#elucien head canon

[crazy-ache]

There was a moment, after Lucien volunteered to find Vassa, where he is left alone with Elain. No one, not even Feyre, knows what was said. And I can’t help but wonder if he said something along these lines:

“I see you are betrothed. Do you love him?”

“I do.”

“I loved someone once. When your heart belongs to them, there is nothing that can keep you apart. I wish you happiness, Lady.”

And when Elain takes a half step at the top of the stairs, perhaps it’s because she wants to know one thing—what kept Lucien from his love?

As Lucien goes to the continent, Elain gathers the courage to face Graysen. But when he rejects her, claiming it would never be her, it’s Lucien’s words that ring over and over in her head. Her heart belonged to Graysen, but his did not belong to her. She’s devastated because nothing should be keeping them apart.

And still Elain can hear Lucien’s heart. Beating and beating and beating.

But he does not hear hers.

[bats2102]

Elain + Lucien headcanon:

Papa Archeron carved a wooden ring for Lucien to give to Elain.

[zenkindoflove]

I know everyone likes a good hate to love tension. It can be very satisfying and delicious dynamic.

But I just don't see it for Elain and Lucien.

Instead of "I hate you and I want you and that makes me hate you more" (Elain), I want more of a "I don't hate you. Not even a little bit, and that makes my confusion over what we are or could be worse. I'm so nervous around you because you make me feel things when I don't even know you" (Elain). I want Lucien to think "at least if she hated me, I would know she felt anything for me at all". I want nervous glances and polite words filled with tension and apprehension. I want there to be confusion, assuming how the other must feel about them, rather than heated jabs and deliberately pushing each other away. I want a slip in resolve and propriety where a comment teeters on too flirtatious and suddenly in an instant the atmosphere has shifted. I want questioning eyes and tight lips to morph into shy grins and coy glances. And all at once the strangers who are predestined soulmates are finding themselves unofficially courting each other. When the heck did that happen? But it feels so right and they can't stop now. I want their tension to be about whether the other will find them worthy of being their mate because there is now so much pressure knowing exactly what they are to each other. I want curiosity and missed moments, until finally one of them can't stand it and makes the first move, and the other is so relieved it's not just them.

Don't give me a watered down enemies to lovers with antagonistic fights and saying things they don't mean. That isn't Elain nor is it Lucien. Two characters who know how to carry themselves, restrain their instincts, and show the world what it wants to see about them. I want them stuck in a game of hiding how they really feel, thinking the other doesn't know, feeling hints of those emotions down the bond, until one day the silence is defeaning and the stiffness breaks with finally asking the question. Preferably in the rain.

[acourtofelriels]

As much as I love Azriel's shadows, I really love the idea of them slowly starting to fade when he finds happiness for the first time in his life. I think he hasn't truly felt joy in 500 years.

Imagine this: Azriel is finally happy, deep in his soul, and the old bruised parts of himself begin to heal and he can finally step out of the darkness. He is sad to see his shadowy friends go, but he finds that he no longer needs them, because he's found love and acceptance with Elain. His heart is full, so he says goodbye to the shadows one by one as they fade away, until the last one finally disappears. He turns, and sees Elain walking towards him, glowing like the sun. And not one shadow can be found on Azriel's smiling face.

[temperedink]

9, 13, 16 - how does Elain accepts the bond?

9. What’s your favorite Elucien aesthetic?

Day Court everything! Sun and heat and gold and lace-up sandals and Lucien in a slutty one-shoulder chiton and Elain in a gloriously elegant gauzy dress.

13. What initially drew you to Elucien?

I came into the fandom as a Feysand stan first, but I'm pretty sure it was @separatist-apologist's fics that got me hooked on Elucien. (I once shipped Elain/Tamlin (!!), but I am fully convinced that Elucien is EVERYTHING now.)

16. How does Elain accept the bond?

Let's go back to the Day Court. Thematically, Lucien's arc is going to be about home because he's not had one for so long, and Elain's arc is going to parallel that because it's clear she doesn't belong in the Night Court (the black washing her out). Once Lucien's parentage is out and his mother is out of Autumn (and Beron's dead, obviously), he can finally have a permanent home with Daddy Helion and his mom and Elain. So definitely Day Court, definitely outside, definitely in sunshine.

[crazy-ache]

HAHAHA i die, i enjoy any headcanon that has Elain and Lucien giggling like idiots because I truly believe they were constantly be cracking each other up

Omfg-

Elain and Lucien doing pottery together

That’s the post, run with it

[crazy-ache]

Modern Elucien would be the hottest, most stylish couple at every social scene. But they would also be the couple that unironically wears matching Crocs.

