in the book that was dedicated to his wife. She would dry hump the couch cushion, placing the corner so it rubbed deliciously on her clit, and she would scream out into the empty manor her parents had left her in while they traveled across the country. Last night she had done this, it was becoming one of her favorite afterschool activities, her eyes would squeeze shut, she would twist and pull at her nipples, imagining how Mr. Vanserra would do it. Heat pooled between her legs at the thought, her cheeks burned.

"I don't know about you, Cairo, but when I lose my virginity..." Winnie trailed off, looking at Cairo now, biting her lip softly. "I want a man, not these baby-dick boys we are surrounded by, someone who can actually make me cum, someone like coach Tam," she says and giggles softly, Cairo blushes again, shaking her head. "Again, Ive seen the way Mr. V looks at you, he wants you and all those big brains in there, put in a little effort and I bet you can get him to Lovell hill, seduce him," she smirks and sits up on her bed, Cairo looks up at her and shakes her head.

"You're crazy Winnie," she laughs but her words were sticking. She couldn't stop thinking about Mr. Vanserra what it would feel like for him to take her. She couldn't do that could she? Have sex with a married man? Someone who was a teacher at that... It wasn't like her parents were around to give a fuck. It was also clear that Mr. Vanserra had taken a special interest in her, he would give her books on the side to read, granted they were nothing like the smut filled novels that he had written in his prime. One of them had been a romance, she had over thought that for days, and read it twice.

-

"Mr. Vanserra," she entered the class room at the end of the day, her brows drawing together slightly in confusion. He was rushing, packing all his things quickly. "I finished my midterm assignment," she says softly, seductively, Winnie had taught her that.

Lucien stops, turning to look at her, he swallows hard. The way she was dressed... His eye involuntarily roamed over her, it was Friday, and he wondered if she had plans. If she was dressed like that for a reason. Her black skirt was short, tight, complimented with a white tank top, nipples peaked and on display for anyone to see, her gorgeous black waves framing around her face in every direction. He cleared his throat, willing all of the blood not to rush between his legs and swell up his cock. "Cairo," he says softly, and her lips twitch, she's clutching a paper in her hand, his eye drifts to it and then back up at hers. "Thanks for dropping it by, you could have emailed it," he takes the paper, not even giving it a once over, he was in too much of a rush for that.

"Well, it's a little..." She trailed off, trying to catch his stare again. "Sensitive," she says slowly, he swallowed hard, his gaze flicking back up to hers, he wondered how sensitive she was.

"I-Cairo I've got to go," his throat felt dry, he noticed her face fall. "Sorry, I'm going out of town with my wife this weekend. It's a last minute thing, I'll get back to you as soon as I can," he lifts the paper up in his hand as if to gesture to it, "Have a good weekend Ms. Sweet," he nods, she folded her arms over her chest, looking disappointed. He didn't have time for it, this was the first trip that Beatrice and him were going on in years.

"Yup, you too," she muttered before she exiting the classroom, he noted her cheeks burning bright red, he watched after her for a second before shaking it off.

When Lucien arrived back at home, he expected Beatrice to be packed and ready to catch their flight. Instead he was greeted with a cigarette smoke filled room, Beatrice hammering away on her lap top as usual, not dressed, not packed... Hair pinned up and she was wearing her bathrobe as usual. She was on the phone, on a work call, as usual... He wasn't even able to ask or get a hello out before she was explaining.

"Sorry Lu, she can't do anything without me," she sips from her glass, of amber liquid. Fucking, useless, alcoholic bi- He stopped himself, cutting his own thoughts off.

"Really Bets?" He swallows hard, his hand tightening around the handle of his bag, his eyes narrowing at his wife. She looks up for only a split second.

"Gonna have to wait," she says, her eyes trained on the computer screen. He should have known. He should have expected this. His love for Beatrice had once been enough to write a novel about it. The two of them could barely even get along for a week now. He loved her, of course he did, she was his wife, but there was no passion left. They rarely had sex anymore, she hadn't sucked him off in over a year, they didn't go on dates, or have dinner together... Shit, they rarely spoke to each other.

"What else is new, really? You can forget it," his shoulders slumping as he takes a seat in the chair across from his wife and opening his own laptop up. He was seething, his ears feeling hot, jaw flexing. She stared back at him for a second before looking back to her own work, trying to focus on it.

"Well I can't work like this Lu," Beatrice stared across the long table at him, her eyes narrowing.

