#lucien vanserra

[elleybug]

“ By the time Lucien was born …

I had so little left to give.

My heart had turned cold. ”

—————————-

Brother feels 🦊🍁🔥

[labyrinthlover22]

me seeing this lucien art

𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐤: 𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 🔥

@lucienweekofficial

Here’s a little gift to my lovely friend @separatist-apologist

This Lucien artwork was created by @dkt.artist

They did such an INCREDIBLE job drawing Lucien! He looks so hot! I can’t get over it—-I literally SCREECHED with happiness!

And all the little details on Lucien’s outfit are amazing.

Thank you so much @dkt.artist for this wonderful piece of art!

It was so much fun to work with you! You killed it as always! ❤️

Link to Instagram post

Character belongs to Sarah J Maas

[lindyr]

How Elain feels about Lucien vs Azriel:

Lucien:

As Lucien took off his jacket, kneeling before Elain. She cringed away from the coat, from him-

Azriel:

Azriel knelt before her.. gently removed the gag from her mouth. “Are you hurt?” She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. “You came for me.”  Azriel scooped up Elain, looping her bound arms around his neck. “Hold tight,” he ordered her, “and don’t make a sound.” Elain glanced between us, but did not tremble. Did not cringe.

Lucien: 

It was the most uncomfortable thirty minutes I could recall. Lucien and Elain sat in stilted silence. Elain had picked up the teacup, and now sipped from it without so much as looking toward him.

Azriel:

Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise lounge across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports. Already dressed for the Hewn City—the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister within it.

Lucien:

She just ignored him or barely spoke to him until he got the hint and left.

Azriel: 

Elain said to Azriel, perhaps the only two civilized ones here, "Can you truly fly?" He set down his fork, blinking. I might have even called him self-conscious. He said, "Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind. " "That’s very beautiful," she said. "Is it not—frightening, though? To fly so high?" "It is sometimes," Azriel said.

Lucien:

And whether she cared about the bruises on his face, she certainly hadn’t let on.

Azriel:

“It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.” 

Lucien:

I nudged Elain, who blinked at me, then blurted, “You could come to Velaris.” “You’re welcome to stay for the night,” I said, since Elain certainly wasn’t going to. Lucien lowered his hands into his lap and leaned back in the armchair. “Thank you, but I have other plans.” I prayed he didn’t catch the slightly relieved glimmer on Elain’s face. “I don’t think she’ll tolerate two minutes alone with me.” “He brought you a present.” Those doe-brown eyes turned toward me. Sharper than I’d ever seen them. “And that entitles him to my time, my affections?”

Azriel: 

“I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand. Nesta monitored him like a hawk, but kept silent as Elain took his hand, and out they went. It was three by the time the others went to bed. Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight.

Lucien:

My sister rose to her feet. “I should get refreshments.” Lucien rose as well. “No need to trouble yourself. I’m- ” But she was already out of the room.

Azriel:

"I should go," Elain said, but made no move to leave.  

Lucien:

Her brown eyes were wary. Usually, that look was reserved for Lucien.

Azriel:

She looked up at him, her face so trusting and hopeful and open.

Lucien:

Though the male had brought a gift for Feyre and one for his mate, who barely thanked him after opening the pearl earrings. Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing. Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen.

Azriel:

He set her down gently on the foyer carpet, having carried her in through the front door. Azriel smiled faintly. “Would you like me to show you the garden?” But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded—just once. Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.” “It's beautiful," she whispered, lifting it from the box. The golden faelight shone through the little glass facets, setting the charm glowing with hues of red and pink and white. Azriel let his shadows whisk away the box as she said softly, "Put it on me?" 

Elain's actions, words, and body language make it clear to me that Azriel is the one she has strong feelings for. Feelings that she simply can't hide.

[sadiegirl2021]

"You are the bane of my existence. And the object of all my desires."

But why is this Elain's love confession to Lucien!?

[whatisamettafor]

Tumblr will probably decide the bulges are too obscene so enjoy the ghosts of modesty.

To see their cute little manties, check out the patreon

[inkedinshadows]

Oh my god. This is a masterpiece. I loved every second of it. The style, the metaphors, and parallels with stars and physics, LUCIEN 🥹

gravity

pairing: lucien x reader

summary: falling in love with lucien felt like trying to resist gravity and realizing it’s a futile pursuit. slowly, and then all at once.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: none/mostly fluff!

a/n: i played around a little bit with my writing style and i really enjoyed it :’) also i’m only capable of writing fluff for lucien i think lol

masterlist

banners by @/cafekitsune !

lucien: derived from the Latin root word lux, meaning light. 

When you had first felt yourself falling for Lucien Vanserra some odd years ago, you had been keeping a watchful eye on him — per Rhys’s request — upon his initial arrival to the Night Court under the guise that you would help him research ways to persuade the human queens to your cause against Hybern. 

Initially, it had been just that. A favor for your High Lord, your friend. 