[oristian]

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The (future) High Lord and High Lady of the Day Court.

Kicking off the new year right with my favorite ACOTAR couple! A New Year means a new agenda and that agenda is all about appreciating Elain and Lucien and I cannot wait to spend some time with them in the coming months—I am incredibly ecstatic to share with you all that I have planned! Some very special pieces, I must assure.

Whenever I envision Elain and Lucien’s future together, I always see them thriving in the Day Court, surrounded by nature and sunlight. Though, sometimes, when I think a little deeper, I always see them lounging together upon a gilded throne, basking in each other’s presence. Lucien perched on the throne and Elain splayed across his lap is a personal favorite head-canon of mine. After all, Elain’s favorite seat is her husband’s face lap.

Happy New Year, everyone! Holding space for both an ACOTAR book announcement and Elucien finally coming home.

ART CREDIT @windbyfire

COMMISSION BY @oristian

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST

@elucienweekofficial

[yourlittlebunnyy]

quick and honest opinion on some ships in ACOTAR

feylin only with first book feyre. if not, tamlin deserves better.

feysand no, no and no.

nessian NO. my beloved nesta deserves so much better than this immature man.

neris yes. see? someone like him. he would treat her like the queen she is.

elriel no. i think azriel is just attracted to elain cause she is an archeron.

elucien YES. they have the potential to be the best couple in the series let's hope sjm dont fuck this up.

gwynriel yeppy! they would be cute and silly:)

tamsand is canon im my head.

emorie NO. emerie deserves to be happy but i feel like mor would be a copy of cassian.

gonna make a part 2 !

[zenkindoflove]

hello!!! for the ask game maybe 🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings?

Hi!!!!

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings?

I'm going to do Elucien, of course, and I really always clam up with these because I have so many head canons I can spit off in the moment when people are talking about things related, but I always am like.... what are my favorites??? when asked directly. So, I'm going to go into my head canon about Elain's reluctance about the mating bond.

I really envision Elain's reluctance towards getting to know Lucien right now as multifaceted. I think it goes beyond a simple interpretation of she just doesn't like him, which I know is often used to discredit their chemistry. I HC that Elain is a lot more introspective and in tuned with her feelings and thoughts than her sisters, which is why SJM says she is a "walking spoiler". I think if it was just that Elain hated Lucien and that's why she didn't want to get to know him, it would be fine for us to see her POV at the moment before she has had her mind changed.

Instead, I envision that Elain is grappling with a lot of conflicting pulls. I think she feels a pull to Lucien intensely. I imagine it feels a lot like a crush, all encompassing, whenever he visits. And for her, she thinks this has been foisted upon her against her will. That the bond is fae magic that is manipulating her feelings, rather than an inherent part of her soul. I also think that she knows that Lucien is a good male and she can recognize that if she gets to know him, she will fall fast, which is why she instead chooses to ignore him completely. It's a defense against a path she isn't ready to face yet. I think ultimately Elain wants to be chosen, especially after facing so much rejection. And the mating bond feels like fate has made it impossible for Lucien to choose her. This is where I think learning about Jesminda and his deep love for her will come into play. I think when Elain finds out that Lucien thought Jesminda was his mate and how devoted he was to her, it's going to kick up a lot of insecurities in her. And I imagine SJM will use this moment for Lucien to tell Elain that he still wouldn't change what happen if given a choice. He would still choose Elain to be his mate.

I also think that there is an inherent tension and weirdness to knowing who your soulmate is before getting to know them and falling in love. And it makes any interaction they have have SO MUCH PRESSURE. I'm sure it's overwhelming. Combined with her family constantly hovering and having opinions in multiple directions about what they think of her mating bond.

All of this is to say - I HC that these are things Elain is aware of in herself. Things she thinks about over and over again, turning over every stone, working herself up into a place of paralysis, rather than action. I think she has longing for Lucien that she hides. I think she yearns for a great love and the mating bond is a potential promise of that, but it's a scary leap to make. What if even her mate rejects her? What if there is something about getting to know her that turns people away? It's going to take something that has to kick the first snowball down the hill for them so then it's an unstoppable force to the inevitable. The fate she has been running away from both her magic and her mating bond.

[nickel156]

This was on SJM's Pinterest board!!!

She deleted the board in '21 but how do people flip this into anything but an Elucien endgame?? Does this look like a rejected mating bond? Does this look like he's not really her fated mate...

She recently said in an interview that her plans from the beginning haven't changed! There was no Elriel plans when she wrote acomaf. Which she finished before acotar was published.

