#lucien headcannon

[lucienweekofficial]

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October 8: Exile Masterlist

October 9: Style Masterlist

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October 11: Courtier & Emissary Masterlist

October 12: Family Masterlist

October 13: Romance Masterlist

October 14: Free Day Masterlist

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🎨: ellyness5

[sapphicmsmarvel]

"hey bitch, what's for dinner?"

Cassian dares his besties (eris, lucien and tarquin included) to ask their mates “hey bitch, what’s for dinner?” 

some are short. some medium. one large (for a headcanon type fic). Also this is mostly dialogue because I didn't want to keep repeating body motions (they shrug a lot, they cuddle a lot, etc, etc, etc). 

Azriel:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?” He really tried not to let his voice crack, but he couldn't help it. The idea of calling you something foul outside the bedroom is painful. 

“Based on the way your voice got quieter for that word, I'm going to assume this is a stupid dare from Cassian. And that you aren’t actually that stupid to talk to me like that.” You said as you continued to stir the pot of soup. 

“I’m so relieved you know me that well.” He couldn’t help his sigh. 

You snorted as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “If I ever actually talk to you like that, take Truthteller and use it, cause it’s not me.” 

You let out another snort. “My big baby.” You said, taking your hand up and ruffling Azriel’s hair as he pressed kisses to your neck. 

Cassian:

He came in so confident too. But quickly was humbled. 

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?” 

“Wanna try that again?” He doesn’t get scared of much, but your calm tone in this moment will strike fear into his heart.

“No, ma’am.” He shook his head. 

“And what did we learn?” 

“Never say that stuff to my spouse and mate who I love very much?” He asked. 

“Mhm.” you hummed as he came up to hug you. “Speak to me like that again and I’m cutting your hair off.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Rhysand:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?”

He didn’t even get a chance to breathe after that sentence because you turned around with the knife in your hand. Seriously, what an idiot approaching you with that stupid shit while you’re cooking dinner. You’re hungry and holding a knife. 

You stabbed it into the countertop, it made a twang sound and shook from the force of you stabbing it. 

“The fuck did you just say to me?” 

“…” 

“Go on say it again since you wanna be all cocky.” You leaned against the counter with your arms crossed. 

“I love you.” Not much scared him, but his wife humbled the shit out of him. 

Your mouth made a flat line and your brows raised as you said, “Mhm.” 

“And I’ll do whatever you want for a month. Hell, the rest of our lives.”

“Mhm.” You ripped the knife out of the counter and then turned around and continued chopping vegetables. 

“Honey?”

“You know, I think I’ll invite Feyre and her wife over for dinner. They wouldn’t call me that.” You continued. 

“Baby,” he began and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“Maybe I’ll invite Cassian and Azriel’s wives too, they’ll understand what it’s like to be married to the stupidest motherfucker we know.” 

He pressed a kiss to your clothes shoulder. 

“Are you done?”

“You have no idea the doghouse you’re in right now.” 

“Does it help if I told you that Cassian dared me.” 

You set the knife down and turned around in his arms. “You’re still an idiot.” You wound your arms around his neck, your fingers playing with baby hairs growing at the nape of his neck. 

“I know.” 

“Good,” you said and smacked his ass.

He yelped. 

Feyre:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?”

“What crawled up your ass and died?” You asked. 

She couldn’t help but giggle. “I love that you humble me.” 

“Me and Rhys’ wife have a load on our hands considering you fools are best friends. You have got to stop influencing each other.” 

She hummed at the thought of her best friend and his wife. She put her arms around your waist and you leaned into her. “One day, we’re gonna snap and kill you.” She kissed the area between your neck and shoulder. “We have the best wives.”

“You got that right.” You reached around and smacked her ass. But you miscalculated and hit her hip. 

Morrigan:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?”

“Nothing, slut. Bend over the table and spread your cheeks, if you think you can talk to me like that I’ll show you otherwise.” 

 You sat up from your spot on the couch looking at her with a “WTF” expression. 

The woman was too stunned to speak.  “It was a joke but now I’m horny.” 

You laughed, “into degradation are we?” 

“Didn’t think I was, but hey you learn something new everyday.” She shrugged, actually thankful for Cassian because now she could explore this new thing with her wife. 

Amren:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?” She opened the door to your shared home to yell. When she heard nothing but silence she was concerned, she could smell you, you were home. 

“Y/N?” She called. 

She walked into your living room from the entry hall to find you standing there. Staring at her with sad, wide eyes. 

“Love?” 

“….what’d i do?” Your voice wavered and she couldn’t take it. She pulled you into her arms and rocked you side to side. 

“If I ever speak to you like that, you better smack me across the fucking mouth.” Was all she said. “Why’d you say that?” You sniffed. You two pulled away from each other, only enough to lean your foreheads together. “Cassian got it in his big dumb brain that it was a good idea to say that to our mates.” She whispered and wiped your cheeks with her thumbs. 