But what had once felt like a vague indifference for the youngest Vanserra brother quickly devolved into a genuine appreciation for him. The more time you spent with Lucien, the more you glimpsed the light peeking out from beneath his guarded exterior.

(You nearly laughed at how aptly Lucien lived up to the brightness belying the meaning of his name.)

It had started with friendly teasing, then secret smiles over piles of textbooks, then not so accidental touches in the quiet of the townhouse. With each evolution of your relationship with Lucien, the more and more you found yourself wanting to be around him, seeking each other out with flimsy excuses that would guarantee a day’s worth of cherished company. 

The inextricable desire you had to be near him that was growing exponentially with every subtle glance he stole had made you nervous. Wary, even. 

You were an academic – the coveted researcher for the Night Court – relying heavily on concepts you could study, could quantify. Well-evidenced theory informed much of your advice to Rhys and his court, and you were often the first point of contact when anyone had any questions about…anything; your wealth of knowledge was endless.

But Lucien — his undeniable magnetism — was an enigma; you could never quite understand why you’d felt so drawn to him, could never formulate an accurate hypothesis for how easily he could coax a smile to your lips and make butterfly wings tickle your stomach.

But it was becoming increasingly evident that he felt the same indisputable pull that you did. He had spent much of his time in your presence, bringing you tea in the late hours of the nights you spent in the townhouse’s reading room, poring over tomes and texts that you and Amren had thought might be useful. Lucien always made the excuse that he made too much tea and didn’t want it to go to waste. 

(Later, you’d find out that he didn’t even really like the tea he brought you every night, only brewing an excessive amount of it because Feyre had offhandedly mentioned it was your favorite.) 

He was rarely there to give his opinions, merely lingering to offer his quiet companionship, situating himself in a comfortable lounge chair in your periphery as he perused the pages of his book of choice. More often than not, he’d fall asleep in what had to be a supremely uncomfortable position, untouched tea cooling on the table. 

It was in those sweet and fragile beginnings of your relationship with Lucien that you had begun to contemplate the potential cosmic underpinnings of your mutual fondness for each other, and what that could mean for you and your future. 

Orbiting each other like stars caught in the same gravitational field, you and Lucien were on a steady course of stellar collision, sure to erupt in some unexplainable astral phenomenon that would certainly result in your doom. Or your salvation. 

(It was the latter.)

The same way you could track the trajectory of an apple falling from a tree and calculate the force with which it would hit the ground, you could guess — with near one hundred percent accuracy — how hard you would fall for Lucien. It was a dangerous descent, you knew, but one that you could hardly fight against. 

Despite being quite the closet romantic — how could you not be, with the knowledge of endless possibilities at your fingertips? — you had been hesitant to pursue anything more with Lucien, wanting to preserve the innocent, lighthearted flirtations that had come so easily between you. You’d been hurt before, been wickedly tricked into the dangerous downward spiral of broken promises and fleeting loyalty of lovers past. And you’d be damned if you’d let yourself make that mistake again. 

But Lucien…

Lucien was all of things your previous paramours had not been. He was kind and gentle and genuine. Funny and insufferably sweet. He was a wonderfully fresh breath of air in an otherwise stagnant atmosphere. 

He had his darkness — he’d admitted as much to you himself. But he had never hidden it from you, had even allowed you the privilege of holding the most tender parts of his past in your hands to examine, always providing ample opportunities for you to deny him, decide that you didn’t want all the pieces of his whole after all.

You had never been afraid of the dark, though, not in the literal or metaphorical sense. It was comforting, quiet, familiar. Besides, before Lucien, you had never found a light bright enough to fear the return of the dark. 

But when faced with the sheer enormity of the warmth his light provided, suddenly you were afraid of its absence. You wanted only to spend your time basking beneath the sun you had discovered beneath Lucien Vanserra’s ribs. 

It was torturously paradoxical, how the more you chased Lucien’s light the more you were plunged into the dark unknown of what loving him would mean, and how afraid you had become. But resisting Lucien’s solar gravity was like trying to defy the very laws that governed the universe you were lucky enough to live in with him: near impossible. 

The way he so effortlessly drew you to him, enticed you to trust him, open yourself to him was something that the greatest physicists of your time could never explain. It was a mystery you weren’t sure you wanted solved for fear that once discovered, he’d be taken from you; you selfishly wanted to keep Lucien’s impossibly beautiful energy to yourself. 

He was undefinable in his unwavering loyalty and limitless consideration. Lucien’s love for you seemed to be as intrinsically written into his existence with the same certainty that you knew the sun would rise over the horizon every morning. It was with that same certainty that you knew falling in love with him was inevitable, and fighting it was a futile resistance of gravity.

So you had let yourself fall, let yourself dive deep into the unknown, praying – begging, really – to whatever gods that were listening that this wasn’t another funnel towards heartbreak. 

You fell with maddening speed and Lucien caught you – having already fallen long ago – with all of the warmth of the sun that his name promised.

If your past self had ever doubted the stability of loving Lucien Vanserra (read: you did), none of that doubt existed in you now. Especially in moments like this: skin to skin in the morning light of the first spring day in the Night Court. Three years since you and Lucien (separate) became you and Lucien (duo), you could hardly believe that you ever considered any other choice but him.