"Alright then," he rises to his feet quickly, collecting all of his things and tucking them under his arm. "Work alone then," her mouth fell open in surprise as she watched her husband leave, the door slamming behind him. Lucien settled into his desk in his private little work room shed outside, now... With the entire weekend... He figured he may as well look over Cairos midterm paper.

Lucien's mouth went dry at the header at the top of the paper.

'For Mr. L. Vanserra, Love Cairo Sweet'

His mouth popped open slightly, his heart beating faster as he continued down the page.

'Charlie watched him every day.

Mr. Leo Valentine. English teacher, accomplished author, sexiest man she had ever seen.

She watched the way he held a half broken chalk stick in his long tan fingers. Watched the way the muscles rippled underneath his thin white button ups. Watched the way his lips would curl into half a smirk when he would call on her in class and she would say something so smart it surprised him. Watched the way he looked at her, the way he would drink her in, his eyes swimming with lust and desire. Watched him want her just as much as she wanted him. Watched the way that his cock twitched against the fabric of his pants and he would shift nervously, trying to adjust himself without her noticing when they were alone in his classroom after school.'

Lucien coughed, nearly spitting out his coffee, his cheeks heated, his cock thrummed in his pants, he pictured her. He pictured Cairo. He swallowed hard, nerves settling at the realization that this was about them.

'Charlie needed him. She was sick of sitting back and watching him. Sick of the ache between her legs, the need for him that soaked through her panties every day. Sick of running home after school every day to finger fuck herself into oblivion on the sofa in her living room. Sick of not knowing what it felt like to have a man fuck her virgin cunt. She knew Mr. Valentine was the type of man to suck a woman's soul right out of her pussy, and she wanted him to know she wasn't just some little girl, that she was a woman who needed her soul sucked and her cherry popped.'

Lucien shivered, his fingers shook lightly as he reached down and unzipped his pants, pulling his cock free, it slapped his clothed stomach, his thick long length reaching his belly button. He grunted quietly, wrapping his large hand around his thick throbbing cock.

'When the end of the school day came, she knew everyone would rush out the doors after a long week of torturous bore, it was Friday. So naturally, everyone wanted to go home, teachers included. She knew she had her chance, and she wore a dress that day. A little white dress, no panties, and as she walked to his classroom, she felt the juices of her virgin cunt running down and tickling the insides of her thighs, hot and wet. Charlie needed him.'

A bead of sweat formed on Lucien's brow, he pictured her, pictured Cairo. Her small frame, little perky tits, imagined what the color of her nipples would be, imagined her soaking wet, sitting there across from him in class at her desk that was so conveniently in front of his. His breathing was heavy, fingers shaking as he pumped them around his thick cock, leaking with precum, he wanted to fuck her so bad. He wanted her pussy in front of him immediately, he couldn't remember the last time he lusted for someone like this.

'She entered the classroom with ease, she wasnt nervous anymore, the need to feel him against her outweighed any rational thoughts or reservations she may have about what was about to happen. Mr. Valentine looked up, he lifted his eyes to meet hers, his lips parted, he needed her just as bad. She knew it, she could see it, she could feel it between them. That thick band of tension like a string between them connected to their most intimate parts. He stood straighter, his shoulders broadening as he looked down at her, watching her closely as she sat upon her desk and spread her legs wide open, revealing her dripping wet virgin cunt ready for him to claim-"

Lucien gasped, the paper crinkling slightly in his hand, the other furiously nursing his cock, his thick cum spilling over his hand and shirt.

He sat there for a moment, letting the shame of what he had just done set in for a moment, he couldn't stomach reading another line of her supposed midterm? He almost scoffed aloud. It was pure pornography. He rose to his feet, his shame suddenly turning to anger. He quickly cleaned himself, before folding the papers up and shoving them in his pocket. Determined, more than ever now to put an end to this girls fantasy once and for all. He bent over, still standing and logged into the school database, it didnt take long to find her address. Lovell Hill. He almost scoffed again, his jaw flexed, of all of the bullshit poetic places for her to live.

He planned to confront her parents, tell them that their daughter took school as nothing but a joke and that he would fail her if she couldn't fix her behavior. Obviously, he knew house calls from an English teacher weren't exactly appropriate but he wasnt thinking rationally at all. Besides, he was sure her parents wouldn't want this to get back to the principal anyway.

"Where are you going?" Beatrice asks in slurred speech as Lucien enters the back door in a hurry, heading for the bowl of keys they kept by the door.

