#lucien vanserra

[lucychanart]

a slice of life🦊

[tidal-graves]

Something I don't see people talk about is how even though Azriel saves Elain from Hybern's Camp, he can't break her shackles-- only Helion, sunlight personified, can (and theoretically anyone with his powers). It's such a random thing to throw in. It doesn't add tension or anything because it's resolved about two sentences later. There is no reason to add this detail except, like, maybe foreshadowing how while Azriel might be able to save Elain from danger, he can't free her from her shackles. She'll never truly be free with him-- and we see this in SF when he actively works against her desire for something beyond her garden. Sure he might be able to save her and protect her but as long as that extends to the degree of being overprotective she will never be able to actually be free.

Meanwhile, the magical gloves Lucien gives her seems to serve the same purpose on the surface, but he is literally gifting her something that will allow her to embrace danger with precaution. He's basically saying "if you want to plant and tend to roses even though they might prick you, that's fine-- just be as safe as possible while you do it." Because Lucien knows better than anyone that the best way to protect someone you love is by giving them the means to do it themselves.

[crazy-ache]

On Elain Archeron's Heart

Graysen: "I am not marrying you. Our engagement is over. I will take whatever people occupy your lands. But not you. Never you."

Azriel: "This was a mistake.”

And then I predict the third and final time will go something like this...

Lucien: It’s you. It’s always been you, always supposed to have been you. You’re the only one I want. You could have taken centuries and I wouldn't have cared, for you were always worth the wait. I was always going to wait for you. I am yours. My heart is yours. Forever, eternally, yours.

[kvsoin]

"Are you hurt?" he asked, coming towards us. Spying the blood speckling Elain's hands

"I'm fine," Elain said quietly. And then asked, noticing the gore on him, the torn clothes and still-bloody weapons, "Are you---"

"Well, I never want to fight in another battle as long as I live, but ... yes, I'm in one piece."

A faint smile bloomed on Elain's lips.

Ugh! There's something about this scene that makes me smile so much. I love it!

[acourtofaudacity]

Idk about you but if I was mated to someone who ignored me, refused to talk to me, and was flirting or at least interested in someone else I wouldn't be able to stand being in the same room as them either. Not because I wouldn't be attracted to them but because it would hurt a lot.

[acourtofthought]

Daydreaming that after Lucien inherits Day, Azriel wants to give Gwyn a pegusus for her mating gift so he has to play nice with Lucien in order to ask him for one.

*little thoughts like this make me feel better whenever I think of the "Lucien will never be good enough for her" line 😂

[creativelydani]

YES

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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

[ladybirdswritings]

BEHIND CLOSED DOORS, FIC — rhysand x reader.

DESCRIPTION: an anonymous journalist exposes the dark secrets of prythian’s elite, but when rhysand, the sharp and relentless owner of the night court gentleman’s club, uncovers her identity, she’s thrust into a dangerous game of blackmail, power, and unexpected attraction. NOTES - i HAD to do an ACOTAR fic. this is a modernish au with the brother’s best friend & enemies to lovers tropes. rhys is a rich playboy, reader hates him. steaminess ensues. leave me all your thoughts and opinions. i love them <33 | next part

one;

“I’m going to tear that wretched bitch limb from limb the moment I find them.”

You flinched as glass slammed against the counter, the sharp sound reverberating through the otherwise quiet house.

Rhysand was never subtle. Even in stillness, he commanded a room like a shadow cursed to expand—endless, suffocating, all-consuming. Tonight, he was a storm unrestrained.

He didn’t look at you. He never did. Then again, no one else did either, not with you tucked behind a fortress of old books. Romances, plenty to keep you sated. Tonight, you sat at the table, half-buried in their pages, your too-large glasses slipping down the bridge of your pointy nose.

And there he was—draped in black silk and leather, his movements precise despite the whiskey in his hand. The veins in his forearm protruded most inhumanly as he gripped his glass, his jaw taut with sparsely-contained frustration. Lucien, ever the diplomat, poured him another drink with the practiced ease of someone who’d been smoothing over Rhysand’s outbursts for years. He had.

“The fine people of Prythian won’t care about whatever drivel this so-called author is printing,” Lucien said smoothly. “The Night Court has been thriving, Rhys. No need to let petty gossip get under your skin.”

Gossip.