“He’s an idiot.” You deadpanned. 

“I'm aware.” “And you’re an idiot for doing it.” 

“I deserve that.” Was all she said before she kissed you. 

Nesta:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?”

You were silent and she looked at you from her spot on the couch. You were staring at her wide eyed, your eyes began watering. 

“Y/N?”

“That really hurt my feelings, Nes.” You were about to cry. 

She shot off from her spot on the couch and crawled into the chair you were sitting in. She pulled you into her chest. 

“Oh baby.” She said, “it was a stupid fucking prank from Cassian.” She whispered at the top of your head, kissing your hair. 

“Tell that overgrown bitch of a bat to watch his back.” Your voice was muffled from her tits. 

“I will.” She scratched your head lightly. 

“Nes?”

“Yes, my love?”

“You ever speak to me like that again, I’ll make you wish you never met me.”

She let out a laugh like breath through her nose. “Okay, baby.” 

“Tears and all I’ll pummel you.” You declared and she kissed your head, rocking you back and forth. 

“I know.” 

Elain:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?”

“I will grill your flowers if you talk to me like that again.”

She cackled like the witch she is. 

Lucien:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?”

“Soap.”

“Soap?” 

“If you’re going to talk to me like that, you’re getting soap. Bitch.” You threw a jar of soap at him. “Go put that on spaghetti.” 

Eris:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?”

You whipped off your shoe and threw it at him. Feyre taught you that move. He didn’t duck, he just let it hit him because he knew his dumbass deserved it.  

Tarquin:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?”

“My ass.” 

He loves that you match his freak, “I'm so relieved you didn’t think I was serious.” 

“You aren’t that stupid, plus, Azriel’s mate sent a missive because he tried it.” 

“Drinking with Cassian is the worst.”

“And yet, your dumbass still did it.” 

“The drinking or the dare?” “Both.” 

[urpaperboy]

YV boys with the Headcanon Generator !! (Pt.1)

Let me know if I should make a part 2 and who should be in it !! :3

[achaotichuman]

Okay you guys know what time it is.

Acotar Rant Time.

Okay, I know, I know, the idea that Tamlin will step down or otherwise hand the Spring Court over to Lucien and Elain and go to live his life as a travelling musician is one of the most popular theories (it most of the time involves Tam dying but I don't like that at all so we're going with him stepping down)

And whilst I see it as a possibility for canon, I cannot get on board with it, specifically because of the way the High lord's power chooses the next High lord.

Tamlin knew he was most likely the next heir since he was young, he was experiencing the power when he was a child and knew his brothers would kill him if they ever found out. He hoped that one of them could take the throne and he would serve in their armies and simply keep his head down low.

But what he wanted didn't change the fact that he was in fact the Heir.

The magic had already chosen him as its next High lord, despite him being the youngest and on the surface, the least worthy of the role.

This happens again within the books. Tarquin was chosen as the High lord of Summer, despite being Norstrus' cousin, and Varian technically being the next viable Heir. Tarquin would have hardly been trained for the position but would have been trained to be some kind of advisor or courtier for whoever the next High lord may be, assuming it would be Varian.

He even admits to Feyre that is young and considered inexperienced yet he tries his best and look, he ends up doing the same sort of thing Tamlin wanted to achieve. Which was taking in refugees, fighting for people's freedom, and trying to establish equality. I love Varian but he fell in love with a monster that wants Rhysand to take over Prythian, so I do not believe he would have tried to implement these changes. Possibly would not have even thought of them.

I say this to show that the magic chooses who will benefit the Court best, even skipping to other bloodlines if need be.

I believe this is the same for Tamlin.

When you read book 1, he is incredibly similar to Tarquin. He was not trained for the position but was trained to act as a kind of second, in assuming the form of a General. Same kind of thing as Tarquin.

He admits he is considered inexperienced but is trying his best. He fought for people's freedom, he took in refugees and post acomaf had a pretty equal Court.

My personal theory with what happened during Acomaf was a combination of many factors.

1- Amarantha most likely raped Tamlin under the mountain. Considering how she was lusting after him, she finally got him for weeks and he could do nothing but let her do what she wanted.

2- Being under the mountain brought up suppressed trauma from his childhood, most of which would have revolved around Amarantha, but also not being able to protect Feyre would have brought up not being able to protect his mother. Being tormented by his brothers. Being abused by his father. Then when they came out from Under the mountain, he wasn't able to suppress his trauma so well anymore, and become erratic and unpredictable.