Az was still planned to be with Mor! Before being bullied. So she added Gwyn a new character for him to still get his HEA.

"The cauldron was tampered with how can you not see that after HOFAS!"

Did you not think to consider that it was Sjm's way of explaining how the cauldron, that was created by the mother was used to destroy in general?

"Elain is clearly into Az"

Yes and Nesta was into all the males she kept sleeping with...

"So you'll what?" Rhys's voice was pure ice. "Seduce her away from him?”

Azriel said nothing. He hadn't gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to.

^^^^^ IS CANON

All he thought of Elain was for pleasuring himself.. 🤢 He has no romantic plans! We are in Az's head. There's no romance here. Only lust for the third sister he thinks he is entitled to.

Xoxo 😘

[jsmelodies]

I'd Go Back to the Winter

Five years ago, Elain Archeron loved Lucien Vanserra. Supposedly. She can’t remember a single second of it. And the only way to bring it back is to relive it all.

@laxibbeb It's me, your Secret Santa for the @acotargiftexchange!

It has been so, so lovely getting to know you over the past couple of months. I'll admit that I was nervous about trying my hand at Elucien, but I've enjoyed our talks so much and getting to be creative with this!

I really stepped out of my comfort zone with this one. I do usually stay in canon verse, but not typically in this way. I played around with it a lot here - and I had so much fun doing it!

You said you liked fanfics that were a little Out There, so I really hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it💕

Read here on ao3

Chapter 1

The figure slid into Lucien’s booth just as he finished the last dregs of ale. The long, dark cloak billowed with the movement of footsteps across the creaking floorboards.

The tavern air was humid and sticky, and the fabric of his jacket clung to his chest with sweat. But it was better than the air outside, with a wind so cold it might freeze off the extremities on his face. 

And although Lucien had never had a problem staying warm, this was no night for anyone to be outside.

The tavern was one of Velaris’ worst. Perhaps one that his mate’s sister might have frequented, back when she did such things. Maybe that was why she picked it, taking the first seedy tavern that popped into her head.

It didn’t matter to him.

Truth be told, this was one of the last places he wanted to be. Being in this damned city was bad enough, without the invitation that he couldn’t refuse. 

Meet me. Written in that perfect, delicate handwriting that was the result of years of forced practice, of tutoring until she looped her letters and dotted her i’s just so. A trained courtier she could certainly be, if she ever wished it. With her pleasant smiles that could bring a man to his knees, she was suited for it. 

She lit up a room, bringing it to life. In all ways that mattered.

Her bedroom in the human lands had been anything but dull. Much to her sister’s dismay, she had ivy growing on the walls, even in the wintertime, filling the room with a lush green that drew his eyes from the drab landscape of the human realm. There were potted plants, flowers that reached for the scarce sunlight that set way too quickly. Never enough time, never enough light.

But under her thumb, they thrived. They were vibrant, an explosion of color as they sat on her windowsill. 

Persevering. Enduring. Making the most out of what was sparsely given.

Elain Archeron was meant to be in the sunlight. She was light. And even in the mortal lands, it had been clear as day.

The tavern surrounded her in shadow. The cloak she wore covered everything, concealing her identity from all who would dare to look. So utterly dramatic, his mate.

“Elain. Lovely to see you.”

She forced a smile that had become common between them as of late. “Lucien.”

Her hands grabbed the sides of the hood to bring it down around her neck. The tips of her ears poked out from her hair, golden and set in near perfect curls on her back. When she was human, the pattern had been different—still beautiful, but in soft waves that he could run his fingers through.

Now, though, he was almost scared to touch, in fear of ruining their perfection. If she even let him get that far.

She’d been pretty before the war, devastatingly so. Even then, he’d known that he wasn’t enough for her. Elain Archeron was a woman that kings went to war over, and somehow, she’d fallen into his arms instead: a landless emissary with next to nothing to offer. 

But her, as high fae? He had to admit that she’d always been meant to be this way. Even if she disagreed, and hated him for thinking so. He hated himself for thinking it, too.

Her eyes widened as she took in the scene around her. The drunk males leered at them from the bartop, and her nose scrunched at the scent that made its way into her nose. She was out of place here, with the pristine dress that he was sure she wore under her cloak, and the clink of gold that he could hear on her wrists. 

“This seems like the last place a lady such as yourself would want to meet,” he said. “I do admit, I am quite surprised you suggested it.”

“No one will bother us here,” she explained. 

When the barkeep looked their way, Lucien raised his hand in silent request for his glass to be refilled. Elain, however, shook her head when the male’s attention shifted to her, declining what he offered.