You winced at the dismissal, your knuckles tightening around the spine of your book. It wasn’t just gossip. It was your work. Your words. The invisible sister of Lucien Vanserra had finally found her voice—albeit from the shadows. If no one would listen to your words spoken aloud, they’d damn well read them. At first, it had been an act of silent rebellion, a catharsis as much as a challenge.

It wasn’t supposed to go this far.

Behind closed doors had spread like wisteria vines through Prythian’s small town and beyond, and the Night Court’s elite. And while they laughed and whispered about the scandalous columns over their evening drinks, you watched from afar, quietly vindicated. No one could suspect the shy, unassuming adoptive sister of Lucien—odd, foreign, and entirely overlooked. It was empowering. It was ironic.

And it was dangerous.

“Trashy gossip?” Rhysand echoed, his voice low and cutting, dragging your thoughts back to the present. He smoothed a sheet of parchment across the counter, your latest piece, the inked words practically searing into his violet eyes. “Do you think the author would call it merely gossip? Or perhaps truth, Lucien?”

He read aloud, mockery dripping from his tone. “‘The pretty ladies of the Night Court have found their respect elsewhere. Swaying hips grow tired of catering to the insatiable demands of Prythian’s elite, their so-called leader no better than the braying beasts who frequent his clubs.’”

Your heart hammered as his voice sliced through the air, cold and unrelenting. Hatred dripped like serpent’s venom from his pearled teeth. Rhys crumpled the paper in one hand and let it fall to the floor, his lips curling into a humorless smile.

“Poetic, isn’t it?” he sneered, downing the last of his whiskey. “Two of my finest dancers fled last month, and suddenly, every fool with a pen thinks they’re the arbiter of truth. Do you think they imagine themselves clever?”

Lucien frowned, pouring himself a drink now. “You’re letting this rubbish get under your skin. I doubt anyone takes it so severely.”

“Oh, they do take it severely,” Rhys said darkly, quickly— running a hand through his perfected raven locks. “Whoever’s writing this isn’t just clever. They’re precise. Calculated. This isn’t some scorned drunkard’s ramblings; it’s surgical. And you—” he jabbed a finger in Lucien’s direction, “—you’re telling me to laugh it off while my name and my life’s work is dragged through filth?”

You sank deeper into your chair, praying they wouldn’t notice you. A silly worry seeing as most times, they never did.

“Whoever wrote this, I imagine they know you well,” Lucien said, his tone light but edged with something sharper. “You think it’s a man?”

Rhys scoffed. “Of course, it’s a man. No woman is that cunning.”

A sour taste filled your mouth, and you finally dared to glance up. His words, so casually spoken, ignited something in your chest. He was dismissing you. Because what, you didn’t hone the same parts as he did? Annoyance surged your posture straighter and your palms to fists. Before you could stop yourself, you muttered under your breath, “I think whoever wrote it doesn’t like you very much, Rhysand.”

The room stilled.

Lucien choked on his drink, half-shocked, half-amused. Rhysand, however, turned slowly, his violet gaze locking onto you with the weight of a predator assessing prey. Bat to bleeding, weak little bug. For a heartbeat, the world seemed to narrow to the space between the two of you. You only dared a blink when his lips curved into a slow, mocking smile.

“And what would you know of such things?” he asked, his voice dangerously soft. “You hardly seem the literary type.” His sarcasm was a direct mockery of what he’d called “rubbish” on more than one occasion. Your romance novels.

“Works of the devil, himself. Keep reading that rubbish and it will keep you lonesome forever.” He’d said once, one of the only times he’d spared you any words.

Heat flared in your cheeks, but you held his gaze, refusing to shrink beneath it. “Maybe not,” you said, barely above a whisper, “but I know truth when I read it.”

Rhys tilted his head, the smile slipping from his face. His stare lingered, uncomfortably long, as though he were trying to peel back your skin and see what lay beneath. You squirmed in your seat.

Lucien stepped in before the tension could thicken further. “Careful, Rhys. She’s sharper than she looks.” He gave you a fond glance, but his words carried an undertone of warning. Behave.

“Sharper?” Rhys echoed, turning back to his drink. “Hardly. Your sister is as meek as they come.”

You gritted your teeth, your nails digging into the dilapidated cover of your book. Without another word, you stood abruptly, the legs of your chair scraping against the floor. You gathered your things with deliberate slowness, each movement a silent protest, before stomping toward the stairs.