3- Having the High lord's powers shoved back into him so suddenly caused him to lose control, and because he, unlike literally everyone else. Had no one to help him manage his magic, or help him control it properly. As Rhysand and Morrigan have stated multiple times throughout the series, especially in Silver Flames, uncontrolled magic will lead to madness. It can drive a person to literal insanity, which is what I think happened in the case of Tamlin (It was retconning but I am looking at the ways of which to bring back book-1 Tam within canon rules)

All of this to say, these are all outside factors things that could not be predicted. By looking at the factors of who would be best fit for Spring, Tamlin is the obvious choice.

He is empathetic. Connects well with the people. Fights for what is right and for freedom. He is kind and caring.

Post-Under the Mountain, and presumably post-curse Tamlin was one of the best High lords, his Court was thriving, his people were happy and even gladly went to their deaths for him and his Court.

The magic didn't chose wrong. It chose Tamlin for a reason. He was the best choice to bring about good change within the Spring Court.

I believe all of the outside factors are what led to Tamlin relying on his father's way of ruling, because he was unable to dig out a whole new path in the state he was in. Tamlin was living in fight or flight mode from Acomaf and onward and it shows.

I think Lucien would be a great High lord, but we also underestimate how the power is connected to the land itself and like it or not Lucien is not of Spring.

He is of Day and Autumn. It shows in his mannerisms, his personality, his way of thinking. And it will show in his power.

He will not be able to connect to the people the way Tamlin will, because Tamlin's magic comes the heart of Spring itself. He was literally forged for it. The Spring magic will be alien to Lucien, and Lucien will be alien to it.

We see how uncontrolled magic can affect the person it was built for. Now imagine that magic also not being built for the person using it. Lucien has no reason to even be able to control it, it would drive him insane as well.

If Tamlin was given someone to help train his magic, like Rhysand had Amren, Tarquin had Varian and Cressedia, Eris will have his mother and brothers, and Lucien will have Helion. He would be in full control.

Like a quote from an SJM interview stated, the characters find who they need, not what they want. Tamlin may have started out not wanting the throne, but he may very well find what he needs to control his magic and bring back his Court.

Tamlin was forged for Spring. Like Lucien was forged for Day.

Unless Sjm kills Tamlin, I highly doubt he will cease being High lord any day.

And if she does kill him, I am disappearing from this fandom because Tamlin is the only one keeping me here.

[tilseptemberends]

Listen- I know Lucien is extremely capable but I think it would be funny if he didn't know how to keep a plant alive.

Because he lived in the Spring Court for years and the plants there are just always in bloom he assumes it's pretty easy and is slowly being driven insane by the fact that he can't keep one house plant from dying.

[jessyurahara]

MLQC- Public Affection

Kiro

The word shy seemed to be missing from Kiro’s vocabulary. He was full of love for you and he never seemed to be ashamed of when to show it, rarely stopping to consider your own emotions or embarrassment. 

If anything, you were the one who started to feel overwhelmed by the sheer amount of attention afforded to you by Kiro, it was difficult not to be. You would rarely get a moments peace from the constant affection he wished to show you. He constantly wanted to hold onto some part of you. 

There were some days you wished he would just give you one day with a modest, by his standards, amount of affection, so you could feel just a little bit less suffocated. You had grown so accustomed to his constant displays of love, that without him there, you felt isolated. After that experience you learned to appreciate his presence, when he would swoop you up in his arms like there was no one else in the world apart from the both of you. 

Lucien

Lucien really seems to depend on his mood and location. Somedays he wants to hold you close and kiss your forehead without consideration for the rest of the world, and then on other days, his focus lays elsewhere and it slips his mind. He’s responsible enough to understand that there is always a Time and a place for these things, and that didm’t really bother you. 

When it comes to public displays of affection, Lucien would find himself often in a more nonchalant mood about it all, he would slip an arm around your shoulder while you’d be standing around having a casual conversation with your colleagues, and sometimes you would find yourself embarrassed by these interactions. 

His efforts of maintaining a cool composure in front of you were somewhat discarded, he was no longer the cool guy, that wasn’t to say he didn’t try and carry himself like that at times, but he didn’t deny himself the simple pleasures of your relationships; like kissing you under the glistening sunset or holding your hand as you strolled through the moonlit streets. He knew better than anyone that life was precious, and that all too soon, you could lose the person you cared for the most, he didn’t want his lack of attention towards you to be a regret in his life. 

Gavin

Gavin is driven by his want to be close to you, if he feels the desire to touch you, whether in a warm embrace or a kiss on the lips, he never tries to hide those feelings from you. It’s difficult now he has you trapped with him for him to even grasp the idea of suppressing his affections towards you. At first you weren’t even sure if you enjoyed the amount of eyes you would feel travel in your direction from the amount of affection he shows you, but eventually you grew to enjoy the attention from him. 

Gavin keeps you close at all times, a hand around your hip while you walk together, a kiss to your head, a kiss on the lips, it’s all too sweet for you. 