“Ah, yes. You wouldn’t want your family seeing us together, would you? It would send the wrong idea.”

She gave him a cruel smile. Well, as cruel as someone like Elain could manage. “Exactly.”

He leaned forward so his weight rested on his elbows, just as his next mug of ale arrived. He let it sit there, his attention focused entirely elsewhere.

The female across from him was much, much more important.

Some things never changed, he supposed. Her tells were the same as they always had been. Still not entirely used to her fae body, he assumed she didn’t know that he could hear it, the slight shake of her leg beneath the table.

Easy enough to hide, from wandering eyes. Indistinguishable enough that she wouldn’t have been chastised for it.

But he could hear it. Faintly. Steadily. The scratch of her heel along the wood of the bar seat, moving up and down as she stared.

Elain Archeron, for all intents and purposes, was nervous.

“I was wondering when you would eventually want to see me again,” he commented, at last picking up the ale that was waiting for him.

That little fire in her eyes sparked. The one that warmed the brown, full of indignation that had once been trained into submission. He’d brought it out of her, stoking it to life once. And he’d loved every second of it.

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Because the mating bond pulls at you, doesn’t it? Just like it does for me?”

Her eyebrows lifted. “That’s presumptuous of you.”

But she gave him that look she always did when she knew she was backed into a corner. So he said, “It pulls and pulls, and at some point, you wonder what you’re missing.”

She didn’t deny him. Call him an arrogant prick all she wanted, but he was right, wasn’t he?

“Well, what is it? You want to give it another go? You want to break the bond? What do you want?”

He didn’t see her next words coming. “I want to remember how it happened.”

The question blanketed over the air between them. It thickened the room like smoke, to the point that he could hardly think, or breathe.

She wanted to know. About them, and how he’d broken her heart. Which, given how they ended up in this predicament, he wasn’t overly convinced to do.

“No.”

“No?”

“Last I remembered, you were begging to forget me.” Lucien offered her a smile, but he knew without looking at it that it didn’t meet his eyes. “I’d be a terrible mate if I took that back, wouldn’t I?”

“But I’m asking you to.” She blinked in that way of hers that showed off her long eyelashes, slow and intentional. It was how she got what she wanted, he’d learned. “It would make a wonderful Solstice present.”

“I was thinking of a nice necklace instead. Perhaps to match the earrings you never wear.”

“Charming.” She leaned back in the seat, crossing her arms across her chest. “I do think I would prefer this, though.”

Delightful. This was exactly how he wanted to spend the holidays: dragging a female that hated him across Prythian.

It was what that damned witch had told him to do if he ever wanted to reverse it. He’d tracked her all the way to the edges of Oorid, to the place right before the wetland consumed the ground entirely. The small cottage had been built upon the squishy mud, stabilized by some ancient magic that he felt twisting around his bones.

It went quickly. They had struck a bargain. 

There was no other payment he could offer to a witch that fed on memories, so he’d offered one of his most precious ones, in exchange for the piece of her magic he desired.

The magic that Elain had pleaded for.

And with that magic, came very clear instructions. For Elain to remember any of it, she had to experience it all again: every twist and turn, every moment of joy and heartbreak.

It was painful for him to think about, even five years later. What would it be like for it all to be fresh in her mind again?

“You want to know the story, then?” he asked. “You want to relive it? You want to hate me even more than you already do?” He couldn’t stop his lip from raising in a slight sneer. “Tell me this, Elain. What will you do when you learn? Because I could handle it once, your hatred. But I don’t think I’m inclined to be on the receiving end of that anger again.”

She held his stare for a long moment, then sighed. “Fine. I promise I will have a reaction that is perfectly acceptable.”

“I’m sorry if I don’t trust your promises.” The words came out more harshly than he intended. 

She let the words linger.

Her eyes blazed through the space, perfect and defiant and everything he was supposed to love. “I don’t think I hate you anymore.”

The words cut through him, unrelenting as they tore through his heart. Five years ago, he craved to hear those words. 

He knew the truth of it—that there was a fine line between love and hate. And that Elain Archeron loved him such that she’d lost herself in it, that with that final blow, it was so easy for it to switch. To cross that line into loathing, until she couldn’t even bear to be in the same room as him.

“I loved you. Didn’t I?” she asked.

He took a sip, and set his glass down on the table. “You did.”

Her lips set into a line, and she straightened in her seat. “I want to know why.” When he didn’t respond, she said a touch softer, “I’m ready to know why.”