The sun was warm on your back as you lay on your side, arm tucked comfortably beneath your head as you listened to Lucien give you his annual spiel about how the springs in the Spring Court were unbeatable, though the Night Court did have some acceptable weather sometimes. You giggled at his remarkable consistency, love and fondness filling the space between your ribs, momentarily seizing your heart to flutter giddily.

“Okay, Lu,” you responded in mock exasperation. “And then in the fall –”

“Autumn,” he corrected, just to jest further.

“ – you’re going to tell me that the Autumn Court has the best autumns.”

“Naturally.” His grin was blinding as he teased you, pressing a firm kiss between your brows. 

You rolled your eyes but gave in, leaning in towards him – always leaning in towards him (that pesky gravity again).

“But I guess your court,” he continued, “has us beat as far as stargazing goes.”

“Naturally,” you mimicked, winking.

His laugh was a resounding bell of warmth and you took the opportunity to drink him in, warm skin tinted pink with joy and the heat of the morning sun. His hair was disheveled with sleep, but he was impossibly effortless in his beauty.  

The freckles on his cheeks reminded you a lot of the stars that illuminated the streets of Velaris, and you spent the next few hours of the early morning drawing constellations on his skin and fabricating stories of their origin while Lucien’s own fingers drew matching patterns onto your back.

He whispered cheesy lines about how you outshone all of the stars in your beloved Night Court, and then his cheeks dimpled — beautiful craters of mirth — as he smiled at your feigned incredulity. He kissed you then, and you once again found yourself at the mercy of his gravitational pull, your body arching almost instinctively against his in an effort to satisfy your craving for the feel of his skin against yours. 

Lucien – as always – indulged you, snaking a muscled arm around your waist to pull your body flush against his as he whispered in your ear about how he had heard once that freckles were the spots that past life lovers had kissed the most. In an act of petulant pseudo jealousy at the idea that someone had the privilege of loving Lucien before you, you spent the rest of the morning peppering his skin in a thousand kisses. 

“No need to be jealous, my love,” he said as you anchored your lips to the apple of his cheek. “I’m certain that in every life before this one, I enjoyed the pleasure of your affections. And I will continue to find you in every one after.”

Maybe that was it. Maybe the undeniable, visceral need to have him, be with him, love him was written into your bones by the infinite previous lives you spent within each others’ orbit. Your devotion to Lucien seemed as intrinsic as the laws of the universe; there was no life in which you did not feel the warmth of his yearning. 

You hummed in contented agreement, feeling as though you’ve just discovered the unthinkable as you continued your quest, reveling in the gentle shiver you earned with a well placed kiss to the junction of his jaw and neck. For a brief moment, you made a mental note to thank whatever force – physical, cosmic, celestial – that had bound you and Lucien together.

[randomdumsblog]

The lack of Lucien fanfics is driving me crazy!

It's all about Az, and I mean, love Azriel, but guys, Lucien is right there!! Give the fox some love!

Pls pls pls, if there are any recommendations for luciens' fics, send me

[acourtofthought]

Graysen / Elain

Azriel / Elain

Lucien about Elain

Mates for the Win

[me-amora]

Eris has charm and Lucien has rizz.

"Oh but it's the same thi-" No... It isn't. And this makes sense in my head but please don't ask me to explain it

[littlefireling]

This commission was originally for @lucienweekofficial Day 1 - Gentleman but I commissioned it a bit too late. However, I thought I would still share it with you guys <3

Rhysand and Tamlin putting their differences aside to support Lucien as he prepares for his mating ceremony. I don’t think there is anything more gentlemanly than that.

P.S. Don’t worry, Az and Cass are on their way, the Valkyries are just taking forever to get ready.

P.S.S I hope when ACOTAR is a completed series, everyone gets along and just simply loves and supports each other. I think that’s all Lucien truly wants and it would make him the happiest fox in the world.

Art by: @shaarpie

Commissioned by me (@littlefireling)

Tysm! This piece is so beautiful and they all look gorgeous 🥹❤️

**Reposts are okay with proper credit**

[oristian]

“Elain shall wed for love and beauty,” can easily be applied to Elucien as Lucien is canonically incredibly beautiful.

That is all.

[toolsofmyenemy]

Elain’s reluctance and Lucien’s longing is the set up for them.

[snowdropflowers]

Elucien - 💕

by whimsicalillustration - [Instagram]

[labyrinthlover22]

Eluciens and Gwynriels be like:

[embracingdaylight]

I look forward to hearing Lucien call Elain his "good girl" (or something like it) in the Graphic Audio version of their book.

I mean, Lucien has the same VA as Xaden from Fourth Wing. Beyond fucking hot. I put his scenes on repeat just to listen to him talk.

[bindinglove]

remember when feyre was like man i really don’t want to wear pretty dresses, paint, and spend tamlin’s money all day ://////

literally can NOT relate to something less than that