Eventually Gavin just started pulling you away from ever watching gazes of those around, pulling you into a hallway, round the side of a building, into a shaded alley, though this often leaves you looking strange to onlookers in some circumstances it also leaves you looking like two mischievous children about to pull a prank. It didn’t seem to bother Gavin though. He needs his daily doses of affection, and he’ll do anything to get it from you. 

Victor

Victor wasn’t so much one for PDA, not because he didn’t love you, but it wasn’t something he particularly viewed as the most professional behaviour he could exhibit in his role. Most of the time he dealt with people on a business only level, so he communication outside of business anyway for those in his personal life could often leave a lot to be desired, but you were willing to accept that about him, because he’s still the man whom you fell in love with. 

It took a while for Victor to warm up to the idea that the both of you were legitimately together, it wasn’t even that he didn’t understand the intricacies of being in a relationship but instead it was more the ideals he’d held so long about being the picture of professionalism. He’s unlikely to initiate anything beyond the bare minimum hands holding with yourself unless he is told to, but would certainly not push you away from him if you were to try something, in fact away from being alone he prefers it, it lets him know you want him close to you. 

You could hold his hand, or even kiss him in public and he wouldn’t be embarrassed by it, he just assumes you know far more about the ins and outs of relationships far more than he does, so he simply allows you to take the lead. 

Back to MLQC Headcannons

Headcannons/ Love Letters/ Stories/ Drabbles

[viktoriaashleyyx]

So like as an apathetic enby, top surgery just feels too permanent and I hate paperwork more than I hate my tiddies. But if TAMLIN was my bestie??

"Hey man, I'm just not feeling the tiddies today, can you, uh, you know, get rid of them?"

"I am a high lord my magic is supposed to be used to protect the people of the Spring Court."

"It would take you like 5 fucking seconds. "

Boom! tiddies gone.

Alternatively:

"This dress is cute but I just wish I filled out the top a little mor-- oh that's right! TAMLIN!"

"What?"

"Can you make my tiddies bigger this time?"

"Ugh"

"Or you can call someone to alter the dress bit the party starts in 15 mins."

"Fine"

[bloomingdarkgarden]

Lucien unable to cease from constantly stroking Elain’s hands in disbelief whenever she endeavors to touch him.

[gate-of-the-archer]

Screenshot redraw (from Sav on YouTube) :33

[queen--of--shadows]

A Formidable Pair: Part 1

Azriel x Reader

Summary: As spymaster to the Spring Court, the Reader meets her unfriendly match from the Night Court as they work together to train, rebuild and repair Court relations. 

Warnings: none

Word Count: 865

Notes: hi friends im back 🥲 first and foremost thank you to the anon who requested this! I love your prompts and had so much fun writing a short intro to this new series! I apologize for the unexpected hiatus—I had already written this chapter once before then lost all of my work when my laptop crashed 🥲🥲 anyways I hope you all enjoy! I aim to get the next chapter out sometime this week 🖤

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

---------------------------

Sweat gathered and trickled down your neck as the thick, sweltering spring air weighed heavy with the creep of the afternoon sun. Winters in the Spring Court were enjoyable for the average female, a vacation spot even. But as a member of the Autumn Court, and despite your many years of serving the High Lord of Spring, you hated your posting here.

“Does that sound alright, Y/N?” Tamlin asked, his shoulder-length golden hair catching the light with a slight cock of his head.

“Yes, of course,” you replied, tilting your chin down, hands clasped tightly behind your back.

You had been trained for this since you could remember how to walk. Your parents, close friends of the Vanserra family, had recognized your talents from childhood and began lessons under the spymasters of the Autumn Court.

Bred for stealth, obedience, discipline, brutality, lethality.

You were unforgiving. Cold and distant. Like all good spymasters were.

Just like the Night Court spymaster, now standing at your side.

The High Lord of the Night Court’s lapdog.

Lucien had asked you weeks ago to serve as lead spy for a few months as they attempted to repair and rebuild not only physically, but also their relations with the other Courts and High Lords. You accepted, but not without letting Lucien know that he owed you big time. You hated being in the spotlight like this. And the deathly glare you snuck in before averting your gaze back to Tamlin served as a reminder to the handsome redhead, his mouth parted now in a wicked grin.

The past few months, you had been working as Spring Court emissary and spy, traveling to both the mortal lands and across Prythian to the other Courts on behalf of Tamlin to improve relations. Winter, Summer, Autumn, Day and Dawn.

But you hadn’t signed up to work alongside the Shadowsinger, his presence now like an oily stain to your left.

You had been avoiding the Night Court as long as possible. A war-mongering people, their long history of vicious brutality initially intrigued you, but their arrogance and ego, whether a front or not, were repulsive enough that you learned to stay away.