Maybe five years was enough to lessen the hurt of it. It was that thought that sparked hope in his chest, that this might be enough to get them talking again. He wouldn’t go quite so far as to hope for her forgiveness. No, that wouldn’t come for a long while.

Maybe, though, they could take that first step.

He looked over her, his decision made. “Pack a bag, Elain. This is going to take a while.”

***

She met him in the morning. She slipped out of the river house before anyone was awake to notice her leave, placing a single note on the main table excusing her absence for the next week.

A garden on the other side of Velaris, was what she said. With enough detail to bore Feyre and Nesta to death, so that they would leave it alone.

No one would investigate. She’d never given them a reason to.

She’d never been to his apartment, yet she knew where it was. That golden thread in her chest knew where to find him, leading her through the labyrinth of Velaris’ streets until she arrived at a building in the heart of the business district, tall and made from red bricks from the mountain range that surrounded the city.

She didn’t understand it. She didn’t think she ever would. How sometimes it felt like he was wrapped around her heart, coiled around it tightly in a tapestry of golden light.

How she could feel his essence through it—something she felt like she was supposed to miss, without knowing why.

How was she supposed to miss someone she didn’t remember? 

She missed the laugh that she couldn’t place. The steady breathing that she was sure appeared when he was in a deep sleep, passed out beside her, even if it never formed fully in her mind’s depth.

Sometimes when she saw the glint in his hair, or when the sun hit the russet brown of his eye, she felt a pang in her chest. There was the urge to take those long strands through her fingers, and cup his face with her palm.

Sometimes, she swore she felt the faintest of touches. His lips against her own, the ghost of his hand along her waist. Her hip.

She could hear the soft rasp of his whisper, air pressing against the shell of her ear. Could see the slightest dimple from his smile.

Like she had known once what it had meant to be loved; cherished. 

It always slipped from her mind like smoke. And, quite honestly, she didn’t know how she was able to miss it. But she knew that she did, even though she couldn’t name any of it.

Just as dawn broke, she knocked firmly on his apartment door. It was towards the back of the hallway on the second floor, and he answered within mere seconds.

The two of them exchanged brief greetings, awkward and strained as she avoided his eyes. He took her bag from her, slinging it over his shoulder with a graceful movement. She fought to keep her jaw shut, watching the firm lines of muscle flex under his pressed jacket. She’d always found him handsome, even in those early days after the Cauldron, when she hated him and didn’t know why. All she knew then was that she’d begged him to take it away—and he had.

Elain took his hand, and then he brought them through that void in between space. They landed in the middle of the woods, the mortal woods, and the nearly rotted leaves poked out through the snow.

Before them stood a cottage, one that was all too familiar.

For years, she’d lived here. Suffered through harsh winters. Prayed that a single vegetable would grow in that garden, in the hopes that they might be fed.

She hated this cottage.

Memories slammed through her, of trying to stop Feyre and Nesta from ripping each other’s throats out. She’d played mediator for far too long in that house, taking the middle of the bed when her sisters could barely stand to look at each other, even in the height of summer when all she could feel was her sisters’ body heat melting onto her.

The cottage hadn’t fared well, it seemed. The roof had finally caved in, and vines covered the chipped wooden walls.

No one could possibly live here now. She didn’t even know how they lived here all those years ago. Looking at it now, it was pathetic. Certainly not fit for a family of four. If anything, it was fit for a family of squirrels.

“What are we doing here?” she asked.

Sympathy filled his expression, as if he knew the toll that all those years in poverty had taken. Maybe they’d talked about it at great length, before it happened.

Did she share everything with him? All her insecurities, all her doubts? Her dreams of leaving this place behind, and exploring what the world had to offer?

She didn’t know. But Lucien looked at her like he knew her, like his soul was familiar with hers. And she hated it, hated how some part of her reached out and grabbed some invisible hand. How he seemed to reach back, sliding a comforting thumb over the center of her palm.

Even as her hands laid limply at her sides. That phantom touch terrified her, and she knew it was the bond. Knew it was her trying to find comfort, and him trying to provide it.

It was part of why she stayed away from him for so long. The mating bond was a sixth sense, one that she had gone nearly a quarter of a century without. Using it felt unnatural; different from anything she had ever known.

His eyes dropped to her hands for just a moment, before he cleared his throat. “We will not stay here incredibly long, I assure you. As I recall, you were not fond of this place.” He offered her a hesitant smile, and said, “All stories have a beginning, though, and ours starts here.”

***

A snowflake fell to the ground as Lucien approached the cottage in the woods.