"Work related incident," Lucien says, quickly checking his appearance in the mirror after he fished his set of car keys from the bowl.

"Is it? Or is it a star student related incident?" Luciens ears heat at her insinuation, his jaw flexing, but he doesn't turn around.

"Sober up Bets," is his only reply before leaving without giving her anything more than a slam of the front door.

The drive up the winding country roads is anything but relaxing or peaceful. Luciens palms were sweaty, Cairos midterm assignment felt like it was burning a hole through his pocket. His throat was dry, his head spinning with the words he had read and just got himself off to.

He took the path up to the manors front door, his feet felt heavier with each step. He swallowed once more taking the last steps up and using the knocker twice, sound seeming to echo around him.

"Mr. V?" She masks pure elation with surprise, her pouty lips parting as she looked up at him, he swallowed, forcing himself to keep his eye on hers. That was one thing that intrigued him, the way she could stare into his eyes, not perturbed by the golden one he wore. He could see her exposed skin, feel the air get hot and thick between them.

"Cairo," he says shortly in way of greeting. "Where are your parents? Id like to speak with them," he manages, her lips curl in a half smirk and she steps aside.

"Come in," she says so sweetly, her eyes drinking him in, every last bit of him. He felt his cock swell, his ears becoming hot.

"I think its best if you go get your parents and I stay right here," he responds, trying his best to keep his voice even, trying his best to pretend like he hadn't just been touching himself at the thought of her underneath him.

"Well then you'll be disappointed to learn they aren't here, they are off traveling somewhere, Dubai? I think, this month," she plays with her hair, he can't stop himself from following the movements, her breasts peeked out from the silky white slip she wore, his cock throbbed, ached against his pants. And her parents weren't here, alarm bells rung in his head, he knew he had to go.

"I can't accept your mid term, Im going to have to fail you if you don't rewrite it by next Friday," he blurted, noting the way she brushed her hard nipple when she tossed her hair behind her shoulder.

"That's bullshit," she smirks, sensing the hold she had on him, she leans against the door frame, popping her hip to expose more skin.

"Its pornography, its filthy disgusting smut and its not appropriate at all for school and you could be suspended for this and I don't know if I gave you the wrong idea or-"

"You want to fuck me," she interrupts him, staring back at him, so confident, so sure. He swallowed, his whole body feeling tight, his jaw flexed as he stared back at her, stunned into silence, fighting every male instinct in his body. "You want to fuck my virgin pussy, you want to see the way my tits bounce, watch your cock disappear in my little wet untouched pussy, see the way my untainted body reacts to your expertise..." She trails off, her breathing heavy, cheeks pink, eyes dipping down to the massive bulge in his pants. "That is unless everything you wrote in those books was bullshit," she breathes out, as if it was a challenge.

"Cairo," he warns, but hes already inching closer, as if there was really an invisible band pulling them together.

"Please, I've been fucking myself for months," she's begging now, that confident burn still in her eyes, Winnie promised, she promised it would work and now it was. He was here, and he was going to fuck her.

Lucien closes the distance, grabbing her chin in his strong fingers. "Youre a bad girl, aren't you?" all logic has left his mind, the wedding band forgotten, his teaching job, forgotten, he just needed her. He needed to fuck her. She whimpers in response, tilting her head, her body melting under his touch. He swallows hard, the pressure of his cock in his pants becoming unbearable but he needed to taste her. The front door was still wide open, the screen had slammed shut behind him but the last of the evening sun poked through, leaving a glow in the room. His eyes were dark as he stared down at her, months of pent up sexual tension like a thick cloud around them. "You'll do something for me first, since you wanted this so bad," his voice is a near growl as he sinks onto the sofa, discarding his shirt in the process, she gasps softly at the sight of him, her eyes were hazy with disbelief as she watches his long tan cock slap his stomach with a small thud with the weight of it.

"Yes Mr. Vanserra," she whispers, before she pulls the dress over her head, her slightly dark nipples in contrast with her milky white skin made his mouth water. He was dying to bite them, to hear her shriek with pain and pleasure.

"Your always talking, its time for you to learn how to do something else with that mouth," his voice was low and husky, the age lines by his eyes crinkling in the slightest as he smirked down at her. He guided her, held the back of her hair and pushed that pretty little mouth onto his cock, moaning a long sigh of relief at the warm wet feeling. "Good girl," he grunted softly, pushing her down and pulling her back up again, watching her gag on his large size, a few small tears escaping as she moaned around his cock. It felt so damn good, her little mouth barely being able to go over half of him, the sight was magnificent. It was almost too much for him, the thrill after not having done anything like this in so many years, he almost came right there in her mouth.