But the Winter Solstice Party was nearing, an invaluable opportunity to show that the People of Spring wanted peace. The trip up north became inevitable.

Rhysand and his spymaster had been visiting over the past week, traveling throughout the Court with Tamlin to learn how he had been rebuilding since Amarantha’s reign tore the entire southernmost lands of Prythian apart. You were praying to the Gods that he wouldn’t rope you into whatever political games he was playing. Still, to your dismay, Tamlin requested that you and the Shadowsinger train the new class of spies in the Spring Court over the next few days before heading north to attend the Solstice Party with Lucien.

If the shadows that nearly enveloped the tall male to your side were any indication of how he felt about being here, this next week would be absolutely miserable.

It wasn’t the bland mask hiding the killer underneath that bothered you. It wasn’t the shadows constantly whispering in his ears, nor was it his deadly, unrelenting gaze as he assessed you like a threat in your own Court. No, it was the haughty, pompous, self-important swagger, the fact that he hadn’t said more than two words to you since his arrival. You knew, just knew he considered himself a better spy than you.

That wouldn’t stand. No, that was going to change. You would shred his Illyrian pride to bits.

You kept your face neutral and didn’t let any emotions shine as you sketched a bow to your High Lord and made your way out to the training rings, sending a silent fuck you to Lucien, who still donned that wicked grin.

You heard the Shadowsinger muttering to Rhysand, likely receiving instructions from his High Lord about what information he wanted over the next week, before the violet-eyed male winnowed away. Then the near-silent footsteps trailing behind you.

He remained wordless as he followed, but his shadows indicated his presence, snaking along the floor lazily—a silent warning. You snorted.

“Is there a problem?”

You stopped in your tracks.

His words caught you off guard. Guttural and deep and dark, like the cold midnight sky given a voice.

You wiped any expression off your face, save for mild amusement, as you turned on your heel to face him.

“I’ve never met a spy that had to rely on anything other than their own wit and training,” you said sweetly. “Your…pets are interesting.” A dark, inky shadow circled you curiously, like a snake assessing its prey.

He pinned you with an icy, lethal stare—the mask of a trained killer, an Illyrian warrior.

A flicker of annoyance shone in his hazel eyes, glowing bright in the sunny rays streaming through the windows lining the halls of the manor.

He stalked quietly past you and out into the courtyard to the spies-in-training, his steps swift and precise.

Ice coated your veins at his dismissal.

You pushed against the rage threatening to lock up your limbs, following the winged asshole outside.

---------------------------

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[fuckyeselucien]

Hi all!

We have been loving the response to the blog, especially the weekly Creator Highlights! In an effort to ensure we're reaching as many creators as possible, we've created this handy FORM for you all to send in your favorite creators to be highlighted each week!

The form can be found here, as well as linked in our bio for easy access. Please send as many folks (including yourself!!!) as you'd like. Each name will go into a random name picker and one will be chosen at random each week.

You can find the form here!

[sapphicmsmarvel]

acotar characters and getting mad over silly, silly things

these are the things the characters get mad over, except they are super silly. 

This is a short one!

i.e. the only times they ever get mad at you, but it’s not toxic ❤️

Azriel

Just let this man zip your dresses up. He gets you want to be “independent” but just, let him zip the damn dresses. 

He also loves lacing up your corsets. 

He’ll press a kiss between your shoulder blades. Kiss the spot between your neck and shoulder. 

He loves the intimacy within the action, loves knowing that you are for him. 

Wrapping you up as a gift is just a plus. 

Cassian 

He gets mad when you open a door for yourself. He will race you to the door. Even shove you out of the way. 

it’s the gentlemen-like thing to do. 

He loves seeing your ass when you walk past him. 

He doesn’t want his babydoll lifting a finger. 

Rhysand 

if you don't let this man pull out your chair at a dinner table or function…. 

What a pouty bitch. 

It’s a simple claim of “they’re mine.” But also he just simply loves doing it. He loves to help you whenever he can, even if it’s something small like pulling out your chair. 

Plus, when he does it, he usually kisses your head or brushes his fingertips across your shoulders, making you shiver. 

Feyre 

Don’t you ever do your nails yourself. 

She loves working on a smaller canvas and painting your nails intricate designs is like therapy to her. She loves doing cheesy things like putting your initials together in a heart. 

Morrigan 

Let her do your makeup. It brings her so much joy to just stare at your face when you aren’t looking. It’s the one time she doesn’t feel like a creep doing it even though you’re her wife. 

When you close your eyes as she dusts some sparkly shadow across your lid, it making your skin tone pop.

And if you’re dark skinned? with metallic colors? That would kill her. 

Amren 

Putting your jewelry on for you. She’s a simple woman, just let her do your jewelry. You have hundreds nearing thousands of pieces she has given you. 