He adjusted his sleeves, shivering in the wind that seeped in through his jacket and chilled his Autumn blood. He’d forgotten how cold the mortal lands could be this time of year. With Spring always remaining a constant, lovely temperature, he supposed he’d become a bit spoiled. And he hadn’t done a route through here in ages.

Had Andras been cold when he died? 

He imagined the blood of his friend staining the snow a bright red. He imagined a mortal huntress bringing him down with a single ash arrow, and skinning the pelt right off of him. He shuddered at the thought, and forced it from his mind.

He’d never met these humans, but he hated them already. No matter that they hadn’t been the ones to fire the arrow. It was irrational, he knew. For they were the reason his friend had died. His death had been toasted at their dinner table, while they ate and clinked their glasses.

Andras had to die. He knew that. But Andras had been his friend, and they spent most of their evenings playing cards by the crackling fire.

The human had killed his friend, and Tamlin was already acting like a lovesick fool. Offering a damned estate to mortals who he didn’t owe a single copper to. A house that wasn’t about to collapse in on itself would have worked just fine, if you asked him.

Looking at the cabin in front of him, he noted that it was rather pathetic. A thin stream of smoke escaped from a hole in the roof, and he knew just from looking at it that the fire below couldn’t possibly be warming the entire cabin.

Tamlin had done a number on this place. The door was barely on its hinges, as if somebody had made a poor attempt of putting it back into place.

There was a garden in the front, barren from the winter, with only a few lifeless shrubs to indicate that anything had ever grown here in the first place. And the rest of it was drab, more so than he expected, and he had to force his sympathy deep down in his chest where it belonged.

He’d do his job, play his part, and then he could get damn well out of here.

He raised his hands to the door, making sure to knock lightly enough so the door wouldn’t fall right off.

At first, he thought no one would answer. Perhaps without Feyre here, the family had frozen in the cold. He hoped that wasn’t the case, for the sole reason that it might complicate matters. Feyre would be far less cooperative if she learned that her human family no longer breathed, and…

As the thought formed in his mind, he realized how terrible it sounded.

To his relief, though, Then there was a shuffling across the floor, starting from the other side of the cabin, it sounded like, and the door was pulled back just a hair.

Even though Tamlin glamoured him before he left, this woman seemed to stare at where his mask should be, at where his now round ears would normally point into tips.

So, this was the family that the human girl had talked about. He tried to keep his unimpressed look contained as the woman opened the door wider, a sneer already forming on her face.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“Miss Archeron?” he asked.

She was silent for a moment. “What is it to you?”

“Your father’s ships. They’ve landed at the docks.”

Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly. It would have been entirely so, if he had been untrained to pick up on such things.

But despite how well-constructed this woman’s mask was, he could pick apart the apprehension, and the disbelief.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“You can call me Lucien,” he said, giving a polite dip of his head. “As I said, the ships arrived just this morning. We couldn’t quite believe it, after all these years.”

She blinked, long and slow. “I won’t fall for your tricks.” She stepped back from the doorway just enough so she could bring the door forward. She said with a snarl, “I would advise you to leave.”

He shoved his foot into the space between the door and the wall, holding back his wince when the woman didn’t hesitate in her movement. It dug into his foot with a searing pain, and the force that this mortal woman put into her blow almost made him wince.

Still, though, he forced his face to be pleasant. “And what makes you think it is a lie?” It rolled smoothly off of his tongue, meant to put the woman at ease.

It didn’t work. Instead, her gaze narrowed on him, ladled with suspicion.

“Nesta, let the man inside,” came a soft lilt from behind her.

Nesta, he assumed, held the door in a death grip, not budging even after the other woman had told her otherwise. Until that woman came to the doorway herself, to see the commotion with her own eyes.

Her own beautiful, deep brown eyes.

Poverty could only hide so much. Even in her simple dress, and the meals she clearly lacked, she was ethereal anyways—a goddess that had somehow taken a human form, who deigned to look at the stranger upon her doorstep with warmth.

He sketched a bow, and murmured, “I do not believe I’ve had the pleasure, lady…?”

The corners of her lips lifted as she blushed. “Elain.”

[eudaimonia83]

Such a good vibe to hear flattering things about your boo from someone who has no idea they’re important to you. Meep.

HC no one asked for: I feel like Lucien WOULD be a clothes horse if he had a stable home, but since he’s bumped around for centuries he has a core wardrobe of super functional things that fit him really well with some killer accessories (and his clothes scent like him which one day will drive Elain a little feral 😏). Like…a really soft and well made pair of leather hunting boots. A jerkin with brass buttons and red stitching that he’s had since he lived in Autumn. Leather gloves and a wool tunic lined with fur from Winter. Ear cuffs and gold jewelry from Day.