Behind you, Lucien sighed. “She won’t appreciate your company if you spend the night.”

Rhys’s laugh was low and awfully amused. “Even more reason to stay, then.” There was a gleam in his wicked eyes.

You clenched your jaw, willing yourself not to turn back. But as you ascended the stairs, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Rhysand’s violet eyes lingered on you far longer than they should have.

“She doesn’t like you,” Lucien said once you were out of earshot.

Rhys was silent for a strained moment before he finally spoke, his tone almost… thoughtful. “No,” he murmured, more to himself than his old friend. “She doesn’t.”

The realization hung in the air, heavy and inevitable. And somewhere, deep in the pit of your stomach, you felt the first flicker of unease. Why had he assessed you, spared you a glance for a moment longer than necessary? It was unlike him. It was for a reason. It had to be.

Though you tried to convince yourself that your mind was only making shadows from things that were not in the light yet— you just couldn’t shake the feeling…

Your secret was no longer safe.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Bets

Summary: being bet on was not in Y/n's plans for the year, nor was being confessed to.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 2080

Warnings: none honestly, except ic placing bets on yn and luc, and luc eavesdropping lol. kinda a crackfic 🤭

A/n: based on this request. it took me like over a year to get to it, but i love it hehe. lucien.exe is my fav to write 😚

(not proofread we ride like men 💪🏻)

ANYWAY ENJOYYYY 🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

"So... Lucien?"

Y/n flushed, dropping her gaze onto the apple she was peeling for Nyx as Feyre fed him the tiny pieces of fruit.

"Yes."

Y/n could see Feyre grin, even as her eyes stayed focused on the fruit.

From next to Y/n, Nesta cut in. "How long has this infatuation been going on for?"

Y/n finally raised her eyes, glancing once at the knowing smile of Mor before she turned to Nesta. "Since he came to the Night court."

"So are you going to do anything about it?"

"I... don't know. Should I?"

Nesta sighed. "What do you like about him?"

Y/n swallowed, thinking. "He’s so kind. He is caring, and he’s just got these gorgeous eyes." she leaned back, her eyes floating away from her friends and fixated on the window, her lips tilting in a smile.

"Even the scars?" Feyre had a glint in her eyes that Y/n could not understand, but she ignored it.

"Especially those scars. They’re so beautiful. They are a testament to his bravery and everything he’s survived."

"Okay okay that’s cute and all, but" Nesta huffed, not interested in Y/n’s speech about his bravery. Y/n was not surprised. "What about his muscles? Surely you’re not that innocent to not have fantasised." Y/n could feel the smirk in Nesta’s voice, and she huffed.

"That is mean of you. I am indeed very innocent and nice minded."

Mor snorted. "Yeah. Not one of us believes that."

Y/n rolled her eyes, turning to Nyx. "You believe me, right?"

The little toddler, despite not understanding, raised his fist, babbling nonsense happily. Y/n smiled, running her hand over his fingers gently, her mind going back to Lucien.

The very first time she had interacted with him, she had fallen for him right then and there. She said as much to her nosy friends, reminiscing.

Y/n had taken up the job of taking his dinner to him, as he was still getting adjusted to the sudden relocation. Feeding people was something Y/n loved immensely, so she had made the dinner that night after asking Y/n for Lucien’s favourites.

He had opened the door when she knocked, brows furrowed, and she had smiled at him. "Dinner for you."

Lucien had nodded then, opening the door wider to take the tray from her. To be polite, he had also asked her to come in. Y/n contemplated, but agreed, wanting to get him to trust them, to show him that the inner circle wished no ill will.

The two had sat and talked for hours, and with each word he spoke, Y/n’s admiration for the male grew. The way he seemed so eloquent, so knowledgeable. He had a curious soul, and Y/n figured he liked to learn new things.

"Thank you for the dinner. Whoever made it must have some sort of magic, because this is one of the best foods I've ever had." He had mumbled, his lips forming a small smile.

Y/n had only blushed, ducking her head. "Don’t thank me. I hope you liked it. I made it."

His eyebrows had risen in surprise. "I didn’t- mother, it was delicious."

Y/n giggled, taking Nyx from Feyre after he pushed away a piece of apple for the third time. "He was so nice to me, even though he had every right to hate me. I guess my infatuation started then."