"Your turn," he roughly pulled her head from him, she moaned again, looking up at him with wide, lust clouded eyes. Lucien pulled her up from the floor, dropping to his knees when she had replaced his seat on the couch. He spread her legs wide and pulled her to the edge of the couch, her pussy matched the color of her nipples, it was glistening, dripping, so wet that it trailed down her cunt and gathered in the pucker of her ass. His mouth watered, he knew he would have to write every second of this down. Forbidden fruit waiting to be completely devoured. "Play with your nipples," he commands, his voice so gravelly it sent shockwaves through her bones. "Twist them, pull on them, don't stop until I say you stop," he breathed before curling his strong fingers around her ankles, spreading her legs so deliciously wide that her pussy throbbed, begging to be touched, to be licked and sucked, she moaned, obediently beginning to tug at her breasts, her hips squirming.

Lucien bent his head down, slowly blowing cool air onto her hot glistening sex, her ankles pinned to the couch, his grip not loosening in the slightest as her body jerked beneath him. "Stay still," he commands softly, shaking his head softly and blowing over her wet pussy again, she whimpers in response her sex throbbing with need.

"Please," she whimpers again, he moves closer, slowly dragging the tip of his tongue in a circle all around her pussy, everywhere except where she needed him most. He chuckled softly at her moans, her body shook with anticipation. He dipped his tongue down into the pucker of her ass next, lapping up the wetness that gathered there. She cried out as he slid his tongue up, flicking it again and again over the sensitive skin between her pussy and her ass. "Oh yes," she's nearly screaming now, the sound makes him moan, motivates him to give her even more pleasure.

He licks a long stripe between each of her folds, deliciously pointing the tip of his tongue, the taste of her had his head spinning, had him wanting to bury his face in her pussy and shake his head like a dog. Not yet, more teasing. She was reeling, her body trembling, she could barely continue playing with her nipples, but she wanted to obey him, so she willed herself to keep going, twisting them and pinching them between her fingers. Her orgasm threatened to release with every single touch of his mouth against her pussy, she was buzzing with pleasure, shaking with it. He opens his mouth, sucking her swollen lips into his mouth, sucking every last drop of her arousal off of them. She screamed, her hips bucking into him and he pulled away with a soft tsk, he didnt want her to cum just yet.

He flattened his tongue, licking over her sensitive swollen clit, she whimpered again, trying to press herself into him to get any more friction she could. "You want to cum?" he growled softly against her pussy, she only whimpered in response, her legs trembling. He placed his mouth on her clit sucking her into his mouth and shaking his head between her legs until she was squirting all over him, her screams of pleasure filling the empty house. "Good girl," he moaned before licking her softly as she came down from her release. He flipped her over then, propping her against the back of the couch and he slapped her ass, hard, leaving a red hand print there. "This is what you wanted?" he asks, his voice gravelly, her body jerks as he slaps her again, a small plea leaving her lips.

Lucien doesn't waste any more time, he grips her hip with one hand and guides his massive cock against her small tight opening. He groans lowly, slowly sliding in, inch by inch as he feels her soaking wet virgin cunt stretch around him. Cairo screams at the feeling of him filling her up, her toes curling as he slams his cock deep inside her again and again. Her head falls back against his shoulder as he moves her up and down again and again, her body shakes, the feeling of his cock rubbing her g-spot over and over again making her cum again. She pants, shakes against him, moaning again, squirming as he fills her pussy up with his cum and continues thrusting as they ride their orgasms out together.

She collapses against the couch, giggling and mumbling something about how he wasnt bullshitting.

Hes over her, his hand on the back of the couch, staring down at her as the realization of what hes done sinks in. He fucked a student. A student. He cheated on Beatrice. On his wife.

He swallows the lump forming in his throat, rushing to put his clothing on. She sits up now, pulling the throw blanket from the couch over her chest. "Lucien?" she asks, his eyes widen in surprise at the use of his first name, his eyes finding hers. He paled, the look on her face, the adoration in her eyes. What the fuck had he done? "Where are you going?" hes frozen, dressed now, staring down at her, standing a few feet from the couch.