Yea. He doesn’t need a massive closet to dress like he knows what he’s about. 🤭

I desperately want a scene where Elain expresses curiosity about another court and Lucien just casually starts listing facts without even really thinking about it because of course, he knows all these little details it's kind of his job.

But also I want it to be paired with a scene where she's talking to someone without him around and they express how personable and curious he was when he first arrived. How he can make friends so easily because he's genuine when he asks questions and backs off when someone tells him to. She needs to hear it from someone who isn't directly related to her.

Feyre standing up for him is great and all but if the only person who was sticking up for someone to me was my sibling then I'd probably question it too.

Side note: I really want to see this man's closet. He's always well-dressed so I can only assume it's a mishmash of every court he's visited.

[elrielffs]

Why is Gwynriel so popular in the fandom? Why do people latch onto Gwynriel so much despite there being hardly any canon scenes or romantic interaction with the two?

Elriel's make no bones about it, it is the least popular ship in the fandom and 1v2 with Gwynriels and Eluciens. (I would argue that outside the fandom proper, in a more generalized book setting and people who don't participate in online fandom, Elriel is the more expected and liked ship.)

Thankfully, SJM doesn't care about any of that and will do what she wants, has planned and set up.

Of course, a part of it is because people don't like Elain. I get it, not every body is going to like every character and Elain hasn't really had time to shine. Some people can't get into a character unless they are in their head, like Nesta was universally hated before ACOSF.

People don't like the soft, quiet, non-sassy, non-warrior FMC. The genre has been dominated by Aelin archetype knock offs for ten years for a reason, though THANKFULLY we are starting to see people grow tired of that.

But why is Gwynriel so popular?

It's because the dynamic and characterization of Gwyn can be whatever they want it to be.

Gwyn has no "negative" traits so to speak. She's never done anything wrong or made a mistake within her power and has an easy personality to project onto. She's nice, she's bubbly, she's understanding, she's a good friend, etc.

That's why "fanon" Gwyn is all that and a bag of chips. She's Starborn, she's a missing Archeron, she's going to be Nyx favorite auntie and Rhysand's best friend, her father is from Autumn/Spring or someone very important, she's going to wield Gwydion, she's going to use the Trove, Gwyn is going to save Illyria and so on and so forth.

Same for the Gwynriel ship itself. Despite what anti's say, Gwyn and Az do not have enough scenes or chemistry together to know how their relationship would unfold or how they would be with each other.

That's why you see such contrasting/conflicting views on that side of how Gwyn will be and how the GA relationship will be--it's people projecting themselves and the relationship they would want onto the characters but Gwyn and the supposed relationship with Az is a blank slate for all their fantasies to come true.

Contrast with Elriel and Elain. Elain has made mistakes, Elain does have a personality that isn't super popular in the genre, Elriel does have an established dynamic that antis like to try to poke holes in or point out how it's wrong and how they don't like it.

[theshadowsingersraven]

I feel like E|riels genuinely don't realize how much their reputation precedes them and that enough people in the rest of the fandom (not just relegated to the Ship Wars) have had so many negative interactions on multiple different platforms with them, as well as them flat out refusing accountability and saying people are making fake accounts despite ones (especially on Twitter) existing for years and proudly proclaiming themselves as E|riels matters more than the Elain Week account saying "Everyone (except people who want to include Tamlin and/or Beron in their portrayal) is welcome!"

Because I remember people getting harassed on their own Tiktok videos about Gwynriel/Elucien regularly from the same 8 or so E|riel accounts. I remember self-proclaimed E|riels harassing the cosplayer who was hired to play Gwyn at Gauntlets and Gowns' event, body shaming her to the point where she had to make a video about it. I remember E|riels on Twitter insulting real people and calling them empty-headed, insane asylum escapees, and saying that users should try and claim mental instability in order to get their money back via health insurance claims for buying commissions of the "wrong ship". I remember E|riels on Reddit claiming that NSFW Elucien art should be considered depictions of SA, since Elain is "saying a clear "no" in canon to Lucien" and completely undermining the entire basis of fandom creativity and shipping. I remember those same E|riels excusing the harassment Gwynriel-related accounts with large followings get because they "don't defend E|riels" or something along those lines, shortly followed by more E|riels saying that the harassment and threats people have been getting on multiple platforms are "carefully coordinated to make E|riels look bad" and fake. I remember E|riels refusing to adhere to tag courtesy and understanding when they are not the target audience for something.