"That does not seem like infatuation to me, you know." Feyre said, smirking.

Y/n’s cheeks reddened, and she ducked her head to Nyx’s, trying to hide it. She was right, it was no infatuation. It was love, plain and simple.

Nyx giggled, his fist wrapping around Y/n’s hair and tugging. She gently pried it away from him, pulling him close to her. "Maybe. But can you blame me? He’s such a great person."

"Handsome too." Nesta piped up, making Y/n laugh.

"That too. But he’s kind, and to me, that is the most attractive thing about a male. He reads too, loves poems. Which makes me love him a little more."

Y/n glanced up helplessly, wondering if she would ever get the confidence to say these things to him. And then wished she hadn’t looked up, because looking past Nesta, her gaze met with the same mismatched gaze she had been praising a few minutes ago.

He stared back at her, looking as embarrassed as he felt. His eyes remained wide, his cheeks reddening with each moment he continued to hold eye contact.

"Oh Mother…" Y/n whispered to herself, feeling herself burn, feeling like she was caught stealing cookies. "I need to go." She whispered to no one in particular, handing Nyx to Feyre quickly before winnowing off.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Lucien had never thought, not even in his dreams, that he’d get confessed love to on a random friday. Almost, technically confessed to.

He had had nothing to do all day, and so he had accepted Cassian’s invitation to join him and the other two illyrians for some drinks. The evening had gone exceptionally well, with the four males laughing like never before, discussing sports and gagging when any of them talked about what was going on with their mates and romantic life.

Well, except for Lucien, of course. He didn’t have a mate. And he was not complaining, as he did not have the lack of females flinging themselves onto him.

But still, he couldn’t help but acknowledge that having someone to hold at night and love at all times would be a nice thing.

Rhysand had Feyre, Cassian had Nesta. Azriel and Gwyn had recently found out about their bond and were going to accept it soon, from what Azriel said. He was putting it off for when things would feel right, for when he deemed his preparations special enough to be worthy of his mate.

And Lucien wondered, how would it feel, to have that kind of love, that kind of awareness of another being that was made for him. To have someone’s very soul intertwined with his.

But he also wondered, what would it feel like to choose someone to love, someone he chose to spend his life with. And when he thought about that, only one name came to his mind.

Y/n.

If he had to choose, it would be her. He already had what he assumed was infatuation with the female. The way she spoke, her voice, her wit, her smartness. The way her eyes always lit up when talking about something she loved, it mesmerised Lucien. The way she hated doing something physical, be it training, or climbing too many stairs. It was amusing to find her groaning and huffing when Cassian even mentioned doing an extra hour of training.

He knew almost everything about her. From the way she liked her coffee to her favourite books, he knew it all. Had read those books so she’d have someone to discuss it with too.

The only thing he didn’t know was whether she reciprocated his feelings. But he didn't have to wait longer to find out, as the moment he stepped into the River house, he heard her voice, giggling along with her friends, talking about him.

He had frozen in his spot, his eyes moving to the smirking face of Rhysand, and then he’d heard Feyre asking Y/n about his scars. He knew she was aware of his presence, and her still asking the question, sounding like his scars were something Y/n wouldn’t have liked, it made Lucien sad. He hated those scars as it was. If Y/n didn’t like them, Lucien would likely have a breakdown.

But then he heard Y/n’s response, and he knew Feyre asked the question for his own benefit.

He had begun to blush the longer Y/n spoke, her voice giddy and filled with so much love. When he couldn’t stand there and be the object of the illyrian males’ amused and teasing glances, he stepped into the living room, his gaze quickly finding Y/n.

He didn’t look at him at first, so busy smiling and cuddling Nyx. The boy too seemed to love the attention he was getting, giggling and babbling happily as he fisted her hair. Y/n pulled him to her chest, and it made Lucien melt on the inside the way Nyx melted into her chest.

He almost wished it was him she was hugging, and then immediately he felt like an idiot for trying to compare with a baby.

And then she had met his gaze, her face flushing as chagrin stole across her eyes, and she hurried to hand Nyx back to Feyre and winnow away before Lucien could say anything.

Oh, but how he wished she hadn’t.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Y/n’s pov.

Y/n hid away for two full days before Lucien finally came knocking on her door. She had hoped he would leave her alone, but alas, he knew all her secret hideouts.