She knows what compliments your skin, or what looks good with an outfit. As well as what gems you like the most and what metals irritate your skin. 

When she puts your necklace around you, she’ll kiss the spot on your neck where the clasp is.  

Nesta 

She loves closing the clasp on your heels and tying your shoes. 

It’s the only time anyone will see her bow to someone else.  (besides the bedroom but they don’t see that). 

If you do it yourself, she literally makes you undo them, or she undos them, then she redoes it. She’ll be damned if you buckle your own shoes. While she’s down there, she’ll press a kiss to your thigh, calf, inner knee, ankle. Whatever she feels like.

Elain 

She loves doing your hair. Even brushing it after a bath, she doesn’t want you doing it. She wants to do it. 

She loves weaving flowers through it, braiding, any type of style. It’s therapy for her, to just sit there and play with her girl's hair. 

Lucien 

He doesn’t like you doing ‘boy jobs’, as in the dishes or some ridiculous shit like that. 

It’s not that he thinks you’re incapable it’s just, you’re his spouse you deserve better than taking out the trash! 

The definition of “my hands look like this, so theirs look like this” but again, not in a toxic way. Just a “my baby is my baby and i’ll be damned if they lift a finger.”

Eris 

He gets mad when you refuse to let him walk on the more dangerous side of a sidewalk or sleep in the spot closest to the door so he can protect you better if need be. 

He’s a natural protector and you are the love of his life. He’s not going to put you in danger even though you’ve told him nobody is waiting outside the bedroom door to kill you. 

But, you can never be too safe. 

Tarquin

Washing your hair, it’s really therapeutic for him to wash your hair. Even if you get embarrassed because if you have a flaky scalp it embarrasses you. But he loves just taking care of you. 

Nothing with him is embarrassing. Every hair wash day he’s there with your products as well as adding his own new thing, such as a mask or new leave in product.

[urpaperboy]

YV boys with the Headcanon Generator !! (Pt.4)

okay last part for now !! :))

[achaotichuman]

The Mother's Least Favourite Son

Out of spite, I have written this. Hope you guys like broken mating bond Lucien angst.

@lorcanisdabest here is the Lucien angst you oh so wanted~

Trigger warning- Suicide.

Lucien stumbled through the dark. Tripping over something thrown carelessly across the cobblestone ground, an arm shot out to grab the nearest wall to stabilise himself. Skin scraping against the cold wet stone, it burned as it pulled away, blood beginning to prick the surface. 

Why? 

Why did it have to-

He lurched forward, and a crate at his feet caused him to fall to the ground. Dirty water splashed across his face, ruining his formerly perfect clothing. His trousers now wet and stained. His pristine Night black jacket now half covered with mud. 

Fuck-

It lurched in his chest again. Screaming like a torture victim locked in a cage. Bleeding from the inside.

Golden threads that were cut and exposed like raw nerves. His heart beat faster than it ever had in his life. His hair fell around his face. Rain dripped down from above, beginning to race faster and faster to the surface of the earth, until it hurtled down upon him. 

The stars were no longer visible. The alleyway, and the darkness it provided was his only comfort or protection. 

A sob ripped from deep within the back of his throat. Each pitter of rain that fell upon him he felt starkly. Like needles were pouring down on him. 

Why?

What did he do wrong?

Fuck-

He asked for an answer, did he not?

He wanted to know what she wanted. 

Break it, or accept it. 

He offered his heart on a platter. 

Like his heart would ever be enough. 

He fell back against the wall behind him. Eyes tilted to the sky. 

What the fuck did he do to deserve this?

The sky held no answers, nothing spoke back to him. As his skin burned, flesh bubbling under the surface. 

The thunderclouds rolling in the sky tormented him. Laughing as it was split with lightning. Turning the sky to flashing works of silver. Velaris was laughing around him. The Court his mate belonged to pointed and ridiculed the outcast that thought it could crawl in and find comfort. 

No home Court. No mate. 

The Mother’s least favourite son. The Cauldron’s hated creation. 

Her eyes had held no remorse. No care. She hadn’t even put down her knife, as she cut vegetables on the wooden board. She looked up to him. Those soft brown iris had never looked harder. 

“Please, just an answer.”

The Inner Circle stood around him. Feyre flanking Elain’s left, and Nesta on her right. Rhysand picked a piece of lint from his jacket, eyes laughing even as his mouth was firmly straight. Cassian however looked fully and utterly amused at the situation. Azriel stood behind Elain, eyes dead on Lucien. Waiting like a trap to be sprung. 

“Then here’s your answer.” Elain whispered into the space between them. 

Then it broke. 

And Lucien screamed. 

