Death After Noon

Indepedent, canon multimuse blog featuring muses from Genshin Impact, ACOTAR, anime, and more. Written by Betsy. Selective. Low activity. 21+. Under construction. (interest tracker and more muses to come)

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It really was miraculous- the way that he could completely forget himself and the rest of the world when he was with her. There were a million things that Lucien always had to be thinking of and worrying about and a million more that he thought and worried about regardless of whether they were his responsibility or not. Somehow though, when it was just him and Feyre, his mind was quiet. Everything was calm, from the dull, satisfied ache in his muscles to the steady sound of her breathing. 

He couldn’t even remember how long it had been since he’d swept her off of the bed and carried her over to the bath, settling his back against the edge of it with one arm extending along the porcelain and the other draped loosely around his partner’s shoulders where she was relaxing against his chest. The rise and fall of her own chest beneath his arm was enough to lull him to near sleep. Paired with the exhaustion after they’d spent hours exerting themselves so blissfully, he kept having to bring himself back from the edge of unconsciousness. He wanted to savor this. There were few moments that were so delightfully peaceful. So, every time the water began to cool, he dipped his fingertips into the water and sent Autumn Court fire into it to warm it again before resuming his hold on the woman between his legs. He’d extend this as long as he could.

In a few hours, they’d have to greet the day as the High Lord and Lady of the Day Court again. They’d both fallen into the roles rather comfortably, but there were still certain duties that that came with them. Right now though, he was just Lucien, and she was just Feyre. That Lucien was the one who couldn’t help but smirk when he heard a small hiss as she shifted her legs. “Sore?” He teased. “My lady, what ever have you been doing?” Of course, he knew full well what had left her sore. It was exactly what had left him rather exhausted. And he’d happily do it again.

Shifting his hand from where it had been dangling over the edge of the tub, he used it to brush her hair away from her shoulder so he could dip his head down and press a lingering kiss to her neck. “You should be more careful. It’d be a shame if anything happened to this body.” He breathed against her skin. “I can’t begin to tell you how fond of it I am.”

Nyx was used to odd hours, impossible hours. There were always late nights followed by mornings that began before first light. Few days off, and even on those, his body was still used to waking up early. Even spending the night in a bed that wasn’t his own, without his alarm clock dutifully set to wake him from what was always restless sleep anyway, he still rose when the sun just barely had as well. He blinked away the remnants of sleep, forcing his consistently unpleasant dreams back, too. 

The view from Gwyn’s bedroom window helped pull him from the past. It was nicer than his. Not that he had an actual bedroom window. The bars on the window of his sparse little studio broke up the view of Insomnia’s dingy underbelly. Here though, he could see the city glittering in all its glory in the early morning light. It seemed fitting. She belonged in a place like this, somewhere bright and airy, where the sunlight wasn’t going gray with smog by the time it got down through the dirty glass. 

After a few more moments of admiring the view, he turned to get his first look of the day at a much better one, fully expecting to have woken up long before she did. He would have preferred waking up the way he’d fallen asleep, with his arm across her waist and her back against his chest. Being reminded of her first thing in the morning was his favorite way to start the day. Being reminded that she felt safe enough to let him that close, that she wanted him that close, made him feel grateful that he’d survived another day...for once. For someone who was often so careless with his life in the field, the privilege of waking next to Gwyn was enough to make him glad that he still had it.

But he was reminded that she understood the early mornings just as much as he did when he found himself alone in her bed. While he’d been doing this longer and she wasn’t always on the front lines the way that he was, which he was glad for since they were practically glorified cannon fodder at this point, she was just as much a Glaive as he was. He shouldn’t have been surprised that she might wake up just as early as he did.

Pushing himself up, he was about to get out of bed to look for her. She beat him to that, too, when she walked back into the bedroom. And the sight of her like this may have been just as good as the one of her sleeping next to him. The tee that he’d abandoned on the floor last hung loose around her, just barely grazing the curve of her hips before stopping midway down her thighs. The black shirt he’d been wearing beneath his uniform was a shock that made her hair look brighter, her skin look paler. He couldn’t do much more than stare at her for a moment, eyes running from the delicate features of her face down to her long legs. Well, that and wonder if he was still dreaming and his subconscious had decided to give him a good one for once. “Holy shit,” he sighed.

It wasn’t just that Gwyn was beautiful. She’d always been beautiful. She was beautiful when she was at peace in the library, beautiful when she and Crowe were sparring, beautiful when she was doing nothing at all. 

No, this time, it was that she was beautiful while being wrapped up in him. His clothes. However inconsequential and sleepy the decision had been, she’d woken up and covered herself with something of his instead of whatever piece of her own clothing was in reach. She made it look much better than he ever could, too. 

“If I’m late and Drautos has my head for it,” Nyx began as he stood and crossed the room to her. Reaching out for the shirt, he grabbed a fistful of it to gently tug Gwyn to him. “I’m blaming you.” 

But with how good she looked, Captain Drautos be damned.

Her breakfast sat untouched. A single nail tapped against the table next to her plate while she watched her mate eat his. The nausea hadn’t set in yet, not from her current condition anyway. That wasn’t what was keeping her from eating. No, the twist in her stomach was more about...nerves. She wondered if he could smell it, if he knew that something was different physically. He’d certainly see it soon enough. If she put on a little more weight, she didn’t think he’d mind. After the way she’d lost so much of it before, he might actually be relieved. This would be a lot more than a little weight in no time though. 