That is just my memory as someone who has been in this fandom for about two years now. Let alone the people who have been here from when the series first came out, or even any time before ACOSF.

E|riels are not operating with the clean slate they seem to believe they are. Cosplayers have had bad experiences with E|riels (even ones who make E|riel content!), for example. As well as fanfic authors, fanartists, average Tiktok users who make videos, Twitter users, Tumblr users, Reddit users, etc. Hell, I've even had my Tumblr account for upwards of 10 years, and it's never been wrongly deactivated by Tumblr before. Not until I started posting anti-E|riel content did my Tumblr ever get reported and then reinstated because Tumblr staff admitted they wrongfully terminated my blog.

So...how are they surprised or offended that people didn't feel comfortable participating in their Elain Week when so many of them are on thin ice as it is? How are they upset when people don't conveniently wipe their memory and trust their week that's already banning certain submissions (as if that alone isn't enough for people to not want to submit their art there? I don't even ship Tamlain but still recognize selectively banning ships is wrong) enough to participate? Saying people are welcome isn't enough when you're based in a community that regularly thrives on shaming and mistreating others, claiming they're the only "true" Elain stans. It's further not enough when people felt like their concerns were validated by the overwhelming amount of E|riel bias in the week's submissions.

If they don't like the fact that they're on thin ice, maybe they should actually do something to remedy that instead of fumbling every single chance they have to improve their god-awful fandom impression. Elaingate was their chance to prove they aren't as bad as the worst of them, and instead of standing for fandom integrity, creativity, and the right for all Elain appreciation and art to celebrated, even if it isn't how they would personally celebrate or appreciate her they doubled down and insisted on excluding others. And now they're playing the victims because they weren't the priority of Elain Day after they already had their preferred Elain Week? They weren't excluded, they just weren't the main concern because they weren't excluded from the Elain Week held this month. The concern was uplifting the people who were shamed or told they didn't care about DV or DV survivors because they felt that censorship for an entire community event based on a mod's needs is wrong and does not cater to the community enough, or because they're triggered by characters that aren't Tamlin or Beron and yet Elain Week didn't deem them worthy of the same "protection" that they "offer" to survivors triggered by Tamlin

They are why a second Elain Week exists. And the more and more they prove it necessary, the more and more I'm glad it exists for the people who want that safe space they were denied. To anyone hurt by elaingate, know that you are seen and there's a safe space in this hostile fandom for you and your art.

[fuckyeselucien]

Creator Highlight #17 - @cauldronblssd

Today we’d like to highlight @cauldronblssd! CB is one of the most welcoming and generous creators in the Elucien community who has given so much to others. She is a talented writer with a wide variety of stories and has also commissioned some of the most gorgeous pieces for Elain and Lucien.

If you check out CB's work, you can find just about any flavor you crave! Whether that is an AU in space, canon divergence, or modern-day spice, she's got both the angst and spice you seek. Not only is she an amazing storyteller, she is also known for leaving some of the most thoughtful comments on AO3 to other authors. She really embodies what the Elucien community is about!

Below are a few favorites, but you’ll want to read all the fics and check out her commissions on her masterlist HERE.

Found in the Sunlight

Elain and Lucien have spent the past several years politely avoiding each other. When Elain has a vision about Lucien becoming the High Lord of Autumn, she agrees to accept the mating bond to a male that she hardly knows. Bound by the bond and a couple unexpected bargains, the newly mated couple form an alliance.

Morning Edition

Elain listens to her local public radio station every morning as a way to support her sister, Feyre, a local arts and culture reporter. What starts as casual listening develops into something more when she finally meets the man behind the voice she listens to on the new every morning, Lucien Vanserra.

"Lucien was an NPR reporter, an enthusiast of local politics and an active participant in the fall and spring fund drives. Surely, he couldn’t be a party animal either, with a call time of five AM or something else equally absurd. Still, it had been him who suggested they meet at the last minute. Was this a booty call? Would he still buy her drinks, then?

It seemed a strange move to select your coworker’s sister for such an arrangement, but perhaps she was naive. She’d have to keep her head on her shoulders, even when he spoke to her with that low seductive voice or wore another well-fitted shirt that showed off his expansive chest. Elain squared her shoulders, resolving herself to be firm in her resolution not to go home with him that night."

We're Leaving the Planet, and You Can't Come

Elain Archeron lives a quiet life on the Sun Station as a follower of the Nolans’ New Ways. When she is sent on a mission to find wanted man, Vanserra, she crash lands in alien territory.

We’re going to space, babes!

Want to nominate someone? Fill out the form HERE.