"Mr. Vanserra," he corrected, confusion flashed in her face, then hurt, then anger. "Cairo, this can never happen again," he swallowed hard, her midterm paper still burned a hole in his pocket. "This will never happen again," he emphasized. "Im married, Im happily married, I am your teacher, I could lose my job for this- You don't understand.. This- This was a mistake I- I never should have came here-" he was rambling, the ramifications of the situation sinking in with each waking second.

"A mistake?" her voice cracked, her grip on the blanket tightening as she stared up at him. She had just lost her virginity. She had been so sure it was right, it had felt so right. Why wasnt he admitting that? "You know you feel something! You know there is something between us! I felt it! You felt it," her voice was uneven, tears threatened to spill. He swallowed, his jaw flexed. You are the adult. End this. Do not give in.

"Cairo," he said slowly, his throat bobbing again. "This is a fantasy, this is not real life, this is my fault. I'm the adult here and I- I take full responsibility for everything that happened and Im sorry- But this will not happen again, it ends here and-"

She didnt hear anything else after that, she watched blankly, numbly as he left. Didnt say another single word to him, watched him go, with his tail between his legs. Ashamed of what they had done, ashamed of her.

She blamed it on her naivety, her daddy issues, her sick fascination with forbidden love.

A novel, forbidden love, betrayal, heartbreak, the loss of innocence.

And she wouldn't feel bad when he lost his job, when his beloved Beatrice left him.

Mr. Valentine

C. Sweet

Red hard cover binding, gold lettering.

Inside cover, For my beloved, Lucien.

-

a/n: definitely hot in here, very quickly proof read

hehe i hope it was worth the wait @scorpioriesling @cynthiesjmxazrielslover

[acourtofquietdreamers]

After all of this Guilty as Sin?/Elriel fathoming, no one can convince me Elain isn’t also fantasizing about Az at night. It made me think of this scene:

What if Elain had a spicy dream about Az the night before and that’s why she quickly looked away from him?! I could see her being all bashful having to face him knowing she’s seen him do dirty things to her in her mind 🫣

[very-small-flower]

My toxic trait is that if the fan art is compelling enough I will ship it.

[purvurs]

i havent watched the new season yet

[faeriekit]

#i'm very pro danny accidentally adopts a whole bunch of talons previous installments

*

The next day, the body was back.

The green was gone from its eyes, but the awareness wasn't; it spent about an hour watching people go around outside Danny's apartment, which was new behavior. None of the corpses that shadowed him had shown any interest in garden-variety humans before. Now it sat at the window and watched families come home from school or head to their afternoon shifts.

That went into Danny's notes.

After that hour, it taught itself to flush the toilet repeatedly, rearranged the contents of Danny's half-assed linen closet (again) and then stood hovering over the safe where Danny had stashed the ectoplasm.

"...Okay," said Danny.

The dead body croaked. It was a new sound, but there was no context for it. Danny just kind of...wrote it down and hoped for the best.

The day after, Danny woke up at a very reasonable ten forty eight in the morning to find stray corpses feeding each other spoonfuls of ectoplasm in the kitchen.

At that point he kind of had to throw out the notes on how much each one was dosed with, because what the fuck.

"Really?!" Danny shouted, spooking the bodies into fleeing behind chairs and doors and back into his closet again. The only one that didn't flee was Danny's ringmaster corpse of the hour, of course. "You really couldn't wait??"

It stuck out a withered black tongue out at the mortician, who was, really, the victim in all of this. A victim to his parents' whims and a victim to the dead people who followed him around all the time.

This was how Danny found out that, when it doubt, the corpses could just tear through solid steel if they were motivated enough. The finger-marks were so deep and so embedded that they actually looked more like rough claws in the metal.

Great.

Danny ordered a new locking cage for the fridge on Prime and darted off to work. One of his regulars was on the table, though, so Danny just ended up doing what he would have at home— sewing up a gash in its neck and reattaching dead fingers back onto dead stumps.

On the third day, in which four of Danny's frequent fliers had learned from the first how to flush the toilet (and therefore raise the water bill immensely) Danny got a ring from a dark voice he (almost) recognized.

"Is he here?"

Danny squinted, jerking the phone further under his ear as he whipped up some scrambled eggs. The dead girl leaning over his shoulder leaned a little closer to watch the egg froth up. "Is who here? Who is this?"

"This is Batman. Is— the body requisitioned from your facility currently at your place of residence?"

Danny fully let go of the whisk. It landed haphazardly in the glass bowl he'd been stirring in. "What on Earth is a Batman?" he asked, incredulous.