She cursed herself for showing him all of them like an overexcited toddler when she found herself staring back at him once she opened the door.

"Lucien." she mumbled in greeting, moving aside to let him into her home. It was almost on the outskirts of the city, the surroundings quiet and peaceful. It was part of the reason she had bought it, to be able to turn her mind off and just exist when her friends got too much to handle.

Lucien smiled, walking in and settling down on the couch. "It took me long enough to find you. I must admit, I was going crazy trying to figure out where you could be after that night."

Y/n covered her face, embarrassed. She hadn’t expected him to talk about that evening so early on in the conversation.

His soft laugh drew her from her self deprecating thoughts, and she parted her fingers to look at him. He stared back at her, his eyes soft and that beautiful smile on his lips. He looked so carefree, like some sort of burden had been lifted from him.

"Y/n, I came here to tell you… I like you too. A lot."

She blinked, surprised. But instead of explaining himself, he stood, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and tugging gently. She let him pry her hands off her face and push her to sit onto the couch, her eyes fixed on his hands because she was too shy to meet his gaze.

He kneeled in front of her, holding her hands tightly in his. His gaze was fixated on their connection, but Y/n knew that he was paying more attention to her than what he looked at.

"I’ve been wanting to talk to you about it for quite some time now, but I always stopped because I didn’t know whether you liked me back."

Y/n raised a brow. "You must be blind, then, because everyone could tell I did."

He laughed. "Well, apparently they all could, if they had bets going."

Her mouth dropped open as he glanced up at her with a small smirk. "They- they bet on us?"

He nodded. "Mor, Nesta, Feyre and Rhys won."

"I have so many questions."

He moved to sit beside her. "The girls said that we’d be confessing before spring. Rhys would never go against Feyre, so he too forced his way into their group."

Y/n snorted. "Typical Rhys behaviour."

"Cassian threw a fit after you left, saying that was not a confession. But he had to pay up because Gwyn, Az and Amren already did at dinner."

Y/n huffed, leaning into his side. "This is stupid. Never imagined I would be bet upon."

His arms wound tight around her without a moment’s delay. "Neither did I, but here we are."

The two sat in blessed silence for a moment, before Lucien decided to shatter it. He leaned in, his breath hot at her ear as he whispered, trying to be sultry.

"So. My muscles? I heard you fantasize about them."

"I also fantasize about killing you sometimes. Wanna hear about that?" Y/n snapped, glaring up at him even as her cheeks burned.

He only laughed, unaffected by her scowl, and closed the distance between them. First, he pressed his lips to her cheek. Then her eyes. Forehead. Nose. Then finally.

Finally, he kissed her.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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Lucien Vanserra Taglist: @mirandasidefics @tele86

[shadowhunter2003]

Sometimes I think I am okay then I remember the first thing Lucien did after fighting in the war was run across shore, haggard and bloody, just to get to Elain and check on her.

[primulagoldworthy]

I don't know how, or if, he is ever going to get over what happened to Jesminda. 😭 Lucien is the best character SJM has ever written.

i was rereading some of acomaf and this

when feyre accidentally slips into luciens head for the first time…. ‘endlessly sad and guilt-ridden, hopeless’ IF LUCIEN DOESN’T GET TO BE HAPPY IN THE NEXT BOOK IM STARTING A RIOT I CANNOT HANDLE MORE SAD LULU

[acourtofmishapandmistakes]

Credit to twitter: Nikki Nasty (@nicoleafiee) & Trin (@lovelltrin)

[shadowqueenjude]

Getting on my alt was a mistake because I haven’t blocked anybody on it and tell me why some fucking Elriel compared Lucien stans to creepy boy moms…

I’m done with this fandom istg.

[umthisistheonlyusernamenottaken]

Perfection.

May I offer for your consideration,

The Lady of Autumn (Olivia Cooke)

and Helion (Amar Chadha- Patel) ?

While I'm on an ACOTAR fancast kick, I'd like to formally jump on the 'Vito Basso as Lucien Vanserra' bandwagon. With long, red hair and a golden eye?? C'MON; HE'S SO BABY GIRL.

[ratgirl2020]

"Lucien is tied to the most traumatic event of her life"

As if Rhys wasn't there under the mountain with Feyre, coercing her into a bargain for aid.

I understand that people want their ship to happen but please be serious.