Nesta had waited until she was sure, until she wasn’t going to get his hopes up only to disappoint him. She hadn’t wanted to tell him that she was trying. Hell, she hadn’t even wanted to tell him that the moment she’d seen him playing with her nieces and nephew in the Day Court that she’d suddenly wanted to make him a father more than anything. Cassian was meant to be one. That much was obvious, and her body could handle it. She’d never really wanted to be a mother, not until he was going to be the father until her children. She’d never even thought she’d make a good parent, but him? He was made for it. As long as she had him there, she could do this. Hopefully. Maybe.

She reached for the cup of water before her and gulped down its contents before practically slamming it back into place. “You’re going to be a father.” She blurted. Blunt. Abrupt. A little too loud. And after she said it, the reality set in. Steely eyes went wide; full lips gaped. She was pregnant. Those words still hadn’t left her mouth. They didn’t seem right. There was no denying that it was, but...she knew that Cassian was going to become a father the second the news set in. The fact that she didn’t know when she was going to start feeling like a mother, or if she ever would, terrified her. Physically, their child was growing inside of her even as they just sat there. With each passing second, they got closer to coming in to the world. But mentally, she didn’t feel any different yet. 

“You’re going to be a father.” Nesta repeated, willing her voice to be more steady. And he was going to be thrilled. His joy would be enough. He would anchor her. And by some miracle, she would let him like she had somehow learned to do now. “In a few months, so...” she sighed and offered a small smile. “Better start getting ready now,”

“Of course I’ve thought about it,” he said before popping a berry into his mouth, chewing around a grin as the familiar idea filled his head while he gazed through the space in the gauzy white curtains of the veranda. Each time the light breeze caught them enough, he got a peek out to the city. His birthright. Their court. Day had been a bit odd to him at first. It was always so unlike what he was used to. The beauty of it was undeniable, sure, with its airy brightness, but he’d grown up with solid walls and strict ideas that he’d never liked. The place made sense to him now though, now that they’d settled into their new roles. Now that he and Feyre had made their home in the daylight together. He was quite fond of this land. That much showed, too, in the way that he was so relaxed here, lounging back against the plush cushions and bare save for the pair of thin white pants that weren’t appropriate for much more than a quiet morning in private when the only eyes on him would be hers. The picture of comfort, of elegance, of power. A High Lord who’d taken to his throne.

And yet, he couldn’t help but chuckle and think... “This place could use a couple of tiny Feyres wreaking havoc.” Not too many. There was such a thing as too many siblings, and he knew it. There was something lonely about feeling so disconnected to your family when it was so large, but he wouldn’t want his child to grow up completely alone either. He imagined just enough that he and Feyre could finally have the happy family that they’d both been deprived of for the majority of their lives. A few little ones with her eyes and his hair and their shared affinity for the unconventional who could grow up together. The court would have an heir, and... 

Oh, what a mother she’d make. 

His gaze cut over to where she’d sat up to face him. It wasn’t just that any children of hers were bound to be beautiful; it was also that she was so strong and had so much love to give. Lucien knew that their children would grow up so capable, so supported, and so completely adored by their parents. Already, he loved even just the versions of them that he imagined, and he knew that it was nothing compared to what he’d feel once they became real. That didn’t have to be now. It didn’t even have to be soon. For now, he was content that he got to just dream of them. He felt lucky that Feyre was even open to the idea as well and that he would get to raise a family with her. Someday. 

“I’ll tell you what.” He leaned forward and laid a broad hand on her bare thigh, sliding it upwards until he breached the hem of the scrap of fabric that could barely be called a nightgown. She seemed fond of these little things. He certainly wasn’t going to complain. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was reminded of that night in the Spring Court all those years ago. His memories of these were much fonder now though, when he could freely touch her when she looked so tempting, when she wasn’t acting as she melted into him and whined in the middle of the night. They never stayed on long. This one had been swiped off the floor before breakfast. It had only survived the night because he knew she liked it. He had half a mind to send it to a forgotten heap again. They had their privacy here, and he couldn’t deny that the thought of making her a mother was stirring something within him. 

Instead of exposing her to the warm morning air right away though, his other hand found her waist so he could easily lift her into his lap. “You tell me when you’re ready to be a mother...” Lucien mused as she settled with her thighs bracing his hips, which he pressed her down against while he wore that smirk that he knew she loved so much. “And I will devote myself entirely to making it happen, my lady,”

@pavocellvs​ // surprise !!

“ i can’t do this​, ” he breathed, arm pressed against the wall above her, other hand gently holding onto her waist, grasp light enough that she could pull away, could go if she wanted to. but enough to make her stay cassian hoped. he’d known for ages now that they were mates; that of all the people in the world, all the years he’d wished and waited and hoped, he’d found her. and he’d known for ages that she didn’t want him back. not like that at least. she was content to share his bed when it fit her wants. but that was the extent of their relationship in nesta’s eyes, and cassian couldn’t do it anymore. there had to be something deeper - she had to feel something else. he’d seen it in her eyes, had seen a flicker of something more. “ i can’t do this, ” he repeated. “ not if you’re going to walk away again and pretend this is nothing. i’ve tried giving you time and giving you space. but i don’t need perfect, or whatever your idea is of good enough. ” he could feel his own heart breaking, the fact that his own mate thought she wasn’t deserving of him, that she would reject him in every way except this in some plan to keep him from getting hurt. it only hurt more. “ i just need you and we’ll figure out the rest. but i can’t keep coming back to you just for you to leave afterwards and pretend this is just a fling. ” forehead brushed against her’s, cassian sighing, gaze holding hers, pleading for her to put him out of his misery. “ you’re not protecting me. you’re just hurting me. please, nes. i just need you. ”