Cassian practically dragged him out. His legs unable to hold him up for long periods of time. They let him fall to the ground. Rain starting. There was no sympathy in his eyes, not even a hint of pity. Just laughing amusement as the door slammed shut. 

Even from out there, in the cold of the night with the door separating the Fox from the inside, he could hear the cheering and the celebrations.

Chest heaving, skin too tight, fire burning and burning and burning. 

Through a window he saw the form of Azriel, shadowsinger, wrap his arms around his rejected mate. 

Lucien had run. 

Run and fell across the floor, scraping his arms before he ran again. 

Another wretched cry was torn from his throat, as he screamed to the sky, “Why? Why fucking me?”

What did I do wrong?

Hated son. 

Exiled. Outcasted. 

Were mates not supposed to love each other more than sun or moonlight? 

Were they not supposed to rather give themselves up then each other?

Where were the stories? Where were the tales? Why did he not get that?

Fucking why?

The cold rain dripped from strands of his hair, down his face, and disappeared down his neck. His body began to shiver, wishing, begging, to draw up fire to warm himself. He let his body shudder and quake, barely feeling the cold pressing in under the weight of the bond now floating out in nothing. 

Darkness edged in, spreading from some place in his chest through the rest of his body. Until he felt hollow, unseeing. Lucien could barely hear anything at all. 

A sharp pain shot through his side, and he looked up to see a male with green hair and purple skin. Wide eyes, all black, glaring down at him. 

“Beat it kid, no loitering around here.” He snarled. 

“Sorry, I’m, I’m sorry.” Lucien said quickly, voice quivering. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” The male said, as Lucien got to his stumbling feet. As the Fox made for the mouth of the alleyway, he heard him mutter, “Stupid kids.”

Stupid kid. 

Stupid kid indeed. 

Lucien left the alleyway. The rain pounded down harder, the thrum resembled the beating of drums. Lightning forked, and thunder cracked the sky. A familiar song, a dance that had followed him since the day Jesminda had been slaughtered in front of him. 

He had spent his days running from the song. The beating that would never cease, howling through the night, hurtling towards him. 

Death did not come silently. 

It came with war horns, riding into battle like screaming a cry. Music played in its wake. A tune no one had heard but everyone knew. 

Lucien closed his eyes, as his heart fell into sync with the beat. His voice a gentle hum as thunder whipped again. As that song raised its tune. 

He stuck his hands in his pockets. He looked ahead. And he winnowed. 

The view of Velaris gave way to dark foliage. Oranges and reds covered one side of the earth, and the other was filled with spidering dark greens and untrained brambles. 

The border of Spring and Autumn. 

The rain had not stopped. The storm had spread through Prythian as if waiting for him. 

It poured down upon him, until he was practically drowning on land. The ground of Autumn was practically unrecognisable as such, as the dried leaves were turned to muddy decay by the rain. 

Lucien fell back and stared up at the sky. 

A familiar tune. 

It had been waiting for him. 

The Mother’s least favourite son. 

He closed his eyes. 

He hoped he wouldn’t ever open them again. 

***

Three years passed and it never got better. 

It got worse. 

So, so much worse. 

Waking up and seeing the ceiling was agony. Most days he stopped bothering trying to get out of bed. Eating had become a rare occasion, so much so that Jurian and Vassa couldn’t hide their excitement when he took so much as a half bite out of his food. 

He didn’t know if Prythian remembered him; he hadn’t set foot in any of the Courts since the day Tamlin found him at the border. That was at least what he was told when he woke up. Something about the rotting High lord bringing him to the Band of Exile’s manor before disappearing back to Spring. 

Lucien didn’t care. All his thoughts were drowned out by mate, mate, mate, mate. 

He couldn’t think of anyone, of anything else, other than her brown eyes, and curls, and red stained cheeks and lips.

There was nothing else to him, nothing anymore. 

He stopped hoping she would return to him. As the darkness, the hollowness caved in. Pillars of marble in his mind turning to dust, whatever he used to know becoming nothing in the face of the broken bond. 

The last time he spoke, he didn’t know. The last time he went outside, he didn’t know. 

His skin was pasty, grey. His eyes deep with purple. Every bone on display, with his prosthetic eye sinking back into his socket, falling back from the shift in weight. 

His body was decaying. 

He stared at the ceiling. 

It wasn’t worth it. 

This would go on. 

And on.

And on, and on, and on. 

Prythian had forgotten him. His mate had rejected him. His last two friends, the last he could consider friends, were tied up with each other. 

He wasn’t worth his mate’s love. He wasn’t worth being remembered. 

“Might as well get it over with.” Lucien whispered to the ceiling, the first words he had vocalised in so long. 

For the first time in what may have been a week or more, he dragged himself from the bed he had practically become attached to. Limbs heavy, eyes fluttering, pain struck him from all sides and he wanted to fall back down and rot. 

