#velarls

HOSAB Spoilers? Maybe?

I can’t even tell y’all how much time I’ve spent looking at this fan art. It’s literally my favorite thing ever. The level of detail and talent is just unmatched 😭

THE AUTUM KING ON THE DART BOARD?

THE PICTURE OF VELARIS?!

The fire spirits?! 🥹🥺

The way Hunt and Bryce are sitting together?!

DADDY RHUN?!

THE LITERAL FUCKING STICKERS ON THE LAPTOP?!

@velarls

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,”