"I visited your workplace previously."

Oh! "Yeah, the cop's friend. I remember now." Danny pulled the whisk out of the liquid eggs and held it out to the body. The unusually animate cadaver mostly prodded the whisk wires and paid no attention to him. "No one's here but me, though. Not that it's your business...?"

"And there are no non-living bodies currently in your apartment?"

Danny ignored the flushing noise in the other room. "I don't know, dude. They practically live in the walls at this point. Don't come over unless you have a warrant."

The call ended with a click.

His omelette turned out amazing, by the way. In case you were wondering.

On the fourth day, the ectoplasm was gone, because the corpses had apparently all taught each other how to lockpick the container in the fridge.

"Okay, some of that was meant to be my dinner. No more lotion at the funeral home now, okay? Now you all can be ashy forever. I'm so serious," Danny complained to the only visible dead person in the room.

The dead person held up a cracked egg. It was probably a gesture of peace, but now there was egg on his vinyl flooring to deal with. And. It wasn't exactly all that comforting in the end.

On the fifth day, Danny awoke to the sensation of a hand jamming itself through his neck until it punched into the mattress beneath him.

Fuck.

[i-am-cholera]

mr peanutbutter my beloved

[jmoonjones]

Who knew the Dread Trove would have so many uses?!

Nesta decides to find some answers about plot holes, story moments worthy of side-eye, and her own character arc.

She also has a list of queries from the others including Feyre’s thoughts about her pregnancy journey, and Lucien asking if he did anything to piss her off since his character arc has been quite unfairly mean to him

[ataraxiasflame]

In doing some research for my fic, I encountered a few names from different SJM books that seem to be derived from similar origins and I went on a bit of a trip trying to consider all the connections:

When researching some information regarding the inspiration for Helion (the God Helios) I discovered that Helios’s mother is called Theia and his sister is called Selene. Theia, Helios and Selene are all connected through solar elements like light, the sun and the moon.

If we recall from HOFAS, Silene was Theia’s second daughter who Azriel also claims looked like Rhys’s sister. We also know that she too was able to wield her mother’s Starborn powers (which is essentially starlight).

Helion’s power is also light and also has several similarities to Helios:

And I always question the potential foreshadowing of the scene below.

- ACOSF ch 41.

If I had to guess, perhaps Silene or a descendant of hers was married off to a member of the Night Court, which is why Rhys’s sister looks like her. But my real interest is the connection that Helion (and Lucien) has to the Trove, and their potential challenge to the theory that Rhys has a claim to the throne as a descendant of Fionn/Theia. The similarities in name could have been mere coincidence but the effect the trove had on Helion creates that potential connection to Theia and Fionn (I’m not saying he is Silene’s brother but they could be the ancestors to whom he is referring in ACOSF)

Then perhaps this chapter in ACOSF (ch 42) in which Amren urges Rhys to conquer Prythian claim the throne and he declines several times, only to have her respond with this line:

…might suggest that there are others who have equal claim to the throne.

Personally, I hate the potential High King plot line, especially if Rhys and Feyre will claim the throne (I could write an essay on why this would make no sense from a narrative perspective). There are so many references in HOFAS that highlight why Prythian failed under the ruling of one sovereign and we as readers experienced the reign of a sole ruler in book one. It just makes no sense for Prythian to return to a proven failed form of sovereignty, especially with Rhys and Feyre in those positions of power, when they only recently broke free from Amarantha’s reign.

However, should the High King and Queen narrative be necessary to the plot line, I would far prefer Helion/Lucien be the potential challenge to the throne over Rhys. The end of HOFAS even opens questions regarding Nesta’s future in a position of power in Prythian.

High King plot aside; these potential clues do make me even more interested to see how Lucien’s past will affect the rest of his story and the over arching plot of the series, how his power could be even stronger than we expected, how they could come into play with the Koschei plot line and whether he will play a larger role in the political future of Prythian as well.

But most interestingly is that Theia (the mother of Helios and Selene) was the Goddess of Sight and Vision, possessing prophetic powers, and it seems fitting that Helion’s own son is mated to a cauldron-blessed Seer. Mates fated to be together who are true equals in every way.

[pixelatedraindrops]

Yuma Month: Day 16: Detectives

Learning to be a Pro Amnesiac Detective 🔎

[veryblazedreamland]

Fanfics with Sakura in different AUs is my comfort😆💖. It's always Kaguya or Tobi's fault🤣