But Jurian or Vassa would eventually convince him to a meal or something to keep him going if he stayed on the bed. 

So he walked. 

He walked to a dresser, where beside it laid a bag. It had all sort of provisions and things needed should he have been stranded somewhere in Prythian. He kept it packed ever since he was thrown out of Autumn. 

Mother’s least favourite son. Cauldron’s hated creation. 

Inside one of the back pockets was a long spiral of coarse rope. Rough against his weary hands as he pulled it out, a sudden disruption to the soft sheets Lucien was used to holding these days. 

Mother’s least favourite son. Cauldron’s hated creation. 

The curtain rod was sturdy and could hold a fair amount of weight, not that it mattered very much as he was practically just skin and bones. It took little to stand atop a chair by the window and put the rope over the rod. Part of Lucien wished Eris had never taught him to tie knots, if only so he didn’t know what to do now. 

Mother’s least favourite son. Cauldron’s hated creation. 

It was rough around his neck. He felt nothing. He didn’t want to feel anything. 

It was sunny outside. The flowers were in bloom. He saw Elain in the sunshine. In the flowers below him. He saw home in the ground, in the trees in the distance. He remembered the feelings of Autumn leaves under his hands. And he remembered the smell of pollen from Spring. He remembered the chill of Night’s air. 

He remembered her soft skin when he put his jackets over her arms after she came out of the Cauldron. 

Lucien let go of all memory as he let himself swing from the curtain rod. 

He hoped he wouldn’t remember in the Mother’s land of milk and honey. 

Mother’s least favourite son. 

Cauldron’s hated creation. 

[no-see-um-incorrect]

 Music head cannons for the Yuurivoice boys (i’ll be doing redacted next) the characters are gonna be getting playlist soon, so think of this as a prediction 

Auron 

This man has CORPSE on his playlist somewhere. If you’re talking about what the characters do outside of the audios together, my suspicion is that Alphonse probably showed him. Given his whole aesthetic, E-girls are ruining my life. Is probably the song he likes the most.

CODE MISTAKA. Is probably a close second.

My guess is he listens to a lot of like loud, hard rock music. He also probably has the whole reputation album by Taylor Swift on full blast while he’s cleaning his penthouse. Whenever I think of Auron I think of monster by skillet as his theme song 

Seth 

We already know he listens to Noah Kahan

But I raise you this 

Ed Sheeran. Specifically the songs.

The A Team & I don’t care

He has two playlists on Spotify  there’s one that’s just his normal playlist, and then a playlist titled

🚬Mama💋

(probably not with emojis but you get the idea)

Charlie

My pizza rat Boi~

No, I do not know why….but I have this thought in my head  of Charlie going through the neighborhood on his skateboard delivering pizzas singing ”milkshake by kelis” I don’t know why, but once I thought about it, it hasn’t left my head.

Just a lot of ass shake songs you know so he can shake what he doesn’t have(I said what I said)

Milkshake by kelis

Toxic by Britney Spears

Bottoms up by trey Songz 

 like his playlist is a roller coaster of 90s and early 2000s ass shake songs and songs that would make you cry for two hours 

Casper listens to his playlist for like 20 minutes and comes out like “Charlie, sweetheart love of my life……WHAT THE FUCK”

Alphonse 

This man’s hot shit And his music reflects that.

Candy shop by 50 Cent (that one’s obvious)

Stupid by Ashnikko

Girls/Girls/Boys by panic at the disco 

This is hot people music and Alphonse KNOWS he’s a hot person

Of course, any character with dead parents comes fully equipped with the using Music instead of therapy add on so amongst the hot people songs we’ve got

 supermarket flowers by Ed Sheeran 

Dog days are over by Florence + the machine 

Makes Me Sick by Addison Grace

His “sad boy hours” playlist borderline concerns, boo  and will make Seth cry if he listens to it.

Finn

I had to keep it together while thinking about the music of Finn. On one hand, I think it would be a lot of Positivity and loving yourself, music on the other hand….. this man was in emotionally, abusive relationship, 

Strawberry Blond by Mitski 

(this next one is a maybe)

Diet Culture by Brye

Soldier poet King by the oh hellos

But then we get into Sadboy territory  but also borderline Yan-Finn

He loves me (he loves me not) by Baby Bugs

TV by Billie Eilish 

Mr. potato head by Melanie Martinez 

(maybe) agoraphobic by CORPSE

A few other Melanie Martinez songs 

Lucian 

Buckle up 

Family line by Conan Gray

In my room by ICP

FACK by Eminem (hear me out)

Take me to Church by Hozier 

Mary on a Cross by Ghost 

He’s a demon, dirty minded, and the youngest son of the devil himself

The weirdest playlist of all time, and I am

here for it 

That is all for now. Have a great night everybody